Devil’s Waltz. By: Jonathan Kellerman

be empowered. If you recall, the last two assault victims were women

and-” “Yes, I do recall, Elaine. We all do. And I assure you that in

the event other meetings are scheduled-and it’s certainly clear to me

that they need to be-a definite effort will be made to reach out.”

Elaine contemplated debate, then shook her head and sat.

Afro returned to the board, chalk poised. “I suppose we’ve moved on to

another item, de facto, haven’t we. Staff security?”

Scattered nods. The lack of group coherence was almost tangible. It

reminded me of so many other meetings, years ago. Endless discussions,

little or no resolution.

Afro placed a check next to ASHMORE MEMORIAL, wrote STF SECURITY on the

next line, and faced the assembly.

“Okay. Any suggestions beyond guards and karate?”

“Yeah,” said a balding, swarthy, thick-shouldered man.

“Guns.”

A few chuckles.

Afro gave a tight smile. “Thank you, Al. Was that the way things were

handled in Houston?”

“You bet, John. 5 and W in every black bag. That’s Smith and Wesson,

for all you pacifist types.”

Afro made a gun with his thumb and forefinger, pointed it at Bald, and

winked. Anything else, Al, short of turning the hospital into an armed

camp?”

Dan Kornblatt stood. “I hate to say it but I think we’re lapsing into

tunnel vision here. What we need to do is address the larger

issues.”

“In what sense, Dan?”

“In the sense of our purpose-the institution’s purpose.”

Afro looked puzzled. Are we through, then, with item two?”

Kornblatt said, “I certainly am. Security is just a symptom of the

greater” Afro waited a moment, then checked off STF SECURITY.

“What malaise is that, Dan?”

“Chronic, end-stage apathy-institutionally sanctioned apathy.

Just look around. How many private physicians are there on staff,

John? Two hundred? Just take a look what percentage cared enough to

brown-bag it today and make a statement with their presence.”

“Dan-” “Wait, let me finish. There’s a reason so few private people

are here. And it’s the same reason they avoid sending their paying

patients here if they can find semi-decent local facilities. Same

reason so many of our top people have gone elsewhere. We’ve been

tagged as a stepchild-an institutional /iser. And the community’s

bought into that because the board itself and the administration hold

this institution in low regard. And so do we. I’m sure we’ve all had

enough psych to know what happens to the self-image of a kid who keeps

being told he’s a loser. He starts believing it. Same thing applies

to-” The door opened wide. Heads turned. George Plumb entered and

straightened his tie, a blood-red paisley against a white shirt and

light-gray raw silk suit. His shoes clicked as he descended to the

pit.

When he got to the bottom he stood next to Afro, as if assuming his

rightful position.

Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” he said.

Kornblatt said, “We were just talking about institutional apathy,

George.”

Plumb gave a thoughtful look and placed one fist under his chin. “I

was under the impression this was a memorial for Dr. Ashmore.”

Afro said, “It was, but we’ve covered some additional ground.”

Plumb turned and studied the writing on the board. “Quite a chunk of

ground, it seems. Might I backtrack and talk a bit about Dr.

Ashmore?”

Silence. Then nods. Looking disgusted, Kornblatt sat down.

“First of all,” said Plumb, “I want to communicate the sympathy of the

board of directors and the administration for the loss of Dr. Laurence

Ashmore. Dr. Ashmore was a noted researcher and his absence will be

profoundly felt. In lieu of flowers, Mrs. Ashmore has requested that

funds be sent to UNICEF. My office will be pleased to handle all

donations. Second, I want to assure you that progress has been made

fabricating new parking cards. The cards are ready and can be picked

up from Security between three and five, today and tomorrow. We regret

any inconvenience. However, I’m sure all of you recognize the

necessity of changing the keys. Any questions?”

The stocky bearded man named Greg said, “What about real

security-guards at each stairwell?”

Plumb smiled. “I was just getting to that, Dr. Spironi. Yes, both

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