By five-thirty Chet was ready to call it a day. He got up and stretched noisily, hoping that Jack would respond. Jack didn’t. In fact, Jack had not moved for the last hour or so except to turn pages and jot down more notes.
Chet got his coat from the top drawer of his file cabinet and cleared his throat several times. Still Jack did not respond. Finally Chet resorted to speech.
“Hey, old sport,” Chet called out. “How long are you going to work on that stuff?”
“Until I’m done,” Jack said without looking up.
“I’m meeting Colleen for a quick bite,” Chet said “We’re meeting at six. Are you interested? Maybe Terese could join us. Apparently they are planning to work most of the night.”
“I’m sticking here,” Jack said. “Enjoy yourselves. Say hello for me.”
Chet shrugged, pulled on his coat, and left.
Jack had been through the charts twice. So far the only genuine similarity among the four cases was the fact that their infectious disease symptoms had started after they had been admitted for other complaints. But as Laurie had pointed out, by definition, only Nodelman was a nosocomial case. In the other three situations the symptoms had come on within forty-eight hours of admission.
The only other possible similarity was the one that Jack had already considered: namely that all four patients were people who’d been hospitalized frequently and hence were economically undesirable in a capitated system. But other than that, Jack found nothing.
The ages ranged from twenty-eight to sixty-three. Two had been on the medical ward, one in OB-GYN, and one in orthopedics. There were no medications common to them all. Two were on “keep open” IVs. Socially they ranged from lower- to upper-middle class, and there was no indication that any of the four knew any of the others. There was one female and three males. Even their blood types differed.
Jack tossed his pen onto his desk and leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. He didn’t know what he expected from the charts, but so far he hadn’t learned anything.
“Knock, knock,” a voice called.
Jack turned to see Laurie standing in the doorway.
“I see you made it back from your foray to the General,” she said.
“I don’t think I was in any danger until I got back here,” Jack said.
“I know what you mean,” Laurie said. “Rumor had it that Bingham was fit to be tied.”
“He wasn’t happy, but we managed to work it out,” Jack said.
“Are you worried about the threat from the people who beat you up?” Laurie asked.
“I suppose,” Jack said. “I haven’t thought too much about it. I’m sure I’ll feel differently when I get to my apartment.”
“You’re welcome to come over to mine,” Laurie said. “I have a sad couch in my living room that pulls out into a decent bed.”
“You’re kind to offer,” Jack said. “But I have to go home sometime. I’ll be careful.”
“Did you learn anything to explain the central supply connection?” Laurie asked.
“I wish,” Jack said. “Not only didn’t I learn anything, but I found out that a number of people, including the city epidemiologist and the hospital infection control officer, have been in there beating the bushes for clues. I had the mistaken notion it was a novel idea.”
“Are you still thinking of the conspiracy slant?” Laurie asked.
“In some form or fashion,” Jack admitted. “Unfortunately, it seems to be a lonely stance.”
Laurie wished him good luck. He thanked her, and she left. A minute later she was back.
“I’m planning on getting a bite on the way home,” Laurie said. “Are you interested?”
“Thanks, but I’ve started on these charts, and I want to keep at it while the material is fresh in my mind.”
“I understand. Good night.”
“Good night, Laurie,” Jack said.
No sooner had Jack opened Nodelman’s chart for the third time than the phone rang. It was Terese.
“Colleen is about to leave to meet up with Chet,” Terese said. “Can I talk you into coming out for a quick dinner? We could all eat together.”
Jack was amazed. For five years he’d been avoiding social attachments of any kind. Now suddenly two intelligent, attractive women were both asking him to dine with them on the same night.