less a part of medicine than this one. 'That's it, Stacy, ' he cooed as he tightened down the last of the screws. 'That's it. You're doing perfect. We're all doing perfect.'
With the elective surgery schedule now an hour behind, O. R. 2 was emptied out as soon as the last screw was in place and the proper position of the halo was verified. Zack accompanied Stacy Mills to the east-wing room where, for a few days, she would be observed for signs of spinal cord swelling or compression. 'Well, you just take it easy, Stacy, ' he said. 'I'm going to go talk to your folks, and then I'll send them up. I'll be back to see you at the end of the day. Wearing this device won't be the most fun you've ever had, but like I said, it won't be forever.'
'Dr. Zack, ' the girl called out as he was leaving, 'in the operating room I said that I wasn't scared. Well, now that it's all over, I can tell you that I really was. I just didn't want to sound like a baby.'
Zack returned to the bedside and smiled down at her. 'In that case, ' he said, 'I've got something to tell you- something I've never told any patient before.' He bent over her bed and whispered, 'I'm always a little frightened and a little nervous when I operate.'
'You are? Really?'
'The truth. I think it helps my concentration never to forget that it's always possible that something could go wrong. There, I said it, and..
hey, Dr. Mills, I feel better already!'
'You're very silly, do you know that?'
'I hope so, ' he said. As he was leaving the girl's room, Zack spotted Maureen Banas approaching down the corridor. She was in her late forties or early fifties, he guessed, with short, graying hair that looked as if it had been cut by an amateur. Although she carried herself with authority, the tension etched into her face and the lack of attention to ten or fifteen excess pounds hinted at a life that had, perhaps, not been an easy one. 'Congratulations, Dr. Iverson, and thanks, ' she said with an almost clinical lack of emotion. 'Stacy is a very special child to a lot of people. We all owe you a great deal for what you did.'
In that case, he wanted to say, tell me about the nail you helped hammer into Guy Beaulieu's coffin. 'Listen, ' he replied instead, 'just-seeing her moving those arms and legs and piggies of hers is enough to get me through six months of the usual neurosurgical nightmares. Besides, it's Wilton Marshfield you should be thanking. I was just the technician.'
'Nonsense. I know he missed those fractures. Sticking up for him was a very kind thing for you to do, especially with the altercation you two had last week. Wilton's really a sweet old guy most of the time. But he misses too much.'
He misses too much. The opening, however slight, was there. Zack glanced past the nurse. The corridor was quiet. There might have been a more appropriate time and place, but one day after Guy's funeral, and only hours after reading his diary, thoughts of the man were too close to the surface for Zack to walk away from this opportunity. 'Sort of like Guy Beaulieu in that respect, ' he said. 'Yes?'
Maureen Banas looked at him queerly. 'I beg your pardon?'
'I was asking about your impressions of Guy Beaulieu. I was with him when he died, you know.'
'Of course I know.' Her strange expression had not faded. 'I thought a lot of Dr. Beaulieu. To die the way he did was… was very tragic.'
She averted her gaze and peered around the corner into Stacy's room.
'Well, ' she said, 'I guess I'd better check on my niece and get back to the emergency ward. Thank you again, Doctor.'
'Mrs. Banas, wait, please, ' Zack said. The woman stopped, her back still to him, her posture rigid. 'Please? ' he said again. Slowly, she turned to face him. Her arms were folded grimly across her chest. 'Yes?'
'Mrs. Banas, I… I read the letter you wrote about Guy.'
What little color there was drained from the nurse's face. 'Your brother had no right to go passing that around,' she said. The woman looked about restlessly. 'Dr. Iverson, I think I'd better go.'
'Mrs. Banas, just a minute ago you said that you owed me a great deal for what I did for Stacy. Well, I don't usually call in markers like this, but I need to know about Guy-what he's been like these past two years, what he did that prompted you to write those charges. Please.
It's terribly important to me… and to his family.'
Maureen Banas's reaction was far from the anger or defensiveness Zack would have anticipated. She began to tremble, and quickly grew close to tears. 'I… please, I don't want to talk about it. Your brother said he would speak with me before showing that note to anyone. He had no right to give it to you.'
'Look, ' Zack said. 'I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of things-to the truth.'
It took several breaths before the nurse began to regain her composure.
'Dr. Iverson, I've got three children, one of them retarded, and an ex-husband who hasn't sent a dime of support in ten years. I'm sorry I wrote that letter, but… but I had to. I had to. Now, you've got to leave it alone. For my sake. For my family. Leave it alone. I beg you.'
'I can't, Mrs. Banas… Maureen, I don't want to cause trouble for you or for anyone, but I've got to know if that letter contained the truth about Guy… Please.' The woman said nothing. 'What is it? ' he asked.
'Did someone pressure you to write it? Threaten to take your job away?'
The nurse bit her lower lip. Her eyes had filled with tears. She glanced nervously about. Two nurses were approaching down the hall. 'Come with me, ' she said softly. There was a small sitting area at the end of the corridor-a colonial-style maple settee and two matching chairs arranged beneath a huge picture window that faced southwest, toward the mountains. Maureen Banas took one of the chairs and motioned Zack to the edge of the settee closest to her. 'Dr. Iverson, I meant what I said about my family, ' she began in a hoarse whisper. 'If you speak of this conversation to anyone and I lose MY job, you will have hurt a number of people who do not deserve to be hurt.'
'You have my word.'
'I… I'm terrified about doing this.'
'Please…'
'At the beginning of the summer, I qu'tteled with Dr. Beaulieu in the E.
R. We never got along all that well to begin with, but I think we more or less respected one another. It doesn't make any difference what we fought about. The whole incident was actually pretty mitd. But there were a number of witnesses. 'A week or so later, there was an envelope stuck under my door at home. In it were ten one- hundred-dollar bills, a copy of the note you saw, and instructions that when I copied the note over in my own hand and sent it to Mr. Iverson, I would receive a second, equal payment.'
'No hint of who the note was from?'
Once again, the nurse seemed close to breaking down. 'None. 'Well, did the note say what would happen if you refused?'
'It said that trouble would start happening in my life, and that I could count on being fired. Dr. Iverson, I know what I did was awful, but… but I had been doing so poorly with the kids, and the damn bills just keep coming in, and-'
'Please, Maureen. You don't have to explain, ' Zack said. 'I understand that you did what you had to do. Do you still have the note?'
The nurse shook her head. 'I. I was afraid to keep it.'
'Any sense at all as to who sent it? Do you think it was my brother?'
Zack felt sick at the thought. 'I… I don't believe so,' she said.
'Why do you say that?'
'Well, whoever wrote me added at the end that if Frank Iverson learned my note wasn't really my idea, he would be tired just as quickly as I would be…'
She began to cry. 'You see why you can't say anything to anyone about this?'
'Yes, Maureen. I see. Telling me what you did was a very brave thing to do. I promise you that I'll honor your confidence,'
'Th-Thank you.'
She dabbed at her eyes with her uniform sleeve and then hurried back down the corridor. Feeling more sadness toward the woman than anger, Zack propped his foot on one of the chairs and gazed across at the Presidential Range. Hikine,… climbing… camping… unique challenges in the office and in the O. R… The projected
