The nurse beckoned to him from the doorway, filling his mind with panic. The hour would not be up for another fifteen minutes. She said Dr. Menirez wanted to speak to him. Menirez waited in the alcove outside the Intensive Care double doors, looking out the window at the glaze of heat over the Sunday city. He was too young, Wintergarten thought. Entirely too young.
"What's wrong? Is something wrong?"
"Let's sit down. I told you this morning that she's got some big problems, but I didn't know how big. We've been keeping a close watch on her, evaluating the damage. When she was brought in, Dr. Hendrin in Emergency diagnosed primary brain stem injury, and I confirmed his diagnosis. We had coma, stertorous breathing, pinpoint pupils, quadrispasticity, all of which could have come from inter cranial bleeding, but there was no raised inter cranial pressure, so no point in going in to find or stop any bleeding. Okay? Are you following me?"
"I think so."
"We know now that she suffered some thoracic damage, damage to the chest, and we've been getting edema, hypoxia, unstable circulation and a fluttery heartbeat. We took a brain wave pattern a few minutes ago. It isn't entirely flat, but it's getting there. I'm sorry, but we have a really lousy prognosis here. She was just too badly damaged. I'm really sorry. I don't think there's anything we could have done or could do to save her."
"She's dying!"
"That's right. She's going whether we keep her hooked up to the equipment or not."
"Oh Jesus. Oh God. Oh Molly honey."
He leaned over and put his forehead against the cold metal of the right-hand arm of the chair. The young doctor put his hand on his shoulder.
"You could come in and hold her hand. It won't be long."
They had drawn the curtains around the bed. Her hand was slack. Half her face was a swollen purple bruise. A tube was fastened to her throat somehow, and it pumped air into and out of her. The eye that wasn't swollen shut was half open and all he could see was the white. There was no particular moment when it happened. He suddenly realized her hand was cooling off. He called the nurse and she came and listened for a heartbeat and told him he should go. He walked out through a blear of tears and when he was halfway down the long corridor toward the elevators, he remembered to keep his head up and square his shoulders and walk briskly. And then he remembered he did not have to do that anymore.
He saw his sister come out of the elevator. He had not seen her since the wedding. It startled him to see how old she looked. He hurried to her and put his arms around her and sobbed once and said, "She's gone, Allie. She's gone."
The sister held him and patted him.
"There there," she said.
"There there. Rolf? The taxi charged me eighteen dollars to come in from the airport! Can you imagine?"
2-59 Sixteen Finn Efflander was mildly surprised when John Tinker Meadows delayed their usual Sunday discussion until Monday, and then suggested they meet in the old man's office on the fourth floor of the Manse. It was as if he had anticipated the bad news Efflander was bearing, and thought to armor himself with the old man's aura.
When Finn knocked and went in, John Tinker was sitting in the big black leather armchair behind the big slate-top desk, surrounded by all the talismans of the old man's past victories.
He was wearing a pale blue terry bathrobe and old sandals. It was ten in the morning. His hair was uncombed and there was a visible shadow of beard on his cheeks and jaw.
"Sit down, old friend," John Tinker said.
"I have been sitting here for four hours. Not all the time. I've roamed around, but mostly I've been sitting and thinking. Where are we going?
What have we been doing right? And wrong? Making lists, I guess."
The long view?"
"Right. Anything I should know in the routine reports?"
Finn opened his folder on the desk.
"No report from Rolf, of course, but his assistant, Jorgland, reports progress. Occupancy up, rentals up, traffic up. He says Wintergarten wants to discuss additional motel space with Harold Sherman. Ben Harvey reported on Lakemore Construction. The thirty houses in Section F of the Settlements are nearly done and all spoken for, and he has begun foundation work on G and H. Then he reports, wearing his other hat, Chairman of the Board at the bank, that the maintenance people did not keep the big pipes clear that lead through the wall around the flat roof of the bank. So they were blocked and a big tonnage of water accumulated, which broke down one corner of the roof and flooded through all the way down to ground level. He's getting the damage looked at and an estimate of what it will cost to repair structural damage. Charley is researching the insurance coverage.
"Because of our housing shortage here, I asked Walker McGaw to ease up on the radio promotion of the Settlements for a while. The radio coverage is on a twenty-four-hour basis and they have added two more languages to cassette distribution. The television transmissions are seen now in two hundred and thirty-one national markets. Spencer McKay on television production and McGaw on radio are both enthusiastic about the market survey technique Joe Deets worked out, relating specific test programs to response in selected areas. McKay calls it a wonderful device for fine-tuning the program content.
"Security had nothing to report, and neither did Maintenance and Grounds. Our University president, Dr. Hallowell, says that they have accepted a hundred and forty applications for the freshman class. It will include three Vietnamese and two blacks.
"Jenny Albritton did a good job with the editing of the interview you gave regarding the Owen murder, and it has been played at least three times over every television outlet. She appreciates the way McGaw and McKay worked with her on it. She also reported that she has all her ducks in a row for the arrival of Mr. Williamson, one of the new Founders of the Society of Merit. He and his family will get very special attention.
"Joe Deets reports receipts up five-point-two percent for the year ending August fifteenth, compared to the previous year.
And the ratio of all expenses to all income from all sources is down by eight tenths of a percent. I have no report from Walter Macy."
"None at all?"
"He promised it and then he said he had been too busy. Too many things had piled up. He said he would get around to it."
"Did he know you wanted it for our weekly meeting?"
"Yes, he did. He seemed very upset about Molly Wintergarten."
"Everyone is upset, of course. Would he have had anything special to report, as far as you know?"
"I don't think so. He just seemed nervous and irritable and confused."
"Go ahead, then. Anything from my sister?"
"She wants to set up a music scholarship so she can attract some better voices for the choir. She's very anxious that everyone try very hard to show the Reverend Tom Daniel Birdy how happy we'd all be to have him here. And she suggests heavier concentration on our mission effort in Guatemala and Peru. That's about it."
"Which brings us down to your special little chores, Finn," John Tinker said.
"Which one first?"
"The media coverage of the Owen murder."
That's softening up fast. They're leaving. I've talked to Coombs and Dockerty, and I've checked it out with Rick Liddy checked what the officials told me and the general feeling is that nobody is ever going to find out who killed her.
Too much time has passed. To keep a story going you need little additives. Even that magazine, Out Front, called their girl back to New York. The husband is waiting for them to release the body for cremation, and then he'll leave."
"Why are they keeping it?"
"Chemical analysis. They might want to do more."
"How about accreditation?"
"All the colleges with a religious orientation have come in except two, and I have promises from them. So we're looking for the right names with lots of degrees. I've suggested we set up the office in Cambridge. Borrow some respectability from proximity."
"How about the medical complex?"
; "We have some problems there."
"Like what?"
"It's difficult for me to explain."
"You better give it your best shot, Efflander."
Finn sighed.
"I guess we got off on the wrong foot in the beginning, John. Somehow I've given you the feeling that you can alarm me, personally. Okay, you've detected alarm, but it is just alarm about what might happen to the things I've built around here, the administrative structures, the personnel structures. So when you threaten me and say, "You better give it your best shot, Efflander," in that harsh tone of voice, all I want to do is try to keep you from meddling in the structure, in the lines of authority and responsibility."
"Why should my meddling, as you call it, alarm you?"
"I've spent six years creating something that works. It works in spite of all the reasons it shouldn't work. I don't expect you to be able to understand how delicate that structure can be if you push it in the wrong direction. I've seen a new CEO come into a fairly healthy company and drive it into the ground in eighteen months. I have a lot of loyalty to what I've built."
"And no loyalty to me?"
Finn smiled.
"I do what you tell me to do as best I can."
"And it ends up being done your way."
"Sometimes, John."
John Tinker Meadows sat silently for thirty seconds. Finn could hear the huff of the air vent, a subsonic rumble of compressors, the clatter of elevator doors.
Finally John Tinker said, "So I am not as subtle and wise and all-perceiving as you are when it comes to managing all the little departments and compartments of this place. But I have one damn good idea of direction. I set policy."
"That is quite correct. I carry out the policy you set. And now I have some problems carrying out the policy you decided on for this medical complex. The problem is personnel."
"Why should it be a problem when we have the money to hire the very best? And what a temptation it could be for a good man to be in on it from the beginning."
"In a sense," Finn said, "I anticipated what the problem would be. The land is no problem. We can pick up three thousand acres northwest of here, between our rear line and the Interstate cloverleaf, for two million two. Or the same acreage ten miles south of here for one million seven. Money isn't a problem, according to Joe. He can earmark two hundred million and keep it in securities we can get out of very readily. Both of these would be clean deals. No kickback charitable donations. No overpricing. No planning and zoning problems at all."
"I can't see the point in setting up ten miles from here."
"Let me work around to that," Finn said. The whole thing is one hell of an idea. A teaching hospital, medical school, hotel for outpatients, nursing school, campus, dormitories, nursing homes, therapy center, all focusing on the problems of aging. It is a fantastic fit with what you have here. It makes good sense.
However."
"However what?"
Finn took a typed letter from the folder on the desk.
"I want to read this to you. You remember I told you that in searching for staff I wanted to use an old friend with an executive search group in New York. He's been working on this for six, nearly seven months. Here's what he has to say:
' "Dear Finn, It seems to be time to play a little showdown and time for me to stop kidding you. As you outlined it, it is a dream project. And, as you told me, Doctor Meadows charged you with bringing in absolutely top people for interviews down there.
' "So we have been going after the best. Nose to nose, because phones and letters are no good for this kind of project.
The key man, of course, is the medic who would head up the medical school, research wing, teaching aspects of the hospital, etc. Ideally, because this is long-range, we'd hope to find a man in his forties or very early fifties, with good tickets, good track record, well known, an administrator and a persuader as well as a top scientist, the kind of man whose name connected with anything has given it a cachet of both dignity and success in the past and will continue so to do.
' "Here is what has happened. Without naming names, we identified and isolated six men who have the characteristics you people seek. I can tell you that on the basis of the bare outline to be in charge of a huge geriatric medical center and be in on it from the ground-breaking ceremonies, and not have to get involved in fund raising, at least for many years to come these dudes really salivated, Finn. I saw each one of them personally.
' "They kept on salivating right up to the point where I told them that this was being promoted and financed by the Eternal Church of the Believer. That's when things got frosty. When they said they would consider it, I knew they meant no way.
' "Old buddy, you are not going to attract top talent for that project. I'm sorry. You are dealing here with dedicated and intellectual people. These sects, these electronic ministries, give far too strong a suggestion of trading on ignorance, fear, bigotry.. , you name it. If it isn't in the Book, it ain't so.
Believe, or you'll plain go to hell. Evolution is only a theory, they say. The six men I dealt with know that evolution is a fact.
They know about the fossil sea creatures atop Everest, about ferns captured in stone two billion years ago. Every surgeon who has dissected the body of a human being has seen the faint traces in the throat structure of what were once gills a few million years ago, before we came up out of the sea. These men know that the Holy Bible is a great document, that the teachings of Christ are eternal, as are the teachings of Buddha and Mohammed. But they also know that it has been translated and retranslated so many times, many portions of it are so vague and muddy that unscrupulous men can interpret it in any way that suits their ambitions of the moment.
' "These are the top people, Finn, and they cannot afford to compromise their reputations and their futures by becoming entangled with those Meadows people and their anti intellectual message. They are too wary of some of the precepts of that particular sect coming in conflict with sound medical practice. They do not wish to endanger the peer respect and confidence they now have. You and I know that almost a quarter of the people in this great nation can't read or write.
That gives men like the Meadows great scope to use fear, superstition and false hope as their leverage. If you can lower your sights and go second class, I can find you some imposing hacks who will jump at the chance. But your geriatric medical complex will never be first class under their guidance.
' "I followed through on your suggestion of re contacting them on the basis that the complex would be located at least ten miles from Meadows Center, and would not have Eternal or Believer or Meadows in the name. But they said that made no difference in their decision. They wanted no part of it.
Sorry, fella. Let me know what you want me to try next." ' John Tinker held his hand out.
"Let me see that!"
Finn handed it to him. He read it, frowning, handed it back and said, "This Jew Commie bastard heretic is a close friend of yours?"
"Willis has been a good friend for a long time. I've never had any occasion to wonder about his politics or his religion."
They're cute, you know. They develop wonderful cover stories."
"Cover story or not, you can depend on him to tell the truth, to give you the facts, regardless of how they might hurt. You realize that he could have tried to ring in a hack by puffing up his reputation. When I was thinking of taking the offer here, Willis advised against it."
z65 "Did he, now?"
"I came here because it was a challenge. And I have no standing in the scientific community to protect. I had never seen or heard of any organization in such a dynamic state of growth that was so totally devoid of controls, of any administrative know-how."
"And because the money was very good. Don't forget the money, Finn."
"You never believe me when I say it just isn't all that important to me. I like being paid what I am worth, and I enjoy living well, but I came with you people because I'm neat. I hate all unneces
sary confusion. And I wondered if it was possible to create order out of total chaos merely by managing the people properly."
"Not exactly chaos."
"John, take my word for it. You do not have the background to be able to see just how bad it was, just how many simultaneous disasters this operation was heading for."
"Funny what a different impression I have, Finn. We were getting along. We had loyal and devoted people working for us. The contributions were flowing in. My father was building the Church tall and strong. Neither of us had time for all the little details, so we went out and bought us a man who could take that burden off our shoulders. I can't recall any threats of chaos."
John D MacDonald - One More Sunday Page 32