Robin Cook - Fatal Cure

"I'd heard from a couple of my teenage patients that marijuana was easily available in the local high school," David said.

"There you go," Robert said. "Maybe on top of whatever else you and Angela solve, you can do your part to help make America drug-free."

David laughed and thanked Robert again for all his help.

"Let me know when you guys next come to town," Robert said. "There's a great restaurant here in Cambridge called Anago Bistro. It will be my treat."

"Will do," David said as he waved goodbye. On his way out to the car, David doubted he'd feel comfortable getting together.

After stowing the computer data in the trunk, David drove across the Charles River and out the Fenway. It took only twenty minutes to get to the VA hospital; Sunday midafternoon was a traffic low.

Walking into the hospital, David thought it was ironic how lives could intersect after years of separation. He'd dated Nicole Lungstrom for almost a year, starting in the last part of junior year of high school. But after graduation she'd gone off to the West Coast for college, medical school, and residency. At one point David had heard through friends that she'd married. When she'd called the previous year, David had learned she'd been divorced.

David had Nicole paged and waited for her in the lobby. When she first appeared and they greeted each other, they were both uneasy. David quickly learned that there was a new man in Nicole's life. David was pleased, and he began to relax.

For privacy, Nicole took David into the doctors' lounge. Once they were seated he told her the whole story of his and Angela's disastrous sojourn in Bartlet. He then told her what he wanted.

"What do you think?" David asked. "Would you mind seeing what information is available?"

"Will this be just between us?" Nicole asked.

"My word of honor," David said. "Except for Angela, of course."

"I assumed that," Nicole said. She pondered the situation for a few minutes, then nodded. "Okay," she said. "If someone is killing patients then I think the ends justify the means, at least in this instance."

David handed Nicole the short list of people: Devonshire, Van Slyke, Forbs, Ullhof, and Maurice.

"I thought you were only interested in two," Nicole said.

"We know all five of these people were in the military," David said. "And all five have tattoos. We might as well be thorough."

Using the social security numbers and birth dates Nicole obtained the military ID numbers on each person. She then began calling up the records. There was an immediate surprise. Both Forbes and Ullhof had also been given medical discharges. Only Maurice had mustered out normally.

Both Forbs' and Ullhof's discharge diagnoses were pedestrian: Forbs was released because of chronic back problems while Ullhof had been discharged because of nonspecific, chronic prostatitis.

Van Slyke's and Devonshire's were not so innocuous. Van Slyke's was the most complicated. Nicole had to scroll through page after page of material. Van Slyke had been discharged with a psychiatric diagnosis of "schizo-affective disorder with mania and strong paranoid ideation under stress."

"Good Lord," David said. "I'm not sure I understand all that. Do you?"

"I'm an ophthalmologist," Nicole said. "But I gather the translation is that the guy is schizophrenic with a large component of mania."

David looked at Nicole and raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like you know more about this stuff than I do," he said. "I'm impressed."

"I was interested in psychiatry at one point," Nicole said. "This Van Slyke fellow sounds like the kind of person I'd stay away from. But for all his mental trouble, look at all the schooling he went through, even nuclear power school. I hear that's quite rigorous."

Nicole continued to scroll through the material.

"Wait," David said, leaning on her shoulder. He pointed to a passage that described an incident where Van Slyke had had a psychiatric break while on patrol on a nuclear submarine. At the time, he'd been working as a nuclear-trained machinist's mate for the engineering department.

David read aloud: " 'During the first half of the patrol the patient's mania was apparent and progressive. He exhibited elevated mood which led to poor judgment and feelings of hostility, belligerence, and ultimately to persistent paranoid thoughts of being ridiculed by the rest of the crew and being affected by computers and radiation. His paranoia reached a climax when he attacked the captain and had to be restrained.' "

"Good grief," Nicole said. "I hope I don't see him in the clinic."

"He's not quite as wacko as this makes him sound," David said. "I've even spoken to him on several occasions. He's not sociable or even friendly, but he does his job."

"I'd say he was a time bomb," Nicole said.

"Being paranoid about radiation while on a nuclear submarine isn't so crazy," David said. "If I ever had to be on a nuclear submarine, it would drive me up the wall knowing I was so close to a nuclear reactor."

"There's more history here," Nicole said. She read aloud: " 'Van Slyke has a history of being a loner type. He was raised by an aggressive, alcoholic father and a fearful and compliant mother. The mother's maiden name was Traynor.' "

"I'd heard that part of the story," David said. "Harold Traynor, the fellow's uncle, is the chairman of the board of trustees."

"Here's something else interesting," Nicole said. She again read aloud: "The patient has demonstrated the tendency to idealize certain authority figures but then turn against them with minor provocation, whether real or fancied. This behavior pattern has occurred prior to entering the service and while in the navy." Nicole looked up at David. "I certainly wouldn't want to be his boss."

Moving on to Devonshire, they found less material, but it was just as interesting and even more significant as far as David was concerned. Clyde Devonshire had been treated for sexually transmitted diseases on several occasions in San Diego. He'd also had a bout of hepatitis B. Finally he'd tested positive for HIV.

"This might be really important," David said, tapping the computer screen and making reference to the AIDS virus. "The fact that Clyde Devonshire has a potentially terminal illness himself could be the key."

"I hope I've helped," Nicole said.

"Could I get copies of these records?" David asked.

"That might take some time," Nicole said. "Medical records is closed on Sundays. I'll have to get a key to get access to a printer."

"I'll wait," David said. "But I'd like to use the phone first."

After much grumbling and a few tears, Nikki finally accepted the fact that it was not in her best interest to traipse around the neighborhood trick-or-treating. The day that had started out so clear had turned gray. A distinct threat of rain was in the offing. But Nikki still dressed up in her fearful costume and derived enormous fun from going to the door and scaring the handful of children who showed up.

Angela still hated Nikki's costume, but she held her tongue. She was not about to detract from Nikki's enjoyment.

While Nikki hovered by the door waiting for more trick-or-treaters, Angela tried Calhoun one more time. Again, she got his answering machine. When she called earlier that afternoon, she'd left a message as David suggested, but Calhoun had never called back. Angela began to worry. Looking out the window at the gathering gloom, she also began to worry about David. Although he'd called many hours ago to say he'd be a bit later than expected, she thought he should have been home by now.

Half an hour later, Nikki was willing to call it quits. It was growing dark and getting late for trick-or-treaters. No one had been by for some time.

Angela was thinking about starting dinner when the doorbell chimed. Nikki had already gone upstairs to take a bath, so Angela headed for the front door. As she passed the table in the front hall, she picked up the glass bowl with the chocolates. Through the side light window she caught a glimpse of a reptile-headed man.