The Art of Forgetting (30 page)

              “No, not really,” Lloyd said.

              “No sponge, no BSE. But look carefully. There are low-grade, non-specific destructive changes. So here you have dead brain cells, ravaged kidneys, black granules in the liver…

              “What is this? What are you getting at?”

              Kowalski removed the final slide from the microscope stage, leaned back in his chair and pulled in a deep breath. “Lloyd, what I’m getting at is… your mouse was poisoned.”

              Chapter 30

              “
P
oisoned?” Lloyd said. “With what?”

              Kowalski shrugged. “I can try to send some tissue samples to toxicology. The little guy’s been marinating in formalin for a while but we should be alright.”

              “What do you suspect, Stan?”

              “It could be some sort of toxin…”

              “Or…” Lloyd tried to coax him.

              “My gut tells me it’s a heavy metal.”

              “Like mercury?” Lloyd said.

              “Is there thimerosal in your preparation?” Kowalski asked.

              “Oh, come on,” Lloyd said. “Thimerosal doesn’t do this.”

              “Yeah, you’re right. Of course it doesn’t.” Kowalski said.

              The two men looked at each other silently for half a minute.

              “When will we get the toxicology report?” Lloyd asked.

              “I’d say a day or two.”

              Lloyd rapped his fingers on the table. “I need to test some other samples. I’ll have my lab assistant get them to you.”

              “What did you have in mind?”

              “Just trying to cover all bases.” Lloyd got to his feet and shook Kowalski’s hand. “Thanks Stan. You did good. You did real good.”

              “My pleasure,” Kowalski said. Lloyd headed for the door. “Hey Lloyd, maybe we can get a beer sometime. You know, if you have time.”

              “I’d like that,” Lloyd said. He didn’t really mean it, but the guy might have just saved his ass. “Thank Cynthia for the cookies.”

              “Cyndi. Maybe we could have you over for dinner.” Kowalski was beaming.

              Lloyd nodded. “Yeah, sure. Maybe after things get less hectic.”

              For a moment, as he walked back towards the reception area of the pathology department, the thought of finding Todd English and kicking his ass crossed Lloyd’s mind. But that would be a bad move, especially being on probation. And he was practicing being polite now.

              Academic probation. He needed to put a stop to this nonsense right away. After all, everything started because of a bogus autopsy report: the block on his research, the investigation by the Institutional Animal Care and Use Committee, even the scuffle with the pathology fellow.

              He stepped on the elevator. He had to speak to Lasko immediately. He had to tell him that it had all been a big misunderstanding. As the elevator climbed with a steady hum Lloyd’s head started swimming. Where did that bogus autopsy report come from? How was his mouse poisoned? The elevator jolted to a stop and a moment passed before the aluminum doors parted. As he stepped off the elevator, he realized he couldn’t very well march into Lasko’s office and tell him what he had learned. At least not yet. He decided to head back to the lab to talk to Kaz.

              Lloyd stepped in his lab and froze. Kaz was sitting in front of his laptop looking sheepish. Next to him was Nick De Luca, half-sitting on a tall stool while George Lasko stood with his arms folded, a stern expression on his face.

              “What’s going on?” Lloyd asked.

              “Indeed, Dr. Copeland,” Lasko said. “That’s what I’m here to see for myself.”

              Lloyd glanced at Kaz, who just raised his eyebrows. De Luca said nothing and looked at the floor.

              “I had an interesting conversation with Dr. Norbert this morning,” Lasko said. “I think you know what I’m getting at.”

              Lloyd said nothing. If Lasko wanted to hang him, Lloyd wasn’t about to hand him the rope.

              “You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Lasko said raising a gnarled finger to the air.

              “If there’s something you want to discuss, please get to the point. I have patients to see,” Lloyd said.

              “Patients to see? Well we’ll see about that,” Lasko said with a thin grin.

              “What do you want?” Lloyd said.

              “I want the remaining vials of the prion,” Lasko said.

              “What for?”

              “You seem indignant when I’m the one who should be indignant here. As the new Chief of Staff I gave you a very clear and simple directive: cease your research activities. And do you show a modicum of respect? Not towards me, mind you, but for the office that I hold, for our institution. Not at all. You turn your back and inject more mice haphazardly, following no apparent research protocol. Well, I won’t have it. I won’t stand for insubordination in my hospital. You will inject no more mice with your lethal concoction.”

              “I’m done injecting mice,” Lloyd said.

              “Good,” Lasko said with a supercilious tone.

              “I’m going to start human trials,” Lloyd said.

              Lasko laughed. “You are deluding yourself, young man. Your research is over, don’t you understand? Done. Now if you’re smart you’ll fall in line and try to salvage what’s left of your pitiable career.”

              “You can’t stop me,” Lloyd said.

              “Watch me,” Lasko said. “Mr. De Luca, can you kindly have Dr. Copeland relinquish the remaining vials of prion?”

              De Luca took a step towards Lloyd and quietly said, “Dr. Copeland?  Would you mind unlocking the refrigerator?”

              “Relax, De Luca. There’s no more prion vials here.”

              “He’s lying,” Lasko said. “There should be five more vials.”

              Lloyd shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.” He walked to the refrigerator and unlocked it. Lasko peered into the empty compartment.

              “What have you done with them?” Lasko asked.

              “None of your business,” Lloyd said.

              “They don’t belong to you,” Lasko shouted.

              “They don’t belong to you either.”

              “That’s it,” Lasko said. “Effective immediately your clinical privileges at this institution are suspended.”

              “You can’t do that.”

              “Can’t I?”

              “You have no authority. That’s up to the Credentials Committee,” Lloyd said.

              “You really need to take a better look at our hospital’s bylaws manual,” Lasko said. “I have the authority to place a temporary suspension on the privileges of any physician who I believe presents an imminent danger to patient care. Credentials Committee is entrusted to make such a suspension permanent. I’ll have my secretary set up the hearing.” He marched to the door of the lab, turned and said, “You better polish up your resume, Dr. Copeland. You’ll be looking for a job real soon.” He jerked his head. “Are you coming, Mr. De Luca?”

              De Luca squeezed his lips together, put his hands in his pockets and shuffled towards the door. The two men left. The only sound in the lab was the humming of the refrigerator motors. Lloyd glanced at Kaz. The technician was staring at him.

              “What do you want me to say?” Lloyd said.

              Kaz shook his head. “How did this all happen?”

              “Wolfgang was poisoned,” Lloyd said.

              “What?” Kaz said.

              “I just spoke to Kowalski. The autopsy report was wrong.”

              “Poisoned? How?”

              “I don’t know yet. I need you to get blood samples on all the subjects,” Lloyd said.

              “All the mice?” Kaz asked.

              “Just the secret agents. Plus water and food samples, including your garden vegetables. Someone’s sabotaging our work, Kaz.”

              “But why?”

              Lloyd shook his head. He had no idea.

              Chapter 31

             
L
loyd sat at his desk and massaged his temples with his thumbs. He had been far too naïve. In the pursuit of his goal he had developed a tunnel vision that blinded him to the motivations of those around him. But if he was guilty of not wearing a cocktail personality, if he didn’t much care to foster friendships, he certainly didn’t intend to draw enemies. What could he have done to make anyone want to sabotage his work? 

              Somehow, Lasko had to be behind all of this. The man was itching to get rid of Lloyd. And now he seemed intent on taking possession of the prions. But why?

              Lloyd glanced at the phone on his desk and sighed. He would have to call Martin Bender to tell him what happened before the news floated to him through different channels. He leaned forward, grabbed the handset and dialed the number.

              “Hmm,” was all that Dr. Bender managed to say when Lloyd told him of his suspension.

              “I’m on the consult service,” Lloyd said.

              “We’ll get coverage, don’t worry,” Bender said. “What do you intend to do with your time?”

              “I don’t know what I
can
do,” Lloyd said.

              “You’ll teach. Your clinical privileges might be suspended but that only affects direct patient care. You can still teach. Do you think you can do that without getting into more trouble?”

              “At this point I honestly don’t know.”

              He hung up, got to his feet and stepped back out in the lab. Kaz was typing on his laptop.

              “How are the mice?” Lloyd asked.

              Kaz stopped typing and looked up at him. “They’re beautiful. How are you?”

              “Don’t worry about me, Kaz. I’ll be fine.”

              “You will not be fine,” Kaz said.

              “What do you mean?”

              “I know men like Dr. Lasko,” Kaz said. “Little generals. Power crazy, you know?” Kaz moved his index finger in a circular motion by his temple. “He will not be happy until you submit to him.”

              “Well, I’m not going to submit to him,” Lloyd said.

              “Then he’ll send you to a regiment in Siberia,” Kaz said. “Believe me, I know.”

              “There’s no Siberia here,” Lloyd said.

              “You’re wrong, Lloyd. Every place has its Siberia.”

              Chapter 32

             
O
ver the next few days, Lloyd delivered two lectures at the medical school and several less formal talks to the students rotating on the neurology clerkship. Surprisingly, it turned out not to be as much of a chore as he imagined it to be.

              Late one morning he met Erin for an early lunch. The cafeteria hadn’t opened yet so they bought sandwiches at a deli cart and stepped out onto the patio to enjoy the weather.

              “You doing okay, Lloyd?” Erin asked.

              “My research is blocked, my clinical privileges were suspended, I’m about to be fired… yeah, life is real good.”

              “Come on, things aren’t all bad,” Erin said. She smiled at Lloyd with a sparkle in her eyes.

              “No, you’re right.”

              “You know what you need?” Erin said.

              “Oh, Jesus, here it comes.”

              “What? You haven’t even heard what I’m about to say.”

              “Okay, Erin, bring it on,” Lloyd said. “Tell me what I need.”

              “You need a therapeutic distraction. Something to take your mind off of things.”

              “Therapeutic distraction?” Lloyd said. “Sounds like something a chiropractor might do.”

              “And I have just the thing for you,” Erin said.

              “Well, now you’re talking.”

              “Nothing like that, silly.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a couple of glossy tickets. She waved them in front of Lloyd’s face. “Look what I got! There’s a gala in a couple of weeks. It’s a fund raiser for that Alzheimer support group. Mrs. Devine gave them to me.”

              “You just killed the mood,” Lloyd said.

              “It would be great P.R. for you. You really need to get on her good side,” Erin said.