“My life, I guess.” Susan looked at the photo of her brother.
“Susan, if that is true, then this becomes a serious affair, to say the very least. But are you sure this isn’t some sort of prank by some of your classmates? Medical school pranks can get rather elaborate on occasion.”
“I must admit I hadn’t thought of that.” Susan gingerly felt her lacerated lip with the tip of her tongue. “But I think this was the real thing.”
“Conjecture is not what’s needed at this point. I will personally advise the hospital executive committee of this. But, Susan, now is definitely the time for you to withdraw from further involvement. I advised you to do that before, but only because I was afraid it might hurt you academically. Now, it’s apparently a different game. I think professionals should take over. Have you reported this to the police?”
“No, the threat included my younger brother, and there was a plain warning not to go to the police. That’s why I’ve called you. Besides, if I went to the police, they’d probably dismiss it as a simple attempted rape rather than a specific threat.”
“I doubt it very much.”
“Most males would.”
“But if the threat included your family, you are probably right to be careful with whom you talk. But my gut reaction suggests that you should report the incident to the police.”
“I’ll give it some thought. Meanwhile, I wondered if you’d heard that I’ve been kicked out of my surgery rotation at the Memorial. I have to go to the V.A. to do my surgery.”
“No, I’ve not been told about that When did this happen?”
“This afternoon. Obviously I’d much prefer to stay at the Memorial. I think that I could prove that I am a good student if given the chance. Since you are Chief of Surgery and since you are aware that I have not been merely goofing off, I thought maybe you might be willing to reverse that decision.”
“As Chief of Surgery I should have been told about your dismissal. I will get in touch with Dr. Bellows immediately.”
“I don’t think he knows about it, either, to tell you the truth. It was a Mr. Oren.”
“Oren? Well that’s interesting. Susan, I cannot promise anything, but I’ll look into it. I must tell you that you have not been the most popular student here with Anesthesia and Medicine.”
“I’d appreciate anything you can do. One other question. Would it be possible for you to arrange a visit for me to the Jefferson Institute? I’d very much like to visit the patient, Berman. I’m sort of hoping that if I can see him again that maybe I’ll be able to forget this whole affair.”
“You certainly have a lot of difficult demands, young lady. But I’ll call and see what I can do. The Jefferson is not university-controlled. It was built by government funds through HEW, but its operation has been turned over to a private medical management firm. So I have little voice there. But I’ll check. Give me a call after nine tomorrow, and I’ll let you know.”
Susan hung up the phone. Obviously in deep thought, she bit her lower lip, as was her habit. The result was painful. She stared at one of the posters on her walls but with unseeing eyes. Her mind raced over the events of the last few days, searching for possible associations that she had missed.
Impulsively she got up and took out the nurse’s uniform she had purchased. Then she began to dry her hair. Fifteen minutes later, she viewed herself in the mirror. The uniform fitted reasonably well.
She picked up the photograph of her brother for the second time. At least she felt reasonably confident that there was no immediate danger for her family. It was winter vacation for public schools and her family was skiing in Aspen for the week.
Wednesday, February 25, 7:15 P.M.
Susan had no illusions about her situation. She was in danger and had to be resourceful. Whoever it was that had decided to threaten her undoubtedly expected that she would mend her ways and live in fear, at least for a while. Susan felt that she had about forty-eight hours of relative freedom of movement. After that, who knew.