Tess Gerritsen - Harvest

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Tess Gerritsen - Harvest» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Год выпуска: 1996, ISBN: 1996, Издательство: Pocket Books, Жанр: Триллер, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

Harvest: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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For Dr. Abby DiMatteo, the road to Boston's Bayside Hospital began with a tragic accident — and the desperate, awful weeks that followed as she watched her little brother, Pete, lose his battle to live. Despite her small-town roots and lack of money, Abby pushed through college and medical school, each achievement strengthening her ambition to reach higher. Now, immersed in the grinding fatigue of her second year as a surgical resident, she's elated when the hospital' elite cardiac transplant team taps her as a potential recruit. But Abby soon makes an anguished, crucial decision that jeopardizes her entire career. A car crash victim's healthy heart is ready to be harvested; it is immediately cross-matched to a wealthy private patient, forty-six-year-old Nina Voss. Abby and chief resident Vivian Chao hatch a bold plan to make sure that the transplant goes instead to a dying seventeen-year-old boy who is also a perfect match. The repercussions are powerful and swift; Dr. Chao resigns, bowing under the combined fury of the hospital's top staff and Nina Voss's outraged husband. Abby is shaken but unrepentant — until she meets the frail, tormented Nina. Then a new heart for Nina Voss suddenly appears, her transplant is completed, and Abby makes a terrible discovery. The donor records have been falsified — Nina's heart has not come through the proper channels. Defying Bayside Hospital's demands for silence, Abby, with Vivian Chao's help, plunges into an investigation that reveals an intricate, and murderous, chain of deceptions.

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We think it never hurts to scout out the territory in advance."

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you," said Abby.

Archer reached for the brandy decanter and poured himself a scant refill. "Our transplant team's interested in only the best. The best credentials, the best performance. We're always looking over the residents for fellowship material. Oh, we have a selfish motive, of course. We're grooming people for the team." He paused. "And we were wondering if you might have an interest in transplant surgery."

Abby flashed Mark a startled look. He nodded.

"It's not something you have to decide anytime soon," said Archer. "But we want you to think about it. We have the next few years to get to know each other. By then, you may not even want a fellowship. It may turn out transplant surgery's not something you're even vaguely interested in."

"But it is." She leaned forward, her face flushing with enthusiasm. "I guess I'm just… surprised by this. And flattered. There are so many good residents in the programme. Vivian Chao, for instance."

"Yes, Vivian is good."

"I think she'll be looking for a fellowship next year."

Mohandas said, "There's no question that Dr. Chao's surgical technique is outstanding. I can think of several residents with excellent technique. But you have heard the saying? One can teach a monkey how to operate.The trick is teaching him when to operate."

"I think what Raj is trying to say is, we're looking for good clinical judgment," said Archer. "And a sense of teamwork. We see you as someone who works well with a team. Not at cross-purposes. That's something we insist on, Abby, teamwork. When you're sweating it out in the OR, all sorts of things can go wrong. Equipment fails. Scalpels slip. The heart gets lost in transit. We have to be able to pull together, come hell or high water. And we do."

"We help each other out, too," said Frank Zwick. "Both in the OR and outside of it."

"Absolutely," said Archer. He glanced at Aaron. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Aaron cleared his throat. "Yes, we help each other out. It's one of the benefits of joining this team."

"One of the many benefits," added Mohandas.

For a moment no one spoke. The Brandenburg Concerto played softly in the background. Archer said, "I like this part," and turned up the volume. As the sound of violins spilled from the speakers, Abby found herself gazing, once again, at Death versus the Physician. The battle for a patient's life, a patient's soul.

"You mentioned there were… other benefits," said Abby.

"For example," offered Mohandas, 'when I completed my surgery residency, I had a number of student loans to pay off. So that was part of my recruitment package. Bayside helped me pay off my loans."

"Now that's something we can talk about, Abby," said Archer. "Ways we can make this attractive to you.Young surgeons nowadays, they come out of residency at thirty years old. Most of them are already married with maybe a kid or two. And they owe — what? A hundred thousand dollars in loans. They don't even own a house yet! It'll take 'em ten years just to get out of debt. By then they're forty, and worried about college for their kids!" He shook his head. "I don't know why anyone goes into medicine these days. Certainly not to make money."

"If anything," agreed Abby, 'it's a hardship."

"It doesn't have to be. That's where Bayside can help. Mark mentioned to us that you were on financial aid all the way through medical school."

"A combination of scholarships and loans. Mostly loans."

"Ouch. That sounds painful."

Abby nodded ruefully. "I'm just beginning to feel the pain."

"College loans as well?"

"Yes. My family had… financial problems," Abby admitted. "You make it sound like something to be ashamed of."

"It was more a case of… bad luck. My younger brother was hospitalized for a number of months and we weren't insured. But then, in the town where I grew up, a lot of people weren't insured."

"Which only confirms how hard you must have worked to beat the odds. Everyone here knows what that's like. Raj here was an immigrant, didn't speak English until he was ten. Me, I'm the first in my family to go to college. Believe me, there are no goddamn Boston Brahmins in this room. No rich daddies or handy little trust funds. We know about beating the odds because we've all done it. That's the kind of drive we're looking for in this team."

The music swelled to its finale. The last chord of trumpets and strings faded away. Archer shut off the stereo and looked at Abby.

"Anyway. It's something for you to think about," he said. "We're not making any firm offers, of course. It's more like talking about a, uh…" Archer grinned at Mark. "First date."

"I understand," said Abby.

"One thing you should know. You're the only resident we've approached. The only one we're really considering. It would be wise if you didn't mention this to the rest of the house staff. We don't want to stir up any jealousy."

"Of course not."

"Good." Archer looked around the room. "I think we're all in agreement about this. Right, gentlemen?"

There was a general nodding of heads.

"We have consensus," said Archer. And, smiling, he reached once again for the brandy decanter. "This is what I call a real team."

"So what do you think?" Mark asked as they drove home.

Abby threw back her head and shouted deliriously. "I'm floating! God, what a night!"

"You're happy about it, huh?"

"Are you kidding? I'm terrified."

"Terrified? Of what?"

"That I'll screw up. And blow it all."

He laughed and gave her knee a squeeze. "Hey, we've worked with all the other residents, OIL> We know we're recruiting the best."

"And just how much of this was your influence, Dr. Hodell?"

"Oh, I put in my two cents' worth. The others just happened to be in complete agreement."

"Right."

"It's true. Believe me, Abby, you're our number one choice. And I think you'd find it a terrific arrangement, too."

She sat back, smiling. Imagining. Until tonight, she'd had only a fuzzy notion of where she'd be working in three and a half years. Toiling in an HMO, most likely. Private practice was in its dying days; she saw no future in it, at least, not in the city of Boston. And Boston was where she wanted to stay. Where Mark was.

"I want this so badly," she said. "I just hope I don't disappoint you all."

"Not a chance. The team knows what it wants. We're all together on this."

She fell silent for a moment. "Even Aaron Levi?" she asked. "Aaron? Why wouldn't he be?"

"I don't know. I was talking to his wife tonight. Elaine. I got the feeling Aaron isn't very happy. Did you know he was thinking of leaving?"

"What?" Mark glanced at her in surprise.

"Something about moving to a small town."

He laughed. "It'll never happen. Elaine's a Boston girl."

"It wasn't Elaine. It was Aaron who was thinking about it."

For a while Mark drove without saying a word. "You must have misunderstood," he said at last.

She shrugged. "Maybe I did."

"Light, please," said Abby.

A nurse reached up and adjusted the overhead lamp, focusing the beam on the patient's chest. The operative site had been drawn on the skin in black marker, two tiny x's connected by a line tracing along the top of the fifth rib. It was a small chest, a small woman. Mary Allen, eighty-four years old and a widow, had been admitted to Bayside a week ago complaining of weight loss and severe headaches. A routine chest x-ray had turned up an alarming find: multiple nodules in both lungs. For six days she'd been probed, scanned, and x-rayed. She'd had a bronchoscope down her throat, needles punched through her chest wall, and still the diagnosis was unclear.

Today they'd know the answer.

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