Strong Medicine (26 page)

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As the two of them approached, he moved his head and then, observing

them, seemed to shrink into himself. He turned away, but a moment later

abruptly changed his mind. Swinging back, his features twisted in the

parody of a smile, he held out his wrists, both close together.

"Did you bring handcuffs?" Townsend asked.

Gould seemed nonplused, then said, "Noah, I have to talk to you. Let's

go somewhere private."

"Why bother with privacy?" The response was close to a shout and it

appeared as if Townsend had raised his voice deliberately; a nurse and

several patients turned their heads in curiosity. "Isn't the whole

hospital going to know before the day is out?"

"Very well," Gould said quietly. "If you insist, we'll do it here. It is

my duty to tell you, Noah, that the medical board executive committee has

held a meeting. With the greatest regret it was decided to suspend your

hospital privileges."

"Do you have any idea"-Townsend's voice was still raised"how long I've

been part of this hospital and how much I've done for it?"

"I'm aware that it's been many years and we all know you've done a great

deal." Gould was uncomfortably conscious of still more people listening.

"Please, Noah, can't we

"Doesn't all of that count for something?"

"In this case, unfortunately no."

"Ask Andrew here how much I've done! Go on, ask him!"

"Noah," Andrew said. "I told them about Wyrazik. I'm sorry, but I had

to,"

"Ah, yes! Wyrazik." Townsend nodded several times with jerky movements

of his head; he spoke more softly. "That poor young fellow. He deserved

better. I'm sorry about Wyrazik too. I truly am.,,

Then suddenly, embarrassingly, the elderly physician broke down and began

to blubber. Violent sobs shook his body. They were punctuated by

incoherent phrases. ". . . first time . . . ever made mistake . . .

surely overlooked . . . won't happen . . . promise you . . ."

Andrew reached for Townsend's arm but Ezra Gould was ahead of him.

Grasping it, Gould said firmly, "Noah, let's get out of here. You're not

well. I'm going to take you home."

Still shaken by sobs, Townsend allowed himself to be eased toward the

elevators. Curious glances followed them.

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Gould turned to Andrew. Pushing Townsend slightly ahead, the chief of

medicine said quietly, "Andrew, stay here. Find out which patients Noah

saw today and check any orders he may have written. Do it quickly. There

must be no repetition of . . . You understand?"

Andrew nodded. "Yes."

Reluctantly he watched the other two go.

When they reached the elevators Townsend began screaming and shouting

hysterically, trying to resist. Suddenly, incredibly, something within

him seemed to have collapsed, reducing him to a shard of his former

sell', a broken figure, stripped of all dignity and stature. As an

elevator door opened Gould shoved Townsend roughly, hurriedly inside.

Even when the door closed the screaming could be heard. Then it faded as

the elevator descended, leaving Andrew standing alone amid the silence.

That evening, after dinner, Andrew received a telephone call at home from

Ezra Gould.

"I want to see you," the chief of medicine said. "Tonight. Where would

be most convenient? I'll come to your house if you wish."

"No," Andrew said. "Let's make it at the hospital." He had not felt equal

yet to telling Celia about Noah and though, as she always did, Celia

sensed something wrong, she had not pressed him for the reason.

When Andrew arrived at St. Bede's, Dr. Gould was in the tiny office which

the hospital set aside for his use. "Come in," he said. "And close the

door."

Opening a desk drawer, Gould produced a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

"It's against the rules and I do this rarely. But I feel a need tonight.

Will you join me?"

Andrew said gratefully, "Yes, please."

Gould poured the drinks, added ice and water, and they drank in silence.

Then Gould said, "I've been with Noah almost since I left you. There are

several things you should know. The first is-since it will affect your

practice and Noah's patients-Noah Townsend will never practice medicine

again."

Tow is he?" Andrew asked.

'Make that 'where is heT and I'll answer." Gould swirled the remaining

liquid in his glass. "He's been committed to a private

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psychiatric hospital in Newark. In the opinion of those competent to know,

he's unlikely ever to leave."

As Gould described the events of the afternoon and early evening his

voice was strained. At one point he commented grimly, "I hope I never go

through anything like this again."

After leaving Andrew, when Gould and Townsend reached the main floor of

St. Bede's the chief of medicine managed to hustle Townsend, still

screaming, into an unoccupied treatment room where Gould locked the door

and telephoned urgently for a staff psychiatrist. When the psychiatrist

arrived, between them they subdued Townsend and sedated him. Obviously,

in his condition Townsend could not be taken home so the psychiatrist had

done some hasty telephoning, after which Townsend was removed by

ambulance to the institute in Newark. Gould and the psychiatrist

accompanied him.

By the time they arrived at the psychiatric hospital, the sedation had

worn off and Townsend became violent, necessitating his being restrained

in a straitjacket. "Oh, Christ, it was awful!" Gould took out a

handkerchief and wiped his face.

At that point, more or less, it became evident that Noah Townsend had

become insane.

As Ezra Gould described it, "It was as if somehow Noah had been

living-for a long time and because of his drug addiction, of course-as

an empty shell. God knows how he managed to keep going, but he did. Then,

suddenly, what happened today caused the shell to crumple . . . and there

was nothing functioning inside and, the way it looks now, nothing

salvageable either."

An hour ago, Gould continued, he had been to see Noah Townsend's wife.

Andrew was startled. Amid all that had occurred in the past few days, he

had given no thought to Hilda, He asked, "How has she taken it?"

Gould considered before answering. "It's hard to say. She didn't talk a

lot and she didn't break down. I got the impression she's been expecting

something to happen, though never knowing what. I think you'd better see

her yourself tomorrow."

"Yes," Andrew said. A will."

Gould hesitated. Then, looking at Andrew directly, he said, "There's one

more thing you and I have to discuss, and that's the dead man, Wyrazik."

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"I may as well tell you now," Andrew said firmly, "I have no intention

of being part of any cover-up."

"All right," Gould acknowledged; his voice sharpened. "Then let me ask

you this: What do you propose doing? Are you going to make a public

statement, maybe to ihe press? After that will you volunteer as a

prosecution witness in a malpractice suit? Will you help some

ambulance-chasing lawyer on a fat contingency fee take away from

Townsend's wife whatever money Noah had accumulated for their old age?

Will you load this hospital with damages far in excess of any insurance

we carry, and which could break us financially, so we might have to

reduce our services or close?"

Andrew protested, "None of that may happen."

"But it could. You've read enough about sharp lawyers to know what they

can do in court."

"That isn't iny problem," Andrew insisted. "What's important is the

truth."

"The truth is important to us all," Gould answered. "You don't have a

monopoly on that. But sometimes the truth can be shaded for decent

reasons and in special circumstances," His voice became persuasive. "Now

listen carefully, Andrew. Hear me out."

The chief of medicine paused, gathering his thoughts, then said, "The

dead man's sister, Miss Wyrazik, arrived this afternoon from Kansas. Len

Sw.--eting saw her. She's a nice ordinary woman, he says, quite a bit

older than her brother was, and of course she's sorry about his death.

But the two of them weren't close, haven't been for many years, so for

her it's not a shattering bereavement. There's a father back in Kansas,

but he has Parkinson's. It's advanced, he hasn't long to live."

Andrew said, "I don't see what all this-"

"You will. Just listen!"

Again Gould paused before continuing. "Wyrazik's sister is not here to

make trouble. She hasn't asked a lot of questions. She even volunteered

the statement that her brother's health was never good. She wants his

remains cremated, and after-ward she'll take the ashes back to Kansas.

But she does have problems about money. When Len talked to her he

discovered that."

"Then she's entitled to be helped. Surely that's the least-"

"Exactly! We're all agreed on that, Andrew. What's more, financial help

can be arranged."

"How?"

"Len and Fergus McNair have worked it out. They've been busy

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this afternoon. Never mind all details; you and I don't need to know them,

But the fact is, our insurers-who've been talked to confidentially-have

an interest in seeing this thing ended quietly. Wyrazik, it appears, was

sending money to Kansas to help pay medical expenses for his father. Those

amounts can be continued, maybe augmented. Wyrazik's funeral expenses will

be paid. And there can be a pension, not enormous but sufficient, for the

sister for the remainder of her life."

"How will you explain that to her without admitting liability? Supposing

she becomes suspicious?"

"I imagine it's a risk," Gould said, "though Len and McNair don't seem

to think so, and they're lawyers after all. They believe they can handle

it discreetly. Also, I suppose, it has to do with the kind of woman Miss

Wyrazik is. The most important thing: this way there won't be any

ridiculous multimillion dollar settlements."

"I suppose," Andrew said, "what's ridiculous or isn't depends on your

point of view."

The chief of medicine gestured impatiently. "Try to remember this:

There's no wife involved, no children with future education to be

considered-just a dying old man and one middle-aged woman who's going to

be taken care of reasonably." Gould stopped, then asked abruptly, "What

were you thinking?" At the last remark Andrew had smiled.

"A cynical thought. If Noah had to kill a patient, he couldn't have

picked one who'd be more accommodating."

Gould shrugged. "Life's full of chances. This happens to be one that

broke our way. Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well, are you going to make a public statement? Will you call the

press?"

Andrew said irritably, "Of course not. I never intended to. You knew that

perfectly well."

"Then what else is there? You've already behaved correctly in bringing

what you knew to the hospital's attention. Further than that you're not