Robin Cook - Mindbend

In his usual two-fingered style, he called up Dr. Stuart Smyth’s file and was told again that the doctor was scheduled for a refresher course, a second cruise, that was to leave that very day.

Dressing quickly, Adam made up his mind. Christine had said he looked like Smyth, and he had seen the resemblance himself. He picked up the phone and dialed Miami information. When the operator answered, he requested the number for Arolen Cruises. The operator said in a nasal voice, “Sorry, but there is nothing listed under that name.”

Adam replaced the phone. Then he had another idea. This time he asked for a listing for the Fjord. No luck. There was a Fjord Travel Agency, but that didn’t sound promising.

Adam picked up his seersucker jacket and took it into the kitchen. The iron was on top of the refrigerator and he plugged it into the wall socket next to the sink. Folding a bath towel lengthwise, he put it on the kitchen card table and pressed out the jacket’s worst wrinkles. That was when he got the inspiration to call MTIC.

“There is no MTIC in the directory,” said the Miami operator, “but there is MTIC Cruise Lines.”

Elated, Adam took the number and tried to call. When a woman answered, he introduced himself as Dr. Stuart Smyth and asked if he were still expected on today’s cruise. His secretary had failed to confirm his reservation.

“Just one moment please,” said the woman. Adam could hear the faint sounds of a computer keyboard.

“Here it is,” she said. “Stuart Smyth of New York City. You’re expected with today’s OB-GYN group. You should be on board no later than 6:00 P.M.”

“Thank you,” said Adam. “Can you tell me one other thing? Do I need a passport or anything?”

“Any type of identification is fine,” said the woman. “You just need proof of citizenship.”

“Thanks,” said Adam, hanging up. How the hell was he going to get proof of Smyth’s citizenship?

For ten minutes Adam sat on the edge of the bed trying to make a decision. Except for the passport problem, the idea of impersonating Smyth on the Arolen cruise had a lot of appeal. There was no doubt in Adam’s mind that in order to change Jennifer’s impression of Vandermer he’d have to have damn good evidence of the man’s instability. Going on the cruise seemed the most promising course of action.

But could he impersonate a practicing OB man? And what if there were people on the cruise who were personal friends of Smyth? Impulsively, Adam decided he’d give it a try. What could he lose? If he ran into a personal friend of Smyth, he’d tell him that Smyth had sent him in his place. And if Arolen found him out, he’d simply say that he couldn’t function as a rep without more information. The worst they could do was fire him.

With the decision made, Adam jumped into action. His first call was to Clarence McGuire, whom he told that a family crisis would take him out of town for a few days. Clarence was instantly sympathetic, hoping that things would work out.

Adam’s next call was to the airlines to see what flight he could get to Miami. Between Delta and Eastern, he could go anytime he chose.

Finally, he worked up his courage to call Jennifer. His mouth went dry as he heard the connection go through. One ring. Another. Then Mrs. Carson picked up the phone.

Using all the graciousness he could muster, Adam said good morning and asked if he could talk with his wife.

“I’ll see if she is awake,” said Mrs. Carson coolly.

Adam was relieved when Jennifer said hello.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” said Adam.

“I wasn’t asleep,” said Jennifer.

“Jennifer,” said Adam. “I’m sorry about the other night. I don’t know what happened to me. But I want you to come home. The only trouble is that I have to go out of town for a few days for work.”

“I see,” said Jennifer.

“I’d prefer not to explain right now, but it is probably best for you to stay with your parents for a few more days.”

“I suppose you’re going down to Puerto Rico,” said Jennifer icily.

“No, I’m not,” said Adam.

“Where are you going?” asked Jennifer.

“I’d rather not say,” said Adam.

“Fine,” said Jennifer. “Have it your way. Incidentally, just in case you’re interested, I had the amniocentesis yesterday.”

“I know,” said Adam.

“How did you know?” asked Jennifer. “I tried calling you from seven in the morning on. You were never in.”

Adam realized that Mrs. Carson had not even told Jennifer that he’d phoned the previous evening. Getting his wife back was going to be an uphill battle.

“Well, you have a wonderful time on your trip,” said Jennifer coldly, and she hung up before Adam could even tell her how much he loved her.

Jennifer put down the phone wondering what could be so important that Adam would leave her at this difficult time. It had to be Puerto Rico, and yet Adam had never lied to her before.

“Anything new?” questioned Mrs. Carson.

Jennifer turned to face her parents.

“Adam is going on some kind of trip,” she said.

“How nice for him,” said Mrs. Carson. “Where is he going?”

“I don’t know,” said Jennifer. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Could he be having an affair?” asked Mrs. Carson.

“By George, he better not be,” said Mr. Carson, who lowered his Wall Street Journal and glared at the two women.

“He’s not having an affair,” said Jennifer irritably.

“Well, he’s surely acting inappropriately,” said her mother.

Jennifer got some Raisin Bran cereal and cut up a banana. Since she’d started the pregdolen, her nausea had all but disappeared. She carried her breakfast to the table and sat in front of the TV.

The phone rang again, and she leaped up, thinking it was Adam calling, having changed his mind about the trip. But when she picked up the phone, it was Dr. Vandermer on the other end.

“I’m sorry to be calling so early,” he said, “but I wanted to be certain to get you.”

“It’s all right,” said Jennifer, her stomach doing a flip-flop.

“I’d like you to come back to the clinic today,” said Dr. Vandermer. “I need to talk to you. Could you make it this morning some time around ten? I’m afraid I have surgery this afternoon.”

“Of course. I’ll be there at ten,” said Jennifer. She hung up the phone, afraid to ask what he wanted to talk about.

“Who was it, dear?” asked Mrs. Carson.

“Dr. Vandermer. He wants to see me this morning.”

“What about?”

“He didn’t say,” said Jennifer softly.

“Well, at least it can’t have anything to do with the amniocentesis,” said Mrs. Carson. “He told us the results take about two weeks.”

Jennifer dressed quickly, her mind trying to guess what Dr. Vandermer was going to tell her. Her mother’s comment about the amniocentesis test made her feel a bit better. The only other thing she could think of was that one of the blood tests had shown she was low on iron or some vitamin.

Mrs. Carson insisted on driving Jennifer to the Julian Clinic and going in with her for her appointment. They were escorted immediately to Dr. Vandermer’s new office, which smelled of fresh paint.

Dr. Vandermer stood when they entered and motioned for Jennifer and her mother to take the two chairs in front of his desk. Looking at his face, Jennifer knew that something was seriously wrong.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he said in a voice that betrayed no emotion.

Jennifer felt her heart leap. All at once the room felt intolerably hot.

“Normally it takes two weeks to get the results of an amniocentesis,” said Dr. Vandermer. “The reason is that tissue cultures have to be made in order to see the nuclear material properly. Occasionally, however, the abnormality is so apparent that the free cells in the amniotic fluid tell the story. Jennifer, like your mother, you are carrying a baby with Down’s syndrome. The karyotype is of the most severe type.”