Side Effects by Michael Palmer Page A
Authors: Michael Palmer
Tags: Fiction, thriller, Suspense, Medical, Mystery, Mystery & Detective - General, Fiction - Espionage
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sounds like as good a name as any," Kate said. "Are these the tubes? Good. I'll have new labels made up."
"I'll send Finn over to the boy's place, and then I'll tell the news noses they will just have to wait until the microscopies are processed. Now, when can you give me a report on the goings on at the WMH?"
"Well, beyond what I've already told you, there's not much to report. We've got some sort of ovarian micro sclerosis in two women with profound deficiencies of both platelets and fibrinogen. At this point, we have no connections between the two, nothing even to tell us for sure that the ovarian and blood problems are related."
"So what's next?"
"Next? Well, Tom Engleson, the resident who was involved with Beverly Vitale, is trying to get some information from the roommate of the WMH woman."
"And thou?"
Kate held her hands to either side, palms up. "No plan. I'm on surgicals this month, so I've got a few of those to read along with a frozen or two from the OR. After that I thought I'd talk to my friend Marco Sebastian and see if that computer of his can locate data on a woman named Ginger Rittenhouse."
"Sounds good," Willoughby said. "Keep me posted." He seemed reluctant to leave.
"Is there anything else?" Kate asked finally.
"Well, actually there is one small matter."
"All right, let me have it." Kate knew what was coming.
"I ... um ... have a meeting scheduled with Norton Reese this afternoon. Several members of the search committee are supposed to be there and well ... I sort of wondered if you'd had time to ..." Willoughby allowed the rest of the thought to remain unspoken.
Page 36
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Kate's eyes narrowed. He had promised her a week, and it had been only a few days. She wasn't at all ready to answer. There were other factors to consider besides merely "want to" or "don't want to." Willoughby had to understand that. "I've decided that if you really think I can do it, and you can get all those who have to agree to do so, then I'll take the position," she heard her voice say. The girl's name was Robyn Smithers. She was a high school junior, assigned by Roxbury Vocational to spend four hours each week working as an extern in the pathology department of Metropolitan Hospital. Her role was simply defined: do what she was told, and ask questions only when it was absolutely clear that she was interrupting no one. She was one of twelve such students negotiated for by Norton Reese and paid for by the Boston School Department. That these students learned little except how to run errands was of no concern to Reese, who had already purchased a new word processor for his office with the receipts from having them.
Robyn had made several passes by Sheila Pierce's open door before she stopped and knocked.
"Yes, Robyn, what can I do for you?"
"Miss. Pierce, I'm sorry for botherin' you. Really I am."
"It's fine, Robyn. I was beginning to wonder what you were up to walking back and forth out there."
"Well, ma'am, it's this blood. Doctor Bennett, you know, the lady doctor?"
"Yes, I know. What about her?"
"Well, Dr. Bennett gave me this here blood to take to ..." she consulted a scrap of paper, "Special Chemistries, only I can't find where that is. I'm sorry to bother you while you're working and all."
"Nonsense, child. Here, let me see what you've got."
Casually, Sheila glanced at the pale blue requisition form. The patient's name, John Schultz, meant nothing to her. That in itself was unusual. She made it her business to know the names of all those being autopsied in her department. However, she acknowledged, occasionally one was scheduled without her being notified. In the space marked
"Patient's Hospital Number" the department's billing number was written. The request was for a screen for drugs of abuse. Penned along the margin of the requisition was the order, "STAT: Phone results to Dr. K. Bennett ASAP."
"Curiouser and curiouser,"
"I'll send Finn over to the boy's place, and then I'll tell the news noses they will just have to wait until the microscopies are processed. Now, when can you give me a report on the goings on at the WMH?"
"Well, beyond what I've already told you, there's not much to report. We've got some sort of ovarian micro sclerosis in two women with profound deficiencies of both platelets and fibrinogen. At this point, we have no connections between the two, nothing even to tell us for sure that the ovarian and blood problems are related."
"So what's next?"
"Next? Well, Tom Engleson, the resident who was involved with Beverly Vitale, is trying to get some information from the roommate of the WMH woman."
"And thou?"
Kate held her hands to either side, palms up. "No plan. I'm on surgicals this month, so I've got a few of those to read along with a frozen or two from the OR. After that I thought I'd talk to my friend Marco Sebastian and see if that computer of his can locate data on a woman named Ginger Rittenhouse."
"Sounds good," Willoughby said. "Keep me posted." He seemed reluctant to leave.
"Is there anything else?" Kate asked finally.
"Well, actually there is one small matter."
"All right, let me have it." Kate knew what was coming.
"I ... um ... have a meeting scheduled with Norton Reese this afternoon. Several members of the search committee are supposed to be there and well ... I sort of wondered if you'd had time to ..." Willoughby allowed the rest of the thought to remain unspoken.
Page 36
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Kate's eyes narrowed. He had promised her a week, and it had been only a few days. She wasn't at all ready to answer. There were other factors to consider besides merely "want to" or "don't want to." Willoughby had to understand that. "I've decided that if you really think I can do it, and you can get all those who have to agree to do so, then I'll take the position," she heard her voice say. The girl's name was Robyn Smithers. She was a high school junior, assigned by Roxbury Vocational to spend four hours each week working as an extern in the pathology department of Metropolitan Hospital. Her role was simply defined: do what she was told, and ask questions only when it was absolutely clear that she was interrupting no one. She was one of twelve such students negotiated for by Norton Reese and paid for by the Boston School Department. That these students learned little except how to run errands was of no concern to Reese, who had already purchased a new word processor for his office with the receipts from having them.
Robyn had made several passes by Sheila Pierce's open door before she stopped and knocked.
"Yes, Robyn, what can I do for you?"
"Miss. Pierce, I'm sorry for botherin' you. Really I am."
"It's fine, Robyn. I was beginning to wonder what you were up to walking back and forth out there."
"Well, ma'am, it's this blood. Doctor Bennett, you know, the lady doctor?"
"Yes, I know. What about her?"
"Well, Dr. Bennett gave me this here blood to take to ..." she consulted a scrap of paper, "Special Chemistries, only I can't find where that is. I'm sorry to bother you while you're working and all."
"Nonsense, child. Here, let me see what you've got."
Casually, Sheila glanced at the pale blue requisition form. The patient's name, John Schultz, meant nothing to her. That in itself was unusual. She made it her business to know the names of all those being autopsied in her department. However, she acknowledged, occasionally one was scheduled without her being notified. In the space marked
"Patient's Hospital Number" the department's billing number was written. The request was for a screen for drugs of abuse. Penned along the margin of the requisition was the order, "STAT: Phone results to Dr. K. Bennett ASAP."
"Curiouser and curiouser,"
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