Robin Cook - Fatal Cure

Angela introduced herself and David as the purchasers of Clara's home in Bartlet.

"Hope you like it better than I did," Clara said. "It was too big and drafty, especially for only two people."

She offered tea which David took with relish. Not only were his eyes burning from the secondhand smoke in the truck, but his throat was parched.

"I can't say I'm pleased about this visit," Clara said once her tea was poured. "I'm upset this ugly business has surfaced. I'd just about adjusted to Dennis's disappearance when I learned that he'd been murdered."

"I'm sure you share our interest in bringing his killer to justice," Calhoun said.

"It wouldn't matter much now," Clara said. "Besides, we'd all be dragged through some awful trial. I preferred it the way it was, just not knowing."

"Do you have any suspicions about who killed your husband?" Calhoun asked.

"I'm afraid there are a lot of candidates," Clara said. "You have to understand two things about Dennis. First off, he was bull-headed, which made him hard to get along with. Not that he didn't have a good side, too. The second thing about Dennis was his obsession with the hospital. He was at constant odds with the board and that woman administrator they recruited from Boston.

"I suppose any one of a dozen people could have gotten angry enough to do him in. Yet I just can't imagine any one of them actually beating him. Too messy for all those doctors and bureaucrats, don't you think?"

"I understand that Dr. Hodges thought he knew the identity of the ski-masked rapist," Calhoun said. "Is that a fair statement?"

"That's certainly what he implied," Clara said.

"Did he ever mention any names?" Calhoun asked.

"The only thing he said was that the rapist was someone connected to the hospital," Clara said.

"An employee of the hospital?" Calhoun asked.

"He didn't elaborate," Clara said. "He was purposefully vague. That man lived to lord things over you. But he did say he wanted to speak to the person himself, thinking he could get him to stop."

"Lordy," Calhoun said. "That sounds like a dangerous thing to do. Do you think he did?"

"I don't know," Clara said. "He might have. But then he decided to go to that abominable Wayne Robertson with his suspicions. We got into a fearful quarrel over the issue. I didn't want him to go since I was sure he and Robertson would only squabble. Robertson always did have it in for him. I told him to tell Robertson his suspicions by phone or write him a letter, but Dennis wouldn't hear of it. He was so stubborn."

"Was that the day he disappeared?" Calhoun asked.

"That's right," Clara said. "But in the end Dennis didn't see Robertson-not because of my advice, mind you. He got all upset over one of his former patients dying. He said he was going to have lunch with Dr. Holster instead of seeing Robertson."

"Was this patient Clark Davenport?" Calhoun asked.

"Why yes," Clara said with surprise. "How did you know?"

"Why was Dr. Hodges so upset about Clark Davenport?" Calhoun asked, ignoring Clara's question. "Were they good friends?"

"They were acquaintances," Clara said. "Clark was more a patient, and Dennis had diagnosed Clark's cancer which Dr. Holster had successfully treated. After the treatment Dennis had felt confident that they'd caught the cancer early enough. But then Clark's employer switched to CMV and the next thing Dennis knew, Clark was dead."

"What did Clark die of?" David asked suddenly, speaking up for the first time. His voice had an urgent quality that Angela noticed immediately.

"You've got me there," Clara said. "I don't recall. I'm not sure I ever knew. But it wasn't his cancer. I remember Dennis saying that."

"Did your husband have any other medically similar patients who ended up dying unexpectedly?" David asked.

"What do you mean by medically similar?" Clara asked.

"People with cancer or other serious diseases," David said.

"Oh, yes," Clara said. "He had a number. And it was their deaths that upset him so. He became convinced that some of the CMV doctors were incompetent."

David asked Angela for copies of the admission sheets she and Calhoun had gotten from Burlington. As Angela was searching for them, Calhoun pulled out his set from one of his voluminous pockets.

David fumbled with the papers as he unfolded them. He handed them to Clara. "Look at these names," he said. "Do you recognize any?"

"I'll have to get my reading glasses," Clara said. She stood up and left the room.

"What are you so agitated about?" Angela whispered to David.

"Yeah, calm down, boy," Calhoun said. "You'll get our witness all upset and she'll start forgetting things."

"Something is beginning to dawn on me," David said. "And I don't like it one bit."

Before Angela could ask David to explain, Clara returned with her reading glasses. She picked up the papers and quickly glanced through them.

"I recognize all these people," Clara said. "I'd heard their names a hundred times, and I'd met most of them."

"I was told all of them died," Calhoun said. "Is that true?"

"That's right," Clara said. "Just like Clark Davenport. These are the people whose deaths had particularly upset Dennis. For a while I heard about them every day."

"Were their deaths all unexpected?" Calhoun asked.

"Yes and no," Clara said. "I mean it was unexpected for these people to die at the particular time they did. As you can see from these papers, most of the people were hospitalized for problems that usually aren't fatal. But they all had battled terminal illnesses like cancer, so in that sense their deaths weren't totally unexpected."

David reached out and took the papers back. He glanced through them quickly, then looked up at Clara. "Let me be sure I understand," he said. "These admission summary sheets are the admissions during which these people died."

"I believe so," Clara said. "It's been a while, but Dennis carried on so. It's hard to forget."

"And each of these patients had a serious underlying illness," David said. "Like this one admitted for sinusitis."

Clara took the sheet and looked at the name. "She had breast cancer," Clara said. "She was in my church group."

David took the sheet of paper back from Clara and rolled it up with the others. Then he stood up and walked over to the window. Pulling back the drapes, he stared out over the Charles River, ignoring the others. He seemed quite distracted.

Angela was mildly embarrassed at David's poor manners, but it was apparent that Clara didn't mind. She simply poured them all more tea.

"I want to ask a few more questions about the rapist," Calhoun said. "Did Dr. Hodges ever allude to his age or height or details such as whether or not he had a tattoo?"

"A tattoo?" Clara questioned. A fleeting smile flashed across her face before her frown returned. "No, he never mentioned a tattoo."

With a swiftness that took everyone by surprise, David returned from the window. "We have to leave," he said. "We have to go immediately."

He rushed for the door and pulled it open.

"David?" Angela called, astonished at his behavior. "What's the matter?"

"We've got to get back to Bartlet immediately," he said. His urgency had grown to near panic. "Come on!" he yelled.

Angela and Calhoun gave a hurried goodbye to Clara Hodges before running after David. By the time Angela and Calhoun got out to the truck, David was already behind the wheel.

"Give me the keys," he ordered.

Calhoun shrugged and handed them to David. David started the truck and gunned the engine. "Get in," he shouted.

Angela got in first, followed by Calhoun. Before the door was closed behind them, David hit the gas.

For the first portion of the trip no one spoke. David concentrated on driving. Angela and Calhoun were still shocked by the sudden, awkward departure. They were also intimidated by the rapidity with which they were overtaking other motorists.