“You mean for the meeting?” Beaton asked.
“The meeting and after the meeting,” Traynor said with a lascivious smile.
“I’m not sure about after,” Beaton said. “We need to talk.”
“Talk about what?” Traynor asked. This was not what he wanted to hear.
“Now isn’t a good time,” Beaton said. She could already see Patrick Swegler and Wayne Robertson on their way over.
Traynor leaned against the fence. He felt a little weak. The one thing he counted on was Beaton’s affection. He wondered if she were cheating on him, seeing someone like that ass Charles Kelley. Traynor sighed; there was always something wrong.
Patrick Swegler approached Traynor and looked him squarely in the eye. Traynor thought of him as a tough kid. He’d played football for Bartlet High School during the brief era that Bartlet dominated their interscholastic league.
“There wasn’t much we could have done,” Swegler said, refusing to be intimidated about the incident. “The nurse had done a double shift and she did not call security before she left as we’d repeatedly instructed nurses to do whenever they leave late. To make matters worse, she’d parked in the upper lot when she’d come to work for the day shift. As you know, the upper lot is not illuminated.”
“Jesus H. Christ!” Traynor muttered. “I’m supposed to be supervising the running of a multimillion-dollar operation, and I’ve got to worry about the most mundane details. Why didn’t she call security?”
“I wasn’t told, sir,” Swegler said.
“If we get the new garage, the problem will be over,” Beaton said.
“Where’s Werner Van Slyke of engineering?” Traynor said. “Get him over here.”
“You of all people know Mr. Van Slyke doesn’t attend any of the hospital’s social functions,” Beaton said.
“Dammit, you’re right!” Traynor said. “But I want you to tell him for me that I want that upper parking lot lit just like the lower. In fact, tell him to light it up like a ballfield.”
Traynor then turned back to Robertson. “And why haven’t you been able to find out who this goddamn rapist is, anyway? Considering the size of the town and the number of rapes all presumably by the same person, I’d think you’d have at least one suspect.”
“We’re working on it,” Robertson said.
“Would you like to head over to the tent?” Beaton asked.
“Why not?” Traynor fumed. “At least I’d like to get a few clams out of this.” Traynor took Beaton by the arm and headed for the food.
Traynor was about to get back to the subject of their proposed rendezvous when Caldwell and Cantor spotted them and approached. Caldwell was in a particularly cheerful mood.
“I guess you’ve already heard how well the bonus program is working,” he said to Traynor. “The August figures are encouraging.”
“No, I haven’t heard,” Traynor said, turning to Beaton.
“It’s true,” Beaton said. “I’ll be presenting the stats tonight. The balance sheet is okay. August CMV admissions are down four percent over last August. That’s not a lot, but it’s in the right direction.”
“It’s warming to hear some good news once in a while,” Traynor said. “But we can’t relax. I was talking with Arnsworth on Friday, and he warned me that the red ink will reappear with a vengeance when the tourists leave. In July and August a good portion of the hospital census has been paying patients, not CMV subscribers. Now that it’s past Labor Day, the tourists will be going home. So we cannot afford to relax.”
“I think we should reactivate our strict utilization control,” Beaton said. “It’s our only hope of holding out until the current capitation contract runs out.”
“Of course we have to recommence,” Traynor said. “We don’t have any choice. By the way, for everyone’s information, we have officially changed the name from DUM to DUC. It’s now ‘drastic utilization control.’ ”
Everyone chuckled.
“I have to say I’m disappointed,” Cantor said, still chuckling. “As the architect for the plan I was partial to DUM.” Despite the long, sunny summer his facial pallor had changed very little. The skin on his surprisingly slender legs was paler still. He was wearing bermuda shorts and black socks.