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Flashback Page 20

by Michael Palmer


  "Problems?"

  "Hey, you know what I'll bet? I'll bet my shot went a little farther right than we thought. Let's try looking over that way."

  "Judge?"

  "Yes?"

  "What sort of problems are you talking about?"

  Clayton Iverson hesitated for a time, apparently uncertain whether or not to continue the conversation. "Guy Beaulieu came to see me a few days before he died, " he said finally. "Oh?"

  "It was the second time he had been by in just two or three weeks.", He was very angry and upset.", He certainly was, " the Judge said, now leaning on his club and making no attempt to look for his ball. "He was also quite determined to prove that Ultramed and Frank had railroaded him out of practice as a means of setting up their own man, this Mainwaring, in his place. He claimed to have evidence that such underhanded dealings are typical of the company."

  "I know what he claimed. What I don't know is why on earth he kept coming to you when you made it clear to him how strongly you supported Frank and the excellent job he's done at the hospital."

  They watched in silence as each of the passing foursome hit his approach shot. Three of the balls landed neatly on the green, and the fourth, hit by a grizzled old man whom Zack placed somewhere in his mid-eighties, landed in a sand trap. As he invariably did when around very old people, Zack found himself praying that the man's coronary and cerebral circulations were, at least at that moment, functioning as nature intended. "The answer to your question, Zachary, " the Judge said after the old man had hit, "is that Guy was convinced that Frank or no Frank, I would not want to see him go under for acts he never committed.

  Remember, he and I went back a hell of a long way. I can't count the number of committees and projects we worked on together over the past thirty years, struggling to pull Sterling up from the dying little mill town it once was. As often as not we were on opposite sides of the fence on an issue, but that never mattered. We both fought like hell, but we fought within the rules."

  "I understand."

  "So, I guess he believed that based on the way we handled our differences, and on my record as a judge, I would champion any cause I felt was just."

  "And was he right?"

  The Judge took a new ball from his bag and dropped it backward, over his shoulder. "Of course he was right, " he said. "You should know that as well as anyone."

  "Sorry."

  "Beaulieu's dead, but the issues he was fighting against, if, in fact, they are issues at all, remain very much unresolved-at least until the deadline to repurchase the hospital passes. After that we are all, quite literally, at Ultramed's mercy."

  The buy back. Zack suddenly understood why Frank had been excluded from the afternoon. Silently, he cautioned himself against expressing any opinions until the Judge's position had become quite a bit clearer.

  Where Clayton Iverson and his scion were concerned, interactions and reactions had seldom, if ever, been simple and straightforward. While Zack's schoolboy years, especially after his accident, had passed by quietly and, by comparison, virtually unnoticed, the relationship between the Judge and Frank had been a turbulent, volatile affair. The man had soaked in his older son's accomplishments like an insaturable sponge, and inevitably, when Frank's heroics were slow in coming, or worse, when he did anything outside of the persona the Judge had created for him, there was friction. Thinking back, Zack wondered if either of the two ever truly appreciated the dynamics of those clashes. If being Judge Clayton Iverson's second son had engendered certain problems for him, being his first had proven something of a curse for Frank. He recalled the day when Frank, then a freshman or sophomore in high school, had received an A on a history paper. The teacher, in her comments, had noted that the writing style and content of the report were far beyond anything he had ever done before. Suspicious of the sudden improvement, the Judge had confronted Frank in what he liked to call an eyeball-to-eyeball showdown. It was a technique that had seldom failed to uncover a lie from either of his sons, and on that occasion Frank was beaten decisively. After an hour of confrontation, he shuffled to his room and produced the senior's paper from which he had plagiarized. The look in his eyes at that moment, a frightening olio of fear, hatred, humiliation, and anger, was one Zack would never forget.

  The result of that showdown had been a zero on the report from the teacher and a four-game suspension from basketball by the Judge, although he subsequently rescinded his punistiment after the coach pleaded that the team would suffer more from it than Frank. That confrontation, and its aftermath, said much of both father and son. The Judge, feeling he had made his point regarding dishonesty in any form, never again brought up the incident. For his part, Frank was, in fact, discouraged from further academic shortcuts, but only temporarily.

  Instead of responding to their father's leniency with change, he reacted with defiance. And one boastful day, not long after, he disclosed to his younger brother that he had dedicated himself to learning how to win in an eyeball-to-eyeball showdown. At first, he literally practiced before a mirror. Next came a series of what he called "test fibs." With time, even in the most critical situations he was able impassively to meet the man's piercing gaze and to hold it. In the years that immediately followed, his conflicts with the Judge fell off markedly, due in part to Frank's mastery of his new craft, and in larger measure to his athletic accomplishments. Then, with Frank's repeated failures prior to Ultramed-Davis, their relationship again became strained. Now, after four years of relative concord, a clash between the two men-possibly a monumental one-seemed to be in the making. And as always in the past, at the very heart of the matter were the Judge's expectations. Frank's performance had to be the very best, his conduct above reproach. The foursome ahead of them finished putting and left the green. The Judge addressed his ball, but after several seconds he checked back down the fairway to ensure that no one was approaching, and stepped away.

  "Zachary, you look troubled, " he said. "What is it?"

  "I'm not troubled. It's just that "What?"

  Zack shook his head. "It's nothing, Judge. Go ahead and hit."

  "You're worried that I'm taking sides against Frank. Is that it? "

  "He is your son."

  "And you think that because of that, I should turn my back on the possibility that he might be involved in something unethical, or even dishonest."

  "I didn't say that."

  "What, then?"

  Zack stopped himself at the last moment from sharing details of Guy Beaulieu's legacy, of his encounter with Maureen Banas, and of his mounting distrust of Ultramed. There were still simply too many uncertainties to open those cans of worms before he had had the chance to discuss them with Frank. "Judge, " he said, carefully choosing his words, "Guy Beaulieu was trying his damnedest to bring down Ultramed. If Frank fell with it, that was no concern of his.

  I appreciate your commitment to doing what's right, but-"

  "But what?"

  Again, Zack hesitated. One slip, one misplaced thought, and the Judge would be off and running on another of his crusades. In Frank's eyes, the two of them would be aligned against him and Ultramed, and any chance of enlisting his help, either in exposing the corporation or in solving the mystery of Toby Nelms, would likely be lost for good.

  "Judge, Frank has his quirks and his faults, " he said finally, "just like the rest of us. But considering the expectations and the pressures he's had to overcome since those days at Sterling High, I think he's done some things we should both be proud of. At the very least, we Should be going out of our way to give him the benefit of the doubt in' this business."

  "So you think I'm being disloyal by wanting to know whether my son and the corporation he works for are making a profit at the expense Of my community?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "And you think it's disloyalty to question whether Frank might have had a role in the destruction of a man's reputation?"

  "Judge, please."

  "I'm sorry, Zachary, but I'v
e spent more than thirty years as a lawyer, half of them as a judge. As far as I'm concerned, doing what is right is far more important than any of that kind of so-called loyalty."

  "I'm not arguing with that. It's just that from what I can see, this whole business isn't all that simple. Did you know that if it weren't for Frank's using his influence at the hospital, Beaulieu would have been suspended some time ago?" The Judge looked shaken. "No, " he said.

  "I didn't."

  "Well, it's true." Of course, the story of Frank's intercession had come from Frank himself, but Zack saw no point in sharing that piece of information, or for that matter, his displeasure with Frank's behavior on the day of Beaulieu's death. He was enjoying the chance to play his brother's advocate. He also sensed that in arguing on Frank's behalf, he was, in some ways, making a case for their father's recognition of his own accomplishments in life. The Judge seemed surprised and upset by his stand. Again, he addressed his ball, although Zack could see from his stance and his bloodless knuckles that his concentration was broken. And suddenly Zack understood, his father had done something, or at least was contemplating doing something, that would not sit well with Frank, and now, all at once, he had doubts. His swing was rushed and awkward. The ball, never really leaving the ground, skimmed across the fairway and slammed into the recently vacated sand trap. Clayton Iverson barely reacted to the horrible shot. "You know, " he said as they trudged toward the bunker, "from the day your mother and I first learned she was pregnant with Frank, we began to share visions of greatness for our children. I don't suppose that makes us unique, but I tell you, son, we spent many an hour by the fire that winter sharing our dreams. We even named Frank, and then you, after presidents-little-known presidents, but ones who did leave their marks on history."

  Inwardty, Zack sighed. This talk was one he had endured many times over the years. Franklin Pierce, the only president born in New Hampshire, and Zachary Taylor, the much-maligned warrior who, despite four historically undistinguished years in office, established the Department of the Interior, were special favorites of the Judge. "Betieve me, Judge, " Zack said, in what had become his standard response to the discussion, "both Frank and I appreciate the values and the drive you instilled in us."

  He paused to chip his approach shot onto the edge of the green and then watched as his father, now totally off his game, took two shots to get out of the sand trap. By the end of the hole, Zack had cut his deficit to six dollars, and following two ties and a disastrous seven by the Judge on the thirteenth, he had pared it by three dollars more. "Judge, " he said, motioning to the small refreshment kiosk by the fourteenth tee, "let's take a break. Anything that could upset you enough to play like this ought to be talked out."

  "I'm not upset, " Clayton Iverson said. "Okay, you're not upset. You only went from shooting four over par for the whole front nine, to shooting eight over for the first four holes since you brought up this business about the hospital. Why don't you have a seat at that little table over there and let me buy you a beer."

  The Judge started to protest, but then relented. "Maybe I am a little upset, " he muttered. Zack left him at the wrought-iron table and returned with two frosted mugs and two bottles of Lowenbrau. "So, what's going on? " Zack asked as he sipped at his beer. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean Frank, Judge. I know you helped him get considered for the job with Ultramed. Is that why you're being hard on him? Because you feel responsible?"

  "Zachary, the mess your brother made of that damn electronics company of his wasn't his first fiasco. He just didn't have the patience for that kind of business. He was constantly trying to go directly from step one to step twenty. He was lucky the Ultramed opportunity came along when it did. I told him that when he-" Clayton Iverson stopped m mid-sentence.

  "When he what, Judge?"

  "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

  "He asked you for a loan, didn't he? " Zack said. Suddenly pieces of conversations he had had with his brother over the years began falling into place. Although Frank had never shared the details of his company's failure, he had made it clear that he felt their father was, at least in part, at fault. "It was a foolish request. He was already in it up to here. It would have been throwing good money after bad."

  "Frank didn't see it that way, Judge."

  "Well., I did. I agreed to help him out of the hole he had gotten himself in, but only on the condition that he get rid of that company.

  The hospital job gave him a chance to get out from underneath that nonsense and to show everyone in town just what he could do."

  To say nothing of bringing him back here, under your thumb, Zack thought angrily. "So, he got the job, and he's done it well. What more could you Want from him?"

  "I could want him to bring the same values to his position that I bring to mine. That's what I could want. I could want him to stand up for what's right."

  Despite the warm afternoon, Zachary felt suddenly cold. "What's right?"

  I'm the one with Beaulieu's evidence, he wanted to shout.

  I'm the one who confronted Maureen Banas. How can you be so damned sure of what's right? "Dad, " he said, "exactly what have you done?"

  "You know, Zachary, I don't particularly like that tone of yours.

  You may be a big-shot surgeon, but you're still my son."

  Zack sensed himself backing away from his father's glare. He couldn't remember the last time he had pushed against the man this hard. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Apology accepted. I think that thirty years on the bench more than qualifies me to tell when someone's handing me a line of bull. rhere was just too much smoke surrounding Beaulieu's complaints for there to be no fire. I… I didn't know until you told me that Frank had intervened on his behalf."

  He hesitated, and then reached into the pocket of his golf bag, withdrew an envelope, and passed it over. "Here, " he said, "read this."

  Mrs. Leigh Baron Director, Operations Ultramed Hospitals Corporation Boston Place Boston, Massachusetts 02108 Dear Mrs. Baron, The contract effecting the sale of Davis Regional Hospital to Ultramed Hospitals Corporation is now in its fourth and final year.

  As you are no doubt aware, the agreement contains provisions for the reacquisition of the facility by the community-based board, of which I am chairman, provided the board meets no less than five months prior to the termination date of the contract and agrees by a vote of no less than 51 % of its members to return to Ultramed the original purchase price-a sum currently held in escrow in the Sterling National Bank-in exchange for resuming control of the hospital. Until recently, I had no intention of convening the board to consider such a vote. However, a situation has developed that greatly concerns me-a conflict between Dr.

  Guy Beaulieu, one of the first physicians to settle in Sterling, and your corporation. It was the late Dr. Beaulieu's contention that the hospital administration, and ultimately, Ultramed Hospitals Corporation itself, was responsible for machinations calculated to drive him out of medical practice. He further claimed knowledge of actions by your corporation, through Ultramed-Davis, which have been contrary to the best interests of our community. I know that he had conveyed his feelings to you on several occasions, and that he had, in fact, instituted legal action against both the hospital and Ultramed Hospitals Corporation. Dr. Beaulieu's widow has contacted me and has requested that the board seriously consider Dr. Beaulieu's allegations before the end of our provisional period at noon on July 19. 1 have asked Mrs.

  Beaulieu to make every effort, in advance of that date, to supply me with details of her husband's claims and the evidence behind them.

  Meanwhile, please consider this letter notification that I intend to convene the board at 11 a. m. on Friday, July 19, for the purpose of discussing our options. Also, as provided in our contract, I have commissioned a full, independent audit of the hospital, which I expect to be initiated within the next few days. As you know, according to section 4B of the contract, 15 percent of the hospital's profits over the past four years should hav
e been funneled back into the community through the treatment of indigent patients, and another 3 percent through support of various civic projects enumerated in section 4C.

  Violation of that section, even if uncovered after the July 19 deadline, will nullify our contract with you. Meanwhile, if you have any information or thoughts on this matter, I would welcome hearing from you. Hoping for an amicable resolution of this issue, I remain, Sincerely yours, Clayton C. Iverson Zack was incredulous, Beaulieu's widow and daughter had given him no indication that they planned to contact the board directly. "Judge, just when did Mrs. Beaulieu call you? " he asked. "Well… actually, she didn't call me… I called her."

  "And has she contacted other members of the board?" til, um, suggested she might want to do so."

  "Oh, Judge, why? "

  "Because ol' Guy might have been right, that's why."

  "But Frank said he wasn't. Why couldn't you have just given him the benefit of the doubt?"

  "I. I felt that if he hadn't done anything wrong, he didn't have anything to worry about."

  "Of course he does. He's got to worry about how to explain to the people at Ultramed why his own father would be trying to sabotage their hospital. You don't even know what kind of so-called evidence Guy had, do you?… Well, do you?"

  Clayton Iverson shook his head. "I didn't think so. Well, I do, Judge. I know exactly what he had. Clothilde Beaulieu gave it all to me at his funeral. And I tell you there isn't enough proof of wrongdoing even to dent Ultramed. Circumstantial stuff. That's all he had accumulated. Just a pile of inferential lists, anecdotes, and newspaper clippings. "I'll admit that I have some strong reservations about that company, but up till now there's no hard evidence-not one person that I know of-who was directly hurt by the corporation's policies. Why couldn't you have just gone to Frank?

 

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