Michael Palmer - Flashback

I appreciate your commitment to doing what's right, but-"

"But what?"

Again, Zack hesitated. One slip, one misplaced thought, and the Judge would be off and running on another of his crusades. In Frank's eyes, the two of them would be aligned against him and Ultramed, and any chance of enlisting his help, either in exposing the corporation or in solving the mystery of Toby Nelms, would likely be lost for good.

"Judge, Frank has his quirks and his faults, " he said finally, "just like the rest of us. But considering the expectations and the pressures he's had to overcome since those days at Sterling High, I think he's done some things we should both be proud of. At the very least, we Should be going out of our way to give him the benefit of the doubt in' this business."

"So you think I'm being disloyal by wanting to know whether my son and the corporation he works for are making a profit at the expense Of my community?"

"I didn't say that."

"And you think it's disloyalty to question whether Frank might have had a role in the destruction of a man's reputation?"

"Judge, please."

"I'm sorry, Zachary, but I've spent more than thirty years as a lawyer, half of them as a judge. As far as I'm concerned, doing what is right is far more important than any of that kind of so-called loyalty."

"I'm not arguing with that. It's just that from what I can see, this whole business isn't all that simple. Did you know that if it weren't for Frank's using his influence at the hospital, Beaulieu would have been suspended some time ago?" The Judge looked shaken. "No, " he said.

"I didn't."

"Well, it's true." Of course, the story of Frank's intercession had come from Frank himself, but Zack saw no point in sharing that piece of information, or for that matter, his displeasure with Frank's behavior on the day of Beaulieu's death. He was enjoying the chance to play his brother's advocate. He also sensed that in arguing on Frank's behalf, he was, in some ways, making a case for their father's recognition of his own accomplishments in life. The Judge seemed surprised and upset by his stand. Again, he addressed his ball, although Zack could see from his stance and his bloodless knuckles that his concentration was broken. And suddenly Zack understood, his father had done something, or at least was contemplating doing something, that would not sit well with Frank, and now, all at once, he had doubts. His swing was rushed and awkward. The ball, never really leaving the ground, skimmed across the fairway and slammed into the recently vacated sand trap. Clayton Iverson barely reacted to the horrible shot. "You know, " he said as they trudged toward the bunker, "from the day your mother and I first learned she was pregnant with Frank, we began to share visions of greatness for our children. I don't suppose that makes us unique, but I tell you, son, we spent many an hour by the fire that winter sharing our dreams. We even named Frank, and then you, after presidents-little-known presidents, but ones who did leave their marks on history."

Inwardty, Zack sighed. This talk was one he had endured many times over the years. Franklin Pierce, the only president born in New Hampshire, and Zachary Taylor, the much-maligned warrior who, despite four historically undistinguished years in office, established the Department of the Interior, were special favorites of the Judge. "Betieve me, Judge, " Zack said, in what had become his standard response to the discussion, "both Frank and I appreciate the values and the drive you instilled in us."

He paused to chip his approach shot onto the edge of the green and then watched as his father, now totally off his game, took two shots to get out of the sand trap. By the end of the hole, Zack had cut his deficit to six dollars, and following two ties and a disastrous seven by the Judge on the thirteenth, he had pared it by three dollars more. "Judge, " he said, motioning to the small refreshment kiosk by the fourteenth tee, "let's take a break. Anything that could upset you enough to play like this ought to be talked out."

"I'm not upset, " Clayton Iverson said. "Okay, you're not upset. You only went from shooting four over par for the whole front nine, to shooting eight over for the first four holes since you brought up this business about the hospital. Why don't you have a seat at that little table over there and let me buy you a beer."

The Judge started to protest, but then relented. "Maybe I am a little upset, " he muttered. Zack left him at the wrought-iron table and returned with two frosted mugs and two bottles of Lowenbrau. "So, what's going on? " Zack asked as he sipped at his beer. "What do you mean?"

"I mean Frank, Judge. I know you helped him get considered for the job with Ultramed. Is that why you're being hard on him? Because you feel responsible?"

"Zachary, the mess your brother made of that damn electronics company of his wasn't his first fiasco. He just didn't have the patience for that kind of business. He was constantly trying to go directly from step one to step twenty. He was lucky the Ultramed opportunity came along when it did. I told him that when he-" Clayton Iverson stopped m mid-sentence.

"When he what, Judge?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"He asked you for a loan, didn't he? " Zack said. Suddenly pieces of conversations he had had with his brother over the years began falling into place. Although Frank had never shared the details of his company's failure, he had made it clear that he felt their father was, at least in part, at fault. "It was a foolish request. He was already in it up to here. It would have been throwing good money after bad."

"Frank didn't see it that way, Judge."

"Well., I did. I agreed to help him out of the hole he had gotten himself in, but only on the condition that he get rid of that company.

The hospital job gave him a chance to get out from underneath that nonsense and to show everyone in town just what he could do."

To say nothing of bringing him back here, under your thumb, Zack thought angrily. "So, he got the job, and he's done it well. What more could you Want from him?"

"I could want him to bring the same values to his position that I bring to mine. That's what I could want. I could want him to stand up for what's right."

Despite the warm afternoon, Zachary felt suddenly cold. "What's right?"

I'm the one with Beaulieu's evidence, he wanted to shout.

I'm the one who confronted Maureen Banas. How can you be so damned sure of what's right? "Dad, " he said, "exactly what have you done?"

"You know, Zachary, I don't particularly like that tone of yours.

You may be a big-shot surgeon, but you're still my son."

Zack sensed himself backing away from his father's glare. He couldn't remember the last time he had pushed against the man this hard. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Apology accepted. I think that thirty years on the bench more than qualifies me to tell when someone's handing me a line of bull. rhere was just too much smoke surrounding Beaulieu's complaints for there to be no fire. I… I didn't know until you told me that Frank had intervened on his behalf."

He hesitated, and then reached into the pocket of his golf bag, withdrew an envelope, and passed it over. "Here, " he said, "read this."

Mrs. Leigh Baron Director, Operations Ultramed Hospitals Corporation Boston Place Boston, Massachusetts 02108 Dear Mrs. Baron, The contract effecting the sale of Davis Regional Hospital to Ultramed Hospitals Corporation is now in its fourth and final year.

As you are no doubt aware, the agreement contains provisions for the reacquisition of the facility by the community-based board, of which I am chairman, provided the board meets no less than five months prior to the termination date of the contract and agrees by a vote of no less than 51 % of its members to return to Ultramed the original purchase price-a sum currently held in escrow in the Sterling National Bank-in exchange for resuming control of the hospital. Until recently, I had no intention of convening the board to consider such a vote. However, a situation has developed that greatly concerns me-a conflict between Dr.