Robin Cook - Fatal Cure

"I suppose I shouldn't ask how it went," David said as they pushed through the doors to the parking lot.

"It was terrible," Angela said. "She's upholding Wadley's decision. When I explained to her that sexual harassment was at the bottom of the whole affair, she denied that any sexual harassment had taken place."

"How could she deny it when you'd spoken with Dr. Cantor?" David asked.

"She said that she asked Dr. Wadley," Angela said. "And Dr. Wadley said there had been no sexual harassment. In fact, he claimed it had been the other way around. He told Beaton that if there had been any impropriety it was that I'd tried to seduce him!"

"A familiar ploy of the sexual harasser," David said. "Blame the victim." He shook his head. "What a sleazebag!"

"Beaton said she believed him," Angela said. "She told me he was a man of impeccable integrity. Then she accused me of having made up the story to try to get back at him for spurning my advances."

When they arrived home they collapsed into chairs in the family room. They didn't know what to do. They were too depressed and confused to do anything.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel in their driveway broke the heavy silence. It was Calhoun's truck. Calhoun pulled up to the back door. Angela let him in.

"I brought you some fresh doughnuts to celebrate the first day of your vacation," Calhoun said. He passed by Angela and dumped his parcel on the kitchen table. "With a little coffee we'll be in business."

David appeared at the doorway.

"Uh oh," Calhoun said. He looked from David to Angela.

"It's okay," said David. "I'm on 'vacation' too."

"No kidding!" Calhoun said. "Lucky I brought a dozen doughnuts."

Calhoun's presence was like an elixir. The coffee helped as well. David and Angela even found themselves laughing at some of Calhoun's stories from his days as a state policeman. They were in high spirits until Calhoun suggested they get down to work.

"Now," he said, rubbing his hands with anticipation. "The problem has been reduced to finding someone with a damaged tattoo who didn't like Hodges. That shouldn't be so hard to accomplish in a small town."

"There's a catch," David said. "Since we are unemployed, I don't think we can afford to employ you."

"Don't say that," Calhoun whined. "Just when this whole thing is getting interesting."

"We're sorry," David said. "Not only will we soon be broke, but we'll obviously be leaving Bartlet. So among other things, we'll be leaving this whole Hodges mess behind."

"Hold on a second," Calhoun said. "Let's not be too rash here. I've got an idea. I'll work for nothing. How's that? It's a matter of honor and reputation. Besides, we might be catching ourselves a rapist in the process."

"That's very generous of you…" David said. He started to say more but Calhoun interrupted him.

"I've already begun the next phase of inquiry," he said. "I found out from Carleton, the bartender, that several of the town's policemen, including Robertson, have tattoos. So I went over and had a casual chat with Robertson. He was more than happy to show me his. He's rather proud of it. It's on his chest: a bald eagle holding a banner that reads 'In God We Trust.' Unfortunately-or fortunately, depending on your perspective-the tattoo was in fine shape. But I used the opportunity to ask Robertson about Hodges' last day. Robertson confirmed what Madeline Gannon had said about Hodges' planning on seeing him, then canceling. So I think we're onto something. Clara Hodges may be the key. They were estranged at the time of the doc's death, but they still spoke frequently. I get the feeling living apart greatly improved their relationship. Anyway, I called Clara this morning. She's expecting us." He looked at Angela.

"I thought she'd moved to Boston," David said.

"She did," Calhoun said. "I thought Angela and I, er, now all three of us, could drive down."

"I still think Angela and I should drop this whole business, considering what's happened. If you want to continue, that's your business."

"Maybe we shouldn't be too rash," Angela said. "What if Clara Hodges can shed some light on the history of those patients who died? You were interested in that aspect of the case last night."

"Well, that's true," David admitted. He was curious to know how many similarities there were between Hodges' patients and his own. But he wasn't curious enough to visit Clara Hodges. Not after being fired.

"Let's do it, David," Angela said. "Let's go. I feel as if this town has conspired against us, and it bothers me. Let's fight back."

"Angela, you're beginning to sound a little out of control," David said.

Angela put her coffee cup down and grabbed David by the arm. "Excuse us," she said to Calhoun. Angela pulled David into the family room.

"I'm not out of control," she began once they were beyond Calhoun's earshot. "I just like the idea of doing something positive, of having a cause. This town has pushed us around the same way it's pushed Hodges' death under the carpet. I want to know what's behind it all. Then we can leave here with our heads held high."

"This is your hysterical side talking," David said.

"Whatever you want to call it is okay with me," Angela said. "Let's give it one more final go. Calhoun thinks this visit to Clara Hodges might do the trick. Let's try it."

David hesitated. His rational side argued against it, but Angela's pleas were hard to resist. Underneath his veneer of calm and reason, David was just as angry as Angela.

"All right," he said. "Let's go. But we'll stop and see Nikki first."

"Gladly," Angela said. She put out her hand. David halfheartedly slapped it. Then when he put out his own, Angela hit it with surprising force.

David's next surprise was that they had to take Calhoun's truck so Calhoun could smoke. But with Calhoun driving, they were able to pull right up to the front door of the hospital. Calhoun waited while David and Angela ran inside.

Nikki was much happier now that she was out of the ICU. Her only complaint was that she'd been transferred to one of the old hospital beds and, as usual, the controls didn't work. The foot would rise but not the head.

"Did you tell the nurses?" David asked.

"Yeah," Nikki said. "But they haven't told me when it will be fixed. I can't watch the TV with my head flat."

"Is this a frequent problem?" Angela asked.

"Unfortunately," David said. He told her what Van Slyke had said about the hospital purchasing the wrong kind of beds. "They probably saved a few dollars buying the cheap ones. But any money saved has been lost in maintenance costs. It's that old expression: penny-wise and pound-foolish."

David left Angela with Nikki while he sought out Janet Colburn. When he found her he asked if Van Slyke had been alerted about Nikki's bed.

"He has, but you know Van Slyke," Janet said.

Back in Nikki's room, David assured her that if her bed wasn't fixed by that evening, he'd do it himself. Angela had already informed her that she and David were on their way to Boston but would be back that afternoon. They'd come see her as soon as they were back.

Returning to the front of the hospital, Angela and David piled into Calhoun's truck. Soon they were on their way south on the interstate. David found the trip uncomfortable for more reasons than the truck's poor suspension. Even though Calhoun cracked his window, cigar smoke swirled around inside the cab. By the time they got to Clara Hodges' Back Bay address in Boston, David's eyes were watering.

Clara Hodges struck David as having been a good match for Dennis Hodges. She was a big-boned, solid woman with piercing, deep-set eyes and an intimidating scowl.

She invited them into her parlor decorated with heavy Victorian furnishing. Only a meager amount of daylight penetrated the thick velvet drapes. Despite being midday the chandelier and all the table lamps were turned on.