Adam’s opinion of Dr. Clark Vandermer rose a little. He might be unpleasantly brusque, but at least he was up-to-date in his medical reading.
“As long as you are here,” said Dr. Vandermer, “you can save me a phone call. I’m scheduled to lecture next week on the Arolen Conference Cruise. What’s the latest I can board the ship in Miami?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea,” admitted Adam.
“Wonderful,” said Dr. Vandermer, reassuming his sarcastic tone. “Now would you come with me.”
Grabbing his briefcase, Adam followed the man out of the examination room and down the narrow corridor. After about twenty steps Vandermer stopped, opened a door, and stepped aside to allow Adam to pass. As he did, Vandermer unceremoniously thrust the Arolen business card into Adam’s hand, then closed the door behind him. Blinking, Adam found himself back in the crowded waiting room.
“Did you see the doctor?” asked Christine.
“I did indeed,” said Adam, wondering why in hell they hadn’t discussed the Arolen cruises during the sales course. If he had known the answer to Vandermer’s question, he might have been able to make his pitch.
“I told you I could get you in,” said Christine proudly.
Adam was about to ask if he could see either of the other doctors in the group, when he noticed the nameplates on the wall behind the receptionist. In addition to Vandermer, Baumgarten, and Stens, Dr. Lawrence Foley and Dr. Stuart Smyth were also listed. Adam didn’t remember seeing a Dr. Smyth in Vandermer’s file.
Reaching into his pocket, Adam pulled out the Cross pen. “Got a little surprise for you,” he said, handing it to Christine. Brushing off her thanks, he pointed to Dr. Smyth’s name. “Is he a new associate?”
“Oh, no,” said Christine. “Dr. Smyth has been an associate for fifteen years. Unfortunately, he’s very sick. But I never did see too much of him. He scheduled most of his patients at the Julian Clinic.”
Adam looked back at the nameplates. “Is this the Dr. Foley who committed suicide?”
“Yes. What a tragedy,” said Christine. “He was my favorite doctor. But we didn’t see too much of him either during the last six months. He also began scheduling his patients at the clinic.”
Christine’s comment jogged Adam’s memory. Percy Harmon had been upset that so many doctors, including Foley, were abandoning their practices to go to the Julian Clinic.
“Were you here when Dr. Foley left?” asked Adam.
“Unfortunately,” admitted Christine. “It was a nightmare because all of his patients had to be called and rescheduled.”
“Had he been on a trip before he moved?” asked Adam.
“I think so,” said Christine. “If I remember correctly he’d been to some kind of medical meeting. I think it was a cruise.”
“What about Dr. Baumgarten and Dr. Stens?” asked Adam. “Are they here today?”
“Sorry,” said Christine. “They’re both in surgery.”
“I don’t understand,” Adam said two hours later, waving his chopsticks at Jennifer. “How come you were too sick to drive out to Arolen this morning, but well enough to go shopping with your mother all afternoon?”
Jennifer lowered her eyes, pushing her stir-fried vegetables around on her plate. Earlier she had tried to explain to Adam why it was important for her to talk with her mother. But Adam had shrugged off her explanation, and now, rather than say anything nasty, she decided to say nothing at all.
Adam drummed his fingers on the Formica tabletop. Ever since Jennifer had learned she was pregnant, they seemed unable to talk rationally about anything. Adam was afraid that if he criticized her further, she would start to cry.
“Look,” he said, “forget about today. Let’s just enjoy dinner. You look beautiful. Is that a new dress?”
She nodded, and he guessed it was a present from her mother.
“It’s sure pretty,” he said diplomatically, but Jennifer was not to be soothed.
“The dress may be OK, but I look awful. I thought being pregnant would make me glow with femininity, but I just feel fat and unattractive.” When Adam didn’t answer, she added, “I think a lot of it has to do with this awful nausea. I don’t know why they call it morning sickness when it seems to last all day.”
Adam reached across the table and squeezed her hand. Hoping to cheer her up, he began telling her about his disastrous visit to Dr. Vandermer. While he talked, her face began to relax.
“I told you he had a dreadful bedside manner,” laughed Jennifer. “Did he say anything useful about the nausea.”
“No, just that it would go away and you were doing fine.”
Jennifer sighed. As they walked back from the restaurant, she said little and as soon as they got home she got into bed and turned on Dynasty.
Depressed by his first day as a rep and upset by his wife’s silence, Adam restlessly turned on his computer. Idly he called up GYN Associates, thinking he would add Dr. Smyth’s name. To his surprise, it was already there. Wondering if he had made a mistake that afternoon, he went back to the printout on Vandermer. Smyth’s name was not listed. To cross-check, Adam called up the other associates, Stens and Baumgarten. Neither Smyth nor Foley appeared in their files.
Adam bit his lower lip. There had to be checks in the program that would catch such an omission. Or maybe the programmers forgot to put in a cross-check. If that were the case, Adam felt he should probably tell Arolen.
Wondering which associates appeared in Smyth’s file, Adam punched the doctor’s name. The monitor blinked, then displayed a curt message: “OB-GYN Cruise course 9/9/83. Refresher course scheduled 6/5/84 with planned visit to Puerto Rico Research Center.” Adam rubbed the corners of his mouth. The computer obviously knew about Smyth but apparently had no file on him. Adam couldn’t understand it.
He opened his list of customers and ran his finger down the list. Smyth wasn’t mentioned. Adam decided that Arolen serviced Smyth at the Julian Clinic, even though he was technically a member of GYN Associates. Still, it all seemed very peculiar.
Puzzled, Adam decided to retrieve Lawrence Foley’s file. The machine printed out a single word: “Terminated.”
Pretty sick humor on the part of some programmer, thought Adam.
Over the next three weeks Adam’s proficiency as a salesman improved significantly. As long as he loaded the doctors on his list with samples, most of them were pleased to hear him extol the virtues of Arolen Pharmaceuticals. They rarely questioned his claims or inquired about possible side effects. Adam cheerfully pushed Arolen’s full line of drugs with one exception: pregdolen. The journal article and Vandermer’s warning had impressed him, and he did not want to be responsible for encouraging the use of such a potentially dangerous drug.
In the evenings he would look up on the computer the doctors he planned to see next, but just for information to help sales. He decided not to worry about any possible omissions or inaccuracies like the one involving GYN Associates.
Then, just when he was relaxing into his new routine, something happened that aroused his misgivings. He had an appointment to see a group of busy internists, but when he reached the office, the receptionist told him they all had to cancel. One of the partners had just returned from an Arolen cruise and announced he was quitting the practice and going to work at the Julian Clinic. The other doctors were furious and at their wits’ end trying to accommodate his patients.
Adam walked away remembering how Percy Harmon had described a similar incident. And that reminded him that he had never learned why Percy had failed to call him. When he’d asked in New Jersey, no one had seemed sure where Harmon was, though he apparently had not gone as planned to Puerto Rico. Knowing how excited Percy had been about the management program, Adam found this extremely disturbing.