David Morrell - The Fifth Profession

“No, osteopathic medicine's a theory that most illness is caused by pressure from injured muscles and displaced bones,” Akira said.

Savage thought about it and shook his head. “Let's try…”

“I'm sorry, sir,” the elderly woman at the Harrisburg Hospital information desk said. “There's no Dr. Hamilton on our staff.”

“Please,” Akira said tensely, “check again.”

“But I checked three times already. The computer shows no reference to a Dr. Hamilton.”

“Maybe he's not on the staff,” Akira said. “He might be in private practice and sends his patients here.”

“Well, of course that's possible,” the woman said behind the desk.

“No,” Rachel said.

Savage and Akira turned to her.

“When I checked the phone book, I looked under private physicians. He isn't listed.”

“Then he works for another hospital,” Akira said.

They crossed the crowded lobby toward the exit.

“What troubles me,” Rachel said, “is there was no Dr. Hamilton in the white pages either.”

“An unlisted number.”

“What kind of physician has an unlisted private number?” The lobby's door hissed open.

The overweight man behind the information desk at the Harrisburg State Hospital shook his head, tapped more buttons on the keyboard, watched the computer screen, and pursed his lips.

“Nope. No Dr. Hamilton. Sorry.”

“But that's impossible,” Savage said.

“After Medford Gap, nothing's impossible,” Akira said.

“There's got to be an explanation.” Savage suddenly thought of one. “This happened six months ago. For all we know, he resigned and moved to another city to work for another institution.”

“Then how would we find that information?” Rachel asked the man behind the desk.

“You'd have to talk to Personnel. The computer lists only current staff members.”

“And where-?”

The man gave directions to Personnel. “But you'd better hurry. It's almost five. They'll soon be closing.”

“I'll do it,” Akira said quickly. “Savage, phone the personnel office at the other hospital.”

Akira hurried down a corridor.

Trying not to bump into visitors, Savage rushed toward a row of pay phones at the side of the lobby.

“I'll meet you back here,” Rachel said.

“Where are-?”

“I've got an idea.”

Continuing toward the phones, Savage heard her urgently ask the man at the information desk, “How do I find the business office?” Savage wondered why she wanted to know. But at once all he cared about was that every phone was being used. He glanced at his watch. Six minutes to five. Anxious, he pulled coins from his pocket, scanned the list of hospitals, addresses, and phone numbers Rachel had given him, saw a woman leave a phone, and darted toward it. As the call went through, he glanced across the lobby. Rachel was gone.

They sat in the hospital's coffee shop, staring at their Styrofoam cups.

“The personnel office has no listing for a Dr. Hamilton in the past five years,” Akira said.

“The other hospital did have a Dr. Hamilton,” Savage said.

Akira straightened.

“Three years ago,” Savage said. “Female. Elderly. She died from a stroke.”

Akira slumped back in his chair.

“It's beginning to look as if our Dr. Hamilton didn't exist any more than the Medford Gap Mountain Retreat did,” Savage said.

“And that's not all that didn't exist,” Rachel said. “The two of you may think you're real, but you're not.”

“What are you talking about?” Akira asked.

“At least as far as the Harrisburg hospitals are concerned. I went to the business office. While they found out what I needed, I went to a phone to call the other hospital and get its business office before it closed. I asked for the same information.”

“What information?” Akira asked.

“The business office is the place that sends patients their bills. Earlier you told me the names you'd used when you stayed in the hospital. I pretended to be an insurance agent. I said my company had paid for your treatment several months ago. Now I was getting complaints from you. I asked each hospital why it was sending you notices about overdue bills. The people I spoke to were quite sympathetic. It was easy to solve the problem, they said. They checked their computers. You'll never guess what. The computers came up blank. There's no record that you stayed in either hospital.”

Savage squeezed his Styrofoam cup, almost breaking it. “Then where the hell were we?”

“Maybe the Osteopathic Hospital,” Rachel said. “But when we go there during business hours tomorrow, I strongly suspect…”

“We'll get the same answers,” Akira said. “There's no such place as the Medford Gap Mountain Retreat. We didn't see each other die. We never met Dr. Hamilton. We weren't in a Harrisburg hospital. What else didn't happen?”

Savage stood forcefully and walked away.

“Where are you going?” Rachel hurried to follow, joined by Akira.

“The information desk.”

“But why?” Rachel tried to keep pace as Savage stalked into the lobby. “We've asked everything we can think of.”

“No. There's one thing we haven't asked. The way to the goddamn Emergency Ward.”

In a brightly lit vestibule, a weary nurse peered up from behind a counter. “Yes, sir? May 1…?”

She suddenly frowned, seeing the tension on Savage's face. She shifted her troubled gaze toward Rachel and Akira.

“I want to see a doctor,” Savage said.

“Has there been an accident?” She stood. “You don't look injured. Is it someone else who needs…?”

“I said I want to see a doctor.”

The nurse blinked, startled. “Of course, sir.” She stepped back nervously. “Please wait right here.” She disappeared down a corridor.

“Be calm,” Akira said.

“I'm trying, but it's not doing any good. I have to know.”

Abruptly the nurse returned, accompanied by a tall man wearing hospital greens.

“Yes, sir?” The young man slowed, approaching Savage cautiously. “I'm Dr. Reynolds. The senior resident on this ward. Is there something-”

“I need an X ray.”

“Why?” The resident studied him. “Are you in pain?”

“You bet I'm in pain.”

“But where? Your chest? An arm?”

“Everywhere.”

“What?”

“I want…What I need… is a full-body X ray.”

“A full-body…? Why would you…? Describe your symptoms.”

“I ache from head to foot. I can't bear the pain anymore. I have to know what's wrong. Just give me the X rays.”

“But we can't just…”

“I'll pay.”

“We still can't…Does your family doctor know about your pain?”

“I travel a lot. I don't have a family doctor.”

“But without a diagnosis…”

“I said I'm willing to pay.”

“Money's not the issue. We can't give X rays needlessly. If your pain's as severe as you indicate, you'd better come into the ward. Let me examine you.”

“Your name, please,” a young woman said.

Savage turned toward a civilian, who'd replaced the nurse at the counter.

“And the name of your insurance company.”

“I changed my mind,” Savage said.

The resident frowned. “You don't want to be examined?”

Savage shook his head. The resident's suspicious gaze bothered him. “I thought if I asked…My friend here was right. Be calm.”

“But something is wrong with you.”

“You're right about that. The question is what. Don't worry, though. I'll take your advice. I need a family doctor.”