Kim rapped on her window. “Wait a sec,” he yelled. “I’m sorry. Please!” He ran a worried hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m desperate for your help. I didn’t mean anything personal. Obviously I don’t know you.”
After a few seconds’ deliberation, Marsha rolled her window down and looked up at Kim. What had appeared to her a moment previously as the visage of an eccentric oddball now looked like the face of a tortured man.
“Are you really a doctor?” she asked.
“Yes,” Kim said. “A cardiac surgeon to be exact.”
“And your daughter is really sick?”
“Very, very sick,” Kim said with a voice that broke. “She has an extremely bad strain of E. coli. I’m almost positive she got it from eating a rare hamburger.”
“I’m truly sorry to hear that,” Marsha said. “But listen, I’m not the one you should be talking to. I’ve only been working for the USDA for a short time, and I’m at the bottom of the inspectional service totem pole.”
“Who do you think I should contact?” Kim asked.
“The district manager,” Marsha said. “His name is Sterling Henderson. I could give you his number.”
“Is he sort’a what you’d call middle management?” Kim asked. He could hear Kathleen’s voice in the back of his mind.
“I suppose,” Marsha said.
“I’m not interested,” Kim said. “I’ve been told there are real problems with the USDA inspectional services in terms of conflict of interest, especially in middle-management positions. Is this something you know anything about?”
“Well, I know there are problems,” Marsha admitted. “It’s all very political.”
“Meaning, a multibillion-dollar industry like the beef industry can throw its weight around.”
“Something like that,” Marsha said.
“Will you help me for my daughter’s sake?” Kim asked. “I can’t help her medically, but I’m sure as hell going to find out the how and the why she got sick, and maybe in the process do something about it. I’d love to spare other kids from the same fate. I think one of these lots on this piece of paper has to be contaminated with a particularly dangerous strain of E. coli.”
“Gosh, I don’t know what to say,” Marsha responded. She tapped the steering wheel as she debated with herself. The idea of saving some children from a serious illness had great appeal. But there were risks.
“I don’t think there’s any way for me to get this material without your help,” Kim said. “At least not fast enough to make a difference.”
“What about calling the department of public health?” Marsha suggested.
“That’s an idea,” Kim said. “I’ll be willing to try that too on Monday. But, to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t be optimistic going that route. I’d just be dealing with another bureaucracy, and it probably would take too long. Besides, I kinda want to do this myself. It’s to make up for not being able to help my daughter medically.”
“I might be putting my job on the line,” Marsha said. “Although maybe I could enlist the aid of my immediate boss. The trouble with that is that he and I have never had what I would call a good working relationship.”
“Would that be the district manager whom you mentioned earlier?” Kim asked.
“That’s right,” Marsha said. “Sterling Henderson.”
“I’d prefer we just kept this between you and me,” Kim said.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Marsha said. “The trouble is, it’s my job not yours.”
“Tell me,” Kim said, suddenly having an idea. “Have you ever seen a child ill with this E. coli problem? The reason I ask is because I never did before my own daughter got sick, and I’m a doctor. I mean I’d read about it, but it was always an abstraction, a statistic.”
“No, I never have seen a child sick with E. coli,” Marsha admitted.
“Then come with me to see my daughter,” Kim said. “After you see her, you can then decide what to do. I’ll accept whatever decision you make. If nothing else, it will give added meaning to your work.”
“Where is she?” Marsha asked.
“She’s at the University Med Center,” Kim said. “The same hospital where I’m on the staff.” Kim motioned toward Marsha’s cell phone that he could see between the two front seats. “Call the hospital if you question what I’m saying. My name is Dr. Kim Reggis. My daughter’s name is Becky Reggis.”
“I believe you,” Marsha said. She wavered. “When do you have in mind?”
“Right now,” Kim said. “Come on. My car is right over there.” Kim pointed over his shoulder. “You can ride with me. Afterwards I’ll bring you back here to get your car.”
“I can’t do that,” Marsha said. “I don’t know you from Adam.”
“All right,” Kim said, warming to the idea of Marsha seeing Becky. “Follow me. I was only worrying about where you’d park once at the hospital, but screw it. Just follow me right into the doctors’ lot. What do you say?”
“I’d say you are persistent and persuasive,” Marsha said.
“All right!” Kim exclaimed, raising a clenched fist for emphasis. “I’ll loop around here, so just follow me.”
“Okay,” Marsha said warily, unsure of what she’d gotten herself into.
Jack Cartwright had had his nose pressed against the window. He’d kept an eye on Kim and had witnessed the entire confrontation between Kim and Marsha Baldwin. Of course he’d not heard what they’d said, but he did see Marsha follow his car out of the lot after the two had seemed to reach some agreement.
Leaving the reception area, Jack hustled down the central corridor, passing the stairwell where he’d taken Kim up to the observation tunnel. At the far end of the hall were the administration offices.
“Is the boss in?” Jack asked one of the secretaries.
“He sure is,” she said without interrupting her word processing.
Jack knocked on the president’s closed door. A booming voice told him to “come the hell in.”
Everett Sorenson had been successfully running Mercer Meats for almost twenty years. It had been under his leadership that the company had been bought out by Foodsmart and that the new plant had been constructed. Sorenson was a big man, even stockier than Jack, with a florid complexion, small ears for his size, and a shiny bald pate.
“What the hell are you all wired up about?” Everett asked as Jack came into the room. Everett had a sixth sense about his minion whom he’d personally elevated right off the patty-room floor into the company’s hierarchy.
“We got a problem,” Jack said.
“Oh!” Everett said. He tipped forward in his desk chair to lean his bulky torso on his elbows. “What’s up?”
Jack took one of the two chairs in front of Everett’s desk. “You know that article you pointed out in the paper this morning? The one about the crazy doctor carrying on about E. coli and getting arrested in the Onion Ring restaurant on Prairie Highway?”
“Of course,” Everett said. “What about it?”
“He was just here,” Jack said.
“The doctor?” Everett asked with disbelief.
“The exact same guy,” Jack said. “His name is Dr. Reggis. And I’ll tell you straight, this guy is a nutcase. He’s out of control, and he’s convinced his daughter got her E. coli from one of our patties.”
“Damn!” Everett intoned. “This is not what we need.”
“And it gets worse,” Jack said. “I just watched him have a conversation in our parking lot with Marsha Baldwin. Afterwards they drove away in tandem.”
“You mean, you think they drove away together?” Everett asked.
Jack nodded. “That’s the way it looked. Before they left, they’d talked for quite a while in the parking lot.”
“Jesus Christ!” Everett said, slapping the surface of his desk with one of his shovel-like hands. He pushed back from the desk and got to his feet to pace. “This is not what we need! No way! That goddamn Baldwin bitch h
as been a thorn in my side from the day she was hired. She’s constantly filing these stupid deficiency reports. Thank God Sterling Henderson has been able to can them.”
“Can’t Sterling do something about her?” Jack asked. “Like get her fired?”
“I wish,” Everett said. “I’ve been complaining until I’m blue in the face.”
“With the money we’re paying him as if he still works here,” Jack said, “you’d think he’d at least get her transferred.”
“In his defense, it’s a difficult situation,” Everett said. “Apparently her father is connected in Washington.”
“Which leaves us up the creek without a paddle,” Jack said. “Now we’ve got an overzealous inspector who doesn’t play by the rules teamed up with a loose-cannon physician who’s willing to get himself arrested at a fast-food restaurant just to make a point. I’m afraid this guy could be like a kamikaze pilot. He’ll sacrifice himself, but he’s bent on taking us with him.”
“I don’t like this,” Everett said nervously. “Another E. coli fiasco would be devastating. Hudson Meat management didn’t survive their run-in with the bug. But what can we do?”
“We’ve got to do damage control,” Jack said. “And we have to do it quickly. It seems to me that this is the perfect time to call into play the newly formed Prevention Committee. I mean, this kind of situation is exactly what it was formed for.”
“You know something,” Everett said, “you’re right. It would be perfect. I mean, we wouldn’t even be involved.”
“Why not give Bobby Bo Mason a call,” Jack suggested.
“I’ll do that,” Everett said, warming to the whole idea. This type of tactical thinking and decision-making was why he’d promoted Jack to the vice presidency.
“Time is of the essence,” Jack said.
“I’ll call right away,” Everett said.
“Maybe we can take advantage of Bo’s dinner party tonight,” Jack said. “That might speed things up. I mean, everybody will be there.”
“Good point!” Everett said as he reached for his phone.
Kim parked quickly. He got out in time to direct Marsha into one of the spots reserved for doctors that Kim was relatively confident wouldn’t be used on a Saturday. He opened her door the moment she stopped.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Marsha asked as she got out. She looked up at the imposing facade of the hospital. After having time to think about the plan during the drive into the city, she was having second thoughts.
“I think it is a masterful idea,” Kim said. “I don’t know why it took me so long to think of it. Come on!”
Kim took Marsha’s arm and guided her toward the entrance. She put up a token resistance at first but then resigned herself to the situation. She’d rarely been in a hospital and didn’t know how she’d respond. She was afraid it might upset her more than she bargained back in the Mercer Meats parking lot. To her surprise, while they waited for the elevator in the hospital lobby, she noticed that Kim was trembling, not she.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“To be truthful, no,” Kim admitted. “Obviously I’ve been in and out of hospitals since medical school, and it’s never bothered me even at the beginning. But now with Becky’s situation, I get this awful anxiety every time I come through the door. I guess it’s the main reason I’ve not been staying here around the clock. It would be different if there were something I could do. But there isn’t.”
“It must be heart-wrenching,” Marsha said.
“You’ve no idea,” Kim said.
They boarded a crowded elevator and didn’t talk until they were in the corridor leading toward the ICU.
“I don’t mean to be nosy,” Marsha said, “but how is your wife holding up under the strain of your daughter’s illness?”
“We’re divorced,” Kim said. “But we’re united in our concern for Becky. Tracy, my ex-wife, is taking it hard, although I sense she’s doing better than I. I’m sure she’s here. I’ll introduce you.”
Marsha shuddered. Having to share a mother’s anguish was going to make the experience that much more disturbing. She began to question why she’d allowed herself to be dragged into this.
Then, to make matters worse, Marsha saw signs to the ICU that pointed in the direction they were walking.
“Is your daughter in intensive care?” she asked, hoping for a negative response.
“I’m afraid so,” Kim answered.
Marsha sighed. This was going to be even worse than she’d feared.
Kim paused at the threshold of the ICU waiting room. He saw Tracy and motioned for Marsha to follow him. By the time he reached Tracy, his former wife had gotten to her feet.
“Tracy, I’d like you to meet Marsha Baldwin. Marsha is a USDA inspector who I’m hoping will help me trace the meat Becky had.”
Tracy didn’t answer immediately, and seeing her expression, Kim instantly knew that something else had happened. It seemed that every time he came back, Becky got worse. It was like a bad movie playing over and over.
“What now?” Kim asked grimly.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Tracy asked with weary exasperation.
“It didn’t ring,” Kim said.
“I tried to call,” Tracy said. “Several times.”
Kim realized he’d left his phone in his car when he’d been in Mercer Meats and when he had been with Marsha.
“Well, I’m here now,” Kim said disconsolately. “What happened?”
“Her heart stopped,” Tracy said. “But they got it going again. I was in the room when it happened.”
“Perhaps I should leave,” Marsha said.
“No!” Kim said emphatically. “Stay, please! Let me go in and see what’s happening.”
Kim spun on his heels and ran from the room.
Tracy and Marsha regarded each other uneasily.
“I’m so sorry about your daughter,” Marsha said.
“Thank you,” Tracy said. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a tissue. She’d cried so much in the previous forty-eight hours that she was almost out of tears. “She’s such a wonderful child.”
“I wasn’t aware your daughter was quite this ill,” Marsha said. “It must be a terrible burden.”
“Unimaginable,” Tracy said.
“I feel terrible about intruding at a time like this,” Marsha said. “I’m very sorry. Perhaps I should just leave.”
“You don’t have to leave on my accord,” Tracy said. “Kim sounded emphatic that he’d prefer you stay. How he can even think about tracing meat at this juncture, I cannot understand. I’m having difficulty just breathing.”
“It must be because he’s a doctor,” Marsha said. “He made it clear to me he was interested in trying to prevent other children from getting the same problem.”
“I suppose I hadn’t thought about it from that angle,” Tracy said. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”
“He’s afraid there’s a batch of contaminated meat out there,” Marsha said.
“I guess that’s a real possibility,” Tracy said. “But what I don’t understand is why he brought you here. I don’t mean that to be rude.”
“I understand,” Marsha said. “He’d asked me to help trace the meat in some specific lots. I was reluctant; it’s really not part of my job. In fact, giving out that kind of information might cost me my job if my boss found out. His idea was that seeing your daughter and witnessing firsthand what this E. coli can do might change my mind. At a minimum, he thought seeing her would give added meaning to my work as a meat inspector.”
“Seeing Becky’s suffering might make you the most conscientious inspector in the world. Are you still interested in knowing how sick she is? It’ll take a bit of fortitude.”
“I don’t know,” Marsha said truthfully. “And as I said, I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding,” Tracy said with sudden resolve. “Come on. Let’s make your visit.”<
br />
Tracy led Marsha out of the waiting room and across the corridor. She paused at the ICU door.
“Stay close,” Tracy said. “We’re not supposed to be wandering in and out of here unaccompanied.”
Marsha nodded. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she was perspiring.
Tracy opened the door and the two women entered. Tracy walked quickly toward Becky’s cubicle, with Marsha right behind her. Several of the nurses saw the women but said nothing. Tracy had become a fixture in the ICU over the previous forty-eight hours.
“I’m afraid it’s going to be difficult to see much at all,” Tracy said as they reached the cubicle’s threshold. Besides Kim, there were six doctors and two nurses packed into the tiny room. But it was Kim’s voice that could be heard.
“I understand that she has arrested several times,” Kim yelled. He was furious from a combination of fear and exasperation. Drawing on his vast clinical experience, he knew his daughter was at death’s door, but no one was giving him a straight answer, and no one was doing anything but stand around and figuratively stroke their chins. “What I’m asking is why it’s happening.”
Kim stared at Jason Zimmerman, the pediatric cardiologist to whom he’d just been introduced. The man looked off, pretending to be absorbed in watching the cardiac monitor that was tracing an erratic rhythm. Something was terribly wrong.
Kim twisted to look at Claire Stevens. Over her shoulder, he caught sight of Tracy and Marsha.
“We don’t know what is going on,” Claire admitted. “There’s no pericardial fluid, so it’s not tamponade.”
“It seems to me it’s something inherent in the myocardium itself,” Jason said. “I need a real EKG.”
No sooner had these words escaped from the cardiologist’s mouth than the monitor alarm sounded. The cursor swept across the screen tracing a flat line. Becky had arrested again.
“Code blue!” one of the nurses shouted to alert the others out in the intensive-care unit proper.
Jason responded by pushing Kim away from the side of the bed. Immediately he began external cardiac massage by putting his hands together and pumping on Becky’s frail chest. Jane Flanagan, the anesthesiologist who’d responded to the initial code and who was still there, made sure the endotracheal tube remained in proper place. She also upped the percentage of oxygen delivered by the respirator.