“We were more colleagues than friends.”
“Whatever,” Schwartz said with another wave of his chubby hand. “So what can I do for you?”
Jason retold Hayes’s story of a purported breakthrough. He explained that he was trying to figure out what Hayes had been working on and had come across correspondence from Samuel Schwartz.
“He was a client. So what?”
“No need to be defensive.”
“I’m not defensive. I’m just bitter. I did a lot of work for that bum and I’m going to have to write it all off.”
“He never paid?”
“Never. He conned me into working for stock in his new company.”
“Stock?”
Samuel Schwartz laughed without humor. “Unfortunately, now that Hayes is dead, the stock is worthless. It might have been worthless even if he had lived. I should have my head examined.”
“Was Hayes’s corporation going to sell a service or a product?” Jason asked.
“A product. Hayes told me he was on the verge of developing the most valuable health product ever known. And I believed him. I figured a guy who’d been on the cover of Time had to have something on the ball.”
“Any idea what this product was?” Jason asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
“Not the foggiest. Hayes wouldn’t tell me.”
“Do you know if it involved monoclonal antibodies?” Jason asked, unwilling to give up.
Schwartz laughed again. “I wouldn’t know a monoclonal antibody if I walked into it.”
“Malignancies?” Jason was only fishing, but he hoped he could jog the lawyer’s memory. “Could the product have involved a cancer treatment?”
The obese man shrugged—“I don’t know. Possibly.”
“Hayes told someone that his discovery would enhance their beauty. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Listen, Dr. Howard. Hayes told me nothing about the product. I was just setting up the corporation.”
“You were also applying for a patent.”
“The patent had nothing to do with the corporation. That was to be in Hayes’s name.”
Jason’s beeper startled both men. He watched the tiny screen. The word “urgent” blinked twice, followed by a number at the GHP hospital. “Would it be possible to use your phone?” Jason asked.
Schwartz pushed it across the desk. “Be my guest, doctor.”
The call was from Madaline Krammer’s floor. She’d arrested and they were giving her CPR. Jason said he’d be right there. Thanking Samuel Schwartz, Jason ran from the lawyer’s office and impatiently waited for the elevator.
When he got to Madaline’s room, he saw an all too familiar scene. The patient was unresponsive. Her heart refused to respond to anything, including external pacing. Jason insisted they continue life support while his mind went over various drugs and treatments, but after an hour of frantic activity, even he was forced to give up and he reluctantly called a halt to the proceedings.
Jason remained at Madaline’s bedside after everyone else had left. She’d been an old friend, one of the first patients he’d treated in his private practice. One of the nurses had covered her face with a sheet. Madaline’s nose poked it up like a miniature snow-covered mountain. Gently, Jason turned it back. Even though she had been only in her early sixties, he couldn’t get over how old she looked. Since she’d entered the hospital, her face had lost all its cheerful plumpness and taken on the skeletal cast of those nearing death.
Needing some time by himself, Jason retreated to his office, avoiding both Claudia and Sally, who each had a hundred urgent questions about the upcoming conference and the problems of rescheduling so many patients. Jason locked his door and settled himself at his desk. As such an old patient, Madaline’s passing seemed like the severing of one more connection to Jason’s former life. Jason felt poignantly alone, fearful, yet relieved, that Danielle’s memory was receding.
Jason’s phone rang, but he ignored it. He looked over his desk, which was a mass of stacked hospital charts of deceased patients, including Hayes’s. Involuntarily, Jason’s mind went back to the Hayes affair. It was frustrating that the package from Carol, which had held such hope, had added so little information. It did give a bit more credence to the idea Hayes had made a discovery that at least he thought was stupendous. Jason cursed Hayes’s secrecy.
Leaning back, Jason put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. He was running out of ideas about Hayes. But then he remembered the Oriental engineer’s comment that Hayes had brought something back from the Coast, presumably Seattle. It must have been a sample of something because Hayes had subjected it to a complicated extraction process. From Hong’s comments, it seemed to Jason that Hayes had probably been isolating some kind of growth factor which would stimulate growth, or differentiation, or maturation, or all three.
Jason came forward with a thump. Remembering that Carol had said Hayes had visited a colleague at the University of Washington, Jason suddenly entertained the idea that Hayes had obtained some kind of sample from the man.
All at once, Jason decided he’d go to Seattle, provided, of course, Carol would go along. She might. After all, she’d be the key to finding this friend. Besides, a few days away sounded extremely therapeutic to Jason. With a little time left before the staff meeting, Jason decided to stop by and see Shirley.
Shirley’s secretary at first insisted that her boss was too busy to see Jason, but he convinced her to at least announce his presence. A moment later he was ushered inside. Shirley was on the phone. Jason took a seat, gradually catching the drift of the conversation. She was dealing with a union leader, handling the person with impressive ease. Absently she ran her fingers through her thick hair. It was a wonderfully feminine gesture, reminding Jason that underneath the professional surface was a very attractive woman, complicated but lovely.
Shirley hung up and smiled. “This is a treat,” she said. “You are filled with surprises these days, aren’t you, Jason? I suppose you’re here to apologize for not having spent more time with me last night.”
Jason laughed. Her directness was disarming. “Maybe so. But there’s something else. I’m thinking of taking a few days off. I lost another patient this morning and I think I need some time away.”
Shirley clicked her tongue in sympathy. “Was it expected?”
“I guess so. At least over the last few days. But when I’d admitted her I had no idea she was terminal.”
Shirley sighed. “I don’t know how you deal with this sort of thing.”
“It’s never easy,” Jason agreed. “But what’s made it particularly hard lately is the frequency.”
Shirley’s phone rang, but she buzzed her secretary to take a message.
“Anyway,” Jason said, “I’ve decided to take a few days off.”
“I think it’s a good idea,” Shirley said. “I wouldn’t mind doing the same if these damned union negotiations conclude. Where are you planning to go?”
“I’m not sure,” Jason lied. The trip to Seattle was such a long shot that he was ashamed to mention it.
“I have some friends who own a resort in the British Virgin Islands. I could give them a call,” Shirley offered.
“No, thanks. I’m not a sun person. What’s happened about the Brennquivist tragedy? Much fallout?”
“Don’t remind me,” Shirley said. “To tell you the truth, I couldn’t face it. Bob Walthrow is handling that.”
“I had nightmares all night,” admitted Jason.
“Not surprising,” Shirley said.
“Well, I’ve got a meeting,” Jason said, getting to his feet.
“Would you have time for dinner tonight?” Shirley asked. “Maybe we can cheer each other up.”
“Sure. What time?”