“You tried to restrain her before she jumped?”
“Nothing so dramatic,” Robert said.
“She was about to attack a receptionist. Seems the receptionist wouldn’t let her see her records. It wasn’t until later that she jumped out of the window.
And that was from the top floor, not the waiting room.”
Gustave nodded.
“Tragic case,” he said.
“It may be more tragic than you think,” Marissa blurted without thinking.
“Wendy and I learned something else today. Rebecca
Ziegler might not have committed suicide. She might have been murdered. That’s how reasonable, ethical, and legal the Women’s Clinic is being run.”
As soon as Marissa had mentioned this shocking possibility she regretted it. There were a number of reasons she shouldn’i have said anything, her promise to Ken foremost among them.
She tried to change the subject to tuberculosis, but Robert wouldn’t let it go.
“I think you’d better explain,” he insisted.
Realizing her mistake, Marissa decided she had no choice but to tell the whole story. After she’d finished, Robert sat back in his chair and looked at Gustave.
“You’re a doctor,” he said.
“What do you think of what you just heard?”
“Circumstantial,” Gustave said.
“Personally, I think those two pathologists are letting their forensic imaginations run wild. As they said themselves, there is no concrete proof. They have a ruptured aorta. That certainly is lethal. Probably the heart was in diastole at the moment of impact, so that it was filling when it was shocked into stopping. The only bleeding came from back flow, meaning the blood that was in the aorta itself.”
“Sounds reasonable to me,” Robert said.
“Gustave is probably right,” Marissa agreed, glad to get off the subject. She wasn’t about to bring up her own question regarding the fact that Rebecca had hardly acted depressed in the waiting room.
“Even so,” Marissa continued, “Rebecca’s death makes us even more eager to access the Women’s Clinic’s computer. I’d love to read what’s in her record; what she saw had to contribute to her death.”
“Maybe we could find some whiz-kid hacker over at MIT,” Wendy said.
“It would be classic if we could get at their files from offsite.”
“That would be fantastic,” Marissa agreed.
“But what’s more realistic is for you and me to sneak in there at night and just use one of the terminals. Someone could do that at the Memorial with only a little creativity.”
“Hold on,” Robert said.
“You guys are getting way out of hand. Unauthorized access of someone’s private computer files is considered grand theft in Massachusetts. If you do something crazy like that, you could find yourselves felons.”
Marissa rolled her eyes.
“That’s no joke,” Robert said.
“I don’t know what’s in your minds.”
“Wendy and I happen to think this TB salpingitis is extremely significant,” Marissa told him.
“We think it ought to be followed up. We seem to be the only ones willing to do it. Sometimes risks have to be taken.”
Gustave cleared his throat.
“I’m afraid I’m in agreement with
Robert on this one,” he said.
“You can’t be serious about breaking into the clinic files. Despite your motivations, it would be a crime nonetheless.”
“The problem is truly one of priorities,” Marissa said.
“You men don’t realize how important this issue could be. By following up on it we are being responsible, not the reverse.”
“Maybe we should change the subject,” Wendy suggested.
“I think it should be settled before you women get into serious trouble,” Gustave said.
“Be quiet, Gustave!” Wendy snapped.
“These five cases may be the tip of an iceberg,” Marissa said.
“As I’ve already said, it reminds me of the discovery of toxic shock syndrome.”
“That’s not a fair comparison,” Robert said.
“It’s not like anyone’s died.”
“Oh yeah?” Marissa challenged.
“What about Rebecca Ziegler?”
March 30, 1990
8:15 A.M.
Robert opened the mahogany-paneled door to his private office in the old City Hall building and stepped inside. He tossed his briefcase onto the couch and stepped over to the window. His view out onto School Street was marred by rivulets of water streaming across the outside of the window. He’d never experienced such a rainy March in Boston.