The Society

“When ENH stock comes out,” Halliday had told Janet with a wink, “I recommend you have those in your family buy a share or two.”

Now he fidgeted for another minute, until he sensed the increasing restlessness of those in the room, then he cleared his throat and stepped to the table. Over more than a decade together, he and Marshall Gold had functioned as a unit, with virtually no philosophical or professional differences. Marshall’s missing a meeting as monumental as this one would be a first.

You’d better have a damn good reason.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry for the slight delay. I was waiting for Marshall Gold, my executive assistant, whom I believe most of you know. He’s tying up some loose ends relative to this meeting, and I’m sure he’ll be here shortly.” He took a deep, proud breath. “And so, without further ado, it’s time for us to make history. By the time we adjourn this meeting, each of us will be an important part of one of the largest, most influential health-care delivery companies in the nation, indeed, in the world-Excelsius National Health. The two-thousand-dollar custom- made diamond and gold Diablo de Cartier fountain pen on top of each stack of documents will be your souvenir of this day, but another pleasant and constant reminder of it will also be your bank accounts.”

The laughter from around the room was generous.

“Now, then, if you will each take your pen and refer to item one, we-”

The elegant double doors at the far end of the conference room swung open.

Welcome, Marshall, Halliday almost exclaimed. Instead, he watched in stunned silence as Will Grant and Patty Moriarity stepped shoulder-to-shoulder into the room. They were showered and dressed in clean, casual clothes, but nothing could hide the fearsome bruising covering their faces. Will’s left eye was completely swollen shut, and his hands were bandaged. Patty’s eyes were enveloped in violet, with gentian streaks running down her cheeks and over her jaw. Both were limping.

Moments after they entered the room, a third person followed-a tall, distinguished man, marching ramrod straight, wearing the uniform of a colonel in the state police. Tommy Moriarity remained there, unmoving, as Patty and Will split apart and slowly rounded the massive table, giving each of the people seated there a slow close-up of the battering they had taken. When they reached Halliday, Patty handed him a folded piece of paper. . then another.

“Boyd Halliday,” she said, “this is a warrant for your arrest.”

“On what charges?”

“The DA is just getting started on those, but the one you have in your hand is for fraud and accessory to murder. I can promise you that there will be others. The fraud part is outlined in that letter from a certain radiologist at the Excelsius Cancer Center.”

“Would you like us to add copies of these documents to those already in front of your business associates?” Will asked.

Boyd Halliday raised himself up and stared stonily out the window.

“That won’t be necessary. Ed, will you come here, please, and make certain these people don’t violate any of my rights.”

No one around the table moved as Ed Wittenburg held whispered conversations first with Patty, then Halliday. Finally, he stepped aside as Patty handcuffed Halliday’s wrists behind him and led him from the room, joined at the doorway by her father.

Will, bracing himself on the back of a chair, turned and faced the others.

“I hope most if not all of you are completely in the dark about what is happening here,” he said. “In time, much will become clear to you. For now, all I can say is: The stakes in the struggle between organized medicine and managed care have just gone up considerably. None of us should be taking care of the health problems of others until our patients’ or clients’ concerns come before our own. I challenge each of you to go back to your companies and figure out just how to put those words into practice. Oh, and meanwhile, feel free to keep your souvenir pens.”

EPILOGUE

Chicago

Ten months later

Winter sun glistened off the surface of Lake Michigan and the new, powdery snow that blanketed much of the city. Physicians, more than 25,000 of them, streamed across neatly shoveled walks and into McCormack Place South on the vast convention campus. The healers, including several thousand chiropractors and hundreds of optometrists and podiatrists, represented every specialty and medical organization, as well as every state. Organized by the Hippocrates Society, the gathering was unprecedented in its spirit of cooperation and its mission, which was to carve out the framework of a single-pay, national health-insurance plan and to back up its demand for implementation by Congress with the threat of a slowdown or even a general strike.

“It’s going to happen,” Will said. “Can you believe it, it’s gonna happen.”

“Thanks to you.”

Patty tightened her grip on his arm and led him over to a spot where they could look out across the lake.

The magnitude and cruelty of Excelsius Health’s perfidy had galvanized physicians in ways that had previously been unimaginable. Almost overnight, chapters of the Hippocrates Society sprang up in cities across the country, and membership swelled. The AMA threw the force of its 260,000 members behind the search for a solution to the crisis. A widely publicized and completely televised congressional hearing uncovered unacceptable business practices on the part of a number of health-care provider companies. Patients and physicians at the hearing were joined on the witness stand by employees of a number of those companies, suddenly anxious to share shortcuts they had encountered that adversely affected patient health. Subsequent to that, a significant number of congressional seats had gone to candidates advocating immediate action on revamping the health-care delivery system toward federal control.

Meanwhile, desperate corporations were quickly restructured. CEOs were replaced. Other officials simply took off, some of them absconding with tens of millions in ill-gotten profits. Sentiment against continuing the status quo in health care grew like a tidal wave. The uninsured middle class became martyrs to the cause of change.

The Society national steering committee, charged with organizing the Chicago conference, had originally planned for ten to fifteen thousand attendees. Twenty-five thousand was beyond anyone’s wildest imagination, but adjustments had been made.

“I really love Chicago,” Patty said dreamily.

“And I really love. . Chicago, too.”

“You know, I hope the day you realize you’re not very funny isn’t too hard on you.”

“Okay, that’s it. I’ve taken enough verbal abuse. If you don’t think I’m funny, then the wedding’s off.”

“You can call it off if you want, but you’re going to have to tell my father.”

“On second thought, I think I’ll opt for the verbal abuse.”

“Wise move.” Patty guided him back toward the convention center. “I just wish your old partner, Susan, could be here with us. She worked so damn hard in the interests of better health for all.”

“Especially for folks like Charles Newcomber.”

“Ah, yes. And let’s not forget all those women from Steadfast Health whom she helped to experience the joys of learning they had cancer and undergoing surgery and chemo. God, but I wish that bullet I fired at her had actually gone where I was aiming.”

She pointed to the center of her chest.

“What goes around, comes around,” Will said. “It ain’t over.”

“I hope not, baby, but take it from a cop, bad guys do get away.”

And Susan Hollister had most certainly vanished.

Even with lawyer Ed Wittenburg’s help, it had taken the state-police chopper most of the day to locate the farm. When they finally did, Susan was gone. There were bullets and bullet holes everywhere, but the bodies of the