by Liz Turner
Hallie was just putting her key in the door about to head home, when her nurse, Laura Thompson, hurried up the hall. Laura was a skilled nurse, Hallie could tell that already even though they had only been working together for a few weeks. So, she knew that if Laura needed something after hours, it must be quite important.
“Dr. Malone! Glad to have caught you. Would you by any chance be able to see another patient tonight? I know he wasn’t on your schedule, but he came in inquiring about a last-minute appointment. He’s limping badly, in real pain it seems,” Laura said. She was a slight woman of about thirty-five years, and her white uniform cap was hanging haphazardly off the back of her head, revealing her wispy blonde hair. She must have run up the hall.
“What’s the patient’s name?” Hallie asked. She tried to remember a patient who might need emergency care at this hour. No one she had recently treated had any sort of serious medical issue.
Consulting the pad on which she had written the message, Laura replied, “A Mr. Lewis. Says he’s been in to see you once before.”
Hallie hesitated. Mr. Lewis was one of her first patients at Warrenton. He had come in complaining of a pain in his hip, but after receiving his diagnosis and prescribed treatment, he hadn’t been in to see her for several months now. Hallie had all but forgotten about him. If she remembered correctly, Mr. Lewis’ ailment should have been cured quickly by rest and the simple anti-inflammatory drug she had given him. What could have gone wrong—and after so much time had passed? Why not just go to the emergency room? But Laura seemed desperate for Hallie to help this man; her eyebrows were furrowed over her eyes and she was anxiously tugging at her apron.
Hallie signed. Dr. Livingstone would have to wait. They could go to the picture the next week. “Yes, Laura, of course. Send him in,” she said, turning her key back and pushing open her office door. “Oh, Laura?”
“Yes, Dr. Malone?”
“Could you get a message out to Dr. Livingstone that I won’t be able to make it this evening?”
Laura reddened. “Yes, I will,” she nodded and walked away briskly.
Hallie had no more set her kit back on her desk than a man barreled in, leading with his polished wooden cane. He wore an expensive, clean wool suit, into which the sweat from his neck and face seemed to be pouring freely. Laura appeared behind him, smiled meekly at Hallie, then gently closed the door.
As soon as the door clicked behind Laura, Mr. Lewis brandished his cane at Hallie menacingly. “I suppose you don’t know why I’m here,” he said gruffly. His face was red, and he heaved a few times as he tried to catch his breath, whether from anger or pain, Hallie couldn’t tell. He was short and a good fifteen pounds overweight, but he carried himself with confidence. Even though he was blotchy and sputtering, Hallie had to admit he clearly had a handsome face, with piercing hazel eyes glaring at her from under long lashes.
“Aside from you being in pain, I can’t say I know anything about why you’re here, you’re right,” Hallie replied, slipping back on her lab coat. She knew the best way to handle difficult patients was to retain the calm and professional demeanor she had spent years perfecting. Often, back during the war, she had had to struggle to hold down burly soldiers who were not only in pain, but suffering from extreme mental and emotional stress as well, all the while speaking to them authoritatively and soothingly until they submitted to the treatment. Mr. Lewis, with all his bluster, did not intimidate Hallie, though she could see how he must have made Laura very nervous.
“Well, let me tell you what’s wrong with me, Dr. Malone,” Lewis continued, leaning heavily on his cane. “You diagnosed me in April last year, saying that I was suffering from bursitis of the hip. And that’s not it at all.”
“Let me see—” Hallie tried to begin, but Lewis cut her off, wagging his finger in her face.
“Let me just tell you the situation. After trying your treatments to no avail, after a few months, I was suffering so bad lately that I went to another doctor. He told me that I must have fractured my hip long ago, and he even took an x-ray.” Lewis stopped talking long enough to pull a large envelope out of his briefcase. “Here it is. You can see for yourself,” he said. He jostled the envelope in Dr. Malone’s direction, almost seeming to dare her to take it.
Hallie studied him, noting how he was jutting out his right hip awkwardly, and then reached for the x-ray. Upon looking at it, she drew her lips together in confusion. Lewis’ x-ray did indeed reveal a hairline fracture running along the top of the hip plate, an injury, though small, that could be quite painful. Still, Hallie was certain she would have easily spotted such an injury when Lewis had come in the first time. She distinctly remembered ordering an x-ray to rule out the possibility of a fracture. Certainly, this must be some mistake!
But, glancing at Mr. Lewis, Hallie felt her indignation softening. He seemed to be having trouble breathing through the pain, his chest rising and falling at a labored pace. When Lewis had come to see her some months ago, she had just started at Warrenton as a general practitioner after some time working as a medical examiner—could she have been out of practice? She hadn’t known his history, and she supposed it was possible she misdiagnosed.
However, Hallie wasn’t ready to admit that. Bursitis was a common ailment in men over the age of forty, a case of inflammation of the fluid sac meant to lubricate the joints and prevent them from rubbing together painfully. Lewis’ injury had been consistent with the symptoms of bursitis: pain in his hip joint, and a previous injury in that area from a fall which likely would have caused bursitis. It was a perfect diagnosis.
And even if she hadn’t been in the habit of treating patients in the few weeks before seeing Lewis, she certainly knew the difference between bursitis and a fracture on an x-ray. She was a practicing physician now for over twenty-five years! If there was a bright side to her age, it was that it meant that she had worlds of medical experience and knowledge. She was a good doctor, she knew that. There had to be some other explanation for the sudden appearance of a hip fracture on Mr. Lewis’ x-ray. She would check it against the x-ray she had conducted when he first came to see her, to ensure she didn’t miss the early stage of a fracture. What a blunder that would be, Hallie thought fleetingly, before shaking it off and placing the x-ray firmly on her desk.
Lewis sighed loudly and stamped his cane down on the floor. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began to mop his forehead and neck, all the while staring impatiently at Hallie.
Hallie beamed a conciliatory smile at him. Better to keep this man happy. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Lewis, I’ll need to consult my own records and my notes. I’ll ask my nurse to fetch them for us,” she said calmly. “Laura? Can you come in here for a moment?” she asked via the intercom, then turned to Lewis. “Won’t you sit down Mr. Lewis? I’m sure this won’t take long.”
He gave a noisy snort and blotted at his face. “Oh, I think I can manage to stand, thank you, baby doll.”
Hallie inwardly bristled. She was used to not always being respected as a female doctor, and something told her “baby doll” in this case, was not meant as a compliment. Could that be why he was so skeptical of her diagnosis? Because she was a woman? She took a deep breath and smoothed her coat. “Alright then, Mr. Lewis.”
As they waited, the two tried their best to avoid talking. Hallie sat down at her desk and began work on her schedule for the next day, resisting the urge to glance up too often at Lewis, who was attempting to pace around her office. He grimaced each time he put weight on his right leg.
“Have you been in this much pain since April?” Hallie asked, taking care to keep her tone casual.
Lewis stopped abruptly. He turned to face her degrees framed on the wall. “Johns Hopkins University. Hallie Marie Malone. Doctor of Medicine,” he said. “Now that’s impressive, baby doll. You’d think a doctor such as yourself would be able to tell the difference between bursitis of the hip and a fracture.”
“Yes, I think I would,” Hallie
replied, feeling her anger creep into her voice.
Lewis didn’t say anything for a long moment and remained fixated on her degree, his back to Hallie. Then, he said, rooted in place, “Yes, a doctor like you should be able to tell when someone has a fracture… should be able to tell the difference between, say, the common cold, and influenza. Influenza can be quite deadly, I hear. Especially in children. I don’t know how a doctor might ever recover from a misdiagnosis that led to a patient’s death.”
Hallie stiffened. “What—”
Lewis interrupted, speaking with the same deliberate drawl, “And if one did recover from such a…fatal… mistake and manage to continue on as a medical doctor, I would think that just one more misdiagnosis and people would truly start questioning her, er, or his, capabilities, don’t you?”
Feeling her stomach begin to churn, Hallie stood up abruptly. “Can I help you with something, Mr. Lewis?”
Lewis turned around slowly, an expression of pain deepening on his face as he rotated. “No, thank you, Dr. Malone. I think you’ve helped me enough.”
Hallie met his gaze. How did he find out about that incident in her residency? She would not be intimidated. The mistake was more than twenty years old, and Hallie had more than proved herself since then. But he had hit a nerve—sharply. There was nothing she regrets more than letting a patient influence her decision making that day. She grit her teeth and reminded herself what she had vowed that night: never again would she allow anything but her instinct and medical knowledge guide what she should do. And right now, her instinct was telling her that Lewis was no good.
She cleared her throat and pressed her intercom, “Laura? What’s taking so long? Can you come in here please? Immediately.”
The door opened momentarily and Laura appeared, a sheepish smile on her face. “I do apologize, Dr. Malone. A porter arrived with a package—looks like it contains Mrs. Downy’s medical records from Chicago you had requested last week—” Laura faltered as she noticed Lewis, apparently sensing the tension in the room. “…in any regard, I must have been away from my desk when you called the first time.”
Mr. Lewis had both hands in his pockets and was rocking back and forth on his heels. He harrumphed impatiently. Laura seemed unsettled by his movements and shrank back into the doorway.
“Well—I’m sorry. What is it you need me to do for you?” Laura questioned. Her deer-like eyes darted nervously between Mr. Lewis and Hallie, as though she was unsure who she should be asking.
Hallie stepped forward. “That’s alright Laura. I just need you to go down to the storage room and bring me Mr. Lewis’ file, specifically the page from my notes of his last visit here and the x-ray of his hip,” Hallie said, punching up the word x-ray. Glancing at her watch, she added, “And do be quick, Laura, no need to keep Mr. Lewis here all night. We should be able to get to the bottom of this…his question, in no time.” Hallie glanced at Lewis, expecting a biting response to her phrasing of the situation, but instead, she found that he was leering at Laura, admiring her well-fitting white smock and curling amber hair. A small smirk was playing on his lips. Of course, Hallie thought, annoyed, women are either incompetent or just something for men to look at. Fat chance he has with Laura, she thought. Her nurse had recently begun seeing someone new although Hallie hadn’t had the time to inquire who the lucky man was.
“Laura?” Hallie said, as her nurse remained rooted in her place. Poor dear, she must feel like the prey to Lewis’ wolf-like stare. Hallie stepped to her right, interrupting Lewis’s sightline to Laura.
“It’s just…” Laura replied, looking worried. She fixed her eyes hesitantly on Hallie.
“Yes? What is it?” Hallie asked.
“I’m not sure I—can I speak to you outside for a moment, Dr. Malone?” she asked, tugging at her apron.
Hallie agreed and turned to Lewis, “We’ll be back shortly, Mr. Lewis. Please, do have a seat.”
Lewis smiled a bright smile, “No thank you, Malone. I’ve been standing with this bad hip for months; I think I can handle it a little longer. Please,” he said, waving his arm gallantly toward the door and mock bowing.
Hallie nodded curtly and ushered Laura out the door. “Now, what’s the matter, Laura?”
“Well—remember that small fire in the storage room last year? The space heater someone left on?”
Hallie nodded, not liking where this was going. The incident had occurred one night after closing. The fire chief had ruled it an accident, and the fire had been relatively mild. It seemed to have died out on its own after about thirty minutes after burning through a single shelf of documents. The shelf had contained the files for patients L-N. The fire chief explained that the distance between the shelves must have been too great a leap for the fire the make, and when there was no more material to burn through, it had just petered out. He had told them they were lucky the fire hadn’t spread to all the files, or worse, to the entire hospital. Laura and Hallie had discovered the damage the next morning and spent weeks sorting through the burnt remains to see if they could salvage any documents.
“I’m not sure, but you know how some of the files we had been storing there were burned—badly damaged—in the fire? I believe Mr. Lewis’ file was among them,” Laura finished, her words picking up speed as she neared the end of the sentence.
“I see,” Hallie frowned. A thought flitted through her head—this was awfully convenient for Mr. Lewis. “That is unfortunate. Will you please go to the storage room to confirm that Mr. Lewis’ files were indeed lost in the fire? We need to be sure before I inform him of this development.”
Laura nodded quickly and strode down the hall toward the storage room. She returned a minute later, “The Lewis file isn’t there. I’m sure it was one of the files destroyed. Letter L.” Seeing Hallie’s face, she added, “Was it terribly important? I remember Mr. Lewis just came in once, right? For bursitis? Nothing that would normally have complications later.”
“Well unfortunately, there appear to be…complications, indeed, Laura. Mr. Lewis is a… complicated man. Having his file on hand would have saved us both a great deal of trouble.”
Hallie was annoyed at how things seemed to be playing right into Mr. Lewis’ hands. Nonetheless, she had to accept the facts as they were: she had nothing to prove her diagnosis had been correct. Sighing, she said, “Alright, then. Thank you, Laura. I’ll come find you when I’ve finished with Mr. Lewis.”
Laura shrugged sadly and walked off down the hall.
Chapter 2
Trouble
W hen Hallie reentered her office, Lewis was leaning against her desk. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, Mr. Lewis. Laura was explaining about a fire that occurred in our storage room a few weeks ago,” Hallie said.
Lewis laughed loudly. “A fire! In a hospital of all places! That’s rich! Well then. It’s clear to me how you run your practice, Dr. Malone. A real tight ship, indeed. One would think a woman would be more organized.”
Hallie sighed deeply. “Well, Mr. Lewis. The reason it’s relevant now is that it seems your files were lost in the fire—”
Lewis cut her off again, slapping his hands together and rubbing them against each other giddily, like a child who’s been told his father has brought him a present. “Aha! My files have been lost, you say.” He gave a cheerful, dismissive wave of his hand. “That’s all fine, Doctor. I’ve got the only x-rays you need. They prove I have a fracture in my hip, and you’ve already admitted to treating me as your patient months ago. I’m going to sue you for malpractice!” He hobbled over to the coatrack, and donning his hat, he continued, a sly grin on his face, “But, even in light of all the agony your misdiagnosis has caused me these past months, I’d be willing to settle out of court. I’m sure such an accomplished doctor as yourself can afford it. Who wants a nasty court hearing?” Mr. Lewis paused, then added, “Well, I’m sure your neighbors would enjoy having something new to gossip about.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. Alt
hough Warrenton was a wonderful place, the residents did have a penchant for gossip and nosing into everyone’s business. Hallie could just see old Mrs. Peabody relishing the scandal as she spread it around town that the new female doctor was being sued by patient. Now Hallie knew what Lewis’ real reason for barging in on her after hours was. This was blackmail. “I see, Mr. Lewis,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “And what amount would you consider being reasonable?”
Lewis met her eyes and smiled slowly. “For a mistake as serious as misdiagnosing a fracture? Why, I think about five thousand dollars would be a reasonable amount, don’t you, Dr. Malone?” He tapped his hip with the handle of his cane.
Hallie stopped. She had planned to appease Lewis to buy her time to figure out what to do. Her time in the war had taught her that when trapped by the enemy, she should move cautiously, and never reveal her hand until she was sure she held all the cards.
She stared at Lewis and the smirk smeared across his face. He thought he had won. Suddenly, all her intentions to tread slowly and go along with his ploy evaporated. Something inside her snapped. Her eyes darkened.
“Mr. Lewis,” Hallie said evenly. “Make no mistake. I am not going to pay you a settlement. Your fracture, if it exists at all, is new. There was no fracture in your hip when I saw you. Your bursitis should have been cured by following my prescription. If you took it upon yourself to injure yourself further, then I’m afraid that it is not my mistake, but yours.”
Lewis pursed his lips, unsure how to respond. His face went a dark red again, and this time, Hallie knew it was because of anger, not pain.
Her confidence swelled. She was certain now, even without the original x-ray, that Mr. Lewis had no real complaint against her. He was a con artist, the sort that preys upon doctors newly hired, without the years of established reputation with longtime patients. Lewis must have assumed he had found the perfect target in Hallie: new to Warrenton, a woman, and then there was that terrible misdiagnosis in her past. He figured she’d be desperate not to have to that incident brought up in court. The con artist banks on the doctor’s willingness to appease him or her. A tarnished reputation like that could follow a doctor for life. But Hallie was not most doctors. She had never let fear stop her from doing anything, and she certainly had never let anybody use fear to control her.