by Larry Karp
“You do know Ms. Wanego doesn’t work in Reproductive Genetics any more?”
I watched Rapp closely, but saw no sign of nerves, or even concern. Satisfaction, yes, and a little amusement. “Yeah, I know. I figured Wanego’s this missing person you’re looking for. ‘Bout a month after she socked it to me, I heard it around that she walked out on her job and never came back, and nobody was sounding broken up about it. Maybe she made a mistake and took on somebody got more clout than a janitor. I sure hope so, the bitch. I just wish I was around to see it when she got hers.”
***
Not all the people who say they like surprises really do. They’d rather think they’re in control. But surprise was Sanford’s game. He had to prove over and over how much cooler he was in an emergency than anyone else. He was good, no argument, but all I’d done so far was pitch him batting practice. Now I was warmed up. Time to see what he’d do with some nasty curves, sliders down and away, high heat under the chin. I figured Joyce Kennett was my best bet for a setup pitch.
***
I drove the car out of the hospital garage, up to Sunset Bluff, across Seventy-first Street, and parked in front of the Kennett house. Ms. Kennett’s mother opened the door. I gave her a nice smile. “Hello, Ms. Enright.”
“That’s Mrs. Enright. I’m not one of those women’s lib people.”
Like I’d propositioned her. “Mrs. Enright.”
She was starting to look like caring for a new mother and a newborn baby was wearing on her. That nest of gray hair hadn’t had a meeting with a comb or a brush any time recently, and her face said whatever I was selling, she was not interested. “I hope you’re not going to bother my daughter again, Mr. Baumgartner.”
From somewhere in back, I heard the baby crying. “I’m afraid I am,” I said, gently as I could. “Something new has come up, and I need a few minutes of her time.”
“Joyce is very tired,” she barked into my face. “Men think taking care of a baby is no big deal.”
I stepped past her, into the living room. “I don’t know about ‘men,’ but I do know looking after a newborn baby is no walk in the park. I’ll make it as short and easy for your daughter as possible.”
She made a noise like an engine shutting down, then closed the door and turned away. “I’ll go get Joyce.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Enright.”
As the women came back into the room, the baby in Joyce Kennett’s arms let out a top-decibel howl. Ms. Kennett glanced at her mother. “Would you mind taking Robbie?”
Easy to see the old woman didn’t want to miss the show. “Will you be all right, dear?”
“Please, Ma. I’m sure the detective won’t hurt me. Take Robbie back and see if you can calm him down.”
Mrs. Enright took the baby, turned like a soldier and marched off. Ms. Kennett motioned me to a faded red armchair. “Would you like to sit?” She pulled a little maple rocker up beside me.
As we settled in, I said, “Nice-looking baby.”
“Sometimes more than others. What can I do for you, Mr. Baumgartner?”
“I’m sorry to bother you again so soon, but a couple of new things have come up. You told me yesterday that Dr. Sanford got Dr. Hearn to do a new procedure on your husband’s sperm, then used that sperm sample to inseminate you. Right?”
She nodded automatically.
“And he did that insemination where?”
“In his office, three days after he broke up my adhesions. Dr. Hearn brought the treated sperm over, and Dr. Sanford inseminated me.”
“Then your husband would have met Dr. Hearn, at the procedure.”
“Actually, he didn’t. James never liked to come into the examining room, he said it made him uncomfortable. So he waited outside. It was just the two doctors, the office nurse, and me.”
I took in a quick breath. “Those eggs Dr. Sanford took from you during your laparoscopy? What did he do with them?”
She answered way too fast. “He didn’t take eggs…I mean, why would he do that? I needed them to conceive at the insemination.”
“That’s why I’m asking,” I said. “It doesn’t sound logical. Was Dr. Hearn in the operating room?”
“Not that I saw. But—”
I waved off the rest of her answer. “Right. You were under anesthesia. Asleep.”
“Yes. But I can’t imagine why she would have been there, and I never heard anything about him taking my eggs. Did he tell you he did?”
“It was in the operating-room records,” I said. “Now, one other thing. There was an accident in that lab at the time Dr. Hearn and Dr. Sanford were working on your case. Something about a laboratory container that Dr. Hearn dropped on the floor. She was really upset, and called Dr. Sanford to come right over. Did you hear anything about that?”
She shook her head emphatically. “Dr. Sanford never said anything about an accident.”
But now, he’ll have to, won’t he? I thanked Ms. Kennett for her time, and left.
Chapter Fourteen
Sanford
I was in the examining room with a patient when Lettie, the receptionist, called to tell me Joyce Kennett was on the phone, and it was urgent. I excused myself, ran into my consultation room, picked up the receiver, and made an instant diagnosis of acute freakout. “That police detective was just here again.”
“Baumgartner?”
“Yes. He said he knows you took eggs out of my ovaries at the laparoscopy.”
“Did he say how he knew, or why he was interested in it?”
“He said it was in the hospital records, and no, he didn’t say why he was interested. But he asked me if I knew why you took the eggs.”
“And you said?”
“That I had no idea why you’d take my eggs because I’d need them to be inseminated. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not.”
“Perfect, Joyce. If he comes back again, make sure you stick to the same story. I gave you hormones to make you ovulate at the right time, did the laparoscopy and cut away scar tissue, then James gave a sperm sample to Dr. Hearn. Dr. Hearn treated the sample, I inseminated you with it, you got pregnant, end of story.”
“But there’s more.” Her voice shook. “He said right about that time, there was some kind of lab accident where Dr. Hearn dropped a container and called you to come right over. That didn’t have anything to do with James and me, did it?”
“Bah.” I chuckled into the phone. “No, absolutely not. Dr. Hearn was a perfectionist, which is what you want in someone doing that line of work. She dropped one of our experiments, and you’d have thought the world was coming to an end. I told her it was too bad, but accidents are going to happen, and fortunately, this one wouldn’t hurt anyone. That’s all.”
“Dr. Sanford…”
I waited.
“Why is Baumgartner bugging me like this? Two days in a row now.”
“Probably what a cop has to do. If he doesn’t file enough paperwork, they’ll think he’s goofing off.”
“I’m afraid he’s going to louse up our plan. Money was tight enough when James was working, but—”
“Joyce, hold on. We can’t let Baumgartner stampede us. He got wind of the press conference, and I stonewalled him, so there’s no way we can go ahead right now. Let a little time pass, he’ll move along to another investigation, and then if he gets sore when we announce, I can tell him I had to lie about the conference to protect your privacy before you were ready to handle the publicity. At that point, he’s not going to reopen the case. He’d look like an idiot. But if we make the announcement tomorrow, I’ve got zero wiggle room.”
For answer, I got a soft crying jag, then, “Okay…I guess you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. With all you’ve got to deal with right now, if you w
eren’t nervous and a little irritable, you wouldn’t be human. Relax and let me handle things. If Baumgartner comes back, all you need to do is make sure you don’t change anything about what you’ve told him. I can handle a palooka like him in my sleep.”
Loud snuffle at the other end. “Thanks, Dr. Sanford.”
“That’s what I’m here for. Talk to you later.”
***
An hour or so after Joyce’s call, I was examining my next-to-last patient for the day when Barbara knocked at the door, then pulled me into the hall. She had a bad case of the fidgets. “That police detective is out front. He wants to talk to you again.”
“Fine. Tell him I have to finish up with two patients, and he can either wait or come back in half an hour.”
“But he says he wants to see you right now. What should I say if he insists?”
“I don’t think he’ll insist. Whatever’s on his mind, I can’t imagine it won’t wait a half-hour. People say doctors like to play God, but we’re nothing compared to cops. If he does insist, though, come get me, and I’ll deal with him.”
She smiled. “You really are cool, Dr. Sanford. In every sense of the word.”
***
When I went out to the waiting room, I found Baumgartner stretched across one of the padded double seats, head back against the chromed armrest. “Mr. Baumgartner.” I put out a hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
He sat up slowly. “I’m sorry to keep bugging you, but I’ve got a few more questions.”
I shrugged. “I’m done for the day. Whatever you need.”
Back in my office, in my desk chair, I waited until he opened his mouth to speak, then cut him off at the pass. “I’ve remembered something you asked about yesterday. I actually did retrieve eggs from Joyce Kennett’s ovaries. Those hormones did such a good job of stimulating egg growth, there were far more ripe oocytes than we’d ever need for her insemination with the treated sperm. As I recall, I counted twelve or thirteen. So I retrieved a couple for Dr. Hearn, for her experiments.”
Baumgartner made an “umph” sound, and worked his lips side to side. “Was it okay with Ms. Kennett? She doesn’t seem to know you removed any eggs for experimentation.”
I pretended to think for a bit, then said, “No…damn. I think you’ve got me there. She was already asleep when I decided to take the ova, and afterward, it didn’t occur to me to mention it to her. That’s how important it seemed, a couple of extra eggs, so what? My focus was on the eggs left inside, to get at least one of them fertilized.”
“But how could you have done a retrieval without having the equipment ready in the room?”
“Fair question. When I saw the state of the ovaries, I told the circulating nurse to call Dr. Hearn and see if she was free to come over. She was, so I asked the nurse to bring in the retrieval equipment. By the time I was through cutting adhesions, the equipment was there, and by the time I’d retrieved the ova, Dr. Hearn was all set to take them away. But you’re right, Mr. Baumgartner, I should have told Ms. Kennett afterward. I’ll speak to her this evening, and explain. It was a lapse, and it shouldn’t have happened. But is it a matter for police investigation?”
Baumgartner gave me a goofy little smile. “Sometimes we’ve got to cast a wide net. Bear with me. Aren’t there usually copies of operative reports in office charts? To help doctors remember details of cases?”
“Well, yes. Of course.”
“But all I saw in Ms. Kennett’s chart was a short handwritten note.”
“Better that than nothing. I always put a short note in the chart to at least remind me that there was a procedure. Frankly, our hospital’s transcription department leaves a good deal to be desired. I dictate every surgery right after the case, but sometimes the dictations don’t get through to the transcribers, or so they say. Or copies of the transcriptions don’t get made or don’t get sent to my office. My staff doesn’t have time to follow up on every operation I do, and make sure we have the official dictated note. When we need to look at one and it’s not there, we go to the record room and get a copy.” I gave him a grin guaranteed to make his stomach churn. “As I guess you did.”
Baumgartner picked a pencil off the edge of my desk, jabbed the point absent-mindedly in my direction. “Those eggs you remember now that you gave to Dr. Hearn—were they part of the experiment she dropped on the floor? You do remember that spilled experiment, don’t you? The one where you had to run over to calm her down?”
“Yes, I remember it,” I said. “But I can’t say which experiment it was because she didn’t tell me. Just said she botched one.”
“But it was right about the time Ms. Kennett had her procedure.”
I shrugged. “I think you’re right, but I’m not sure. Sorry.”
Baumgartner tilted back in his chair, rocked a couple of times, then came forward again. “Dr. Hearn’s experimental tissue cultures were done in petri dishes, right?”
I nodded. “As far as I know.”
“But what she dropped wasn’t a petri dish. It was a glass tube. What would’ve been in a glass tube?”
“Well…anything, I guess. Culture medium—”
He looked as if he’d sat the wrong way on a hemorrhoid. “Come on, Dr. Sanford. We’re not talking about a kid and her home chemistry set. Could there have been eggs in that tube?”
“I don’t think so. Dr. Hearn always took the oocytes I gave her and put them right into a petri dish. I don’t think she ever put eggs into glass tubes, but I can’t say for sure.”
“How about what she used to fertilize the eggs? Did sperm samples go into glass tubes?”
“Well…right. Yes, they would. Part of any sperm preparation for insemination, from ordinary washing to Density Gradient Separation, involves centrifugation, and that’s done in a glass tube. You’ve got to separate the liquid semen from the sperm cells. All right?”
“Yep. Was that broken tube for a Density Gradient Separation?”
“Not as far as I know. All Dr. Hearn said was that she’d botched an experiment.”
“Where did the sperm for those experimental runs come from?”
“I’ve told you. Medical students. I paid them fifty bucks a pop. But I can’t show you records. No student would ever have donated if I’d kept records.”
Baumgartner whistled. “Fifty bucks a pop, huh? And the money came from…?”
“My wallet.”
He did a dandy Eddie Cantor impersonation, pop-eyes and open mouth. “You paid fifty dollars every time Dr. Hearn did an experiment? Out of the goodness of your heart?”
“Not to be crass, Mr. Baumgartner, but I do well in my practice, and PhD scientists don’t have that kind of resource.”
“Unless they have a grant, which Dr. Hearn wouldn’t have had for that work, since she was doing it on the QT.”
“You’ve got it.”
“But I still have to think that was awfully generous of you. How many times did you pay a student fifty dollars? You don’t have to answer, I’ve got the records. You attempted fifty-five retrievals, and got eggs in forty-one. That comes out to more than two thousand dollars. Which, even for a doctor with a practice as hefty as yours, is not exactly pocket change. You can understand, can’t you, why I might want to know what was the quo you got for that quid?”
“I can only tell you if you can understand payment doesn’t necessarily need to be in the coin of the realm. If I’d donated that money to the Red Cross, the American Cancer Society, or the Emerald Public Library, you wouldn’t have thought even once about it. Dr. Hearn was trying to do important work in my field, but was being held back by a chairman with a medieval attitude. And by collaborating with Dr. Hearn, I could let my patients know they’d get the best possible care from a practicing doctor who was also involved firsthand in front-line University research. All
right?”
Baumgartner sat and stared. I gave him about a half-minute, then spread my palms. “What’s your next question?”
He pushed himself out of the chair as if he’d suddenly and unexpectedly put on a hundred pounds. “That’s all for now, Doctor. Thanks for your time.”
As I’d done at his first visit, I walked him out of the office, down the hall, and saw him onto the elevator. Then, I went back inside, picked up the phone, started to punch in Joyce Kennett’s number, but halfway through, I lowered the receiver. Better to go see her in person. Make sure she wouldn’t lose her nerve, and do or say something to blow our boat out of the water. And if Baumgartner followed me, I could tell him I was going to talk to Ms. Kennett, to make amends for having forgotten to tell her I’d retrieved a couple of her oocytes for experimentation.
Chapter Fifteen
Baumgartner
Just after six when Katie Corrigan opened her door to my knock. She looked tired. “Hard day at work?”
“Nah, not really. More booze and less sleep than I should’ve had last night. What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been wondering why it was you didn’t like Laurie Mansell.”
Katie seemed to take a moment to register the question, then blew a raspberry and dismissed Mansell with a wave of her hand. “Snooty little muff. She’d come here sometimes with Alma when they didn’t think I’d be around. Pretending they were just good friends from the lab. Alma didn’t have any trouble carrying it off, but Laurie was a riot, trying to act like a chilled-up penguin, and coming off like a cat in heat. It was fun to play along, just sit there like nothing was happening, till Laurie finally had to go home to her husband with her thighs all wet.”