The Carpetbaggers

by Robbins, Harold

  "What they said then, Mr. Denton," the attorney had said, "is unimportant. It's what they say in court that counts. And they will say that your daughter led them on, that she asked them to go to the park with her."

  "They will have to prove that," Tom said grimly.

  "It will be harder for you to disprove it," the lawyer said. "There's two of them and only the word of your daughter. And they will have as many character witnesses for them as you will have to have for your daughter."

  "It's beginning to sound as if my daughter were on trial, not them!" Tom burst out.

  "Exactly," the lawyer nodded. "That is the way it is in these cases. The accuser stands to lose more than the accused."

  "My daughter's reputation speaks for itself," Tom said. "Father Hadley of St. Paul's and the sisters at Mercy High School will tell you of my Jennie."

  The lawyer had smiled mysteriously. "I doubt it, Mr. Denton," he said quietly. "I doubt it very much." He glanced at Jennie again, then back at Tom. "I am authorized by my clients to offer you a thousand dollars if your daughter will drop the charges against the boys."

  "I think you might as well go, Mr. O'Connor," her father had said, getting to his feet. "You cannot buy what's already been stolen."

  The attorney rose also. He took a card from his pocket and placed it on the table and walked to the door. "You can reach me at my office any time before the trial begins if you should change your mind."

  "What do we do now, Daddy?" she asked, back in the present again.

  "Father Hadley said they'd told your mother the same thing three weeks ago."

  She stared at her father. "Then she knew all along and never told us?"

  He nodded. A chill ran through her. There was something wrong with a God who would let a mother expose her own child to shame and ridicule just to save her own conscience.

  "Father Hadley also said the scholarship to St. Mary's is still open if you want it, Jennie."

  Suddenly, she began to laugh. They refused to give her a good name, yet were willing to give her charity. She couldn't reconcile the two attitudes. Was one merely to compensate for the other?

  Tom looked up at her in surprise. "What are you laughing at, Jennie?"

  Her laughter died and she looked at him, unsmiling. "Nothing, Daddy," she said. "I think you might as well give that lawyer a call."

  "Then you'll take the thousand dollars?"

  She nodded. "And the scholarship to St. Mary's, too. That way, you'll be able to live while I'm away."

  "I won't accept your money."

  "Yes, you will, Daddy," she said softly. "At least, until you find a job and get back on your feet again."

  He felt the tears rush into his eyes and suddenly he pulled her to him. "Do you love me, Jennie Bear? Do you love your poor miserable failure of a father?"

  "You know I do, Daddy," she said quickly, her head against his chest. And they clung to each other, crying, there on the steps in the quiet, cool autumn twilight.

  7

  The only sound for a moment was the slight hissing that came from the fluorescent lamps over the surgical area. Dr. Grant's hands were quick and sure as he deftly lifted the perfectly normal appendix from the heavy-set, wealthy woman lying on the operating table. His deep, masculine voice rumbled in the silence. "That will do it," he said, sighing in satisfaction. "You can close her up now, Dr. Lobb."

  He turned away from the table and one of the nurses quickly wiped the perspiration from his face as the surgical resident began to clamp the edges of the incision together.

  Jennie glanced up at Sister M. Christopher. If the senior nurse was aware that the appendix had not been infected, her dark eyes, visible over the face mask, gave no indication.

  "Suture," Dr. Lobb grunted, holding out his hand. Automatically Jennie gave it to him. Then she didn't have time to look up for a few minutes. She was too busy. But she was aware that Sister Christopher was watching her. It didn't make her nervous, as it had at first. But that was almost three years ago. Next month was graduation.

  Sister Christopher watched Jennie with approbation. This girl was one of the bright spots in her class. Perhaps one girl in a hundred had a vocation for surgery the way Jennie had. There were so many things needed and Jennie had them all. The sight of blood didn't upset her, not even the first time she'd experienced it. And Jennie was deft and sure in her actions. Quickly she'd developed an affinity between herself and the instruments, then between herself and the surgeons. Without the affinity, which permitted an unspoken form of communication between the doctor and the nurse, surgery could be dangerously delayed while instruments were fumbled back and forth.

  The final important factor was strength. No one ever quite realized how important it was for a surgical nurse to be strong. To be able to stand for hours beside the quiet white table, even though your feet hurt and your thighs and back ached from that peculiar, slightly-leaning-forward position. To be able to feed the doctor that strength and reassure him with it, so that the chain of healing formed one unbroken line. And the strength to be stoic when the chain was broken and the now forever silent patient was wheeled away; to stand there quietly and begin to scrub up again, sure that the chain would rebuild itself when a new patient was wheeled in.

  Dr. Lobb looked up and nodded. "Dressing." He held his white-gloved hand out over the neatly stitched incision.

  Jennie was ready with the gauze packing as he lifted his hand. Immediately, she covered the incision, while with her other hand, she lifted the strips of adhesive tape from the clip board at the side of the table. She pressed the tape down firmly with her fingers, checking the bandage for smoothness and support, then lifted both hands to signify she had finished.

  Sister Christopher nodded and the patient was quickly wrapped and transferred to another table by the assistants. There was a click as the fluorescents went out. The morning operating-room schedule at St. Mary's had been completed.

  "That's the fourth good appendix he's taken out this month," Jennie whispered above the gush of water into the basin. "Why does he do it?"

  The young resident laughed. "At two hundred and fifty dollars a crack, you don't fight the patients."

  "But he doesn't have to," she whispered. "He's a great surgeon. He has scarcely enough time for all he has to do."

  "Sure," Dr. Lobb whispered back. "But even great surgeons have to eat. Most of the trick cases are either for free or tough collections. So who's to blame if once in a while, he lifts a harmless appendix from some rich old hypochondriac? There's no risk in it. The doctor can pay his bills and the patient can brag about his operation."

  He straightened up, reaching for a towel. "Oh-oh," he said warningly. "Here comes the great man himself."

  Jennie took a towel from the rack and began to dry her hands. The doctor's voice came from behind her. "Miss Denton?"

  She turned around, looking at him. "Yes, Dr. Grant?"

  "I understand you're graduating next month."

  "I hope so."

  "I don't think you have anything to worry about," he said. "I was just talking to Sister Christopher. She thinks a great deal of you. And so do I."

  "Thank you."

  "Have you made any plans yet for after graduation?"

  "Not really," Jennie answered. "I'm going to take the state exam and get my name on the lists for one of the big hospitals."

  "All hospitals are pretty well staffed."

  Jennie knew what he really meant. They weren't well staffed, at all. Actually, they were all understaffed because there was no money to pay for the staff they needed. Especially those in the operating room. They were the best paid of all. "I know," she said.

  He hesitated a moment. "Are you doing anything right now?"

  "I was just going down to the cafeteria for lunch."

  "I'd like to talk to you. Sister Christopher said it would be all right if you left the hospital for lunch. How about the Steak 'n' Sauce?"

  "That sounds fine," Jennie said.

&nb
sp; "Good." He smiled. "I’ll meet you down at my car. It's the black Packard."

  "I know," she said quickly. All the nurses knew the car. It was always parked just opposite their dormitory. Outside of Dr. Gedeon's black Cadillac, it was the most expensive car at the hospital.

  "See you in fifteen minutes, then."

  Jennie walked out into the corridor and pressed the button for the elevator. The door opened and she stepped in. Dr. Lobb rushed in right after her.

  "The Steak 'n' Sauce!"

  "I wonder what he wants?" Jennie asked.

  His grin grew broader. "I know what he wants," he said lewdly. "But I didn't have any luck getting it at the Greasy Spoon."

  She returned his grin. "His luck won't be any better at the Steak 'n' Sauce."

  "I don't know." He laughed. "One of these days, you're goin' to give it up to somebody. There's no sense feeding it to the worms."

  "That will never happen," she said. Too late for that, she thought. But it didn't matter now. It was forgotten and no one here had heard about it. "I still wonder what he wants?"

  "Maybe he wants you to work for him. Ever think of that?"

  "I thought about it," she admitted. "But it doesn't make sense. Why me? He can have his pick of the best around."

  Dr. Lobb grinned but his eyes were serious. "You are the best around, honey. It's about time you realized that."

  The elevator door opened and they stepped out into the basement corridor, where the employees' cafeteria was. Jennie looked down at her white uniform. "I'd better get out of this and into a dress."

  "I'd be just as happy if you just got out of that." He laughed. "You don't have to put on a dress for me."

  She looked up at him, smiling. Someday, this young man was going to be one of the really good ones. "Maybe I’ll surprise you sometime."

  "Surprise me by bringing back a steak sandwich," he called after her. "I've about given up on the other."

  Doctor Grant held a package of cigarettes out toward her. She took one and he held a match. His eyes met hers over the flickering flame. "I suppose you're wondering why I asked you to lunch?"

  She nodded. "I was curious, to say the least."

  He smiled. "I'm sorry if I provoked your curiosity. But I really meant it when I said I like to forget about my practice during lunch. But I guess now it's time to get down to business."

  She didn't answer.

  "During the past year, Miss Denton, I’ve had an excellent opportunity to observe your work in surgery. From the very first, I was aware of your aptitude and I have always appreciated, as a surgeon, the extremely competent manner in which you render assistance."

  "Thank you, Dr. Grant."

  "As you may know, Miss Denton, I have a rather extensive and busy practice. There are many physicians who refer their patients to me for surgery. Much of this practice is of a minor nature and under proper conditions, can be attended to in my office. It relieves the patient of a considerable part of the economic burden.

  Jennie nodded silently.

  "This morning, I learned from Miss Janney, who's been associated with me for many years, that she's getting married and plans to move to Southern California." He drew on his cigarette. "When I came to the hospital today, I took the liberty of speaking to Sister Christopher about you. She agrees that you'd make an excellent replacement for Miss Janney."

  "You mean you want me to work for you?"

  He smiled. "In my roundabout manner, that is what I was about to ask. Are you interested?"

  "Of course. What girl wouldn't be?"

  "It's not an easy job, you know," he said. "I have a few beds in my clinic and very often, we'll have to work late. Occasionally, I even keep a patient overnight. At such times, you'd have to remain on duty."

  "Dr. Grant," Jennie said, smiling, "I've put in two eight-hour shifts a day with only four hours' sleep between, for the last week. Working for you will seem like a picnic."

  He smiled and reaching across the table, patted her hand reassuringly. Jennie smiled back at him. He wasn't so bad, after all, even if he did take out a few perfectly healthy appendixes. He was only the surgeon. He couldn't be responsible for the faulty diagnosis of every physician who sent him a patient.

  But that was before she went to work for him and found out that healthy appendixes weren't the only things he removed. He also had a very busy practice in unborn babies up to ten weeks after conception. As a matter of fact, he was probably the busiest abortionist in California.

  But by the time she was aware of that, it didn't matter, because she was in love with him. Nor did it matter that he was already married and had three children.

  8

  The telephone rang just as she was about to leave the tiny two-room apartment over the clinic. She went back and picked it up. "Dr. Grant's office," she said. It was an extension of the telephone in the office downstairs.

  "Jennie?" came the whisper.

  "Yes."

  "Will you be there for a while?"

  "I was just leaving to see my folks. I haven't seen them for three weeks. This is the third Sunday in a row- "

  His voice interrupted her. "I’ll see to it you have time off during the week. Please, Jennie, I've got to see you."

  She hesitated a moment and he sensed her faltering over the telephone. "Please, Jennie! I’ll go crazy if I don't see you."

  She looked across at the clock. It was already after seven o'clock. By the time she got across town, it would almost be time for her father to go to bed. He had a WPA job and had to be at work very early.

  "Oh, all right," she said quietly.

  Some of the tension left his voice. "Good, Jennie. I'll be there in twenty minutes. I love you."

  "I love you," she said and heard the click as he put down the phone. She replaced the receiver and slowly took off her coat. Carefully she put it back in the closet, walked over to the couch and sat down. She lit a cigarette thoughtfully.

  Who would have thought when she came to work here, three months ago, that he'd fall in love with her? And she with him. But then, how could she help herself? Especially when she knew what it was like for him at home. Married to a spoiled rich young woman who constantly threw up to him that it was her money that had enabled him to open his office, that it was her father's influence that had established him in the community. Married to a woman who bore him three children not out of love for him but out of an insane desire to keep him forever bound to her.

  No wonder he'd found refuge in his work and spent almost every waking moment at his practice. Now she understood what drove him. And those girls and young women who came for his surgery? And he'd explained why he did it, she understood that, too.

  She saw the inner kindness in his sensitive face as he spoke. "What am I to do, Jennie?" he'd asked. "Turn them away and let them ruin their lives because of one foolish mistake? Or let them fall into the hands of some quack who'll make them sick forever or perhaps even kill them, all because of some outworn religious code? Religious laws like that have hung on until gradually they've become dogma, just like the Jewish nonsense about kosher meat. Even our civil laws permit abortion under certain circumstances. Someday, it will be open and aboveboard, as it is in many countries throughout the world – Cuba, Denmark, Sweden, many others."

  He'd turned his deep-set brown eyes toward her. "I took an oath when I became a doctor, that I would strive to do my best for my patients, to help them in every way I could, physically and psychologically. That oath is more important than anything else to me. When some poor, frightened child comes to me for help, I can't play God and refuse her."

  It made sense to her. There were many things about the church she did not understand. She knew how they'd acted in her own case and the bitterness still rankled deep within her. If her goodness had been so important, why wouldn't they come forward to support her good name? All they really sought was power over her, not responsibility for her.

  So, gradually she'd come to recognize the women who came to
him for help and feel a compassion for them. The young matron who couldn't afford to leave her job because already she and her husband had more children than they could support; the frightened young girls, some still in school or just out; the middle-aged women just approaching the change of life, with their families already grown; even the call girls, who lived casually from day to day, yet came into the office with a haunting fear buried deep beneath their bright, brittle laughter. She had the capacity to feel sorry for them, even as he had. And from there, it was only one step to falling in love with him.

  It happened after she'd been there about a month. She was upstairs in the apartment and heard a noise in the office below. It was about eight o'clock at night. At first, she was confused, thinking that this was an office night. But then she realized it was Tuesday, and the doctor had office hours only on Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings. She turned down the flame under the coffeepot and reaching for her robe, went down to investigate.

  When she opened the door to his private office and looked in, he was seated behind his desk, his face gray and tired-looking. "I beg your pardon, Doctor. I didn't know it was you. I heard a noise- "

  He smiled wearily. "That's all right, Miss Denton."

  "Good night, Doctor," she said, starting to close the door.

  "Just a minute, Miss Denton," he said suddenly.

  She opened the door and looked at him. "Yes, Doctor?"

  He smiled again. "We've been so busy, I haven't had time to ask. Are you happy here?"

  She nodded. "Yes, Doctor. Very."

  "I'm glad."

  "You ought to be getting home, Doctor. You look exhausted."

  "Home?" he asked, a wry smile coming to his lips. "This is my home, Miss Denton. I just sleep in that other place."

  "I- I don't understand, Doctor."

  "Of course you don't," he said gently. "I wouldn't expect you to. You're much too young and beautiful to worry about the likes of me." He got to his feet. "Go back upstairs now, Miss Denton. I’ll try to be very quiet and not disturb you."