“What do you mean by ‘relatively young women’T’ Cyrill asked.
“Late twenties, early to mid-thirties,” Marissa answered.
“That’s a little old for a pediatrician to be treating,” Cyril] said.
“How have these cases come to your attention?”
Marissa smiled.
“I should have known I couldn’t be cagey with you, Cyrill,” she said.
“The fact of the matter is that I’m one of the infected. I’ve been involved with in-vitro fertilization for almost a year. Tonight I discovered three other women with the same unusual diagnosis.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your troubles,” Cyrill said.
“But I haven’t heard anything about TB; salpingitis in the usual CDC gossip. What I can do is ask over in bacteriology. If there has been anything at all, they’d be sure to have heard. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
After appropriate goodbyes, Marissa hung up. Following a slight pause, she asked Wendy what she thought of calling Rebecca
Ziegler’s number.
Wendy looked at her watch.
“I’m not sure I’d have the emotional fortitude,” she said.
“Besides, it’s after ten.”
“I think it’s worth the risk,” Marissa said with determination.
She got the number out and dialed. The line rang seven times before someone finally picked up. Loud music could be heard in the background. It sounded like a party.
Marissa asked if she had reached the Ziegler residence.
“Just a minute,” the voice at the other end said. Marissa and Wendy could hear the man yell to others to “pipe down a sec.”
Then he came back on the line.
“Are you Rebecca Ziegler’s husband?” Marissa asked.
“I was,” the man said.
“Who is this?”
“I’m Dr. Blumenthal,” Marissa. said.
“I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time. I got your number from Resolve, the organization for infertile couples. Are you familiar with it?”
“Yeah,” the man said.
“What’s up?”
“If it wouldn’t be too much of a bother,” Marissa said, “I’d like to ask a personal question about Rebecca’s condition.”
“Is this some kind of crank call?” the man asked. There was a sudden burst of laughter in the background.
“No,” Marissa said.
“I can assure you it isn’t. I just wanted to ask if Rebecca’s problem had anything to do with her fallopian tubeS. those are the tubes that transport the eggs to the uterus.”
11 kin w what fallopian tubes are,” the man said.
“Just a minute,” Then to his guests, the man yelled: “Come on, you guys, shut up! I can’t hear!” Coming back on the line he apologized for the commotion.
“My friends,” he explained.
“They’re a bunch of animals.”
“About Rebecca?” Marissa questioned, rolling her eyes for Wendy’s benefit.
“Yeah,” the man said.
“She had blocked tubes.”
“Do you happen to know how they became blockedT’Marissa persisted.
“I just know they were blocked. More than that, you’ll have to ask her doctor.” There was a crash in the background, and the shatter of broken glass.
“Jesus!” the man said.
“Hey, I gotta go.”
Then the line went dead.
Marissa pushed the disconnect button.
They stared at each other. Finally Wendy broke the silence.
“So much for the grieving widower.”
“At least we don’t have to feel guilty about calling,” Marissa said.
“And she had blocked tubes. I think it will be worth looking into the cause. If by any chance her tubes were blocked in the same way as ours, it could put a whole new spin on this affair.”
Wendy nodded.
“Wait a second!” Marissa cried.
“What’s the matter?” Wendy asked.
“We forgot to ask those other two women where they are being treated. I know Rebecca was at the Women’s Clinic.”
“You have their numbers,” Wendy said.
“Give them a call.”
Marissa quickly dialed. Both women were available and both gave the same answer: they were being treated at the Women’s Clinic.
“This is getting interesting,” Wendy said.
“That’s an understatement,” Marissa said.
“I think we’d better make a visit to the Women’s Clinic, the sooner the better. Like tomorrow morning. Are you with me?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Wendy said.
“Hello,” a voice called. Both Marissa’s and Wendy’s eyes were drawn to the doorway. It was Robert, dressed in a V-necked ‘sweater, tan chinos, and loafers without socks. His reading glasses were in his hand.