“So she hasn’t been done yet?” said Adam.
“Not yet, but she’s been called for the OR. Dr. Vandermer is almost ready for her.”
Adam fumbled with his coins and dialed the Julian Clinic a third time, this time asking to have Dr. Vandermer paged. An OR nurse picked up and said the doctor was unavailable, but should be done with his current case in thirty minutes.
With renewed panic, Adam called the lawyer that Harvey had recommended, Emmet Redford. Shouting that it was a life-or-death situation, he finally got put through. As briefly as possible, Adam told the lawyer that his wife was going to have an abortion and that he wanted to stop her.
“There’s not much you can do, my friend,” said Mr. Redford. “According to the Supreme Court, a husband cannot block his wife’s abortion.”
“That’s incredible,” said Adam. “It’s my child, too. Isn’t there anything you can do?”
“Well, I might be able to delay it.”
“Do it!” shouted Adam. “Whatever you can!”
“Give me her name and all the particulars,” said Mr. Redford.
Adam did so as quickly as he could.
“When is she scheduled to have the abortion?” asked Mr. Redford.
“In thirty minutes or so,” said Adam desperately.
“Thirty minutes! What do you expect me to do in half an hour?”
“I’ve got to go,” said Adam. “She’s at the Julian Clinic. There’s no time to lose.”
Adam dropped the phone and ran through the terminal to the taxi stand. Leaping into the first cab in line, he yelled for the driver to take him to the Julian Clinic.
“You got money?” the cabbie asked, eyeing Adam’s casual dress.
Adam pulled out his twenty, hoping it would be enough. Satisfied, the man put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.
• • •
Jennifer was lying on a gurney just outside the treatment room. Her mother was standing beside her, and Jennifer was again forcibly reminded of her earlier visit to the Julian with Cheryl. Mrs. Carson was smiling, feigning confidence, but it was clear she was as nervous as her daughter.
“Why don’t you go back to the lounge?” suggested Jennifer. “I’ll be fine. From what Dr. Vandermer says, it’s going to be easy.”
Mrs. Carson glanced at her daughter, undecided as to what she should do.
“Please,” said Jennifer. “Don’t make a big deal out of this. Go back and read a magazine.”
Relenting, Mrs. Carson bent down, kissed Jennifer on her forehead, and headed back toward the lounge. Jennifer watched her go with mixed emotions.
“OK,” said the nurse, emerging from the treatment room. “We’re all ready for you.” She released the brake on the gurney and pushed Jennifer through the door. In contrast to the room where she’d had her amniocentesis, this room looked very much like an OR. Jennifer remembered the white floor and large white glass-fronted cabinets.
Two nurses were waiting. As they moved her to the table, one said, “It will all be over very soon, and you’ll be able to forget the whole episode.”
As she lay back, Jennifer thought she felt the child move. She struggled not to cry as one of the nurses prepped her lower abdomen.
The door to the corridor opened, and Dr. Vandermer came in, dressed in a surgical scrub suit. Jennifer felt better the moment she saw him.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“OK, I guess,” said Jennifer faintly.
Jennifer wanted him to say something else, but he just stared at her with unblinking eyes. She looked questioningly at the nurses, but they didn’t seem to think there was anything odd about his silence. Then Vandermer seemed to come out of his trance and asked the nurses to hand him the anesthetic.
“You’ll just feel a little sting now,” said Dr. Vandermer flatly. With a deft jab he slipped the needle beneath Jennifer’s skin.
Closing her eyes, Jennifer tried also to close her mind to what was about to happen.
• • •
The cab ride from Kennedy Airport to the Julian Clinic was hair-raising. Once Adam had flashed his twenty, the driver acted as if he were in a race for his life. He screeched to a halt in front of the hospital in less than thirty minutes. Adam tossed him the twenty and dashed up the stairs without waiting for change.
Interrupting the girls chatting at the reception desk, he demanded to know where Vandermer was operating.
“He’s performing an abortion on my wife,” he gasped.
“Pregnancy terminations are done on the sixth floor, but . . .”
Adam didn’t wait for her to finish. He ducked into an elevator just as the doors were closing, ignoring the receptionist who yelled after him that he was not allowed to go to six unaccompanied.
When the elevator stopped, Adam got out and made for the double doors at the end of the hall marked “Treatment Rooms.” As he passed the nurses’ station, he noticed the elaborate antique furniture and wondered what the Julian was trying to prove.
One of the nurses yelled for him to stop, but Adam kept running. He went through the double doors and opened the first treatment room door. It was empty. He went on to the next. A nurse tried to bar his way, but he was able to look over her shoulder at the patient’s face. It wasn’t Jennifer.
Adam crossed the hall and tried another door.
“Exactly what do you think you are doing?” asked a nurse with a German accent.
Adam rudely shoved the woman aside. He saw Dr. Vandermer bending over the table. He was holding a hypodermic whose needle sparkled under the overhead light.
“Jennifer!” shouted Adam, relieved that the surgery had proceeded no further than her being given the local anesthetic. “Don’t do it, please. Don’t have the abortion. Not without further tests.”
Jennifer started to sit up as two orderlies rushed through the door and pinned Adam’s arms behind his back. Adam saw that both men had the same unblinking stares as the stewards on the ship.
“OK, OK,” said Adam. “You’ve made your point. You’re stronger than I am. Now kindly let me go.”
“Adam Schonberg?” said Dr. Vandermer. Until he’d heard Adam’s voice, he’d thought they were dealing with a psychotic stranger. “What are you doing here? Jennifer just told me you were out of town.”
“Please don’t go ahead with the procedure. There’s something I must tell you.”
As if suddenly remembering the orderlies, Dr. Vandermer tapped the nearest on the shoulder and said, “I know this man. You can let go of him.” He undid his mask and let it fall on his chest.
The orderlies released Adam as the door to the corridor opened and a number of clinic staff members peered in to see what was happening.
“Everything is under control,” said Dr. Vandermer. Addressing the orderlies, he said, “Why don’t you two wait outside.”
As soon as they left, he guided Adam to a small anteroom, promising Jennifer they would both be back in a minute.
As soon as the door was closed, Adam blurted out, “I managed to get on one of the Arolen cruises.”
Dr. Vandermer stared at him as if just noticing the jeans and St. Thomas tee shirt for the first time. If he knew what Adam was talking about, he gave no indication.
“I’m happy you got to go,” was all he said. “We can compare notes later. Right now I need to take care of your wife. Why don’t you go down to the lounge and wait for me? I won’t be long.”
“But you don’t understand,” said Adam. “The Arolen cruises are more than continuing education sessions. They’re a cover for an elaborate behavior-modification scheme.”
Dr. Vandermer debated what to do. Adam was obviously psychotic. Maybe he could persuade him to go over to Psychiatry, where someone with experience could help him. Taking a step forward, Dr. Vandermer put his arm around Adam’s shoulder. “I think the person you should be talking with is Dr. Pace. Why don’t we go downstairs and I’ll introduce you to him?”
Adam pushed Dr. Va
ndermer’s arm away. “I don’t think you heard what I said. I’m talking about drug-induced behavior modification. Dr. Vandermer, you were a victim. You were drugged. Do you understand me?”
Dr. Vandermer sighed. “Adam, I know you believe what you are saying, but I was not drugged on my cruise. I gave lectures. It was a delightful time, as were the days I spent in Puerto Rico.”
“I saw it all,” said Adam. “I was on the Fjord. I saw how they drugged the doctors’ food and kept giving them yellow pills. Then they were subjected to these films. It was mind control. Look, you’ve got to believe me. Think. Why did you change your mind about pregdolen? Before you went on the cruise, you thought the drug was unsafe. You told me you’d never prescribe it.”
“I’ve never changed my mind about pregdolen,” protested Dr. Vandermer. “I’ve always thought it was the best product on the market if one were forced to use medication for morning sickness.”
Realizing he was making no headway, Adam grabbed Dr. Vandermer’s hand. Looking directly into the doctor’s eyes, he said, “Please, even if you don’t believe me, please don’t abort my child. I think the lab mixup that occurred with the amniocentesis slides was deliberate. I think Arolen is trying to increase its supply of fetal tissue, and this is how it is done.”
The door to the room opened.
“Dr. Vandermer,” said the nurse in the doorway, “what are we to do?”
Dr. Vandermer waved her away.
“Adam,” he said kindly, “I can appreciate how upset you must be with the way things have turned out.”
“Don’t be condescending,” warned Adam as he rubbed his eyes. “All I want is to delay the abortion. That’s all. I don’t think that’s asking too much.”
“It depends from whose point of view you’re talking about.” He pointed toward the treatment room. “Jennifer might feel differently. To delay at this point would be cruel for her. She’s already been through more than enough.”
Adam realized he was losing the battle. Desperately, he sought some way to get through to the doctor.
“Now,” Vandermer said firmly. “Why don’t you go down to the lounge and wait. I’ll be there shortly.”
“No,” shouted Adam, blocking the way. “You haven’t heard everything.”
“Adam!” shouted Dr. Vandermer. “Move out of my way or I’ll be forced to have you removed.”
“Listen, I think some of the people running the cruise have had psychosurgery. I’m telling you the truth. They had scars on the sides of their heads. Right here.” Adam reached out to touch the spot he meant on Vandermer’s head. When he did, he jumped back in horror. Tiny ridged lines were on either side of the doctor’s skull. Adam could just see the healing incisions. Dr. Vandermer reacted angrily.
“This has gone far enough.” He opened the door and motioned for the two orderlies to take Adam away. “Please show Mr. Schonberg down to the lounge. He can wait there if he behaves himself, but if he gives you any trouble, call Psychiatry.”
Adam put up his hands. “I won’t cause any trouble,” he said softly. The last thing he wanted was to be given some kind of tranquilizer. He realized that if Vandermer had undergone some sort of psychosurgery, there was no way he could be persuaded of Arolen’s treachery.
“May I speak to my wife?” he said.
Dr. Vandermer eyed Adam for a moment and then shook his head. “I don’t think it is in Jennifer’s best interests, but I will let her make the decision.”
He opened the door to the treatment room and stepped inside. Jennifer pushed herself up on her elbow. “What is happening?” she asked anxiously.
Dr. Vandermer briefly described his scene with Adam, ending with Adam’s request to talk with her. “He seems to have been unable to deal with the stress of your pregnancy” was the only thing Vandermer had to offer by way of an opinion.
“Well, he certainly hasn’t made the situation any easier for me,” said Jennifer. “I’m sorry he’s caused you so much trouble.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” said Dr. Vandermer. “I think we should get on with the procedure. You can deal with Adam when we are done.”
Jennifer nodded. “Why did he have to come back? You’re right. I don’t think I can handle Adam just now. Why don’t you just go ahead while I’m still in control?”
Dr. Vandermer smiled reassuringly and motioned for the nurse to begin setting up again. Then he returned to the anteroom and told Adam that Jennifer would speak to him afterward.
Adam realized there was no use in protesting further. Numbly, he followed the orderlies down the corridor.
Dr. Vandermer rescrubbed and went back into the treatment room. Picking up the hypodermic, he gave Jennifer the local anesthetic. He was just about to begin the procedure when the door opened again.
“Dr. Vandermer, I’m afraid you’ll have to hold up on this case.”
Jennifer opened her eyes. Standing at the door was a stocky woman dressed in a scrub suit. Jennifer didn’t recognize her, but Dr. Vandermer did. It was Helen Clark, director of the ORs at the Julian Clinic.
“We have just been served with an emergency restraining order. We cannot proceed with Jennifer Schonberg’s abortion.”
“On what grounds?” asked an astonished Dr. Vandermer.
“I don’t know the details,” said Mrs. Clark, “but it is signed by a New York Supreme Court judge.”
Dr. Vandermer shrugged and turned back to Jennifer.
“Don’t do anything foolish,” warned Mrs. Clark. “Defying a court order would get us all in trouble.”
“This is ridiculous,” said Dr. Vandermer. “Litigation in the operating room.” But he took off his mask and gloves.
Seeing that he was about to leave, Jennifer bit down on her lower lip to keep from screaming.
• • •
After Vandermer had thrown him out of the treatment room, Adam had immediately phoned Emmet Redford. The lawyer told him that he’d called in an old favor and had gotten a restraining order. It was on its way to the clinic as they spoke. Adam went back to the lounge, praying that the papers would be served in time. Seeing Mrs. Carson bent over a magazine, he took a chair out of her line of vision.
Less than five minutes later a nurse hurried over to Mrs. Carson. She bent and whispered something to the older woman who then threw up her hands and cried, “Her abortion has been canceled!”
Adam felt like cheering until he heard Jennifer’s sobs as she was wheeled down the corridor. He and Mrs. Carson both ran over to her and ended up standing on opposite sides of the gurney.
“Jennifer,” said Adam, grasping her hand. “Everything is going to be all right.”
She wrenched her hand away, crying hysterically, “Leave me alone. You’ve gone crazy. Leave me alone.”
Adam stepped away and sadly watched the gurney continue down the corridor.
“Are you responsible for this disaster?” sputtered Mrs. Carson.
Adam was too upset to answer. Was it a disaster to prevent an unnecessary abortion? Close to tears himself, he turned and walked blindly to the elevator. Once out on the street, he checked his wallet. Only three dollars and some change left. He decided he’d better take the subway to Emmet Redford’s Fifth Avenue office.
“Sorry about my clothes,” said Adam when the secretary ushered him in. “I didn’t want to waste any time going home to change.”
Mr. Redford nodded, although he was disturbed by Adam’s appearance. In fact, he was disturbed by the whole case. Though he’d arranged for the restraining order, he felt Adam’s claims were dubious at best, especially in light of the information he’d just received from the assistant he had assigned the case to.
“I think I should be frank,” Redford began. “I agreed to help out as a favor to Harvey, but there are a number of points that seriously trouble me.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Adam. “I think the Julian Clinic is deliberately doing unnecessary abortions.”
“I see,” said Redfor
d, taking in Adam’s unkempt hair and unshaven face.
“But the real problem,” continued Adam, “is that Arolen Pharmaceuticals and its parent company, MTIC, have an elaborate program involving drugs and even brain surgery to influence the way doctors practice medicine.”
This man is nuts, thought Redford with dismay.
Adam’s voice became more urgent. “But now that I’ve learned all this,” he said, “I don’t know what to do about it.”
“I can understand your dilemma,” said Redford, wondering if Adam were potentially violent. He certainly seemed excitable. Redford pressed a concealed button under his desk and said, “Mr. Schonberg, do you mind if I ask a personal question?”
“Not at all,” said Adam.
“Have you ever sought professional help for your obsessions? I think that might be in everyone’s best interest.”
“What I’m telling you is true,” protested Adam.
There was a soft knock on the door. Redford got up to open it and told his secretary to ask Mr. Stupenski to join them. “I’m afraid a grand jury wouldn’t give much credence to your allegations,” he said to Adam while they waited.
Adam searched the lawyer’s face for some hint that the man believed him. There was none.
“I guess you’re right,” admitted Adam. “The only proof I have is what I saw.”
The door opened again and a young man wearing a pin-striped suit identical to Redford’s came into the room.
“This is my associate, Mr. Stupenski,” said Redford.
Adam said hello and then tried once more to convince Redford that his story was true. “They drug the food on the cruises and supplement those doses with yellow pills that have to be some kind of tranquilizer.”
“So you say, Mr. Schonberg, but the problem is you have no proof,” repeated Redford.
The lawyers exchanged knowing glances. Adam stared at them in frustration.
“I think I should tell you that given the amniocentesis report that the clinic showed Mr. Stupenski, I’m sorry we went about getting the restraining order,” said Redford. “As it is, it remains in force only until the emergency hearing three days from now, and since I’m certainly not going to argue for the motion, you can expect it will be rescinded at that time. Good day, Mr. Schonberg.”