...first time... ever made mistake... surely overlooked... won't happen... promise you...”
Andrew reached for Townsend's arm but Ezra Gould was ahead of him. Grasping it, Gould said firmly, "Noah, let's get out of here. You're not well. I'm going to take you home.”
Still shaken by sobs, Townsend allowed himself to be eased toward the elevators. Curious glances followed them. Gould turned to Andrew. Pushing Townsend slightly ahead, the chief of medicine said quietly, "Andrew, stay here. Find out which patients Noah saw today and check any orders he may have written. Do it quickly. There must be no repetition of... You understand?" Andrew nodded.”Yes.”
Reluctantly he watched the other two go. When they reached the elevators Townsend began screaming and shouting hysterically, trying to resist. Suddenly, incredibly, something within him seemed to have collapsed, reducing him to a shard of his former sell', a broken figure, stripped of all dignity and stature. As an elevator door opened Gould shoved Townsend roughly, hurriedly inside. Even when the door closed the screaming could be heard. Then it faded as the elevator descended, leaving Andrew standing alone amid the silence.
That evening, after dinner, Andrew received a telephone call at home from Ezra Gould.
"I want to see you," the chief of medicine said.”Tonight. Where would be most convenient? I'll come to your house if you wish.”
"No," Andrew said.”Let's make it at the hospital.”
He had not felt equal yet to telling Celia about Noah and though, as she always did, Celia sensed something wrong, she had not pressed him for the reason. When Andrew arrived at St. Bede's, Dr. Gould was in the tiny office which the hospital set aside for his use.”Come in," he said.”And close the door.”
Opening a desk drawer, Gould produced a bottle of scotch and two glasses. "It's against the rules and I do this rarely. But I feel a need tonight. Will you join me?" Andrew said gratefully, "Yes, please.”
Gould poured the drinks, added ice and water, and they drank in silence. Then Gould said, "I've been with Noah almost since I left you. There are several things you should know. The first is-since it will affect your practice and Noah's patients-Noah Townsend will never practice medicine again.”
“How is he?" Andrew asked. 'Make that 'where is he, and I'll answer.”
Gould swirled the remaining liquid in his glass.”He's been committed to a private psychiatric hospital in Newark. In the opinion of those competent to know, he’s unlikely ever to leave.”
As Gould described the events of the afternoon and early evening his voice was strained. At one point he commented grimly, "I hope I never go through anything like this again.”
After leaving Andrew, when Gould and Townsend reached the main floor of St. Bede's the chief of medicine managed to hustle Townsend, still screaming, into an unoccupied treatment room where Gould locked the door and telephoned urgently for a staff psychiatrist. When the psychiatrist arrived, between them they subdued Townsend and sedated him. Obviously, in his condition Townsend could not be taken home so the psychiatrist had done some hasty telephoning, after which Townsend was removed by ambulance to the institute in Newark. Gould and the psychiatrist accompanied him. By the time they arrived at the psychiatric hospital, the sedation had worn off and Townsend became violent, necessitating his being restrained in a straitjacket.
”Oh, Christ, it was awful!" Gould took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. At that point, more or less, it became evident that Noah Townsend had become insane. As Ezra Gould described it,
"It was as if somehow Noah had been living-for a long time and because of his drug addiction, of course-as an empty shell. God knows how he managed to keep going, but he did. Then, suddenly, what happened today caused the shell to crumple... and there was nothing functioning inside and, the way it looks now, nothing salvageable either.”
An hour ago, Gould continued, he had been to see Noah Townsend's wife. Andrew was startled. Amid all that had occurred in the past few days, he had given no thought to Hilda, He asked, "How has she taken it?"
Gould considered before answering.”It's hard to say. She didn't talk a lot and she didn't break down. I got the impression she's been expecting something to happen, though never knowing what. I think you'd better see her yourself tomorrow.”
"Yes," Andrew said. A will.”
Gould hesitated. Then, looking at Andrew directly, he said, "There's one more thing you and I have to discuss, and that's the dead man, Wyrazik.”
"I may as well tell you now," Andrew said firmly, "I have no intention of being part of any cover-up.”
"All right," Gould acknowledged; his voice sharpened.”Then let me ask you this: What do you propose doing? Are you going to make a public statement, maybe to the press? After that will you volunteer as a prosecution witness in a malpractice suit? Will you help some ambulance-chasing lawyer on a fat contingency fee take away from Townsend's wife whatever money Noah had accumulated for their old age? Will you load this hospital with damages far in excess of any insurance we carry, and which could break us financially, so we might have to reduce our services or close?" Andrew protested, "None of that may happen.”
"But it could. You've read enough about sharp lawyers to know what they can do in court.”
"That isn't my problem," Andrew insisted.”What's important is the truth.”
"The truth is important to us all," Gould answered.”You don't have a monopoly on that. But sometimes the truth can be shaded for decent reasons and in special circumstances," His voice became persuasive.”Now listen carefully, Andrew. Hear me out.”
The chief of medicine paused, gathering his thoughts, then said, "The dead man's sister, Miss Wyrazik, arrived this afternoon from Kansas. Len Sweeting saw her. She's a nice ordinary woman, he says, quite a bit older than her brother was, and of course she's sorry about his death. But the two of them weren't close, haven't been for many years, so for her it's not a shattering bereavement. There's a father back in Kansas, but he has Parkinson's. It's advanced, he hasn't long to live.”
Andrew said, "I don't see what all this-" "You will. Just listen!" Again Gould paused before continuing.”Wyrazik's sister is not here to make trouble. She hasn't asked a lot of questions. She even volunteered the statement that her brother's health was never good. She wants his remains cremated, and after-ward she'll take the ashes back to Kansas. But she does have problems about money. When Len talked to her he discovered that.”
"Then she's entitled to be helped. Surely that's the least-" "Exactly! We're all agreed on that, Andrew. What's more, financial help can be arranged.”
"How?" "Len and Fergus McNair have worked it out. They've been busy this afternoon. Never mind all details; you and I don't need to know them, But the fact is, our insurers-who've been talked to confidentially-have an interest in seeing this thing ended quietly. Wyrazik, it appears, was sending money to Kansas to help pay medical expenses for his father. Those amounts can be continued, maybe augmented. Wyrazik's funeral expenses will be paid. And there can be a pension, not enormous but sufficient, for the sister for the remainder of her life.”
"How will you explain that to her without admitting liability? Supposing she becomes suspicious?" "I imagine it's a risk," Gould said, "though Len and McNair don't seem to think so, and they're lawyers after all. They believe they can handle it discreetly. Also, I suppose, it has to do with the kind of woman Miss Wyrazik is. The most important thing: this way there won't be any ridiculous multimillion dollar settlements.”
"I suppose," Andrew said, "what's ridiculous or isn't depends on your point of view.”