“I’m terribly sorry,” said Jennifer. “I’m all right now. Why will I be seeing you at the Julian Clinic?”
“Because I’ve decided to join their staff,” said Dr. Vandermer, checking her pulse. “I’m no longer interested in private practice. And I can assure you that as a patient you will get better care at the Julian Clinic. Now, do you feel all right?”
Jennifer nodded.
“Is this the first time in your pregnancy you’ve felt faint like this?”
“Yes,” said Jennifer and went on to describe Cheryl’s unexpected death.
“What an awful experience for you,” Dr. Vandermer said. “Especially being pregnant. Fortunately, such a clotting disorder is extremely rare, and I hope you don’t blame the Julian Clinic. I heard about that case and I happen to know that Miss Tedesco had withheld certain aspects of her medical history. Her extensive drug usage had caused hematologic problems that did not show up in routine lab work. Had Miss Tedesco been more forthright, she’d undoubtedly be alive today. I’m only telling you this so you won’t have any doubts about the clinic.”
“I’d heard good things about it before I went with Cheryl. And I must admit I was impressed with the staff’s caring attitude.”
“That’s one of the reasons I’m going there. The doctors aren’t involved with any of the competitive nonsense associate with private practice.”
Jennifer sat up, relieved to find that the dizziness had completely passed.
“Are you going to be all right now?” asked Dr. Vandermer.
“I think so,” said Jennifer.
“The second thing I wanted to discuss with you is the possibility of doing amniocentesis.”
Jennifer felt another rush of light-headedness, but this time it passed quickly. “You’ve changed your mind,” she said. It was a statement, not a question.
“That is true,” said Dr. Vandermer. “Initially, I was convinced that your brother’s problem had been congenital, meaning a chromosomal change after conception. But I got the slides from the hospital where your brother died, and the lab thinks the problem may be hereditary. Given that possibility, it would be a mistake not to take advantage of all the technology at our disposal.”
“Would the test show if my child had the same problem?” asked Jennifer.
“Absolutely,” said Dr. Vandermer. “But we should do it soon, since it takes several weeks to get the results. If we wait too long, it will be difficult to do anything if the result is positive.”
“By ‘doing anything’ you mean an abortion?” said Jennifer.
“Yes,” said Dr. Vandermer. “The chances of a problem are very small, but with the ambivalence you’ve voiced, I think that you would be able to handle such an eventuality.”
“I’ll have to talk with my husband and my parents,” said Jennifer.
She left the office nervous about the prospect of amniocentesis but glad she had a doctor as caring as Vandermer. She’d have to tell Adam that she’d totally reversed her original impression of the man.
Adam never quite lost consciousness. He was vaguely aware of being dragged into Percy’s living room and unceremoniously dumped onto the couch. He felt his wallet being removed, and then replaced. That little sequence didn’t jibe with his expectations, and puzzling it over, he shook off his stupor.
The first thing he did was search for his glasses, which were suddenly thrust into his hand. He put them on and the room came into focus. Sitting in front of him was a heavyset man in a blue suit and a white shirt open at the collar.
“Good morning,” said the man. “Welcome back.”
Adam moved. Nothing hurt, which was surprising.
“Unless you want to ride down to the police station, Mr. Schonberg, you’d better tell me what you were doing in this apartment.”
“Nothing,” croaked Adam. He cleared his throat.
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” said the man, lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke toward the ceiling.
“I could say the same for you,” said Adam.
The stranger reached over and grabbed Adam’s shirt front, almost lifting him off the couch. “I’m not in the mood for wisecracks,” he snarled.
Adam nodded.
As suddenly as he’d grabbed him, the man let him go. “OK,” said the stranger. “Let’s start again. What were you doing in this apartment?”
“I am a friend of Percy Harmon,” said Adam quickly. “Well, sort of a friend. I was starting work for Arolen Pharmaceuticals and he took me around to teach me the routine.”
The man nodded slightly, as if he accepted the story so far.
“Percy was supposed to call me,” Adam said. “He never did and he never answered his phone. So I came over to see if he was here.”
“That doesn’t explain why you broke into the apartment,” said the stranger.
“It was an impulse,” said Adam meekly. “I wanted to see if he was all right.”
The man didn’t say anything. The silence and the tension quickly began to wear on Adam. “I liked Percy,” he said. “I was worried about him. He was supposed to go to Puerto Rico for a training course, but he never got there.”
The man remained silent.
“That’s all I know,” said Adam. “I never saw him again.”
“I believe you,” said the man, after a pause.
“Thank you,” said Adam, relieved to the point he could have cried.
The man stubbed out his cigarette. Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a card and extended it to Adam. It said “Robert Marlow, Private Investigator.” In the lower right-hand corner was a telephone number.
“About six weeks ago Percy Harmon left a Japanese restaurant in Fort Lee, New Jersey. He never got home. I’ve been hired by the family to see what I can find out. I’ve been watching the apartment. Aside from a couple of young ladies, you’re the only one to show up.”
“Do you have any idea of what could have happened to him?” asked Adam.
“Not the foggiest,” said Mr. Marlow. “But if you happen to hear anything, I’d appreciate a call.”
Adam still felt shell-shocked when he got back to his empty apartment. Jennifer’s absence irritated him. He was upset and he wanted to talk to her, but he guessed she was off with her mother again. He flung himself down on the bed and turned on the news. Slowly he began to unwind.
The next thing Adam knew, he heard the front door close and for a moment thought he was back in Harmon’s apartment.
“Well, well,” teased Jennifer. “Lying down on the job.”
Adam didn’t answer.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“I suppose you’ve been to Englewood,” Adam snapped unreasonably.
Jennifer stared at him. She wasn’t up to one of Adam’s moods. She resented having to apologize for seeing her parents. Putting her hands on her hips, she said, “Yes, I did go home.”
“I guessed as much,” said Adam, turning to the television.
“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Jennifer.
“Nothing in particular,” said Adam.
“Look,” said Jennifer, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I had good reason to go home. Dr. Vandermer suggested I have amniocentesis. I went home to discuss whether or not to do it.”
“That’s nice,” said Adam sarcastically. “You discuss it with your parents even though it is our child.”
“I knew I couldn’t get hold of you during the day,” explained Jennifer, trying to be reasonable. “Of course I planned to discuss it with you. But I wanted to talk to my mother because she experienced the trauma of giving birth to a Down’s baby.”
“I still think the decision is ours alone,” said Adam.
He rolled over and put his feet on the floor, knowing he was being unfair. “Besides, I thought Vandermer said you didn’t need amniocentesis.”
“That’s true,” said Jennifer. “But today he told me that after checking the slides on my brother, he thinks I should have it.”