experience.' She took a sip of tea. For a moment she was lost in her own sorrowful reverie, staring out the bay window at the overgrown garden. Then, just as abruptly, she snapped out of her momentary trance. She looked at Jeffrey, without her smile. 'I'm convinced it was through low self-esteem that Chris committed suicide. He couldn't have done what he did if he felt better about himself. I just know it. It wasn't the fact of the tragedy that pushed him over the edge. It certainly wasn't guilt. Chris was like you, in that he had nothing to feel guilty about. It was the sudden erosion of confidence, the damage done to how he thought about himself, that made Chris take his life. People have no idea how sensitive even the most accomplished doctors are to the impact of being sued. In fact, the better the doctor the more it hurts. The fact that the suit is baseless has nothing to do with it.'
'You're so right,' Jeffrey said. 'Back when I heard that Chris had killed himself, I was astounded. I knew what kind of man he was, what kind of doctor he was. Now his suicide doesn't astound me at all. In fact, from where I sit now, I'm surprised more doctors sued for malpractice aren't drawn to it. In fact, I tried it last night.'
'Tried what?' Kelly asked sharply. She knew what Jeffrey meant but she didn't want to believe it.
Jeffrey sighed. He couldn't look at her. 'Last night I tried to commit suicide,' he said simply. 'I came within an inch of doing the same thing that Chris did. You know, the succiny1choline and morphine trick. I had the
IV running and everything.'
Kelly dropped her cup of tea. She lunged forward and, grabbing Jeffrey by his shoulders, she shook him. The Miove startled him. She caught him completely unaware.
'Don't you dare do such a thing. Don't even think about it!'
Kelly was glaring at him, still clutching his shoulders. Finally Jeffrey mumbled that she needn't worry, since he'd lacked the courage to go through with it.
Kelly shook him again, reacting to his comments.
Jeffrey didn't know what to do, much less say.
Kelly kept shaking him, her passions inflamed. 'Suicide is not courageous,' she said angrily. 'It is the opposite. It's the cowardly thing to do. And it's selfish. It hurts everyone you leave behind, everyone who loves you.
I want you to promise me that if you ever have thoughts of suicide again, you'll call me immediately, no matter what time of day or night. Think of your wife. Chris's suicide filled me with such guilt, you have no idea. I was crushed. I felt that somehow I had failed him. I know that's not true now, but his death is something I'll probably never get over completely.'
'Carol and I are getting a divorce,' Jeffrey blurted.
Kelly's expression softened. 'Because of the malpractice suit?'
Jeffrey shook his head. 'We'd planned it before all this started. Carol was just nice enough to put it off for the time being.,,
'You poor man,' Kelly said. 'I can't imagine trying to deal with being sued for malpractice and a breakup of a marriage at the same time.'
'My marital problems are the least of my worries,' Jeffrey said.
'I'm serious about your promising me you'll call before you do anything foolish,' Kelly said.
'I'm not thinking...'
'Promise!' Kelly insisted.
'All right, I promise,' Jeffrey said.
Satisfied, Kelly got up and cleaned up the mess that she'd made when she'd dropped her teacup. As she picked up the pieces of broken china, she said:
'I wish more than anything that I'd had the slightest indication of what
Chris had been plan-
ning. One minute it seemed that he'd been full of fight, talking about the anesthetic complication being secondary to a contaminant in the local, the next minute he was dead.'
Jeffrey watched Kelly as she threw the shards of china away. It took a few moments for her last words to sink in. When she returned and took her seat again, Jeffrey asked, 'What made Chris think of a contaminant in the local anesthetic?'
Kelly shrugged. 'I haven't the faintest idea. But he seemed to be genuinely excited about the possibility. I encouraged him. Just before that he'd been depressed. Very depressed. The idea of a contaminant gave him a real boost.
He spent several days poring over pharmacology and physiology textbooks. He made lots of notes. He was working on it the night he... I'd gone to bed.
I found him the next morning with an IV in place, the bottle empty.'
'How awful,' Jeffrey said.
'It was the worst experience of my life,' Kelly admitted.
For an instant, Jeffrey envied Chris, not because he'd succeeded where
Jeffrey had failed, but because he'd left behind someone who obviously loved him so deeply. If Jeffrey had followed through, would anyone be that sorry about it? Jeffrey tried to shake the thought. Instead, he considered the notion of a contaminant in the local anesthetic. It was a curious thought.
'What kind of contaminant was Chris thinking about?' Jeffrey asked.
'I really don't know,' Kelly answered. 'It was two years ago, and Chris never did go into much detail about if. At least not with me.'
'Did you mention his theory to anybody at the time?'
'I told the lawyers. Why?'
'It's an intriguing idea,' Jeffrey said.
'I still have Chris's notes,' Kelly said. 'You're welcome to see them if you'd like.'
'I would,' Jeffrey said.
Kelly stood up and led Jeffrey back through the kitchen and dining room, across the foyer and through the living room. She stopped at a closed door.
'I think I'd better explain,' she said. 'This was Chris's study. I know it probably wasn't all that healthy, but after Chris's death I just closed the door to this room and left everything the way it was. Don't ask me why. At the time it made me feel better, as if some part of him was still here. So be prepared. It might
be a little on the dusty side.' She opened the door and stepped aside.
Jeffrey walked into the study. In contrast to the rest of the house, it was disheveled and musty. A thick layer of dust coated everything. There were even a few cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. The blinds were closed tight.
On one wall was a floorto-ceiling bookcase filled with volumes that Jeffrey recognized immediately. Most of them were standard texts for anesthesia.
The others dealt with more general medical topics.
In the center of the room stood an old partners' desk, heaped with papers and books. In the comer of the room was an Eames chair upholstered in black leather that had dried and cracked. Next to the chair was a tall stack of books.
Kelly was leaning against the doodamb with her arms folded as if she was reluctant to enter. 'Quite a mess,' she said.
'You don't mind if I look around?' Jeffrey asked. He felt a certain kinship with his dead colleague but did not want to trespass on Kelly's feelings.
'Be my guest,' she said. 'As I told you, I've finally come to terms with
Chris's passing. I've been meaning to clean this room for some time. I just haven't gotten around to it.'
Jeffrey circled the desk. There was a lamp on it, which he turned on. He wasn't superstitious; he did not believe in the supernatural. Yet somehow he felt Chris was trying to tell him something.
Open on the desk's blotter was a familiar textbook: Goodman and Gillman's
Pharmacological Basis of Therapeutics. Next to it was Clinical Toxicology.
Beside both books was a pile of handwritten notes. Bending over the desk,
Jeffrey noted that the Goodman and Gillman was open to the section on
Marcaine. The potential adverse side effects were heavily underlined.
'Did Chris's case involve Marcaine as well?' Jeffrey asked.
