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Robin Cook (24 page)

BOOK: Robin Cook
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“Thanks,” said Adam as his flight was announced over the loudspeaker, the flight he hoped to be on. He dropped the receiver and ran back to the counter, where he practically flung himself at the clerk he'd originally approached.

“Please, Miss, I've got to get on the plane. My wife is having a baby and it's going to die unless I get to New York.”

For the first time, Adam had the feeling that someone was taking pity on him. The girl stared into his frantic eyes and said, “I'll put you on top of the standby list.”

Adam allowed himself a little hope, but a few more passengers arrived breathlessly and were given boarding passes. Then a portly man showed up with a walkie-talkie. He went through the boarding gate and pulled it closed behind him.

“Mr. Schonberg,” called Carol, the airline clerk.

Adam dashed back to the desk, but Carol was shaking her head. “Sorry, but the plane is completely full. No standbys at all.”

Crushed, Adam collapsed into a seat. He could hear the whine of the jet engines starting up outside. Then the boarding door reopened and a stewardess appeared, holding up one finger.

The clerk turned to Adam. “Seems like there is one seat, but it is in smoking. Do you want it?”

• • •

Unfortunately, the receptionist who greeted Jennifer at the Julian Clinic was the same girl who had helped admit Cheryl Tedesco. Seeing Karen Krinitz in her white blouse and blue jumper, Jennifer remembered the whole awful episode. Karen, however, acted as if they'd never met. She greeted Jennifer and her mother with the same mechanical smile.

“Hi! I'm Karen. I've been assigned to your case. I'm here to help if you have any questions or problems. We want your stay to be as pleasant as possible, so please call me if you need anything.”

“Well, isn't that nice,” said Mrs. Carson, but Jennifer had the strange feeling she had heard the entire speech before—word for word.

Karen went on, explaining the Julian philosophy. When she was done, Mrs. Carson thanked her enthusiastically, saying, “I'm not sure I'll ever be
satisfied with Englewood Memorial after this. There is so much concern for the patient here.”

Jennifer nodded. The clinic certainly cared about people. Yet Karen's speech bothered Jennifer. She had felt it was a little too pat the first time she'd heard it.

Jennifer sighed. She decided the experience with Cheryl was upsetting her. Who cared if a woman memorized a speech that she was required to give to all the patients?

“Are you all right, dear?” asked Mrs. Carson.

“I'm fine, mother,” said Jennifer as she watched Karen recede down the hall. “Thanks for coming with me today. It means a lot to me.”

Mrs. Carson reached over and gave her daughter a hug. She didn't want Jennifer to know how worried she really was.

• • •

The moment Adam's plane landed at Kennedy he ran for the nearest phone booth. First, he called the Julian Clinic and asked to be put through to Jennifer's room. There was no answer. Then he dialed again and asked when Jennifer's procedure was scheduled. When the operator asked who wanted to know, he said Dr. Smyth. The operator seemed to accept his answer, and a moment later a nurse came on the line and said that Jennifer Schonberg was set for that afternoon.

“So she hasn't been done yet?” said Adam.

“Not yet, but she's been called for the OR. Dr. Vandermer is almost ready for her.”

Adam fumbled with his coins and dialed the Julian Clinic a third time, this time asking to have Dr. Vandermer paged. An OR nurse picked up and
said the doctor was unavailable, but should be done with his current case in thirty minutes.

With renewed panic, Adam called the lawyer that Harvey had recommended, Emmet Redford. Shouting that it was a life-or-death situation, he finally got put through. As briefly as possible, Adam told the lawyer that his wife was going to have an abortion and that he wanted to stop her.

“There's not much you can do, my friend,” said Mr. Redford. “According to the Supreme Court, a husband cannot block his wife's abortion.”

“That's incredible,” said Adam. “It's my child, too. Isn't there anything you can do?”

“Well, I might be able to delay it.”

“Do it!” shouted Adam. “Whatever you can!”

“Give me her name and all the particulars,” said Mr. Redford.

Adam did so as quickly as he could.

“When is she scheduled to have the abortion?” asked Mr. Redford.

“In thirty minutes or so,” said Adam desperately.

“Thirty minutes! What do you expect me to do in half an hour?”

“I've got to go,” said Adam. “She's at the Julian Clinic. There's no time to lose.”

Adam dropped the phone and ran through the terminal to the taxi stand. Leaping into the first cab in line, he yelled for the driver to take him to the Julian Clinic.

“You got money?” the cabbie asked, eyeing Adam's casual dress.

Adam pulled out his twenty, hoping it would be enough. Satisfied, the man put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.

• • •

Jennifer was lying on a gurney just outside the treatment room. Her mother was standing beside her, and Jennifer was again forcibly reminded of her earlier visit to the Julian with Cheryl. Mrs. Carson was smiling, feigning confidence, but it was clear she was as nervous as her daughter.

“Why don't you go back to the lounge?” suggested Jennifer. “I'll be fine. From what Dr. Vandermer says, it's going to be easy.”

Mrs. Carson glanced at her daughter, undecided as to what she should do.

“Please,” said Jennifer. “Don't make a big deal out of this. Go back and read a magazine.”

Relenting, Mrs. Carson bent down, kissed Jennifer on her forehead, and headed back toward the lounge. Jennifer watched her go with mixed emotions.

“OK,” said the nurse, emerging from the treatment room. “We're all ready for you.” She released the brake on the gurney and pushed Jennifer through the door. In contrast to the room where she'd had her amniocentesis, this room looked very much like an OR. Jennifer remembered the white floor and large white glass-fronted cabinets.

Two nurses were waiting. As they moved her to the table, one said, “It will all be over very soon, and you'll be able to forget the whole episode.”

As she lay back, Jennifer thought she felt the child move. She struggled not to cry as one of the nurses prepped her lower abdomen.

The door to the corridor opened, and Dr. Vandermer came in, dressed in a surgical scrub suit. Jennifer felt better the moment she saw him.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“OK, I guess,” said Jennifer faintly.

Jennifer wanted him to say something else, but
he just stared at her with unblinking eyes. She looked questioningly at the nurses, but they didn't seem to think there was anything odd about his silence. Then Vandermer seemed to come out of his trance and asked the nurses to hand him the anesthetic.

“You'll just feel a little sting now,” said Dr. Vandermer flatly. With a deft jab he slipped the needle beneath Jennifer's skin.

Closing her eyes, Jennifer tried also to close her mind to what was about to happen.

• • •

The cab ride from Kennedy Airport to the Julian Clinic was hair-raising. Once Adam had flashed his twenty, the driver acted as if he were in a race for his life. He screeched to a halt in front of the hospital in less than thirty minutes. Adam tossed him the twenty and dashed up the stairs without waiting for change.

Interrupting the girls chatting at the reception desk, he demanded to know where Vandermer was operating.

“He's performing an abortion on my wife,” he gasped.

“Pregnancy terminations are done on the sixth floor, but . . .”

Adam didn't wait for her to finish. He ducked into an elevator just as the doors were closing, ignoring the receptionist who yelled after him that he was not allowed to go to six unaccompanied.

When the elevator stopped, Adam got out and made for the double doors at the end of the hall marked “Treatment Rooms.” As he passed the nurses' station, he noticed the elaborate antique
furniture and wondered what the Julian was trying to prove.

One of the nurses yelled for him to stop, but Adam kept running. He went through the double doors and opened the first treatment room door. It was empty. He went on to the next. A nurse tried to bar his way, but he was able to look over her shoulder at the patient's face. It wasn't Jennifer.

Adam crossed the hall and tried another door.

“Exactly what do you think you are doing?” asked a nurse with a German accent.

Adam rudely shoved the woman aside. He saw Dr. Vandermer bending over the table. He was holding a hypodermic whose needle sparkled under the overhead light.

“Jennifer!” shouted Adam, relieved that the surgery had proceeded no further than her being given the local anesthetic. “Don't do it, please. Don't have the abortion. Not without further tests.”

Jennifer started to sit up as two orderlies rushed through the door and pinned Adam's arms behind his back. Adam saw that both men had the same unblinking stares as the stewards on the ship.

“OK, OK,” said Adam. “You've made your point. You're stronger than I am. Now kindly let me go.”

“Adam Schonberg?” said Dr. Vandermer. Until he'd heard Adam's voice, he'd thought they were dealing with a psychotic stranger. “What are you doing here? Jennifer just told me you were out of town.”

“Please don't go ahead with the procedure. There's something I must tell you.”

As if suddenly remembering the orderlies, Dr. Vandermer tapped the nearest on the shoulder and said, “I know this man. You can let go of him.” He undid his mask and let it fall on his chest.

The orderlies released Adam as the door to the corridor opened and a number of clinic staff members peered in to see what was happening.

“Everything is under control,” said Dr. Vandermer. Addressing the orderlies, he said, “Why don't you two wait outside.”

As soon as they left, he guided Adam to a small anteroom, promising Jennifer they would both be back in a minute.

As soon as the door was closed, Adam blurted out, “I managed to get on one of the Arolen cruises.”

Dr. Vandermer stared at him as if just noticing the jeans and St. Thomas tee shirt for the first time. If he knew what Adam was talking about, he gave no indication.

“I'm happy you got to go,” was all he said. “We can compare notes later. Right now I need to take care of your wife. Why don't you go down to the lounge and wait for me? I won't be long.”

“But you don't understand,” said Adam. “The Arolen cruises are more than continuing education sessions. They're a cover for an elaborate behavior-modification scheme.”

Dr. Vandermer debated what to do. Adam was obviously psychotic. Maybe he could persuade him to go over to Psychiatry, where someone with experience could help him. Taking a step forward, Dr. Vandermer put his arm around Adam's shoulder. “I think the person you should be talking with is Dr. Pace. Why don't we go downstairs and I'll introduce you to him?”

Adam pushed Dr. Vandermer's arm away. “I don't think you heard what I said. I'm talking about drug-induced behavior modification. Dr. Vandermer, you were a victim. You were drugged. Do you understand me?”

Dr. Vandermer sighed. “Adam, I know you believe what you are saying, but I was not drugged on my cruise. I gave lectures. It was a delightful time, as were the days I spent in Puerto Rico.”

“I saw it all,” said Adam. “I was on the
Fjord.
I saw how they drugged the doctors' food and kept giving them yellow pills. Then they were subjected to these films. It was mind control. Look, you've got to believe me. Think. Why did you change your mind about pregdolen? Before you went on the cruise, you thought the drug was unsafe. You told me you'd never prescribe it.”

“I've never changed my mind about pregdolen,” protested Dr. Vandermer. “I've always thought it was the best product on the market if one were forced to use medication for morning sickness.”

Realizing he was making no headway, Adam grabbed Dr. Vandermer's hand. Looking directly into the doctor's eyes, he said, “Please, even if you don't believe me, please don't abort my child. I think the lab mixup that occurred with the amniocentesis slides was deliberate. I think Arolen is trying to increase its supply of fetal tissue, and this is how it is done.”

The door to the room opened.

“Dr. Vandermer,” said the nurse in the doorway, “what are we to do?”

Dr. Vandermer waved her away.

“Adam,” he said kindly, “I can appreciate how upset you must be with the way things have turned out.”

“Don't be condescending,” warned Adam as he rubbed his eyes. “All I want is to delay the abortion. That's all. I don't think that's asking too much.”

BOOK: Robin Cook
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