Critical Judgment (1996)

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Critical Judgment (1996) Page 12

by Michael Palmer


  "What about the symptoms we've been seeing?"

  "An example of what can happen when overzealous physicians use their knowledge and status to influence lay opinion about health matters. It's pure Chicken Little, instituted by Drs. Brooks and Alvarez. And believe me, Dr. Dolan, the sky is not falling. The unconnected threads they pulled together impressed people only because two charismatic physicians said they should. Stare at even the most perfect complexion long enough and close enough, and you will think you see blemishes. There is no ecological epidemic, and certainly no ecological epidemic caused by cadmium. Not one other physician in Patience has supported their position."

  Until me.

  They had reached the intersection of Abby's road with the two-lane state highway, a paved wagon trail that wound its way through the mountains, connecting southern Idaho and northern Nevada with the ocean. They stopped by a streetlight. For a minute, maybe more, the only sounds were crickets, some peepers, and the rumble of an approaching semi. Finally the truck roared past them, headed west, toward the center of town.

  "So, Mr. Quinn," Abby said as the sound died away, "you don't seem any more or less devoted to your position than the Alliance is to theirs. Exactly what is it you want me to do?"

  "I want you to put any commitment you've made to them on hold until you know all the facts. The Alliance has almost ceased to be. Nearly everyone who started with the group has seen the truth and dropped out. New blood--especially new physician blood--is essential if they're to remain in existence at all. They don't pose a serious problem to us. But believe me, Dr. Dolan, I know enough about you not to want to have you on their side."

  I know enough about you.... The implied threat again. He had used the same technique at the picnic. This time, though, he had lost the element of surprise.

  "Mr. Quinn," she responded deliberately, "what you do or do not know about me doesn't matter to me a bit. What's best for my patients does. And if you know so much about the Alliance and the meeting tonight, you should also know that I have made no commitment whatsoever to them at this point."

  "Excellent."

  "But the moment I see an elevated cadmium level in one of my patients, or any other evidence of illness caused by Colstar, I promise I will become an enthusiastic recruit in their attack on you."

  "That's certainly fair. Meanwhile, I'd like you to consider assisting us."

  "What?"

  "I'd like to hire you as a consultant to Colstar--occupational medicine and the like. The stipend would depend on how much you're called upon to do. But I promise you that along with what we--I mean what the hospital, of course--is paying for your ER work, you'll be doing quite nicely, indeed."

  "And, of course, part of the deal would be my staying away from the Alliance."

  Quinn glanced at her.

  "On the contrary," he said. "There's nothing I'd like more than to have you on a retainer while you're attending the Alliance sessions. Forewarned is forearmed."

  "You want me to spy for you?"

  Quinn didn't react to her question immediately. Instead, he walked along beside her quietly until they were nearing her home.

  "What I really want is for you to come and tour Colstar. I'll introduce you to Kelly Franklin, our environmental health and safety officer. She has detailed maps of every inch of the company. Pick an area, any area, and she'll take you there and let you inspect it as long as you like. If you see any possible way we could be contaminating any part of the environment, we'll help you call in the regulatory agency involved, and comply with any mandates. You have my word on that."

  "When do you want me to do that?"

  "Why, right now. Kelly is waiting for us in her office. It's the perfect time, because the third shift is sort of a skeleton crew, and you'll be able to move about easily."

  "Mr. Quinn, I'm not up for this tonight. And at this hour I can't believe Kelly Franklin is either."

  "Dr. Dolan, I happen to know that you had today off, and you're not on the schedule again at the hospital until the day after tomorrow. This business is very important to us. That's why Kelly is quite anxious to meet with you. And I assure you, as a trustee of the hospital and a vice president of the company Josh Wyler works for, it's very important to the two of you as well."

  Abby felt almost relieved. At last Quinn had taken off the gloves. His warning was oblique enough, but Abby had no doubt he was at least holding Josh's job hostage, if not hers as well. She would most likely be able to find ER work without much difficulty, although probably not at a place like St. John's. But Josh was another story. If she was responsible for his losing his position at Colstar, what remained of their shaky relationship would surely crumble.

  The nugget of fear inside her grew. She was hardly a threat to Quinn or Colstar, but he was setting about methodically to control her. And, yet, if Lew was right about Josh's symptoms being due to cadmium, she was far better off inside Colstar than off somewhere looking for work.

  "No promises," she said at last. "Whether I notice anything on this tour or not. No promises."

  "Of course. I knew you'd understand."

  "And if I decide I don't want this ... this consultant's position, I want Josh and me to be left alone."

  "You have my word."

  "You'll have to excuse me for not knowing how much that's worth."

  Quinn's car, a black Range Rover, was parked in front of a neighbor's house. Abby followed him up the serpentine drive to Colstar. She wondered if Ives was up on his hillside, watching them through his infrared glasses. She also wondered how long he would last up there if Lyle Quinn knew that one of his hobbies was observing the comings and goings at the plant. The uniformed guard waved them through into the massive, sparsely filled parking lot. Quinn pulled into a spot reserved for him and motioned Abby to the next one, which belonged to someone named Mr. Wang. A second uniformed guard smartly opened the front door at their approach.

  "Tight ship," Abby said.

  "I'm pleased you appreciate that."

  The plush reception area was deserted. Quinn paused long enough for Abby to take in the many community-service citations and performance-award plaques lining the walls.

  Salt of the Earth, Incorporated, she thought. Except, of course, for a security chief who lurks in the shadows to frighten women, an occasional ex-employee who stabs herself in public, and maybe, just maybe, a carelessly handled, toxic heavy metal.

  "Kelly Franklin's office is in the A Concourse, the same as your friend, Josh's. Someone told me the two of you were planning on getting engaged. I surely do hope things work out between you."

  "You seem like a very sentimental person," Abby said.

  The smooth concrete concourses, three of them, were boulevard wide and brightly lit. There was a pod of numbered white golf carts parked at the head of each one.

  "During our day and evening shifts, almost all of those carts are in action," Quinn said proudly.

  "What's your handicap?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Nothing. Nothing."

  Quinn led her down A Concourse, deserted except for an occasional worker in a knee-length lab coat. One of the golf carts rolled silently away from them for what seemed like a mile. There was another cart parked against the wall next to an opaque glass door labeled "K. Franklin, Environmental Health & Safety." Quinn knocked briskly, the sounds echoing down the vast corridor like pistol shots.

  Kelly Franklin greeted Abby professionally, but with apparent warmth. She was neither as informal as she had been at the picnic, nor as severe as in Lew's slide. Quinn completed the introductions and then left after reminding Abby that she should take as much time as she wished to explore the facility, and Kelly that Abby was to have free rein to inspect anything she wished.

  "Dr. Dolan," he concluded, "we appreciate that you're an emergency physician and not an expert on occupational health and safety. But we also know that you will be able to appreciate the precautions we at Colstar take to ensure the safety of our workers a
nd the town."

  Abby thanked him icily.

  "So," Franklin said once they were alone, "can I offer you something? Some tea? A soft drink?"

  "Nothing, thank you."

  Abby scanned the office, which evidenced a woman who had two teenage daughters, a couple of environment-related graduate degrees from Cal and Washington State, a love of the outdoors, and an extensive academic interest in her field.

  "You don't seem too thrilled to be here, Dr. Dolan," she said. "I'm sorry. Lyle has a single-mindedness about his job and his own way of doing things. And he doesn't care too much about who's inconvenienced, or who thinks he's a horse's behind, as long as he accomplishes what he sets out to."

  "Well, obviously, Quinn's goal tonight was to get me here," Abby said.

  Kelly Franklin looked genuinely embarrassed.

  "I don't think I want to know how he did it," she said. "But at least I have the chance to make this part interesting for you. I promise you, giving someone--anyone--free rein to look around Colstar is not Lyle's way. Your opinion of us must mean a great deal to him."

  "I'm not sure why."

  "Perhaps it has something to do with Josh," Kelly said. "Lyle told me you two live together. Josh is a great guy. Highly intelligent, nice, and extremely funny. He's been a very positive addition here."

  "I'm glad."

  So much for her concerns about whether Josh's erratic behavior had carried over to work. Clearly, to this point at least, she was the primary casualty.

  Kelly seemed to expect Abby to say more.

  "Well, then," she said finally, "why don't we get started?" She took a large sheaf of cardboard-bound computer-typed pages from the floor beside her desk. "Lyle told me that your chief concern regarding Colstar is cadmium. This is an extensive annotated bibliography on the toxicity of cadmium. I got it from the NIH library in Bethesda. At some point I'd like it back, but there's absolutely no rush."

  "Thank you."

  "And here's a list of the hospital patients who have had cadmium levels performed at their physicians' request. Their inpatient-discharge or emergency-room diagnoses are included. As you can see, every single one was negative. This next list is of the almost five hundred tests for cadmium, nickel, and other metals that we've done randomly on our employees. That program is ongoing and I oversee it."

  "Are the tests run at Patience Regional?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, they are. Why do you ask?"

  "Just wondered."

  "Any other questions so far? ... Fine. I have a floor plan of the entire plant on my cart. If we try to see everything, we'll be here until tomorrow afternoon. But if that's what you'd like, I'm perfectly willing to do it."

  With Kelly Franklin driving they rolled off down A Concourse as Abby studied the floor plan. The plant was built on two massive stories, one at ground level and one below. In the manufacturing wing, located on C Concourse, the basement level extended upward in part for two stories, and there was no ground floor. Most of the remainder of the basement was devoted to production. Abby chose to start with the research wing off A Concourse. Then they would tour rechargeable-battery manufacturing, the heart of cadmium use in the plant.

  Bit by bit, as she learned about Colstar, Abby also learned about her guide. Kelly Franklin was divorced, and had been when she had taken the Colstar job five years before. Her two daughters, at their father's insistence, went to private school just outside of San Francisco. Although there wasn't much of a social life in Patience for an educated single woman, Kelly managed to meet people through the Sierra Club and shipboard-based scuba trips, which she took twice a year. She was sustained in Patience by the natural beauty of the area, the excellent money she made, and the fact that she loved her job.

  As she listened to Kelly describe her life, Abby thought about herself and her own situation. If the separation with Josh became permanent, it was doubtful she'd last long in Patience alone.

  The research wing was deserted save for a security guard and one scientist. It was a huge rectangle with a central glass-enclosed atrium, which Kelly explained was for work with any toxic or potentially toxic substance. It was superventilated into a complex series of filters. The air emerging from those filters was perfectly safe to breathe.

  "We're very much aware of the toxicity of some of the substances we work with," Kelly said. "With cadmium, for instance, which is one of the more toxic, we exceed OSHA and EPA standards for air quality by a good margin."

  "That's reassuring," Abby responded with no enthusiasm.

  "Perhaps it would be really reassuring if I told you what those standards are. Essentially, the maximal acceptable ambient-air content for cadmium would be equivalent to pulverizing two aspirin tablets and blowing the dust into the air in the Astrodome."

  "That is impressive."

  Surrounding the atrium were a dozen or more individual laboratories, each featuring the sort of organized clutter Abby had come to expect in any busy research space.

  "This is Josh's unit," Kelly said. "It's the most demanding area of the business, because the competition from other manufacturers is so fierce. From what I've seen, he's standing up to the pressure pretty well."

  Look again, Abby thought as she inspected the equipment and quarters. Every inch of the vast space looked spotless and carefully maintained.

  C Concourse featured a fifteen-foot billboard that proclaimed:

  COLSTAR INT'L, PATIENCE, CA. PLANT.

  EMPLOYEE SAFETY IS OUR HIGHEST PRIORITY.

  101 DAYS WITHOUT AN ON-THE-JOB ACCIDENT.

  The manufacturing wing was as carefully maintained as research and development. All cadmium, nickel, and other toxic metals were handled by robot arms controlled by workers in mask, gloves, and jumpsuit. The huge vats in which the metals were mixed and prepared for injection into the battery casings were covered and sealed. Ventilation and air filtration were high priority.

  In spite of herself, Abby was impressed. Colstar seemed to have safety precautions built upon safety precautions.

  "I do have a couple of questions," Abby said as they glided back up the concourse. "First, do you know anything about a stream that once ran beside the plant?"

  "Of course."

  "What happened to it?"

  Kelly smiled.

  "I don't know if anyone outside the company has ever even seen this," she said. "But Lyle has given you the run of the place, so here we go."

  She drove Abby to the very rear of B Concourse and then used a key to open a large metal door. Inside was a spacious natural-rock swimming pool, complete with a corkscrew water slide and waterfall. An extravagantly created jungle paradise. The vaulted ceiling was a massive opaque skylight. One wall was clear glass, behind which was a glittering health club.

  "This space is reserved for Mr. Ezra Black and the rest of the officers. I'm part of the club, though I don't use it. They tolerate women in management here as long as we don't get in the way or try to act like men. The truth is, I'm a little embarrassed that we have such a thing at Colstar. If Josh isn't a key holder yet, he will be."

  "The pool is fed by the stream?"

  "Yes, but the water's heated to eighty-three. The excess from the stream and outflow from the pool drop down nearly fifty feet into a filtration plant located outside on the south wall of the mesa. From there it flows into the Oxbow River, which runs along the north side of the valley and empties into the quarry. The outflow water is monitored frequently for coliform bacteria and other toxins, and I test it personally every two weeks."

  An executive swimming pool! Lew and the others were going to be sharply disappointed by the solution to the case of the vanishing stream.

  "I've seen enough," Abby said, glancing at her watch. It was two-thirty. "And you must be exhausted. I appreciate the tour."

  Kelly drove them back to her office.

  "It was a pleasure to meet you," she said. "Perhaps we could go out for dinner sometime."

  "Perhaps," Abby said. Then she realized tha
t her response was unreasonably cool. Not once during the hours they had just spent together had she felt Kelly Franklin was hiding something from her. "Listen," she added suddenly. "I'd like very much to get together. I'll call you here in the next day or so and we'll set something up."

  "Terrific."

  Kelly paged Quinn, then stacked all the computer printouts together and passed them over.

  "Thanks," Abby said. "I'll cadmium myself to sleep the next few nights."

  "Have fun. Is there anything else?"

  Abby tried to think of what Lew might want her to ask. Then she remembered the shadows on the cliff face below the plant.

  "One last question," she said. "Are there any other floors beneath the basement?"

  "None at all. The basement level rests on solid rock. The filter house is the only thing below it, and as I said, that's built outside."

  "There are no openings cut into the face of the cliff on the northeast side?"

  "No. Why? Do you have reason to think there are?"

  For a few moments Abby studied the woman's expression, searching unsuccessfully for any hint of evasion.

  "No. I was just wondering," she said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Abby set aside the reading she had been doing on cadmium toxicity and packed her things for another trip up to Samuel Ives's hillside home. She recognized her anticipation at seeing the eccentric again and realized that he was one of the bright lights in the loneliness and isolation that had been engulfing her since moving up from the city.

  The early morning was cool and already bright. In an hour and a half she would be starting the day shift in the ER. With any luck the twelve hours there would be interesting and hectic enough to be totally engrossing. Her mind certainly needed a break from the outside world. It had been a week since Josh had moved out. He had come back three days ago for some things, but she'd been working at the time. All she found on the dining-room table when she returned home were a ragged bouquet of wildflowers, and a letter.

  I believe I know who is responsible for my problems, the rambling note read, in part. Once I am CERTAIN, I will act Then, and only then, will I be FREE. I PRAY that you are not one of them.

 

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