Will she be alive tomorrow?
The following afternoon, David went to the garage in the basement of the building where Dr. Patterson had his offices. An attendant was parking cars.
He came up to David. “May I help you?”
“I’m waiting for my wife,” David said. “She’s seeing Dr. Patterson.”
The attendant smiled. “He’s a great guy.”
“He was telling us about some fancy car that he owns.” David paused, trying to remember. “Was it a Cadillac?”
The attendant shook his head. “Naw.” He pointed to a Rolls-Royce parked in the corner. “It’s that Rolls over there.”
David said, “Right. I think he said he has a Cadillac, too.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” the attendant said. He hurried off to park an incoming car.
David walked casually toward the Rolls. When he was sure no one was watching, he opened the door, slipped into the backseat and got down on the floor. He lay there, cramped and uncomfortable, willing Dr. Patterson to come out.
At 6:15, David felt a slight jar as the front door of the car opened and someone moved into the driver’s seat. He heard the engine start, and then the car began to move.
“Good night, Dr. Patterson.”
“Good night, Marco.”
The car left the garage, and David felt it turn a corner. He waited for two minutes, then took a deep breath and sat up.
Dr. Patterson saw him in the rearview mirror. He said calmly, “If this is a holdup, I have no cash with me.”
“Turn onto a side street and pull over to the curb.”
Dr. Patterson nodded. David watched warily as the doctor turned the car onto a side street, pulled over to the curb and stopped.
“I’ll give you what cash I have on me,” Dr. Patterson said. “You can take the car. There’s no need for violence. If—”
David had slid into the front seat. “This isn’t a holdup. I don’t want the car.”
Dr. Patterson was looking at him with annoyance. “What the hell do you want?”
“My name is Singer. My mother’s dying. I want you to save her.”
There was a flicker of relief on Dr. Patterson’s face, replaced by a look of anger.
“Make an appointment with my—”
“There’s no time to make a goddamn appointment.” David was yelling. “She’s going to die, and I’m not going to let that happen.” He was fighting to control himself. “Please. The other doctors told me you’re the only hope we have.”
Dr. Patterson was watching him, still wary. “What’s her problem?”
“She has a—a ruptured cord in her mitral valve. The doctors are afraid to operate. They say that you’re the only one who can save her life.”
Dr. Patterson shook his head. “My schedule—”
“I don’t give a shit about your schedule! This is my mother. You’ve got to save her! She’s all I have…”
There was a long silence. David sat there, his eyes tightly shut. He heard Dr. Patterson’s voice.
“I won’t promise a damn thing, but I’ll see her. Where is she?”
David turned to look at him. “She’s in the intensive care unit at San Francisco Memorial Hospital.”
“Meet me there at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
David had difficulty finding his voice. “I don’t know how to—”
“Remember, I’m not promising anything. And I don’t appreciate being scared out of my wits, young man. Next time, try the telephone.”
David sat there, rigid.
Dr. Patterson looked at him. “What?”
“There’s another problem.”
“Oh, really?”
“I—I don’t have any money. I’m a law student, and I’m working my way through law school.”
Dr. Patterson was staring at him.
David said passionately, “I swear I’ll find a way to pay you back. If it takes all my life, I’ll see that you get paid. I know how expensive you are, and I—”
“I don’t think you do, son.”
“I have no one else to turn to, Dr. Patterson. I—I’m begging you.
There was another silence.
“How many years of law school have you had?”
“None. I’m just starting.”
“But you expect to be able to pay me back?”
“I swear it.”
“Get the hell out.”
When David got home, he was certain he was going to be picked up by the police for kidnapping, threatening bodily harm, God only knew what. But nothing happened. The question in his mind was whether Dr. Patterson was going to show up at the hospital.