Robin Cook - Godplayer

“I was in surgery last night. I saw your office light from the lounge.”

“Must have been cleaning people,” said Ballantine. He raised his glass and stared at it. “Looks like I need a refill.”

“I also saw George Sherman’s car in the garage,” said Thomas. “It seemed an odd coincidence.”

“Ah,” said Ballantine, with a wave of his hand. “George’s been having trouble with that car for a month. Something with the electrical system. Can I get you another drink? You’re as low as I.”

“Why not?” said Thomas. He was sure Ballantine was lying. The moment the chief edged toward the bar, Thomas recommenced his search for the chairman. It was more important than ever to find out what was going on at the Memorial.

• • •

Cassi stayed by the buffet table for a while eating and chatting with several other wives. When she was sure she had absorbed enough calories to balance her insulin, she decided she’d better find Thomas. She had no idea what drugs he’d taken, and she was nervous. She had just started for the living room when George Sherman stopped her.

“You look beautiful, as usual,” he said with a warm smile.

“You look good yourself, George,” said Cassi. “I like you far better in a tuxedo than that old corduroy jacket of yours.”

George laughed self-consciously.

“I’ve been meaning to ask how you find psychiatry. I was surprised when I heard you’d made the switch. In a lot of ways, I envy you.”

“Don’t tell me you give psychiatry any credibility. I didn’t think any surgeon did.”

“My mother suffered a severe postpartum depression after my younger brother was born. I’m convinced her psychiatrist saved her life. I might have chosen it as a specialty if I thought I would have been successful. It takes a sensitivity I don’t have.”

“Nonsense,” said Cassi. “You have the sensitivity. I think it would be the passivity that would give you trouble. It’s the patient who has to do the work in psychiatry.”

George was silent for a moment, and as Cassi watched his face she suddenly thought of fixing him up with Joan. They were both such nice people.

“Are you interested in meeting an attractive new woman these days?”

“I’m always interested in attractive women. Though few measure up to you.”

“Her name is Joan Widiker. She’s a third-year psychiatry resident.”

“Wait a second,” said George. “I’m not sure I can handle a psychiatrist. She’ll probably ask me all sorts of tough questions when I drag out my whips and chains. I might be too self-conscious. Worse than when I was with you. Remember that first date?”

Cassi laughed. How could she forget? George had clumsily knocked her hand during dinner so that she’d spilled linguini Alfredo into her lap. Then, in his eagerness to help mop it up, he’d knocked her Chianti Classico into her lap as well.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” said George. “I do appreciate your thinking of me and I’ll give Joan a call. But Cassi, I wanted to talk to you about something a little more serious.”

Cassi unconsciously straightened, unsure of what was coming.

“As a colleague, I’m worried about Thomas.”

“Oh?” said Cassi as casually as she could.

“He works too damn hard. It’s one thing to be dedicated, quite another to be obsessed. I’ve seen it before. Often physicians can go along at nine hundred miles an hour for years and then suddenly burn themselves out. The reason I’m saying all this is to ask you to try to get Thomas to slow down, maybe take a vacation. He’s been wound up like a coiled spring. There’s gossip he’s had a couple of bad arguments with the residents and nurses.”

George’s words awakened all Cassi’s submerged tears. She bit her lip, but remained silent.

“If you could get him to take some vacation time, I’ll be happy to cover his practice if need be.” George was startled to see Cassi’s eyes fill with tears. She turned away, hiding her face.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” said George. Reaching out, he put his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s all right,” said Cassi, struggling to regain her composure. “I’m okay.” She looked up and managed a smile.

“Dr. Ballantine and I have discussed Thomas,” said George. “We’d like to help. We both think that when someone works as hard as Thomas, he has to recognize that there’s an emotional price to pay.”

Cassi nodded as if she understood. She gave George’s hand a squeeze.

“If you feel uncomfortable talking to me, maybe see Dr. Ballantine. He thinks the world of your husband. Maybe you’d like the chief’s private extension at the hospital?”

Cassi evaded George’s warm gaze. Concentrating on her purse, she extracted a small notepad and pencil. When George gave her the number, she wrote it down. When she looked up, her heart almost stopped. She found herself looking directly into Thomas’s unblinking stare. With knowledge born of intimacy, she instantly knew he was violently angry. All at once, George’s hand felt heavy on her shoulder.

She quickly excused herself, but by the time she moved toward the door, Thomas had disappeared.

Thomas hadn’t been so angry since he was a freshman in college and one of his roommates had dated Thomas’s girl friend. No wonder George had been acting so strangely. He’d been renewing his affair with Cassi, and Cassi had no more sense than to display her interest in front of all Thomas’s colleagues. The cold knot of fear in the pit of his stomach stirred. His hand shook so badly he almost spilled his drink. Quickly tossing it off, he stepped through the French doors onto the veranda, welcoming the sharp ocean breeze.

Frantically he searched his pockets for a pill. The evening had gone badly from the start. A trustee who’d already made several trips to the bar had stopped to offer congratulations on the hospital’s new teaching program. When Thomas had stared blankly in response, the man had muttered a quick apology and backed out of the room. Thomas had been about to search out Ballantine and demand an explanation when he’d seen Cassi.

God, what a fool he’d been. Now that he thought about it, it was obvious George and Cassi were having an affair. No wonder she never complained when he stayed so often in the hospital. Mercilessly his mind teased him with the idea that they met in his house. The image of George in their bedroom made Thomas cry out in rage. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a couple standing in the doorway, and Thomas was suddenly afraid they were aware of the affair. Obviously they were talking about him. He pulled out another pill, swallowed it, and went back inside for another drink.

Frantic to find Thomas, Cassi began to work her way around the living room, excusing herself as she squeezed among the guests.

She was on her way into the bar when she found herself face to face with Dr. Obermeyer.

“What a coincidence!” he said. “My most difficult patient!”

Cassi smiled nervously. She remembered she’d reneged on her promise to call him that day.

“Unless my memory fails, you were supposed to schedule your surgery today,” said Dr. Obermeyer. “Did you talk to Thomas about it?”

“Why don’t I come to your office tomorrow morning,” said Cassi evasively.

“Maybe I should talk to your husband,” said Dr. Obermeyer. “Is he here?”

“No,” said Cassi. “I mean, yes he’s here, but I don’t think this is the time…”

A tremendous yell shook the room, halting all conversation and stopping Cassi in midsentence. Everyone looked confused; everyone but Cassi. She recognized the voice. It was Thomas! Running back toward the dining room, she heard another shout, followed by a crash of broken glass.