to notify admissions that he would pay whatever was necessary to keep the other bed in room 515 empty. What in the hell could have happened?
He threw the flowers onto one of the beds and raced to the nurses' station. Janine Curtis, the nurse to whom he had spoken earlier, appeared prepared for a confrontation.
'Miss Curtis,' he demanded, 'what's become of my daughter?'
She held his gaze evenly.
'Nothing's become of her, sir,' she said with exaggerated patience. 'She's doing fine. She's been moved to another room.'
'But we agreed this morning she would stay where she was, and that no one would be moved in.'
'I know what you requested, sir. But Lisa asked to be moved to another room, and we obliged her.'
'Well then, where is she now?' he snapped.
'I'm afraid I can't tell you that, sir,' the nurse said.
'Miss Curtis, I'm not in the mood for games.'
'It's Mrs. Curtis, and this is no game. Your daughter told us quite emphatically that she does not wish to see you.'
'What?'
'She said that if you want to speak with her, you might try coming back tomorrow morning. She'll see how she feels then.'
'Dammit, she told me just a few hours ago to come back at three this afternoon. Now where is she?'
'Mr. Grayson, please keep your voice down. Our patient has given us a clear and specific order, and we fully intend to honor it. I would suggest you do as she asks and return tomorrow.'
'And I would suggest you be very careful whom you talk to like that.'
'Mr. Grayson, you made it perfectly clear who you were this morning. In all honesty, it makes no difference to me. Lisa is an adult with control over the decisions involving her life. She is also my patient. She's been through a great deal, and I intend to do whatever I can to honor any wishes she might have.'
She smiled at him coolly and then returned to her work.
Glowering at her, Grayson gave brief thought to searching every room on the floor. Then he stormed off.
The initial meeting between Andrew Truscott and attorney Jeremy Mallon, some two and a half years before, had actually taken place at a Red Sox-Yankees game. Before Glenn Paris canceled the Everwell HMO's contract with MCB, the organization had used the hospital for a modest percentage of its inpatient cases. Each year, as a 'thank you' to the residents, the HMO would rent a bus, load it with beer, and take the entire house staff to a clambake and then to Fenway Park.
Having heard rumors of Andrew Truscott's profound disenchantment with MCB, Mallon had carefully arranged the seating so that he was next to Truscott. By the end of the third inning, they had evolved makeshift code words for the hospital and key personnel, and had established their mutual distaste for Glenn Paris and his offbeat antics. By the bottom of the fifth, Truscott had made it clear that he was not unwilling to provide inside information on hospital goings-on in exchange for certain considerations. And by the seventh-inning stretch, they had exchanged numbers and agreed to meet again in the near future.
Now, some $30,000 later, Andrew scribbled a fictitious name in the log book of the office building at One Hundred Federal Plaza and rode the elevator to the twenty-ninth-floor law offices of Wasserman and Mallon. His relationship with the attorney was a shaky one. Andrew neither trusted nor liked the man, and although Mallon was too slick to get a decent handle on, Andrew suspected those feelings were reciprocated. However, there was no denying that each had profited from the other. And with the information he had tucked in his briefcase tonight, their collaboration seemed destined to continue.
The brass plaques on the mahogany doors to the firm's suite listed four partners and about twenty associates. Jeremy Mallon was the only one with an M.D. in addition to his law degree. The spacious interior, with its glass-enclosed library and multiple secretary's desks, had an array of original oils on the walls that included a Sargent, an O'Keeffe, and a small Wyeth. Truscott wondered in passing how many physicians' malpractice victories and settlements it had taken to develop such a collection.
As soon as he entered the reception area, Andrew caught the aroma of Chinese food. And after brief stops before the Sargent and a striking piece by the contemporary realist Scott Pryor, he followed the scent down the hall to Mallon's office. Although the number of white cartons spread across the teak table suggested a small banquet, only Mallon was there.
'Come in, Andy. Come in.' Mallon motioned Andrew to a seat with his chopsticks. 'I didn't know what you liked, so I ordered a little of everything.'
Andrew winced at the use of his nickname, which he had never liked. Andy. Despite the hefty payments, he felt wary around Mallon, a gladhander who always seemed to have a hidden agenda. If it served his purposes, Andrew suspected, the attorney would devour him with the same dispassionate enthusiasm he exhibited toward the Peking duck.
'There's beer, wine, or whatever else you want in the fridge beneath the wet bar,' Mallon said. 'Forgive me if I seem to be rushing, but Axel's holding up writing his column until he hears from me, and there's a reception at my club that my wife has made mandatory.'
'No problem.'
My club. Although Andrew was uncomfortable with the man personally, he did admire his power and style. More than once in their dealings, thoughts of what a law career would be like crossed his mind. Somewhere down the road, a brass plaque might read Wasserman, Truscott, and Mallon.
'Did you watch the news tonight?' Mallon asked.
'No, I just got out of work.'
'Goddamn Paris made it onto all three stations. I'm really sick of seeing that Bozo's face on TV.'
'What goes around comes around,' Andrew said, tapping his briefcase.
'Well, I hope whatever it is you have is good, because we are running out of time.'
'What do you mean?'
'Just that. Competition in the managed health care business is getting more intense every day. It's already big fish eats little fish. No one is safe, and everyone is justifiably paranoid. Right now, Everwell's in a pretty decent position. But they're so strapped for beds and office space that they've decided they can't wait much longer for MCB to go up on the block. They're looking at other options, the best of which will cost millions more than it would to make a fire-sale buy of MCB. Millions. And ultimately, anything else they acquire will deliver much less in terms of space and equipment. We need that hospital.'
'I've heard rumors of massive layoffs pending at MCB. Doesn't that suggest the financial problems are getting worse?'
'There's a big difference between rumors and done deeds, Andy. People may be talking about layoffs, but my sources say that MCB has actually begun some hiring. And there's more. For several years now I've had a pipeline into some of the really big creditors of the hospital, including the bank that holds one of its mortgages. They tell me that recently Paris and his financial advisor, Colin Smith, have stopped scrambling for money. They've even started paying off some bills. I think it's got to be that foundation Paris talked about in the speech you recorded.'
'That was the first time I ever heard him mention it,' Truscott said.
'And you're sure he never gave the name?'
'You heard the tape.'
'I want that name, Andy, and quickly. If we know what we're up against, chances are we can come up with some sort of countermeasure. If Paris and Smith manage to get that place out of the hole, we'll probably never get another shot at it. Remember how much I said is at stake for us.'
'Assuming I get you the name,' Andrew heard himself say, 'I expect a small portion of those millions will find its way in my direction.'
Mallon's eyes flashed.
'Do yourself a favor, Andy,' he said with chilling calm, 'and don't try and put the screws to me. Okay? Just come up with that name. Let me choose the reward. We both know you have no future at Crunchy Granola General. Zip. And need I remind you that except for a few hospitals way out in the boonies, the market is already glutted with general surgeons? It's a safe bet that those few who are getting hired for decent jobs were chief residents in
