A Simple Cure

Home > Other > A Simple Cure > Page 21
A Simple Cure Page 21

by Lawrence Gold


  “No, the ER doc said that we should wait for you.”

  Terri ordered a dose of Haldol, an antipsychotic medication and they watched Becky as she gradually calmed.

  Terri held Becky’s arm. “Do you know me?”

  Becky’s eyes wandered then gradually became fixed on Terri.

  “Dr. Powell. Is it you?”

  “Yes, Becky. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t sleep. I’m tired, but I can’t sleep. Then I began seeing things... horrible things and heard the voices calling me.”

  “What did they say?”

  Becky stared at Terri. She started to speak, but her arms began to jump. These were muscle contractions that Terri recognized as myoclonic jerks, involuntary muscle movements common in many neurologic diseases.

  Becky stared at her arms in disbelief. “These started last week, and they’re getting worse.”

  “The voices, you were saying...”

  “I couldn’t understand a word they said.”

  “You’ve lost so much weight.”

  “I can’t eat.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I have an appointment for next week.”

  “I’m admitting you to the hospital.”

  “Just give me something for sleep...anything. I can’t stand this.”

  “Let’s run some tests first, and then we’ll try to get you some sleep.”

  When Terri climbed back into bed at 4 a.m., Matt groaned. “What was that all about?”

  “It’s Becky Norton. I admitted her with an unusual neuropsychiatric syndrome and profound insomnia. I’m working her up.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “I don’t know if it’s an independent problem or if it’s somehow related to her melanoma, and/or its treatment. I’ll get a neurologist and a psychiatrist to see her, and maybe present her on academic rounds.”

  The next morning, Becky sat in the chair staring in horror as her arms and legs moved and jerked as if a puppeteer were pulling her strings. Like most people, she’d had an occasional involuntary jerk or tick of a muscle, but these movements involved the entire extremity and came each time as a surprise. She tightened her muscles, held one hand with the other, and crossed her legs, but the movement continued. She recalled a TV special on Parkinson’s Disease where an elderly man screamed, cursed, and beat his hand as it twisted and writhed out of his control.

  Stop it...stop it, her mind screamed.

  “Maybe if I move, it’ll stop,” Becky said to Judith, her mother, as she rose.

  “Be careful, sweetheart,” Judith said, holding Becky’s arm.

  Becky took three smooth, coordinated steps and smiled. With her fourth, her right leg jumped as she was about to place it on the floor and she fell to her right.

  “It’s okay,” Judith said, “I have you.”

  When Becky tried to grasp her mother’s shoulder for support, her arm flailed out, striking Judith on the side of her neck.

  “I’m so sorry, Mommy. I couldn’t help it.”

  “It’s okay. Let’s get you back in the chair.”

  As Judith turned Becky toward the chair, the nurse entered. “What are you doing? It’s not safe. You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “I’m fine,” Becky said, holding on to her mother. “Just a few steps more.”

  The nurse rushed to their side just as Becky’s leg again jerked and she fell, this time to the left and hit her forehead on the bedside table. Blood spurted over Becky’s face and dripped on the floor.

  After they pulled Becky into bed, the nurse checked her forehead. “You’re going to need a few stitches. I’ll call Dr. Powell.”

  The phone rang again at 9 a.m. Terri had overslept.

  It was Jerry Calder, her supervisor. “Hi, Terri. It’s Jerry. Can I see you in my office this morning?”

  “Sure. I was at S.F. General most of the night admitting one of our study patients. I’ll be there in ninety minutes after I put in a few stitches on my patient. Want to give me some idea what it’s about?”

  “I’ll see you about 10:30.”

  What’s this all about? she thought.

  “What were you thinking?” Terri asked, as she placed five stitches just above Becky’s left eyebrow.

  “I thought I could walk—at least a few feet, you know, like a normal person. I guess I can’t even do that.”

  “Don’t,” Terri said. “We’ll work this out.”

  “Will you?” Becky asked.

  Terri thought she saw a black Lexus several times as she drove toward Mission Bay. She made a few turns and didn’t see it again.

  Don’t keep doing this to yourself, she thought.

  When she arrived at Jerry’s office, he invited her in at once. Absent the usual trivialities, he began. “Terri, Kendall Pharmaceuticals has lodged formal complaints against you.”

  Terri paled. “What kind of complaints?”

  “They asked that we remove you from the Phase I BCG study.”

  “That’s ridiculous. This is my project. Start to finish, that project is my life. What are they talking about? And by the way, who are ‘they’? Don’t tell me it’s Karl Muller.”

  “It’s Muller and Richard Kendall. Specifically, they accuse you of unauthorized transfer of BCG to Laval Laboratories and failure to follow the approved research protocol by admitting an extra patient into the study. Is there any truth to these allegations?”

  “This is bullshit, Jerry. Kendall Laboratories is after me for questioning their methods and for refusing to tolerate Karl Muller. The man physically assaulted me and Evan Klack. He may have something to do with the death of Lisa Gomez, although I can’t prove it.”

  “You still haven’t answered my questions?”

  “Yes, I did transfer BCG material to Laval. Henri Charles is concerned with problems with BCG of our variety and asked for a sample for testing. I thought that we should cooperate as we have patients in clinical trial. Whose ethical standards do you hold me to, Jerry, the university’s or Kendall’s?”

  “What about that extra patient?”

  “Mea culpa...mea culpa. I did take Jennifer Howe into the program. She’s an old friend who’d exhausted every available standard and experimental treatment protocol. We were showing some remarkable results then, as we are now, so I just couldn’t turn her away. If you’ll check, you’ll find all her testing and clinic visits were billed to my account. Her participation in no way compromises the Phase I trial. It just adds another patient.”

  “I’m on your side, Terri,” Jerry said. “What do you think I should do?”

  “Kendall is using this as an excuse to eliminate a critic. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if they made a specific recommendation of someone to replace me.”

  Jerry smiled. “They have.”

  Terri laughed. “This is the kind of high-handed shit they get away with in order to grease the way for their research drugs. Here’s what I’d recommend: Write a reprimand for my file on the Jennifer Howe situation. I won’t apologize for sending the BCG to Laval. I think that was ethical and responsible, and to hell with Kendall. One more thing about Kendall Laboratories, Jerry. This is all a bluff. They’re so anxious to get the BCG vaccine approved that they won’t push this any further. The last thing they want is to slow the study. I’ll bet that you’ll discover that they’re well into the Fast-Track approval process.”

  “They are. They needed the university’s approval and I gave it.”

  “I’m sorry that you got in the middle of this whole thing,” Terri said. “We never had lessons on the complications of working with bottom-line companies like Kendall.”

  “I’ll deal with this,” Jerry said. “Just one thing, give me heads up when you near or cross another line, Terri,” he paused, “I can help if I know what you’re up to in advance.”

  Terri smiled. “Deal.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Richard Kendall leaned back in his Herman Miller Executive Aeron desk cha
ir while talking with Lionel, his father, on the phone. “This vaccine is incredible, Dad. I think we should proceed with trials in other cancers.”

  “The board of directors is ready with an open checkbook.”

  “Where are we with FDA approval?”

  “All we need to do is complete the study and present the data to the FDA. The results are so fantastic, they won’t have a choice, but to grant us Fast-Track approval.”

  Just as he hung up, Richard’s secretary knocked and entered. “I have Mr. Brooks on the line.”

  “I hope you have something for me, Mr. Brooks,” Richard said.

  “May I talk frankly, sir?” he said in matter-of-fact tones.

  “Yes, this is a secure line.”

  “Mr. Muller is about to eliminate your problem with Dr. Powell. If this is your intention, sir, no problem.”

  “We’re doing all we can to have her removed from her position or at least control her, but we cannot have anything happen to her now. That would delay the clinical trial and set us back on getting the vaccine approved.”

  “I’d suggest that you need to talk with Mr. Muller before it’s too late.”

  “I’ll get right on it. Thank you, Mr. Brooks.” Richard paused. “How’s your lovely wife? I never did thank her for her assistance in Quebec.”

  “She’s fine, sir, and you did thank her in a most generous way.”

  “Give her my regards, and please continue your surveillance.”

  Terri left San Francisco General at 6 p.m. and joined the bumper-to-bumper eastbound traffic on the Bay Bridge. When she finally reached the Piedmont exit, she took a deep breath and turned off the radio for some blessed silence. When she turned into the access road up the hill to her house, a car was parked in the middle of the street with a blue flashing light on its roof. A large man with a flashlight approached, but the backlighting made it impossible for Terri to see him. He tapped on the driver’s side window and when she let it down, she saw only a bright flash, and felt an explosion of pain as her world turned black.

  As she gradually regained consciousness, she heard the rattling sound of heavy machinery and smelled diesel oil.

  It must be some kind of factory.

  She tried to open her eyes, but something held them closed. Terri reached for her face, but her hands remained fixed.

  “Where am I?” Terri said, her voice echoing off the walls.

  She felt his warmth as he whispered in her ear, “Some place where nobody will disturb us.”

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “How are you feeling, Doctor? That Taser’s quite unpleasant, I think.”

  Terri pulled on her bonds.

  “Don’t waste your time,” he continued in a whisper that made it impossible to identify his voice. “You’re not going anywhere until I say so.”

  Terri felt a latex-gloved hand move over her cheek and neck then it moved to her breasts where it lingered. “It would be a shame if something should happen to such a beautiful woman like you Doctor.”

  Terri broke out in a sweat and felt nauseated.

  “Where are the emails and the videos?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Terri felt her chest on fire as he crushed her breasts in his hands.

  “Some men may get pleasure in this,” the whisperer said, “but I do not. Please don’t force me to go further.”

  It’s stupid to resist, she thought. He’s made a major effort to hide his identity by blindfolding me and disguising his voice. I don’t think he means to kill me.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I want the emails and the videos, and I want you to tell me what 82A42J48 means.”

  “The material is in my office. You can have all of it. That sequence of numbers and letters, I have no idea what they mean.”

  Terri heard a snapping, static-like popping and froze.

  “Don’t make me do this,” he whispered.

  She felt two cold prongs against her neck. “Don’t...please. I just don’t...”

  Her mind exploded in pain and she threw her head back and strained against her bindings.

  “Nasty things, these Tasers. Please don’t make me increase the voltage.”

  “Are you crazy,” Terri shouted. “Take everything, but I don’t know what those numbers and letters mean. You can shock me all day, and I still wouldn’t know.”

  When he whispered, “Entertaining. Very entertaining,” Terri knew him at once for Karl Muller had used those exact words when he tried to remove her from the lab.

  Terri was tempted for a second to shout Karl’s name, but she knew that his anonymity was all that was keeping her from the grave.

  “I don’t know...I don’t know,” she cried. “If I knew, I’d tell you.”

  “I won’t believe you, Doctor until we reach a pain level that even you can’t resist.”

  “You’re crazy!” she shouted and her body jerked with electricity.

  When Terri regained consciousness, she was lying in a pool of her own urine. Karl had removed the tape from her eyes. He was smiling and she understood at once what this meant.

  “You’re one tough bitch, Doc,” he said pulling a silenced pistol from his belt. “You have nobody but yourself to blame.”

  I can’t believe it’s going to end this way. Abbie...Matt...Jennifer...Becky...

  Fear passed into rage as she shouted, “You fucking bastard! I’ll see you in hell.”

  “And I was going to make it quick, Doc,” he said pointing the weapon at her abdomen.

  “Freeze!” came the loud male voice.

  “What the fuck...” Karl said as he turned to his left and raised the gun.

  The gunshot’s explosion echoed through the room and warm blood splattered all over Terri. Time stood still as Karl remained upright for a second then fell backwards to the floor.

  Terri turned to see Matt moving toward her and Shelly standing with both arms still raised, the smoking gun in her hands.

  Matt cut the heavy duct tape releasing her. He pulled her into his arms.

  “How?” Terri asked.

  “An anonymous call from someone calling himself Mr. Brooks.”

  Matt turned to Shelly. “Are you okay?”

  Shelly walked over to Karl and kicked the gun from his grasp. She smiled then raised the muzzle of her gun to her lips, blew the smoke away, and returned her weapon to its holster. “Never felt better. Good riddance to that trash!”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Jennifer Howe stared at the kitchen clock that read 3 a.m. Her legs were up on the table as she read Prevention.

  Health magazines...that’s a joke.

  This was the third night in a row, and she remained so alert that sleep was impossible. She thought she might sleep at midnight when she noted the muscle twitching and cramping.

  Mickey staggered out of the bedroom. “Can’t sleep, sweetheart?”

  “This is getting ridiculous. I tried the Halcion that Terri gave me, but all it did was make me dizzy. I had to hold on to the wall just to get into the kitchen.”

  “Let’s give Terri a call tomorrow,” Mickey said. “Maybe she can suggest something.”

  When Jennifer stared at Mickey, her eyes were wandering as if searching for something.

  “Are you okay?” He asked.

  “When did my Dad call last? I can’t remember.”

  Mickey stood. “Dad? What are you talking about?”

  “My father. I can’t recall when we last spoke.”

  “Your father died last summer, Jennifer,” Mickey said in a near whisper. “Why are you asking for him now?”

  Jennifer tried the smile she didn’t feel, and then blushed. “Of course. How stupid. It must be that damned Halcion.”

  When Jennifer stood and turned to the bedroom, she wobbled and almost fell. Mickey caught her just in time. He held her arm as they crossed the family room back toward bed.

  Neither slept the remaind
er of the night.

  Karl Muller lay on the old factory’s wood floor in a sea of red. As Terri and Matt walked toward the exit, she, in a dreamlike state, almost stepped over the body. At the last minute, she detoured around.

  They sat in Matt’s car. Terri looked ahead, but saw and said nothing.

  “I’m so relieved that you’re okay,” Matt said.

  Terri raised her hand in a stop gesture.

  “What...?” he tried.

  “Please,” Terri said, her eyes filling with tears. “Give me a moment.”

  Matt pulled her close and she began to sob in his arms, her body shaking. Matt felt his tears form.

  After several minutes, she turned to face him. “I’ve never been so frightened in my life. I knew he was going to kill me, yet all I could think about was Abbie, you, Matt, and my patients. What was going to happen to all of you? I’ve been scared before, but I’ve always felt the certainty that I’d make it through somehow. This time, I knew I was dead.”

  Matt held her hands. “Be kind to yourself for a while. I’ve seen the toughest cops fall apart following a near-death experience.”

  “It’s stupid, but I kept thinking of all the things I’d miss...for Abbie and for us. I’ve been stupid about us, Matt. I know that now. You’ll forgive me.”

  He smiled. “Give me a break. I love you. There’s nothing to forgive.”

  They drove in silence down the Warren Freeway to Terri’s home, but as they headed into the Piedmont Hills, she pointed up the hill. “Let’s drive to Inspiration Point.”

  Matt pulled into the parking lot and they walked the few steps to the spectacular view of the San Francisco Bay, the city and its bridges.

  Terri took a deep breath then turned to Matt and stretched both hands out for his inspection. “See, no tremor. I’m better. Don’t worry.”

  “If we didn’t get there when we did...”

  “I know, but you did. Muller’s dead and we’re alive. I feel as if a great weight’s been lifted from my shoulders.” She paused and stared again at the city. “I’m calling Kevin to bring Abbie home. I missed her so.”

 

‹ Prev