“What’s on your mind?”
Hayes leaned farther forward, knuckles resting on Jason’s blotter. He whispered, “Not here. I want to talk with you tonight. Outside of GHP.”
There was a moment of strained silence. Hayes’s behavior was obviously abnormal, and Jason wondered if he should try to get the man to talk to his friend Patrick Quillan, thinking a psychiatrist might have more to offer him. If Hayes wanted to talk away from the hospital, it couldn’t be about his health.
“It’s important,” Hayes added, striking Jason’s desk impatiently.
“All right,” Jason said quickly, afraid Hayes might throw a tantrum if he hesitated any longer. “How about dinner?” He wanted to meet the man in a public place.
“All right. Where?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Jason shrugged. “How about the North End for some Italian food?”
“Fine. When and where?”
Jason ran down the list of restaurants he knew in the North End section of Boston, a warren of crooked streets that made you feel you’d been mystically transplanted to southern Italy. “How about Carbonara?” he suggested. “It’s on Rachel Revere Square, across from Paul Revere House.”
“I know it,” Hayes said. “What time?”
“Eight?”
“That’s fine.” Hayes turned and walked somewhat unsteadily toward the door. “And don’t invite anyone else. I want to talk with you alone.” Without waiting for a reply, he left, pulling the door shut behind him.
Jason shook his head in amazement and went back to his patients.
Within a few minutes, he was again absorbed in his work, and the bizarre episode with Hayes slipped into his unconscious. The afternoon drifted on without unwelcome surprises. At least Jason’s outpatients seemed to be doing well and responding to the various regimens he’d ordered. That gave a needed boost to his confidence that the Harring affair had undermined. With only two more patients to be seen, Jason crossed the waiting room after having done a minor surgical procedure in one of the treatment rooms. Just before he disappeared into his office to dictate the procedure, he caught sight of Shirley Montgomery leaning on the central desk and chatting with the secretaries. Within the clinical environment, Shirley stood out like Cinderella at the ball. In contrast to the other women, who were dressed in white skirts and blouses or white pants suits, Shirley wore a conservative silk dress that tried but failed to hide her attractive figure. Although few people could guess when seeing her, Shirley was the chief executive officer of the entire Good Health Plan organization. She was as attractive as any model, and she had a PhD in hospital administration from Columbia and a master’s degree from the Harvard Business School.
With her physical and mental attributes, Shirley could have been intimidating, but she wasn’t. She was outgoing and sensitive and as a result she got along with everyone: maintenance people, secretaries, nurses, and even the surgeons. Shirley Montgomery could take personal credit for providing a good portion of the glue that held GHP together and made it work so smoothly.
When she spotted Jason, she excused herself from the secretaries. She moved toward him with the ease and grace of a dancer. Her thick brown hair was swept back from her forehead and layered along the side into a heavy mane. Her makeup was applied so expertly that she didn’t seem to be wearing any. Her large blue eyes shone with intelligence.
“Excuse me. Dr. Howard,” she said formally. At the very comers of her mouth there was the faint hint of a smile. Unknown to the staff, Shirley and Jason had been seeing each other on a social basis for several months. It had started during one of the semiannual staff meetings when they had met each other over cocktails. When Jason learned that her husband had recently died of cancer, he felt an immediate bond.
During the dinner that followed, she told Jason that one morning three years ago her husband had awakened with a severe headache. Within months he was dead from a brain tumor that had been unresponsive to any treatment. At the time they had both been working at the Humana Hospital Corporation. Afterward, like Jason, she had felt compelled to move and had come to Boston. When she told Jason the story, it had affected him so deeply that he’d broken his own wall of silence. That same evening he shared his own anguish concerning his wife’s accident and death.
Fueled by this extraordinary commonality of emotional experience, Jason and Shirley began a relationship that hovered somewhere between friendship and romance. Each knew the other was too emotionally raw to move too quickly.
Jason was perplexed. She had never sought him out in such a fashion. As usual, he had only the vaguest notion of what was going on inside her expansive mind. In so many ways she was the most complicated woman he’d ever met. “Can I be of assistance?” he asked, watching for some hint of her intent.
“I know you must be busy,” she was saying now, “but I was wondering if you were free tonight.” She lowered her voice, turning her back on Claudia’s unwavering stare. “I’m having an impromptu dinner party tonight with several Harvard Business School acquaintances. I’d like you to join us. How about it?”
Jason immediately regretted having made plans to eat with Alvin Hayes. If only he’d agreed to see the man for drinks.
“I know it’s short notice,” Shirley added, sensing Jason’s hesitation.
“That’s not the problem. The trouble is that I promised to have dinner with Alvin Hayes.”
“Our Dr. Hayes?” Shirley said with obvious surprise.
“None other. I know it sounds peculiar, but he seemed almost distraught. And though he’s hardly been friendly, I felt sorry for the man. Dinner was my suggestion.”
“Damn!” Shirley said. “You’d have enjoyed this group. Well, next time…”
“I’ll take a rain check,” Jason said. She was about to leave when he remembered his conversation with Roger Wanamaker. “I probably should tell you I’m going to call a staff meeting. A number of patients have died of coronary disease which our physicals have missed. As acting chief of service I thought I should look into it. Dropping dead within a month of receiving a clean bill of health from us doesn’t make for good PR.”
“Dear God,” Shirley said. “Don’t go spreading rumors like that!”
“Well, it’s a bit unnerving when someone you’ve examined with all your resources and declared essentially healthy comes back to the hospital with a catastrophic condition and dies. Avoiding such an event is the whole purpose of the executive physical. I think we should try to increase the sensitivity of our stress testing.”
“An admirable goal,” Shirley agreed. “All I ask is that you keep it low key. Our executive physicals play a major role in our campaign to lure some of the larger corporate clients in the area. Let’s keep this an in-house issue.”
“Absolutely,” said Jason. “Sorry about tonight.”
“Me too,” Shirley said, lowering her voice. “I didn’t think Dr. Hayes socialized much. What’s up with him?”
“It’s a mystery to me,” Jason admitted, “but I’ll let you know.”
“Please,” Shirley said. “I’m one of the main reasons GHP hired the man. I feel responsible. Talk to you soon.” She moved off, smiling to nearby patients.
Jason watched her for a moment, then caught Claudia’s stare. She guiltily looked down at her work. Jason wondered if the secret was out. With a shrug he went back to his last two patients.
CHAPTER 2
Late fall in Boston was an exhilarating season for Jason despite the bleak winter it heralded. Dressed in his Indiana Jones-style fedora and his “lived-in” Burberry trench coat, he was adequately protected from the chilly October night.