英语小说网

"I'm afraid so."

"They'll close us down!" Wallace stood up and began to pace. "We can't afford that. I'll be goddamned if I'm going to put every patient in this hospital under quarantine." He stopped pacing for a moment. "Does the patient know what he has?"

"Who has had contact with him?"

"Right. I suppose you're going to dismiss her."

"Cholera? Are you telling me this hospital has a patient with cholera?" Benjamin Wallace yelled.

"We're going to have to report it, Ben."

"No. He doesn't speak English. He's from India."

By law, all cases of cholera and other infectious diseases must immediately be reported to the state health board and to the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"And Dr. Taft diagnosed it as stomach flu?"

"No question," Dr. Ritter said. "His stool is swarming with vibrios. He has low arterial pH, with hypotension, tachycardia, and cyanosis."

"Two nurses and Dr. Taft."

"Well, no," Wallace said. "Anyone can make a mistake. Let's not be hasty. Does the patient's chart read stomach flu?"

"We aren't going to report this?" Dr. Ritter asked.

"Hindi."

Honey was in a panic. She went to find Paige.

Ten minutes later, Paige was talking to Pandit Jawah.

"What's the problem?"

"Aap ki tabyat kaisi hai?"

"Put him in quarantine for forty-eight hours. He'll either be cured by then or dead."

"Karab hai."

"I need your help."

"Pandit Jawah."

Wallace made his decision. "Let's leave it that way. Here's what I want you to do. Start intravenous rehydration -- use lactated Ringer's solution. Also give him tetracycline. If we can restore his blood volume and fluid immediately, he could be close to normal in a few hours."

"Yes."

"Of course."

Honey told her. "I wish you would talk to him. He doesn't speak English, and you speak Indian."

"Whatever. Will you talk to him?"

"Give them tetracycline, too. What's the patient's name?"

"Aap ka ilaj hum jalb shuroo kardenge."

Wallace looked him in the eye. "Report a case of stomach flu?"

"What about the nurses and Dr. Taft?"

"Bhagwan aap ki soney ga."

"Aap jald acha ko hum kardenge."

"He said he feels terrible. I told him he's going to get well. He said to tell it to God. I told him we're going to start treatment immediately. He said he's grateful."

Paige took Honey outside in the corridor.

"What are friends for?"

"What did he say?"

"Shukria."

Five hours after his treatment began, Pandit Jawah was nearly back to normal.

Paige stopped in to see Jimmy Ford.

Ken Mallory was getting off duty and was on his way to meet Kat when he heard his name being paged. He hesitated, debating whether or not simply to slip out. His name was paged once more. Reluctantly, he picked up a telephone. "Dr. Mallory."

His face lit up when he saw her. "Hi." His voice was weak, but he had improved miraculously.

"Dost kiss liay hain?"

"So am I."

"How are you feeling?" Paige asked.

"Great. Did you hear about the doctor who said to his patient, The best thing you can do is give up smoking, stop drinking, and cut down on your sex life'? The patient said, 'I don't deserve the best. What's the second best?'"

Cholera is a disease that can cause death within twenty-four hours from dehydration, or that can be cured within a few hours.

And Paige knew Jimmy Ford was going to get well.

"Doctor, could you come to ER Two, please? We have a patient here who --"

Damn! "All right. I'll be right there." I'll have to call Kat and tell her I'll be late.

The patient in the emergency room was a man in his sixties. He was semiconscious, ghost-pale, perspiring, and breathing hard, obviously in enormous pain. Mallory took one look at him and said, "Get him into an OR, stat!"

"Pump some more blood into him."

"Sorry," Mallory said, "I just checked out. Find someone else."

"There's no one else available who can handle this. It's a bleeding ulcer, and the patient's condition is critical. I'm afraid we're going to lose him if…"

Fifteen minutes later, Mallory had the patient on an operating table. The anesthesiologist was monitoring his blood pressure. "It's dropping fast."

Ken Mallory began the operation, working against time. It took only a moment to cut through the skin, and after that, the layer of fat, the fascia, the muscle, and finally the smooth, transparent peritoneum, the lining of the abdomen. Blood was pouring into the stomach.

"Bovie!" Mallory said. "Get me four units of blood from the blood bank." He began to cauterize the bleeding vessels.

One of the nurses gave Mallory a warm smile. "It's a good thing you were here, Dr. Mallory."

He looked over at her. She was young and pretty and obviously open to an invitation. I'll get to you later, baby, Mallory thought. He turned to a junior resident, "Close him up and get him into the recovery room. I'll check on him in the morning."

Mallory debated whether to telephone Kat, but it was midnight. He sent her two dozen roses.

The operation took four hours, and when it was over, Mallory was exhausted. He looked down at the patient and said, "He's going to live."

Mallory walked over to the bed. "I'm Dr. Mallory. How do you feel?"

"He's awake," the nurse said.

"When I think of the alternative, I feel fine," the patient said weakly. "They tell me you saved my life. This was the damnedest thing. I was in the car on my way to a dinner party, and I got this sudden pain and I guess I blacked out. Fortunately, we were only a block away from the hospital, and they brought me to the emergency room here."

When Mallory checked in at 6:00 A. M., he stopped by the recovery room to see his new patient.

The name meant nothing to Mallory. "Glad to know you, Mr. Harrison." He was checking Harrison's pulse. "Are you in any pain now?"

The patient was studying him carefully. "I'm Alex Harrison."

"We should have you out of here in a few days."

In the afternoon, when Mallory stopped by to see Alex Harrison, there was an attractive woman with him. She was in her early thirties, blond and trim, and elegant-looking. She was wearing an Adolfo dress that Mallory figured must have cost more than his monthly salary.

"You were lucky. You lost a lot of blood."

Mallory shrugged. "I was just doing my job."

"A bit, but I guess they have me pretty well doped up."

"You mean you want to know if I can pay my bill."

A clerk from the business office came in, carrying some hospital forms. "Mr. Harrison, for our records, the hospital needs to know whether you have medical coverage."

"Well, I wouldn't put it like that, sir."

"The anesthetic will wear off," Mallory assured him. "So will the pain. You're going to be fine."

"How long will I have to be in the hospital?"

"They told me that in another ten minutes, I would have been gone. I want to thank you, doctor."

"You might check with the San Francisco Fidelity Bank," he said dryly. "I own it."

"Dr. Mallory, this is my daughter, Lauren."

It was a strange question. "It's interesting, yes. Why?"

"Ah! Here's our hero," Alex Harrison said. "It's Dr. Mallory, isn't it?"

"Maybe it was fate that brought me here."

Harrison sat up in bed. "Well, I was just thinking. A good-looking fellow as capable as you are could have a damned bright future. I don't think you have much of a future in a place like this."

Lauren spoke up. "I think what my father is trying to say is that he would like to show you his appreciation."

Alex Harrison shook his head. "That won't be necessary. He didn't save my life. You did. Do you like it here?"

"Yes. Ken Mallory."

Lauren was looking over him approvingly. "Not all doctors."

He smiled. "That's what doctors are for."

"Well, I…"

She held out a slim, manicured hand. "Father tells me you saved his life."

It was obvious to Mallory that these two did not belong in a county hospital. He said to Alex Harrison, "You're coming along fine, but perhaps you'd feel more comfortable if you called your own doctor."

Ken Mallory was having a surprisingly difficult time getting together with Kat.

The following morning, he saw Kat at the hospital. She ran up to him.

"No. Why don't we meet at Chez Panisse?"

"I promised Paige and Honey that we'd do something together Wednesday."

And it changed his life.

"Great. Shall I pick you up?"

"What about Wednesday?"

"Wait! I just remembered. A cousin from New York is coming to town for the night."

"Very well. Eight o'clock?"

Mallory was getting desperate. His time was running out too fast.

"Good. I'll pick you up at --"

Mallory looked at Lauren and said slowly, "I'd like that."

"Wonderful."

"How's Monday night, Kat?"

"Thursday is fine."

"Well, Tuesday?"

"Thursday?"

"I'm on call Tuesday."

Mallory waited at the restaurant until nine o'clock and then telephoned Kat. There was no answer. He waited another half hour. Maybe she misunderstood, he thought. She wouldn't deliberately break a date with me.

"Perfect."

"Lauren is right. You and I should have a serious talk when I get out of here. I'd like you to come up to the house for dinner."

"Excuse me." Kat picked up a telephone. "Dr. Hunter." She listened a moment. "Thanks. I'll be right there." She replaced the receiver. "I have to go. Emergency."

And so it went.

"Me, too," Kat said. "I can't wait."

Kat was reporting events to Paige when her beeper went off.

"Maybe next weekend we can…"

Kat strode down the corridor and took an elevator down to the emergency room. Inside were two dozen cots, all of them occupied. Kat thought of it as the suffering room, filled day and night with victims of automobile accidents, gunshots or knife wounds, and twisted limbs. A kaleidoscope of broken lives. To Kat it was a small corner of hell.

Paige sighed. "What else is new?"

"Oh, dear. I'm busy over the weekend."

"No, no. It's all right." The stupid woman! He moved closer to her. "I want to finish what we started, baby. I go crazy when I think about you."

"Oh, Ken, I'm so sorry! It was the silliest thing. I decided to take a little nap before our date. I fell asleep and when I woke up it was the middle of the night. Poor darling. Did you wait for me long?"

The clock was running.

"What have we got?" Kat asked. They were moving toward a cot at the far end of the room.

"He's unconscious. It looks as though someone beat him up. His face and head are battered, he has a broken nose, a dislocated shoulder blade, at least two different fractures to his right arm, and…"

An orderly hurried up to her. "Dr. Hunter…"

Kat ran skillful fingers over his scalp and examined his eyes. There was a definite concussion.

"The paramedics think there's a head injury. There could be brain damage."

They had reached the cot where the victim lay. His face was caked with blood, swollen and bruised. He was wearing alligator shoes and… Kat's heart skipped a beat. She leaned forward and took a closer look. It was Lou Dinetto.

"Why did you call me?"

Kat replaced the receiver and turned her attention back to Dinetto. She said to the orderly, "Stay with him. When the gurney arrives, take him to the third floor. I'll be waiting."

She hurried over to a telephone and dialed. "This is Dr. Hunter. I want a head CAT scan done. The patient's name is Dinetto. Lou Dinetto. Send down a gurney, stat."

"Did you hear about the flasher in the garment district? He walked up to a little old lady and opened up his raincoat. She studied him a moment and said, 'You call that a lining?'"

Kat wondered whether what had happened to Dinetto might affect Mike.

Thirty minutes later on the third floor, Kat was studying the CAT scan she had ordered. "He has some brain hemorrhaging, he has a high fever, and he's in shock. I want him stabilized for twenty-four hours. I'll decide then when we'll operate."

Paige stopped by to see Jimmy. He was feeling much better.

Kat was having dinner with Mallory at an intimate little restaurant near the bay. Seated across from Mallory, studying him, Kat felt guilty. I should never have started this, she thought. I know what he is, and yet I'm having a wonderful time. Damn the man! But I can't stop our plan now.

And how.

Kat leaned forward. "Can we go to your place, Ken?"

"You bet!" Finally, Mallory thought.

They had finished their coffee.

Kat shifted in her chair uncomfortably and frowned. "Uh, oh!"

"Certainly." He watched her get up and head for the ladies' room.

Five minutes after Kat returned to the apartment, the front doorbell rang. Kat smiled to herself. Mallory had found an excuse to come back, and she hated herself for being so pleased. She walked over to the door and opened it.

"Neither do I," Kat said. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm tired and --"

He was going to lose a precious five days.

Kat's throat was dry. "Yes."

"Is there a chance he'll die?" the Shadow asked.

Rhino and the Shadow were standing there. Kat felt a sudden sense of fear. The two men pushed past her into the apartment.

"Ken…"

"Right," Mallory said curtly. He was ready to explode.

"I don't know. Would you excuse me for a moment?"

He stared at her, trying to conceal his frustration. The damned fates were conspiring against him.

When she returned, she said, "It's bad timing, darling. I'm so sorry. You'd better get me home."

"We don't want anything to happen to him."

Rhino spoke. "You doin' the operation on Mr. Dinetto?"

"Are you all right?" Mallory asked.

"We don't threaten people, doc. We're telling you. If Mr. Dinetto dies, you and your fucking family are gonna be wiped out."

"You better not let it happen."

"Believe me, I --"

Kat hesitated. "In brain surgery there's always a risk of --"

"Don't let it happen." He looked at Rhino. "Let's go."

At the door, the Shadow turned and said, "Say hello to Mike for us."

Kat watched them start to leave.

Kat was suddenly very still. "Is… is this some kind of threat?"