Robin Cook - Mindbend

Cora leaned forward and put her face to the eyepiece. Soon the hairline pointer moved to a pair of identical chromosomes. Cora started to explain the suspected abnormality, but Adam interrupted her.

“Are those X chromosomes?” asked Adam.

“Absolutely,” said Cora. “But…”

Adam again interrupted her and asked Dr. Vandermer to take a look. “Do you see the X chromosomes?”

“I do,” said Dr. Vandermer, “but like you, I can’t appreciate the abnormality that Cora is talking about.”

“I’m not concerned about the abnormality,” said Adam. “I’m concerned about the two X chromosomes. Just a moment ago on the ultrasound image you pointed out that my child is a boy. This slide we are looking at is a girl.”

Dr. Vandermer had straightened up when Adam had begun to talk. His face wiped clean of all expression.

Cora immediately turned to the microscope. “He’s right,” she said. “This slide is of a girl.”

Slowly Dr. Vandermer raised his right hand to his face. Cora flipped over the edge of the slide tray and checked the number. Then she checked the number on the slide. They matched. Getting the main register, she checked the number there. The name was Jennifer Schonberg. Looking very pale, Dr. Vandermer told Adam to wait for a moment.

“Has anything like this ever happened before?” asked Adam when the doctor had gone.

“Never,” said Cora.

Dr. Vandermer reappeared with a large man in tow. Like Dr. Vandermer, he was wearing a long white coat. Dr. Vandermer introduced him to Adam as Dr. Ridley Stanford. Adam recognized the name. He was the author of the textbook on pathology that Adam had used during his second year of medical school, and had been chief of pathology at University Hospital.

“This is a disaster,” said Dr. Vandermer after Dr. Stanford had taken a look.

“I agree,” said Dr. Stanford, his voice as emotionless as Vandermer’s. “I can’t imagine how this could have happened. Let me make some calls.”

Within a few minutes there were ten other people crowded around the microscope.

“How many amniocenteses were done yesterday?” asked Dr. Vandermer.

Cora glanced at the book. “Twenty-one,” she said.

“They all have to be repeated,” said Dr. Vandermer.

“Absolutely,” said Dr. Stanford.

Turning to Adam, Dr. Vandermer said, “We owe you a vote of thanks.” The others echoed his sentiments.

Adam felt as if a huge black cloud had been lifted from over his head. His child was not some kind of genetic monster. The first thing he wanted to do was call Jennifer.

“We would be honored if you would stay for lunch,” said Dr. Stanford. “There’s a fabulous pathology lecture on retroperitoneal tumors which you might find interesting.”

Adam excused himself and hurriedly descended to the main lobby. He couldn’t believe that in the face of the current disaster they wanted him to stay for lunch and a lecture! There was no question but the place was weird. Passing the front door en route to the telephone, Adam was pleased to see that his car was still where he’d left it.

Adam first called the apartment, but there was no answer. Thinking that Jennifer might have gone home with her mother, he dialed the Englewood number, but there was no answer there, either.

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam decided to go back to the apartment. He ran out of the Julian Clinic, got in his car, and started for home.

His excitement at the good news was beginning to give way to a heightened sense of uneasiness about the Julian Clinic and Dr. Vandermer. It had been only a lucky break that he’d noticed the discrepancy. What if he hadn’t and Jennifer had had an abortion!

Adam felt all his anxieties return in a rush. He’d narrowly averted one catastrophe, but unless he could get Jennifer to switch from both Vandermer and the clinic, there might be more. For a while he’d abandoned the thought of the Arolen cruise. Now it looked again as if it might be the only way to get the evidence to prove Vandermer was dangerous. Adam looked at his watch. It was twelve-twenty. Still time to make the Fjord by six o’clock.

Reaching his apartment door, Adam was disappointed to find the police lock engaged. He found Jennifer’s impersonal note and decided to call Englewood once again. He was pleased when Jennifer answered instead of her mother.

“I’ve got good news and bad.”

“I’m in no mood to play games,” said Jennifer.

“The good news is that they got your specimen mixed up at the clinic. Someone else’s baby has the bad chromosomes. They mixed up the slides.”

For a moment Jennifer was afraid to ask if Adam were telling the truth or if this were just some sort of plot to make her lose faith in Vandermer. The news seemed too good to be true.

“Jennifer, did you hear me?”

“Is it true?” asked Jennifer tentatively.

“Yes,” said Adam, and he described how he’d noticed the discrepancy in relation to the sex of the cell.

“What did Dr. Vandermer say?” asked Jennifer.

“He said that all the amniocenteses done that day have to be repeated.”

“Is that the bad news you were referring to?” asked Jennifer.

“No,” said Adam. “The bad news is that I’m still going out of town, unless you promise me something.”

“What do I have to promise?” asked Jennifer skeptically.

“Promise to see Dr. Wickelman for the remainder of your pregnancy and stop taking pregdolen.”

“Adam…” said Jennifer, drawing out his name impatiently.

“I’m more convinced than ever that there is something strange about the Julian Clinic,” said Adam. “If you agree to see Dr. Wickelman, I’ll promise not to interfere with anything he suggests.”

“Mistakes happen every day in hospitals,” said Jennifer. “Just because one happened at the Julian Clinic doesn’t mean I shouldn’t go there. It seems like the ideal place to have my baby now that I’ve gotten over that episode with Cheryl Tedesco. I like the people there and the atmosphere.”

“Well,” said Adam. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Where are you going?” asked Jennifer.

“I’d rather not say,” said Adam.

“Under the circumstances,” said Jennifer, “don’t you think that you should stay here? Adam, I need you.”

“That’s a little hard to believe with you at your parents’ and me alone in the apartment. I’m sorry, but I have to run. I love you, Jennifer.”

Adam hung up and called Eastern Airlines before he had time to have second thoughts. He booked a seat on a flight leaving for Miami from LaGuardia in forty-eight minutes.

Adam got his small Samsonite suitcase from the closet and began packing. Just as he was cramming in his toilet articles, the phone rang. Adam reached out his hand, but then, for once in his life, ignored the sound. Even a minute’s delay would make him miss his flight.

Jennifer waited, letting the phone ring on and on. Finally, she hung up. Right after speaking with Adam, she’d decided that she’d be willing to see this Dr. Wickelman if it meant so much to Adam. She could at least give the man a chance, and if she didn’t feel comfortable with him, she could always go back to Dr. Vandermer. But Adam had apparently left. Jennifer felt abandoned. Before she took her hand off the receiver, the phone rang again. Hoping it was Adam, she picked it up before the first ring was complete. It was Dr. Vandermer.

“I assume you have heard the good news.”

“Yes, Adam just told me,” said Jennifer.

“We are very grateful to your husband,” said Dr. Vandermer. “It is unusual for someone to notice a secondary abnormality in the face of an overwhelmingly positive finding.”