Robin Cook - Fatal Cure

"Is something wrong?" David asked.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Pilsner said. "I'm distracted. Caroline Helmsford took an unexpected turn for the worse during the night. I've been here almost continuously. I just went home to shower and change."

"What happened?" David asked.

"Come and see for yourself," Dr. Pilsner said. He started up the stairs. David had to jog to stay with him.

"She's in the ICU," Dr. Pilsner explained. "It started with a seizure of all things."

David's steps faltered. Then he had to sprint to catch back up to the quickly moving pediatrician. David didn't like the idea of Caroline having a seizure. It brought back disturbing memories of his own patients.

"Then pneumonia developed rapidly," Dr. Pilsner continued. "I've tried everything. Nothing seemed to make a difference."

They arrived at the ICU. Dr. Pilsner hesitated, leaning against the door. He sighed from exhaustion. "I'm afraid she's now in septic shock. We're having to maintain her blood pressure. It doesn't look good at all. I'm afraid I'm going to lose her."

They went into the unit. Caroline was in a coma. A tube issued from her mouth and was connected to a respirator. Her body was covered with wires and intravenous lines. Monitors recorded her pulse and blood pressure. David shuddered as he looked down at the stricken child. In his mind's eye he saw Nikki in Caroline's place, and the image terrorized him.

The ICU nurse handling Caroline gave a capsule report. Nothing had improved since Dr. Pilsner had left an hour earlier. As soon as Dr. Pilsner had been fully briefed, he and David walked over to the central desk. David used the opportunity to discuss Nikki's condition with him. Dr. Pilsner listened and then agreed that oral antibiotics were indicated. He suggested the type and dosage.

Before leaving the unit David tried to bolster Dr. Pilsner with an encouraging word. David knew all too well how the pediatrician felt.

Before seeing his office patients, David called Angela to tell her about Nikki's antibiotics. Then he told her about Caroline. Angela was dumbstruck.

"You think she's going to die?" Angela asked.

"That's Dr. Pilsner's feeling," David said.

"Nikki was with her yesterday," Angela said.

"You don't have to remind me," David said. "But Caroline was much better. She was afebrile."

"Oh, God," Angela said. "It seems to be one thing after another. Can you get the antibiotics for Nikki and take them home over your lunch hour?"

"Okay," David said agreeably.

"I'll be heading up to Burlington as planned," Angela said.

"You're still going?" David asked.

"Of course," Angela said. "Calhoun called me to confirm. Apparently he's already spoken to the officer in charge of the crime-scene division up in Burlington."

"Have a good trip," David said. He hung up before he could say something he might regret. Angela's priorities irked him. While he was worrying himself sick about Caroline and Nikki, she was still obsessed with the Hodges affair.

"I appreciate your seeing me," Calhoun said as he took a chair in front of Helen Beaton's desk. "As I told your secretary, I only have a few questions."

"And I have a question for you," Beaton said.

"Who should go first?" Calhoun asked. Then he held up his pack of cigars. "May I smoke?"

"No, you may not smoke," Beaton said. "There's no smoking in this hospital. And I think I should ask my questions first. The answer might affect the duration of this interview."

"By all means," Calhoun said. "You first."

"Who hired you?" Beaton asked.

"That's an unfair question," Calhoun said.

"And why is that?"

"Because my clients have a right to privacy," Calhoun said. "Now it's my turn. I understand that Dr. Hodges was a frequent visitor to your office."

"If I may interrupt," Beaton said. "If your clients choose to withhold their identity, then I see no reason to cooperate with you."

"That's up to you," Calhoun said. "Of course there are those who might wonder why the president of a hospital would have a problem speaking about her immediate predecessor. They might even start thinking you know who killed Hodges."

"Thank you for coming in," Beaton said. She stood up and smiled. "You won't goad me into talking, not without my knowing just who's behind your efforts. My main concern is the hospital. Good day, Mr. Calhoun."

Calhoun got to his feet. "I have a feeling I'll be seeing you again," he said.

Calhoun left administration and descended to the basement. His next interviewee was Werner Van Slyke. Calhoun found him in the hospital shop replacing electrical motors in several hospital beds.

"Werner Van Slyke?" Calhoun questioned.

"Yeah," Van Slyke said in his monotone.

"Name's Calhoun. Mind if I have a chat with you?"

"What about?"

"Dr. Dennis Hodges," Calhoun said.

"If you don't mind my working," Van Slyke said. He turned his attention back to the motors.

"Are these beds a frequent problem?" Calhoun asked.

"Unfortunately," Van Slyke said.

"Since you're head of the department, why are you doing them yourself?" Calhoun asked.

"I want to make sure it's done right," Van Slyke said.

Calhoun retired to the workbench and sat on a stool. "Mind if I smoke?" he asked.

"Whatever," Van Slyke said.

"I thought the hospital was a smoke-free environment," Calhoun said as he took out a cigar. He offered one to Van Slyke. Van Slyke paused as if he were giving it considerable thought. Then he took one. Calhoun lit Van Slyke's before his own.

"I understand you knew Hodges pretty well," Calhoun said.

"He was like a father to me," Van Slyke said. He puffed his cigar contentedly. "More than my own father."

"No kidding," Calhoun said.

"If it hadn't been for Hodges, I never would have gone to college," Van Slyke said. "He'd given me a job to work around his house. I used to sleep over a lot and we'd talk. I had a lot of trouble with my own father."

"How so?" Calhoun asked. He was eager to keep Van Slyke talking.

"My father was a mean son-of-a-bitch," Van Slyke said. Then he coughed. "The bastard used to beat the hell out of me."

"How come?" Calhoun asked.

"He got drunk most every night," Van Slyke said. "He used to beat me and my mother couldn't do anything about it. In fact, she got beat herself."

"Did you and your mother talk?" Calhoun asked. "Kinda team up against your father?"

"Hell, no," Van Slyke said. "She always defended him, saying he didn't mean it after he'd kicked the crap out of me. Hell, she even tried to convince me that he loved me and that was why he was hitting me."

"Doesn't make sense," Calhoun said.

"Sure as hell doesn't," Van Slyke said acidly. "What the hell are you asking all these questions for, anyway?"

"I'm interested in Hodges' death," Calhoun said.

"After all this time?" Van Slyke asked.

"Why not?" Calhoun said. "Wouldn't you like to find out who killed him?"

"What would I do if I found out?" Van Slyke said. "Kill the bastard?" Van Slyke laughed until he began coughing again.

"You don't smoke much, do you?" Calhoun asked.

Van Slyke shook his head after he'd finally controlled his coughing. His face had become red. He headed over to a nearby sink to take a drink of water. When he came back, his mood had changed.

"I think I've had enough of this chat," he said with derision. "I've got a hell of a lot of work to do. I shouldn't even be monkeying around with these beds."

"I'll leave then," Calhoun said as he slipped off the stool. "It's a rule I have: I never stay around where I'm not wanted. But would you mind if I returned some other time?"

"I'll think about it," Van Slyke said.

After leaving engineering Calhoun made his way around to the front of the hospital and walked over to the Imaging Center. He handed one of his cards to the receptionist and asked to speak with Dr. Cantor.