F Wilson - Implant

"Okay, Marge, " he called out. "Who's next. Let's keep moving." He didn't have all day.

It began as a whim, which soon evolved into a compulsion, and by midafternoon Gin found herself in the periodicals section of the Alexandria Public Library.

Lisa Lathram . . . there had to be more on Lisa Lathram. And where better to find it than in the town where she lived and died?

Disappointingly, the Alexandria Banner's obit was identical to the one in the Host. But a short news blurb about her death made an offhanded mention of her father being under investigation by the Virginia State Board of Medical Examiners.

Gin went rigid in her seat. Duncan? Investigated? For what?

She began buzzing backward through the microfilmed issues of the Banner. Fortunately it was a small paper with a low daily page count.

Whenever she found mention of Duncan she photocopied the page and put it aside. When the Lathram references petered out, she assembled the copies and read through them in chronological order.

The first story appeared about three months before Lisa's death. Half the Banner's front page was devoted to Duncan, citing him for billing Medicate over a million dollars in vascular surgery fees the preceding year. An editorial in the same issue categorized him as a prime example of "unchecked greed in a profession run amok." Gin shook her head in wonder. A million . . . a lot of money, even for a vascular surgeon. But billing Medicate for a million didn't mean you received a million. It only paid a fraction of what was billed. And even if it paid dollar for . . .

.

dollar, so what? She'd seen how Duncan worked when he was a vascular surgeon. If he billed a million, it was because he'd earned a million.

, 79 The follow-up article described how a patient's rights ,"t group was circulating petitions calling for an investigation of - Dr. Lathram to determine how much, not if but how much unnecessary surgery he was performing. The petitions were forwarded to the Virginia State Board of Medical Examiners. Soon the Banner was announcing on its front page that Duncan Lathram, MD, was under investigation for suspicion of malfeasance and fraud by the state board. Then came an article revealing that Medicare's fraud unit was conducting an audit of Duncan's office and hospital records.

God, how awful, she thought. How humiliating to have all those investigators pawing through your records, probably while patients sat in the waiting room.

Then Lisa's death.

And after that . . . nothing.

Where was the resolution? What was the outcome? She couldn't find a single mention anywhere. Had Duncan lost his Virginia license? Was that why he was in Chevy Chase 7 now?

One way to find out. She glanced at her watch. Still time to call the Virginia state board.

It took four calls, but Gin finally tracked down the executive secretary, a Mrs. Helen Arnovitz. She asked if Duncan Lathram was still licensed in the state, and if so, had any disciplinary action ever been taken against him?

Helen put her on hold and returned a minute later.

"Yes, he's still licensed and no action was ever taken.

However, I remember the case well. The board did conduct an investigation fir the possibility of fraudulent billing and performing unnecessary surgery."

"And? " "The charges were found to be groundless. The board was obligated to investigate due to some adverse publicity Dr. Lathram had been receiving, but found no malfeasance.

When the results of the Medicate audit came back clear, we completely exonerated him."

"So it was all much ado about nothing. ' "For us, but not for poor Dr. Lathram. ' Gin stiffened. "Really? Why not?

' '"His practice dwindled to the point where he had to close his office.

I understand he's doing quite well now in Maryland, but it was a shame that Virginia had to lose such a fine vascular surgeon."

"I'm sure it was. Thank you." Gin hung up, leaned back, and closed her eyes.

Her heart went out to Duncan.

Public humiliation, the death of his daughter, the closing of his practice, the breakup of his marriage . . . all in the same year. Why had it happened? What had started it all? It was enough to drive anyone . . .

. . . crazy.

No. That wasn't fair. Duncan was anything but crazy. And none of this had any connection to Schulz, Lane, Allard, and Vincent. At least none that she could see.

So why didn't she feel relieved?

There was more to this. Had to be. But where to look?

No time for that now. She was due at Lynnbrook tonight. She'd hoped this mini-research-trip would ease her mind but it hadn't.

Only one thing to do. And she hated herself for doing it.

Gerry slouched in the cubicle that served as his Office staring at Martha's drawing of an orange horse, truly a horse of a different color.

He should have been devising a way to snare Senator Schulz's uncle as an accomplice in laundering hono rana. Instead he was thinking about the loss of three , F members from the same committee. What were the odds of that happening by chance? Especially when they'd all had surgery from the same doctor.

His phone rang. The receptionist down in the visitor area. "There's a Dr. Panzella here to see you." He damn near dropped the phone.

'"What? Dr. Pan, she's there? Now? " "Yes. Standing right in front of me."

"I'll be right down." Gerry grabbed his suit jacket and headed for the elevators. He pressed the down button but none opened immediately so he took the stairs. Only three floors. Nothing to it.

He burst through the doors and found Gin standing in the center of the lobby. Her features were tight.

"Gin? Is something wrong? " She handed him a package, something wadded up in a brown paper lunch bag. "Here. This is what you wanted."

"I wanted? " Baffled, he wormed his hand inside the bag and produced a test tube filled with clear fluid, a sheet of computer printout came with it.

"I don't get it." '"It's what Oliver Lathram puts in his brother's implants."

"Oh, hey, I didn't, " '"Analyze it, Gerry. Satisfy your curiosity, resolve your suspicions, and then let me know what you find.

That's a list of what's supposed to be in the solution. See if the analysis matches it." She was so stiff, her expression so grim.

'"Gin, what's wrong? ' "I don't like what I'm doing, Gerry. I'm not proud of myself for sneaking this out of Oliver's lab."

"But you didn't have to. I was only, " "You started me thinking, you got me worried. So now I want to know too."

"I'm sorry." She started to say something, then seemed to change her mind. It looked as if she'd been about to say, You shogld be, but she said, "It's okay.

You're just doing your job." He offered the tube to her. "You can have this back." She shook her head. "Too late now." The tension was so thick between them Gerry doubted even a Ginsu knife would cut it.

"Dinner was great the other night, " he said. "You're a super chef. " "I'm glad you liked it." No thaw yet. He'd have to pull out the big guns.

"Martha loved it. And she loves you." Gin's features softened.

Finally.

"And I love her, " she said. Then she pointed to the test tube. "But let me know about that stuffs soon as you hear, Gerry. It's important to me."

"Don't worry. As soon as I hear, you'll hear. But in the meantime, what are you doing for dinner tonight? " She shook her head.

"Moonlighting at Lynnbrook." She turned and started walking away.

"You will let me know, . . . .

won't your Gerry raised three fingers, Boy Scout style. "Promise. " Damn right I promise, he thought. Because I can see you're going to be a basket case until I do.

As he headed upstairs to get a lab requisition form, he didn't know whether he should be elated or depressed. He had a sample of Duncan Lathram's solution, but he'd also made Gin terribly upset. Was the prize worth the cost? If analysis turned up a toxin, how would he tell her?