Robin Cook - Fatal Cure

Later when they were sitting around the table after the meal was complete, Angela expressed an interest in organizing the efforts for the following day.

"I'll start interviewing the tattooed hospital workers," Calhoun said. "I still think it's best for me to be the front man. We don't want any more bricks through your windows."

"I'll go back to medical records," David said. "I'll get the social security numbers and birth dates and see about getting descriptions of the tattoos."

"I'll stay with Nikki," Angela said. "Then when David's gotten the social security numbers and birth dates I'll take a run into Cambridge."

"What's the matter with sending them by fax?" David asked.

"We'll be asking for a favor," Angela said. "I can't just fire off a fax."

David shrugged.

"What about that Dr. Holster, the radiotherapist," Calhoun said. "Someone has to talk with him. I'd do it but I think one of you medical people would do a better job."

"Oh yeah," David said. "I forgot about him. I can see him tomorrow when I finish at medical records."

Calhoun scraped back his chair and stood up. He patted his broad, mildly protuberant abdomen. "Thank you for one of the best dinners I've had in a long, long time," he said. "I think it's time for me to drive me and my stomach home."

"When should we talk again?" Angela asked.

"As soon as we have something to talk about," Calhoun said. "And both of you should get some sleep. I can tell you need it."

Although Nikki suffered from abdominal cramps and diarrhea throughout the night, by morning she was better. She still wasn't back to one hundred percent, but she was clearly on the mend and had remained afebrile. David was vastly relieved. None of his hospital patients had showed this kind of improvement once their symptoms had started. He was confident that from here on Nikki's course would mirror his own and that of the nurses.

Angela woke up depressed about her job situation. She was surprised that David's spirits were so high. Now that Nikki was so much better, he confessed his darker fears to Angela.

"You should have told me," she said.

"It wouldn't have helped," David said.

"Sometimes you make me so angry," Angela said. But instead of pouting, she rushed to David and hugged him, telling him how much she loved him.

The phone interrupted their embrace. It was Dr. Pilsner. He wanted to find out how Nikki was doing. He also wanted to put in another plug for continuing her antibiotics and respiratory therapy.

"We'll do it as often as you tell us," Angela said. She was on the phone in the bedroom while David listened on the extension in the bathroom.

"Sometime soon we'll explain why we spirited her away," David said. "But for now, please accept our apology. Taking Nikki out of the hospital had nothing to do with the care you were providing."

"My only concern is Nikki," Dr. Pilsner said.

"You're welcome to stop by," Angela said. "And if you think that continued hospitalization is needed, we'll take her into Boston."

"For now, just keep me informed," Dr. Pilsner said curtly.

"He's irritated," David said after they'd hung up.

"I can't blame him," Angela said. "People must think we're nuts."

Both David and Angela aided Nikki in her respiratory therapy, taking turns thumping her back as she lay in the required positions. "Can I go to school on Monday?" she asked once they were done.

"It's possible," Angela said. "But I don't want you to get your hopes up."

"I don't want to get too far behind," Nikki said. "Can Caroline come over and bring my schoolbooks?"

Angela glanced at David who was petting Rusty on Nikki's bed. He returned Angela's gaze, and a wordless communication flashed between them. Both understood that they could no longer mislead Nikki no matter how much they hated to tell her the sad truth.

"There's something we have to tell you about Caroline," Angela said gently. "We're all terribly sorry, but Caroline passed away."

"You mean she died?" Nikki asked.

"I'm afraid so," Angela said.

"Oh," Nikki said simply.

Angela looked back at David. David shrugged. He couldn't think of what else to add. He knew that Nikki's nonchalance was a defense, similar to her response to Marjorie's death. David felt anger tighten in his throat as he recognized that both deaths could have been the work of the same misguided individual.

It took even less time than it had with Marjorie for Nikki's facade to crumble. Angela and David did what they could to console her, and her anguish tormented them. Both of them knew it was a devastating blow for her; not only had Caroline been her friend, but throughout her short life Nikki had been fighting the same disease from which Caroline had suffered.

"Am I going to die too?" Nikki sobbed.

"No," Angela said. "You're doing wonderfully. Caroline had a high fever. You have no fever at all."

Once they had calmed Nikki's fears, David set out for the hospital on his bike. Once he arrived, he went to medical records and immediately set about matching social security numbers and birth dates to the list of names he and Calhoun had compiled.

With that out of the way, David began to call up each medical record to sift through for descriptions of the tattoos. He hadn't gotten far when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to face Helen Beaton. Behind her was Joe Forbs from security.

"Would you mind telling me what you are doing?" Beaton asked.

"I'm just using the computer," David stammered. He hadn't expected to run into anyone from administration, particularly not on a Saturday morning.

"It's my understanding that you are no longer employed by CMV," Beaton said.

"That's true," David said. "But…"

"Your hospital privileges are awarded in conjunction with your employment by CMV," Beaton said. "Since that's no longer the case, your privileges must be reviewed by the credentials committee. Until that time you have no right to computer access.

"Would you please escort Dr. Wilson out of the hospital?" Beaton said to Joe.

Joe Forbs stepped forward and motioned for David to get up.

David knew it was pointless to protest. He calmly gathered up his papers, hoping Beaton wouldn't strip him of these documents. Luckily, Forbs simply escorted him to the door.

Now David could add "bodily thrown out of a hospital" to his brief and ignominious career record. Undaunted, he proceeded to the radiotherapy unit which was housed in its own ultra-modern building which had been designed by the same architect who had designed the Imaging Center.

The radiotherapy unit used Saturday mornings to see long-term follow-up patients. David had to wait half an hour before Dr. Holster could squeeze him in.

Dr. Holster was about ten years older than David, but he appeared even older than that. His hair was totally gray, almost white. Although he was busy that morning, he was hospitable and offered David a cup of coffee.

"So, what can I do for you, Dr. Wilson?" Dr. Holster said.

"You can call me David, for starters," David said. "Beyond that I was hoping to ask you some questions about Dr. Hodges."

"That's a rather strange request," Dr. Holster said. He shrugged. "But I guess I don't mind. Why are you interested?"

"It's a long story," David admitted. "But to make it short, I've had some patients whose hospital courses resembled some of Dr. Hodges' patients'. A few of these patients were ones you treated."

"Ask away," Dr. Holster said.

"Before I do," David said, "I'd also like to request this conversation be confidential."

"Now you're really piquing my curiosity," Dr. Holster said. He nodded. "Confidential it will be."

"I understand that Dr. Hodges visited you the day he disappeared," David said.