Robin Cook - Fatal Cure

He knew he couldn't sit in the hospital parking lot all night, so David finally put the car in gear and drove home. He was surprised to see a light on in the family room. By the time he'd parked and gotten out of the car, Angela was at the door. She was holding a medical journal.

"Are you all right?" she asked as she closed and locked the door behind David.

"I've been better," David said. "Why are you still up?" He removed his coat and motioned for Angela to precede him into the kitchen.

"There was no way I would sleep without you here," Angela said over her shoulder as she passed through the kitchen into the hall. "Not after that note was nailed to our door. And I've been thinking. If you have to go out in the middle of the night like this, I want to have a gun here."

David reached out and pulled Angela to a stop. "We'll have no guns in our house," he said. "You know the statistics as well as I do about guns in houses where there are children."

"Such statistics are not for physicians' families with a single, intelligent child," Angela countered. "Besides, I'll take responsibility for making sure Nikki is well acquainted with the gun and its potential."

David let go of his wife and headed for the stairs. "I don't have the energy or the emotional strength to argue with you."

"Good," Angela said as she caught up with him.

Upstairs, David decided to take another shower. When he came into the bedroom Angela was reading her pathology journal. She was as wide awake as he.

"Last night after dinner you said that you wished you could help me," David said. "Do you remember?"

"Of course I remember," Angela said.

"You might get your wish," David said. "An hour ago I asked the Schiller family if they would permit an autopsy. They said they'd think about it overnight and talk to me tomorrow."

"Unfortunately, it's not up to the family," Angela said. "The hospital doesn't do autopsies on CMV patients."

"But I have another idea," David said. "You could do it on your own."

Angela considered the suggestion. "Maybe I could," she said. "Tomorrow is Sunday and the lab is closed except for emergency chemistries."

"That was exactly my thought," David said.

"I could go to the hospital with you tomorrow and talk to the family," Angela said, warming to the idea.

"I'd appreciate it," David said. "If you could find some specific reason why she died, it would make me feel a whole lot better."

David and Angela were exhausted in the morning, but Nikki was well rested. She'd slept through the night without a nightmare and was eager to begin the day.

On Sundays the Wilsons got up early for church, followed by brunch at the Iron Horse Inn.

Attending church had been Angela's idea. Her motivation wasn't religious, it was social. She thought it would be a good way to join the Bartlet community. She'd settled on the Methodist church on the town green. It was far and away the most popular in town.

"Do we have to go?" David whined that morning. He was sitting on the side of the bed. He was trying to dress with clumsy fingers. He'd again awakened before dawn despite having gone to sleep so late. He'd lain awake for several hours. He'd just fallen back asleep when Nikki and Rusty had come bounding into the room.

"Nikki will be disappointed if we don't go," Angela called from the bathroom.

David finished dressing with resignation. A half hour later, the family climbed into the Volvo and drove into town. From past experience they knew to park in the Inn's parking lot and walk to the green. Parking near the church itself was always a disaster. The traffic on a Sunday was so bad it had to be supervised by one of the town's policemen.

That morning Wayne Robertson was on duty as traffic controller. A stainless-steel whistle protruded from his mouth.

"Isn't this handy," Angela said as soon as she spotted him. "You guys wait here."

Darting away before David could stop her, Angela went directly to the chief of police with the anonymous note in hand.

"Excuse me," Angela said. "I have something I'd like you to see. This was nailed to our door last night while we were in bed." She handed him the note, then rested her knuckles on her hips, her arms akimbo, waiting for his response.

Robertson allowed the whistle to drop from his mouth. It was attached by a cord around his neck. He glanced at the note, then handed it back. "I'd say it's a good suggestion. I recommend that you take the advice."

Angela chuckled. "I'm not asking your opinion as to the note's suggestion," she said. "I want you to find out who left it on our door."

"Well, now," he said slowly, scratching the back of his head, "it's not a lot to go on except for the fact that it was obviously typed on a nineteen fifty-two Smith Corona with a defective lowercase 'o.' "

For an instant, Angela began to reevaluate her estimation of Robertson's abilities. But then she realized he was making fun of her.

"I'm sure you'll do your best," Angela said with commensurate sarcasm, "but considering your attitude toward the Hodges murder case, I guess we can't expect miracles."

Honking horns and a few shouts from frustrated drivers forced Robertson's attention back to the traffic, which had quickly become a muddle. As he did his best to unsnarl the congestion, he said: "You and your little family are newcomers to Bartlet. Maybe you ought to think twice about interfering in matters that don't concern you. You'll only make trouble for yourself."

"So far I've only gotten trouble from you," Angela said. "And I understand that you happen to be one of the people who's not so sorry about Hodges' death. I understand you mistakenly blame him for your wife's death."

Robertson stopped directing traffic and turned to Angela. His chubby cheeks had become beet red. "What did you say?" he demanded.

Just then David slipped in between Angela and Robertson, forcing Angela away. He'd been eavesdropping on the conversation from a few feet away and he didn't like the direction it was taking.

Angela tried to repeat her statement, but David gave her arm a sharp tug. Through clenched teeth he whispered to her to shut up. When he got her far enough away he grabbed her shoulders. "What the hell has gotten into you?" he demanded. "You're taunting a man who's obviously got some kind of personality problem. I know you have a penchant for the dramatic but this is pushing it."

"He was ridiculing me," Angela complained.

"Stop it," David commanded. "You're sounding like a child."

"He's supposed to be protecting us," Angela snapped. "He's supposed to uphold the law. But he isn't any more interested in this threatening note than he is in finding out who murdered Hodges."

"Calm down!" David said. "You're making a scene."

Angela's eyes left David's and swept around the immediate area. A number of people had paused on their way into the church. They were all staring.

Self-consciously, Angela put the note away in her purse, smoothed her dress, and reached for Nikki's hand.

"Come on," she said. "Let's not be late for the service."

With Alice Doherty recruited to watch over Nikki and Caroline, David and Angela drove to the hospital. Nikki had met Caroline after the church service, and Caroline had accompanied them to the Iron Horse Inn for brunch.

At the hospital, David and Angela met Donald Schiller and his in-laws, the Josephsons, in the lobby. They sat on the benches to the right of the entrance to discuss the proposed autopsy.

"My husband has asked you for permission to do an autopsy," Angela said. "I'm here to tell you that I will be the one to do it if you agree. Since neither the hospital nor CMV will pay for this service, I'm offering to do it on my own time. It will be free. It also might provide some important information."