Robin Cook (25 page)

“It depends from whose point of view you're
talking about.” He pointed toward the treatment room. “Jennifer might feel differently. To delay at this point would be cruel for her. She's already been through more than enough.”

Adam realized he was losing the battle. Desperately, he sought some way to get through to the doctor.

“Now,” Vandermer said firmly. “Why don't you go down to the lounge and wait. I'll be there shortly.”

“No,” shouted Adam, blocking the way. “You haven't heard everything.”

“Adam!” shouted Dr. Vandermer. “Move out of my way or I'll be forced to have you removed.”

“Listen, I think some of the people running the cruise have had psychosurgery. I'm telling you the truth. They had scars on the sides of their heads. Right here.” Adam reached out to touch the spot he meant on Vandermer's head. When he did, he jumped back in horror. Tiny ridged lines were on either side of the doctor's skull. Adam could just see the healing incisions. Dr. Vandermer reacted angrily.

“This has gone far enough.” He opened the door and motioned for the two orderlies to take Adam away. “Please show Mr. Schonberg down to the lounge. He can wait there if he behaves himself, but if he gives you any trouble, call Psychiatry.”

Adam put up his hands. “I won't cause any trouble,” he said softly. The last thing he wanted was to be given some kind of tranquilizer. He realized that if Vandermer had undergone some sort of psychosurgery, there was no way he could be persuaded of Arolen's treachery.

“May I speak to my wife?” he said.

Dr. Vandermer eyed Adam for a moment and
then shook his head. “I don't think it is in Jennifer's best interests, but I will let her make the decision.”

He opened the door to the treatment room and stepped inside. Jennifer pushed herself up on her elbow. “What is happening?” she asked anxiously.

Dr. Vandermer briefly described his scene with Adam, ending with Adam's request to talk with her. “He seems to have been unable to deal with the stress of your pregnancy” was the only thing Vandermer had to offer by way of an opinion.

“Well, he certainly hasn't made the situation any easier for me,” said Jennifer. “I'm sorry he's caused you so much trouble.”

“There's no need to apologize,” said Dr. Vandermer. “I think we should get on with the procedure. You can deal with Adam when we are done.”

Jennifer nodded. “Why did he have to come back? You're right. I don't think I can handle Adam just now. Why don't you just go ahead while I'm still in control?”

Dr. Vandermer smiled reassuringly and motioned for the nurse to begin setting up again. Then he returned to the anteroom and told Adam that Jennifer would speak to him afterward.

Adam realized there was no use in protesting further. Numbly, he followed the orderlies down the corridor.

Dr. Vandermer rescrubbed and went back into the treatment room. Picking up the hypodermic, he gave Jennifer the local anesthetic. He was just about to begin the procedure when the door opened again.

“Dr. Vandermer, I'm afraid you'll have to hold up on this case.”

Jennifer opened her eyes. Standing at the door
was a stocky woman dressed in a scrub suit. Jennifer didn't recognize her, but Dr. Vandermer did. It was Helen Clark, director of the ORs at the Julian Clinic.

“We have just been served with an emergency restraining order. We cannot proceed with Jennifer Schonberg's abortion.”

“On what grounds?” asked an astonished Dr. Vandermer.

“I don't know the details,” said Mrs. Clark, “but it is signed by a New York Supreme Court judge.”

Dr. Vandermer shrugged and turned back to Jennifer.

“Don't do anything foolish,” warned Mrs. Clark. “Defying a court order would get us all in trouble.”

“This is ridiculous,” said Dr. Vandermer. “Litigation in the operating room.” But he took off his mask and gloves.

Seeing that he was about to leave, Jennifer bit down on her lower lip to keep from screaming.

• • •

After Vandermer had thrown him out of the treatment room, Adam had immediately phoned Emmet Redford. The lawyer told him that he'd called in an old favor and had gotten a restraining order. It was on its way to the clinic as they spoke. Adam went back to the lounge, praying that the papers would be served in time. Seeing Mrs. Carson bent over a magazine, he took a chair out of her line of vision.

Less than five minutes later a nurse hurried over to Mrs. Carson. She bent and whispered something to the older woman who then threw up her hands and cried, “Her abortion has been canceled!”

Adam felt like cheering until he heard Jennifer's sobs as she was wheeled down the corridor. He and Mrs. Carson both ran over to her and ended up standing on opposite sides of the gurney.

“Jennifer,” said Adam, grasping her hand. “Everything is going to be all right.”

She wrenched her hand away, crying hysterically, “Leave me alone. You've gone crazy. Leave me alone.”

Adam stepped away and sadly watched the gurney continue down the corridor.

“Are you responsible for this disaster?” sputtered Mrs. Carson.

Adam was too upset to answer. Was it a disaster to prevent an unnecessary abortion? Close to tears himself, he turned and walked blindly to the elevator. Once out on the street, he checked his wallet. Only three dollars and some change left. He decided he'd better take the subway to Emmet Redford's Fifth Avenue office.

“Sorry about my clothes,” said Adam when the secretary ushered him in. “I didn't want to waste any time going home to change.”

Mr. Redford nodded, although he was disturbed by Adam's appearance. In fact, he was disturbed by the whole case. Though he'd arranged for the restraining order, he felt Adam's claims were dubious at best, especially in light of the information he'd just received from the assistant he had assigned the case to.

“I think I should be frank,” Redford began. “I agreed to help out as a favor to Harvey, but there are a number of points that seriously trouble me.”

“I couldn't agree more,” said Adam. “I think the Julian Clinic is deliberately doing unnecessary abortions.”

“I see,” said Redford, taking in Adam's unkempt hair and unshaven face.

“But the real problem,” continued Adam, “is that Arolen Pharmaceuticals and its parent company, MTIC, have an elaborate program involving drugs and even brain surgery to influence the way doctors practice medicine.”

This man is nuts, thought Redford with dismay.

Adam's voice became more urgent. “But now that I've learned all this,” he said, “I don't know what to do about it.”

“I can understand your dilemma,” said Redford, wondering if Adam were potentially violent. He certainly seemed excitable. Redford pressed a concealed button under his desk and said, “Mr. Schonberg, do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

“Not at all,” said Adam.

“Have you ever sought professional help for your obsessions? I think that might be in everyone's best interest.”

“What I'm telling you is true,” protested Adam.

There was a soft knock on the door. Redford got up to open it and told his secretary to ask Mr. Stupenski to join them. “I'm afraid a grand jury wouldn't give much credence to your allegations,” he said to Adam while they waited.

Adam searched the lawyer's face for some hint that the man believed him. There was none.

“I guess you're right,” admitted Adam. “The only proof I have is what I saw.”

The door opened again and a young man wearing a pin-striped suit identical to Redford's came into the room.

“This is my associate, Mr. Stupenski,” said Redford.

Adam said hello and then tried once more to
convince Redford that his story was true. “They drug the food on the cruises and supplement those doses with yellow pills that have to be some kind of tranquilizer.”

“So you say, Mr. Schonberg, but the problem is you have no proof,” repeated Redford.

The lawyers exchanged knowing glances. Adam stared at them in frustration.

“I think I should tell you that given the amniocentesis report that the clinic showed Mr. Stupenski, I'm sorry we went about getting the restraining order,” said Redford. “As it is, it remains in force only until the emergency hearing three days from now, and since I'm certainly not going to argue for the motion, you can expect it will be rescinded at that time. Good day, Mr. Schonberg.”

It took Adam a moment to realize that the interview was over.

• • •

Four hours later, washed and shaved and dressed in his best suit, Adam was sitting outside his father's office waiting for Dr. Schonberg to finish with his last appointment. It was after six o'clock.

When Dr. Schonberg was finally free, he listened with some impatience to what even Adam had to admit sounded farfetched.

“I simply can't believe this,” he told Adam. “Look, if it will make you feel better, let me call Peter Davenport of the AMA. He's the guy who certifies the courses for CME credits. He's been on several of the cruises himself.”

Dr. Schonberg dialed Davenport at home and jovially asked his opinion of the Arolen cruises. After listening for a few minutes, he thanked the man and hung up.

“Pete says the seminars on the
Fjord
are completely above board. Some of the evening entertainment was a little risqué, but otherwise the conferences were among the best he's attended.”

“He was probably drugged like the rest of them,” said Adam.

“Adam, please,” said Dr. Schonberg. “You are being ridiculous. MTIC has been sponsoring seminars and medical conventions either under its own auspices or through Arolen Pharmaceuticals for over a decade. The cruises have been going on for five years.”

“That may be,” said Adam, losing hope of convincing even his own father, “but I swear to you they are drugging the doctors and subjecting them to rigorous behavior modification. They even operate on certain people. I saw the scars on Dr. Vandermer myself. I think they are controlling him through some kind of remote-control device.”

Dr. Schonberg rolled his eyes. “Even given the small amount of psychiatry that you've had, Adam, I would think you would be able to recognize how paranoid your story sounds.”

Adam abruptly stood up and started for the door.

“Wait,” called Dr. Schonberg. “Come back here for a minute.”

Adam hesitated, wondering if his father would relent.

Dr. Schonberg tilted back his chair. “Let's say for the sake of discussion that there is something to your story.”

“That's gracious of you,” said Adam.

“What would you have me do? I'm the director of new products for the FDA and I can't espouse a wild theory like yours. But seeing you are so upset,
perhaps I should go on one of these cruises and see for myself.”

“No,” interrupted Adam. “Don't go on the cruise. Please.”

“Well, what would you like me to do?”

“I guess I want you to start an investigation.”

“I'll make you a deal,” said Dr. Schonberg. “If you agree to see a psychiatrist and explore the possibility that you may be experiencing some sort of paranoid reaction, I'll make further explorations into Arolen.”

Adam took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. If one more person suggested that he see a shrink, he'd scream.

“Thanks, Dad,” he said. “I'll give your offer some serious thought.”

As he rode back to the airport, Adam wondered just what kind of treatment Arolen had given Pete Davenport of the AMA and how much of the medical profession was under MTIC's control.

• • •

Adam landed at LaGuardia around nine and took a cab back to the city. The thought of returning to his empty apartment was depressing, and he was very concerned about Jennifer. Although he dreaded having to drive out to Englewood and brave the Carsons' anger, he didn't feel he had much choice. He had to talk to Jennifer.

There were no lights on at the Carson house when he pulled into the drive. Cautiously, he walked up the front steps and pressed the doorbell. He was surprised when the door opened almost immediately.

“Your headlights shone right into our bedroom,”
Mr. Carson said angrily. “What on earth do you want at this hour?”

“I'm sorry if I woke you,” said Adam, “but I need to speak to Jennifer.”

Mr. Carson folded his sizable arms across his chest. “Well, you have some nerve. I'll give you credit for that, but my daughter refuses to speak to you. Maybe she'll change her mind after a few days, but for the moment . . .”

“I'm afraid that I must insist,” said Adam. “You see, I don't believe she needs an abortion . . .”

Mr. Carson grabbed Adam's shirt and shouted, “You will insist on nothing!” He shoved Adam back from the doorway.