Godplayer (28 page)

Getting on the elevator, Ballantine shook his head. He hated getting mixed up with family problems. Here he had been trying to help both Kingsleys. He’d sought out Cassi in order to put her mind at ease. But she hadn’t seemed willing to listen. For the first time he began to question Cassi’s objectivity.

Getting off the elevator, Ballantine decided to see if George was out of the OR.

He found Sherman surrounded by house staff in the recovery room. When George caught the chiefs eye, he excused himself and followed Ballantine out into the hall.

“I had a disturbing conversation with Kingsley’s wife this morning,” Ballantine said, getting straight to the point. “I thought she had wanted to see me to apologize about the incident last night. But that wasn’t it. She was worried that Thomas might be abusing drugs.”

George opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated. The residents had just been describing Kingsley’s behavior in the OR that morning before George himself had taken over. If he told the chief that would mean real trouble for Kingsley. And it was always possible that Thomas had just drunk too much the night before, upset as he obviously was after the fight. George decided to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being.

“Did you believe Cassi?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. I spoke with Thomas, who had some very good answers, but even I have found his temper unusually erratic.” Ballantine sighed. “You always said you didn’t care about being chief of service, but even if Kingsley agrees to come full-time, he may not be right for the department when we are done reorganizing. He certainly opposes the new patients we’re scheduling on the teaching service.”

“Yes,” said George. “And I can’t see Thomas accepting the idea of free surgery for the mentally retarded in order to train new teams of vascular surgeons.”

“His point of view isn’t necessarily wrong. These new expensive procedures should be made available first to the patients with the best chances for long-term survival. But practically speaking, the residents rarely get such cases. And as far as the hospital favoring patients most valuable to society, who’s to judge? As you said, George, we’re just physicians, not God.”

“Maybe he’ll calm down,” said George. “If our plans go through, we certainly will be needing him on the teaching staff.”

“Let’s hope,” said Ballantine. “I’ve suggested he take a vacation with his wife. By the way, I assume his accusations were pure paranoia as far as you’re concerned.”

“Unfortunately yes. But I’ll tell you, if she ever gave me a chance, I’d still fight for her. Aside from those amazing looks, she’s one of the most caring women I’ve ever met.”

“Just don’t upset our genius any more than you have to,” said Ballantine with a laugh. “In the meantime, do you think I should review Thomas’s prescriptions?”

“How can it hurt? But there are other ways doctors can get hold of drugs,” said George, thinking of Thomas’s collapse in the OR.

“Let’s just hope he takes his vacation soon and comes back his old self.”

“Right,” said George, though he personally had not been that fond of Thomas in happier days.

CHAPTER 9

CASSI WAS IN A STATE of shock. She couldn’t believe the change that had come over Thomas. At around five o’clock he’d called her saying his surgery for that evening had been canceled and that he was free. He then offered to drive her home in the Porsche, saying she should leave her car at the hospital.

For the first time in months, dinner was a pleasant affair. Thomas had suddenly become his old charming self, the man Cassi had married. He tolerated Patricia’s usual complaints with easy humor and was openly loving and affectionate toward Cassi.

Cassi was infinitely pleased although a little confused. It was hard to believe that Thomas had forgotten the wrenching events of the previous evening, but she watched in amazement as he hurried his mother back to her apartment and solicitously poured Cassi a Kahlua. He fixed himself a cognac. They settled on the oval couch in front of the fire.

“I got a call from Dr. Obermeyer,” he said, sipping his drink. “But by the time I called him back he’d left for the day. What’s happening about your eye?”

“I saw him today. He said that since my vision hasn’t cleared I must have the surgery.”

“When?” Thomas’s voice was mellow. He was swirling his cognac.

“As soon as possible,” said Cassi hesitantly.

Thomas absorbed the news with apparent equanimity, and Cassi continued.

“I guess Dr. Obermeyer was trying to reach you because he scheduled me for the day after tomorrow. Unless, of course, you object.”

“Object?” asked Thomas. “Why would I object? Your eyesight is far too important to take chances with.”

Cassi let out a sigh of relief. She had been so concerned about Thomas’s response she hadn’t realized she was holding her breath.

“Even though I know it’s a minor operation, I’m still frightened to death.”

Thomas leaned over and put his arm around her. “Of course you’re scared. It’s a natural reaction. But Martin Obermeyer is the best. You couldn’t be in better hands.”

“I know,” said Cassi, with a weak smile.

“And I made a decision this afternoon,” Thomas said holding her tighter.

“As soon as Obermeyer gives you the green light, we’ll take a vacation. Some place like the Caribbean. Ballantine convinced me that I need some time off, and what better time could there be than while you’re recuperating. What do you say?”

“I say that sounds wonderful.” She turned her face up to kiss him as the phone rang.

Thomas got up to answer it. She hoped he wasn’t being called back to the hospital.

“Seibert,” said Thomas into the phone. “Nice to hear your voice.”

Cassi leaned forward and carefully set her glass on the coffee table. Robert had never called her at home. This was just the kind of interruption that could throw Thomas into a frenzy.

But he was saying calmly, “She’s right here, Robert. No, it’s not too late.”

With a smile he handed the phone to Cassi.

“I hope it’s all right that I called you at home,” said Robert, “but I managed to sneak up to pathology and look at Jeoffry Washington’s vein sections. After I got back to my room, I remembered where I’d seen such precipitates before. I had been doing the post on a man killed in an industrial accident. He had spilled concentrated sodium fluoride onto his lap. Even though he’d rinsed himself off, enough of the substance had been absorbed to prove fatal. He had the same kind of precipitation in his veins.”

Cassi lowered her voice, turning her back to Thomas. She did not want him to know she was still following the SSD study. “But sodium fluoride isn’t used as a medication.”

“It is on teeth,” said Robert.

“But it’s not given internally,” Cassi whispered. “And certainly not by IV.”

“That’s true,” said Robert. “But let me tell you how this accident victim died. He had grand mal seizures, and finally acute cardiac arrhythmia. Sound familiar?”

Cassi knew that six patients in the SSD series had died with the same symptoms, but she didn’t say anything. Sodium fluoride wasn’t the only thing that could cause them, and there was no sense jumping to conclusions.

“As soon as I get back in the lab,” said Robert, “I’ll be able to analyze these precipitates. I’ll find out if they are sodium fluoride. If they are, you know what that means, don’t you?”

“I have an idea,” said Cassi reluctantly.

“It means murder,” said Robert.

“What was that all about?” asked Thomas when Cassi had rejoined him on the couch. “Does Robert have some new brainstorm about his SSD series?” To Cassi’s surprise Thomas only seemed curious, not upset. She decided it was safe to tell him a little about Robert’s progress.

“He’s still working on it,” she said. “He’d begun to collate the data just before he was admitted to the hospital. He got a computer printout that showed some rather interesting results.”

“Like what?” asked Thomas.

“Oh, any number of possibilities,” Cassi said evasively. “He can’t rule out anything. I mean, all sorts of things can happen in hospitals. Remember those poor people in New Jersey who were given curare?” Cassi laughed nervously.

“Surely he doesn’t suspect murder?” said Thomas.

“No, no,” said Cassi, sorry she said so much. “He just noticed an odd precipitate at the last autopsy that he wanted to track through the data.”

Thomas nodded and appeared to be thinking. Hoping to restore his good humor, Cassi added, “Robert really appreciated your intervening on his behalf.”

“I know,” said Thomas, suddenly smiling. “I didn’t do it for his benefit, but if he insists on seeing it that way, it’s fine with me. Now I think we should go to bed.”

As he tenderly guided her upstairs, Cassi wasn’t sure just what she read in his extraordinary blue eyes. She shivered, not entirely sure if it was with pleasurable expectation.

CHAPTER 10

CASSI HAD NOT BEEN a hospital inpatient since college. Now with medical school and internship behind her, it was a very different experience, just as Robert had suggested. Knowledge of all that could happen made the process far more frightening. Since she’d ridden into the hospital with Thomas, she was there far too early to be admitted. In fact, she’d been told she would have to wait until ten before the proper clerks were available. When Cassi protested that people were admitted all night long through the emergency room, the secretary just repeated that Cassi had to come back at ten.

After spending three unproductive hours in the library, much too nervous to concentrate on anything more demanding than Psychology Today, Cassi went back to admitting. The personnel had changed, although their attitude hadn’t. Instead of smoothing the way through the admitting procedure, they seemed intent on making it as harrowing as possible, as if it were a rite of passage. Now Cassi was informed that she had no hospital card, and without one she could not be admitted. A disinterested clerk finally told her to go to the ID office on the third floor.

Thirty minutes later, armed with a new ID which looked suspiciously like a credit card, Cassi returned to admitting. There she was confronted with another seemingly insurmountable problem. Since she used her maiden name, Cassidy, in the hospital because it was the name on her medical degree, and since Thomas had taken out her health insurance under Kingsley, the secretary claimed they needed her marriage certificate. Cassi said she didn’t have it. It wasn’t something she’d imagined she’d need to be admitted to the hospital, and surely they could just call Thomas’s office and get it straightened out. The clerk insisted the computer had to have the certificate. She was only the machine’s handmaiden, or so she said. This impasse was finally solved by the admitting supervisor who somehow got the computer to accept the information. Finally Cassi was assigned a room on the seventeenth floor, and a pleasant woman in a green smock, with a badge that said MEMORIAL VOLUNTEER, escorted Cassi upstairs.

But not to seventeen. First Cassi was taken to the second floor for a chest X ray. She said she had just had one six weeks ago during a routine physical and did not want another. X ray claimed anesthesia would not anesthetize anyone who was not X-rayed, and it took Cassi another hour to get the chief of anesthesia to call Obermeyer, who in turn called Jackson, the chief of radiology. After Jackson checked Cassi’s old film, he called Obermeyer back, who called back the chief of anesthesia, who called back the radiology clerk to say that Cassi didn’t need another chest film.

The rest of Cassi’s admission went more smoothly, including the visit to the lab for standard blood and urine analysis. Finally Cassi was deposited in a nondescript light blue hospital room with two beds. Her roommate was sixty-one and had a bandage over her left eye.

“Mary Sullivan’s the name,” said the woman after Cassi had introduced herself. She looked older than her sixty-one years because she wasn’t wearing her dentures.

Cassi wondered what kind of surgery the woman had had on her eye.

“Retina fell off,” said Mary, as if noting Cassi’s interest. “They had to take the eye out and glue it back on with a laser beam.”

Cassi laughed in spite of herself. “I don’t think they took your eye out,” she said.

“Sure did. In fact, when they first took my bandage off I saw double and thought they’d put it back in crooked.”

Cassi wasn’t about to argue. She unpacked her things, carefully storing her insulin and syringes in the drawer of her nightstand. She would take her normal injection that evening, but after that she was not to medicate herself until she was cleared to do so by her internist, Dr. Mclnery.

Cassi changed into pajamas. It seemed a silly thing to do at that time of day, but she knew why it was a hospital rule. Putting the patients into bedclothes psychologically encouraged them to submit to the hospital routine. Cassi could feel the change herself. She was now a patient.

After all her years at the hospital, she was amazed at how uncomfortable she felt without the status of her white coat. Just leaving her assigned room made her feel uneasy, as if she were possibly doing something wrong.

And when she emerged on the eighteenth floor to visit Robert, she felt as if she were an intruder.