'He always was the decent record sort.'
'The product's been on the market for almost eight months now. That means the first cases of infected women going into labor could happen any time.'
'I can give you the list of people Peter tested the stuff on at the time he gave it to me.'
'Great. That will leave only the rest of Singh's group from the clinic here-the original set of guinea pigs. With Singh dead, we have to rely on finding Blankenship's records of his work. I think he must have a list-that's how he knew right away that the first women who got the powder were starting to get into trouble. If we can't find his records, we'll have to rely on publicity to bring them in.'
'And all for money.'
'All for money,' Sarah echoed sadly. 'Plus whatever thrill Blankenship got from using his intellect to maneuver and control people.'
'Speaking of which-'
Sarah knew what was coming next.
'What's the situation?' she asked.
'Peter's still in jail. His lawyer called a little while ago. There's some sort of hearing scheduled later today. He says that if you came and spoke to the judge, Peter would probably at least be able to post bail and get out. If you don't tell them that Blankenship admitted killing that man on the boat, Peter might have to stay.'
'A thought that is not entirely unappealing.'
The two women exchanged conspiratorial smiles.
'He's the grandfather of your godchild, remember.'
'I know, I know. I just wonder how much of a dent this whole thing has made on his cast-iron ego. Blankenship played him like a violin.'
'And Peter went right along with it, no questions asked.'
'All for money,' Sarah said.
'Xanadu was in trouble. I think it was as much pride and ego as profit.'
'Well, I'm going to insist that whatever money we can retrieve from this whole mess be used to find some sort of definitive cure. And that includes whatever Peter has.'
'I agree.'
'The six-foot four-inch violin. Boy, I'll bet he really loved the publicity of those damned infomercials.'
'He did that,' Annalee said, lifting Sarah E. West and gently bringing the infant over to her other breast.
'Maybe another week or so in jail might-okay, okay. I'll give his lawyer a call and see what I can do.'
'Thanks, Doc.'
Sarah stood to go.
'Annalee, do me one favor, though,' she said.
'Anything.'
Sarah bent down and kissed first mother, then daughter. 'Don't ever let him forget it.'
TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT
by Axel Devlin
July 3
Yesterday I had an appointment with my acupuncturist. Her name is Dr. Sarah Baldwin-Daniels. When my back goes out, which it tends to do when I engage in any activity more strenuous than clicking my channel changer, my acupuncturist tells me to relax, sticks a few of her special stainless steel needles in me, and takes the pain away.
Helping folks like me with her acupuncture is sort of a hobby for Dr. B-D. Her real job is being a surgeon. In fact, as of two days ago, she is the new chief resident in Obstetrics and Gynecology at the Medical Center of Boston. For those of you new to my column, i.e., those who have been living on Mars for the last ten years, let me say that for much of the past year, I was not a supporter of my acupuncturist or her hospital. I thought she was a quack.
She is not a quack. She sticks her special needles in me and my back feels better. And as far as this layman goes, that's all I care to know. Make me feel better without some horrible side effect that's worse than my illness was, and you are okay in my book.
So I was wrong. This is my column, and I get to use it any way I want. And today, a year after Dr. B-D and the diet powder nightmare first lit up my word processor screen, I'm using it to say I was wrong.
Because of you, Doc, performing cesarean sections before active labor has saved countless lives. And now we hear there's a blood test and treatment coming for the dreaded weight loss virus. God willing, maybe soon all those cesareans won't be necessary.
So yesterday I saw my acupuncturist. I went to her six months ago to do an interview and to get the full story on the Herbal Weight Loss horror. And I happened, just happened, to mention my lousy back. That was when Dr. Baldwin-Daniels stepped forward.
'I might be able to help you,' she said. 'I might be able to do something for the pain.'
So yesterday afternoon, just hours after my former enemy stuck a few of her special needles in me, I broke 90 at my club for the first time.
Quack!
