Death Benefit (30 page)

“I think it’s safe,” Pia said. “I don’t think it was ever unsafe.”

“Good to hear.” O’Meary straightened up to his full height. He jerked his thumb toward Pia’s ceiling. “I think we’ve isolated the problems with the short. It’s up there, so we should be outa your hair by lunch tomorrow.”

Pia didn’t respond. She doubted the problem would ever get solved. Besides, she wouldn’t be there at noon tomorrow or any other day.

“I hope we won’t be bothering you too much tomorrow,” O’Meary said, trying to be considerate. He tried to go around her. Pia stopped him.

“I know you’ve only been here a couple of days, but did you see anything unusual yesterday morning? Before all the excitement started. Anything that struck you as odd?”

“That Springer guy asked me already, and the Disease Control people. They took a long time about it.”

“I’m sure they were very thorough, but I’m wondering, because you were in here all morning and in different parts of the lab with your wires, if you saw anyone early on who you didn’t see in the lab later. Anyone who looked like he didn’t belong.”

O’Meary narrowed his eyes, but playfully.

“What are you, a cop now?”

“No, I’m not a cop.”

“I wasn’t working in that bio unit where they got sick, so I wouldn’t know about anyone in there. Are you sure this place is safe? The disease people were asking about contamination, like ‘Before the contamination . . .’ and so on. Is it really safe in here?”

“I’m sure it’s safe. I came back and I’m not about to take a risk with that bacteria.”

“So why the questions? You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m just making some of my own inquiries. Supposedly nothing abnormal was found here in the lab or in the biosafety unit. Did you see Dr. Rothman or Dr. Yamamoto at all?”

“I didn’t even know which one was which. There was a lot of people in and out of this lab, dropping stuff off.”

“Do you know Arthur Spaulding, the head technician?”

“Yeah, he was introduced to us when we first came on the job.”

“Did you see him when you were in Rothman’s office?”

“Sure, a few times. Quick ins and outs.”

“Anyone else more than once?”

“The secretary, Martha.”

“Marsha.”

“Whatever, yeah. You know, you sound an awful lot like a cop.”

“I’m not a cop, just a student who has a few questions. Sorry to keep you. But if you think of anything unusual, just find me.”

“Are you gonna be here?”

“Actually, no. Let me give you my cell phone number. If you remember anything, please call. I rarely use it, but I’ll pick up a message.”
A message that I can ignore if it’s not germane,
thought Pia. She usually made it a point not to give out her cell number. O’Meary wrote it down.

“Okay, I got it.”

Over O’Meary’s shoulder Pia saw Spaulding say good night to Marsha and leave. She silently applauded. She was now free to go and check out the storage freezer.

To be on the safe side, Pia did a circuit of the lab to see who else was around. A couple of the other support personnel were tidying up in the main lab area, and Marsha was busy around the front desk, but there was no one there who might go into the biosafety unit. Stepping into Spaulding’s office, she took the microbiological storage freezer log from where she knew Spaulding kept it in his desk. In the anteroom of the unit she quickly suited up, and once inside the unit itself, she used her own key to enter the large walk-in storage freezer. The door closed automatically behind her. She was surprised the interior light was on, which was odd, because Spaulding was scrupulous about turning it off when he left. As Pia started to contemplate what that might mean, the door was yanked open. Pia’s heart leaped in her chest. She found herself face-to-face with an equally surprised Arthur Spaulding.

“What are you doing here?” Pia asked quickly, feigning indignation.

“I came to turn off the light. More to the point, what are
you
doing here? This is off-limits to anyone but Nina Brockhurst, Panjit Singh, Mariana Herrera, and me. You know that. And how did you get in, damn it?”

“I have a key,” Pia said, producing it and dangling it in front of her masked face. “Dr. Rothman gave it to me, and he gave me authorization to come in here.”

Spaulding snatched the key roughly out of Pia’s hand, causing her to start again.

“Maybe you didn’t hear, but Dr. Rothman isn’t around anymore to give you his authorization.”

“I bet you’re happy about that,” Pia blurted. As soon as the comment left her mouth she regretted it.

“For now I’m in charge of this lab, and from this point on, you no longer have authorization. And I’ll take that too.” Spaulding snatched the logbook that Pia was holding.

Pia stood there for a couple of beats, deciding what to do. She’d recovered from the shock of Spaulding’s unexpected appearance and now was just angry. She’d never liked the man. She brushed past Spaulding heading toward the freezer door.

“You’re not the princess anymore, Pia darling. Your access to this entire lab is revoked, as I’m sure the dean would be happy to confirm if I asked.”

Pia said nothing. In the anteroom she took off her protective garb and passive aggressively left them where they fell. Seething, she walked back into her tiny office and packed up the few belongings and files she’d accumulated in three-plus years. She found an empty box and put them in it. Without looking back, she closed the office door and walked toward the entrance to the lab. Marsha Langman didn’t look up as she passed by. What a bunch of jerks, Pia thought.

 

 

I
n a huff, Pia headed back to the dorm, but then she remembered George in the library. Reversing her direction, she quickly found him and got his attention. She then left. He quickly closed the journal he was reading and followed her out into the hall. He had to jog to catch up with her. It was no secret she was angry.

“Can I ask what happened? You weren’t gone long. Was the lab still off-limits?”

“Maybe it would have been better if it had been,” Pia said. “I hope you’re hungry because I’m starved.”

“I’m hungry enough. Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

“Fine,” Pia said.

They exited the hospital. It was cold and dark. They walked quickly.

“You still haven’t told me what happened,” George reminded Pia.

“What happened was that prick Spaulding surprised me at the storage freezer and ended up kicking me out of the lab for good. The dummy left the light on and came back to turn it off. My bad luck he’s so anal. Figures, he’s a huge asshole.”

“You can’t be surprised he got mad. And why do you care if he kicked you out of the lab? You’re going to another lab come Monday. You can strike another staff member off your Christmas card list.”

“I don’t send Christmas cards.”

“It’s a figure of speech, you know what I mean. So now the lab’s really off-limits, right?”

Pia nodded. “I guess so.”

“So there’s not much more you can do, unless you want to break into Springer’s office.”

Pia looked over at George with confusion.

“I’m joking. Seriously, there’s nothing more you can do. You’ve talked to the doctor in charge of Rothman and Yamamoto’s care and now you can’t go back into the lab. You have to let it go and let the authorities do their work. You can be sure there’s an investigation going on. So you should drop it. Yes?”

Pia wasn’t hearing George’s plea at all.

“Pia, are you listening to me?”

Far from dropping it, Pia was now wondering whether Spaulding was hiding something. Yet what could she do? And what was she going to do with the rest of her life? Without her mentor and his program, was research still a possibility? Becoming a physician had seemed to offer safety in her life, something she coveted. But Rothman had made her realize that her discomfort with patients, with other people in general, might not bode well for such a career. She was at a crossroads in her life and had no answers. Thinking about it made her anxious.

Pia let out a sigh and George asked her what was up. Pia ignored the question. She suddenly knew that her preoccupation with finding out what had happened to Rothman was allowing her to avoid thinking about her career and the decisions she was facing. It was her first line of defense. The future could wait. Pia stopped walking and pulled George to a stop just outside the dorm.

“I’m not giving this up. I’ve got to find out why this tragedy happened. There are too many questions. Every time I stop and think, there are more questions; more people acting strangely. The infectious disease people insisted on using a fifty-year-old antibiotic and the patients died within hours despite being diagnosed and treated. And no one, I mean no one, liked Rothman. All his colleagues were jealous of him having a Lasker and a Nobel and possibly being in line for another. Okay, Spaulding was mad that I was in the storage facility, which he has always been weirdly proprietary about, and he knew I’d been in his desk since I was holding the logbook. But he was acting bizarre, like the lab was now his. The moron is only a fucking technician. He’s not a researcher. And what about the fact that I, a mere medical student, was the one to pick up the peritonitis? Maybe if they had gotten him to surgery sooner, he would still be alive.”

“What do you want me to say?” George asked. He tried to look Pia in the eye but she avoided it.

“Does it really sound like I’m paranoid? Don’t answer. Whatever, I’m not finished looking into all this as there doesn’t seem to be anyone else doing it.”

“How many times do I have to remind you that this is one of the premier medical centers in the world? Do you really believe you have anything to add? You’re going to flame out, Pia. Is that what you want? Do you have a career death wish?”

Pia thought for a moment. “Maybe.”

“Even if you persist in this self-destructive investigation or whatever you call it, I don’t see what your options are. Springer, Bourse, Spaulding—you’re on a last warning from all of them.”

“I’m not afraid of Spaulding. He took my key, but I still know where Rothman kept his. He was acting like he had something to hide.”

“As I said before, I think this is crazy. Look, if you insist on pursuing it, why don’t you check out the autopsies? There’s probably a simple pathological explanation for Rothman and Yamamoto’s clinical course. Or even a complex explanation, I don’t know. But that’s where you’re going to find the answers, not pissing off everybody in the hospital. The autopsies were probably done today so they could dispose of the bodies because they’re still hot.”

“Hot?” Pia said.

“Yeah, hot, as in contaminated with salmonella,” George said sharply. Sometimes Pia could be a little slow on the uptake. She still looked bemused, as if her mind wasn’t making a connection. “You understand what I’m saying?”

“Like you’d say someone full of virus is ‘hot.’ ”

“Exactly. No Pathology Department wants to keep hot bodies around. I tell you what you should do: Find one of the pathology residents tonight and ask what they know, or what they can find out. You haven’t worn out your welcome in that department yet. Have you?”

“Actually, that’s a good idea. I didn’t think of that.”

“If you want to look into that, I’ll come with you, so you stay within the lines.” George smiled as he said it. He wasn’t reprimanding her, he was joking because he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep her out of trouble if she was determined to get into it. She’d more than proved it.

“But I’m not going back to the lab,” he added. “If you want to do that, you’re on your own. Spaulding is bound to have alerted security. And what does it mean if there’s a sample missing in the freezer? What does that prove? Other than the fact that Spaulding’s not as good at his job as he’d like to think. Which is another thing you knew already.”

“I don’t think Spaulding would alert anyone. He doesn’t have that kind of authority, despite his big talk. But at the moment I’m not thinking about going back to the lab. I think I’ll follow your suggestion and check with Pathology. As I said, I hadn’t thought of that. It’s a good suggestion.”

“Then I’ll tag along. I know, I’d feel guilty if I don’t go and you get carried away again and get yourself kicked out of school.”

“I don’t care one way or the other,” said Pia. She was intrigued. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of it.

 

 

T
he wind blew fiercely down Haven Avenue and into the canyon of 168th Street. Pushed from behind, Pia and George made rapid but chilly progress from the dorm toward the medical center. It was raining, and George struggled with a cheap umbrella until it finally turned inside out for the third time. He stuffed it headfirst into a trash can. Pia strode on, head down, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled tightly over her head.

Once inside the hospital, they descended into the labyrinthine bowels of the nearly century-old building to the morgue. It was malodorous and poorly lit and filled with outdated equipment. The morgue served as a way station for the dead: In simple cases, bodies would be picked up by a funeral home. A van from the OCME, the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, would come if there were complicating factors.

Both Pia and George found it difficult to reconcile this run-down, dirty place with the hospital and medical center as they knew it. Some campus buildings were slightly shabby on the outside but pristine and modern within. The morgue was unkempt inside and out, and at this time of the evening seemed to have been deserted by anyone from the realm of the living. Old-fashioned wooden meat-locker-style doors with metal signs proclaiming that only authorized personnel were to be admitted were the order of the day. The only noise in the godforsaken place was a low-grade electrical hum and the drip of water onto cement floor.