‘Yes?’
‘You’re very kind to come here at this hour. Marshall and I are very grateful.’
Laura nodded and continued down the stairs without another word.
She climbed back in her car, folded her arms across the steering wheel, and leaned her forehead on them.
‘Jesus Christ,’ she muttered. ‘Why the hell do I stick my chin out like this?’
She could still hear the painful, wounding words, ‘If it were your own kid.’
As she started the car and began driving down the road, an Armageddon of thoughts raged in her mind.
But she did not, as part of her wanted to, drive a hundred miles an hour off a bridge.
45
Barney tried to reason with her.
‘Castellano, I’ve told you a hundred times, you’re caught up in a very sick situation. Where’s your confidence? Don’t you think you deserve a full-time relationship?’
‘He says he loves me, Barn,’ she protested weakly.
‘I’m sure he does – in his own way. He probably regards you as the romantic equivalent of fast food. The real problem is that you don’t love yourself. Why don’t you talk to a shrink about it?’
‘Like Andrew Himmerman?’ she asked facetiously. ‘Then I could have my analysis and my social life in the same hour.’
‘Don’t be snide,’ he objected, ‘Grete’s given you a distorted vision of the guy.’
‘Now I know you’ve joined The Establishment,’ she retorted, ‘sticking up for another member of your club.’
Barney longed to tell her about his meeting with Himmerman and the true version of the ‘seduction’ of Grete. But he couldn’t. It had been a professional confidence. So he closed the discussion by saying, ‘I’ll get you a good name, Laura.’
‘Fine. Be sure he’s blond. It takes one to understand one.’
She hung up feeling satisfied she had won the debate. But was it really a debate? Wasn’t her best friend only looking out for her best interests?
She suppressed an impulse to call him back. Instead, she phoned Marshall, who was working late in his lab.
He was happy to hear her voice. ‘I was really feeling low,’ he confessed. ‘Let’s connect in half an hour.’
There, Laura thought to herself, he needs me. He wants me. Ergo, he loves me. Isn’t that all that really matters?
It had been a terrible day for Marshall. Not only had the department secretary called in sick with yet another of her psychosomatic illnesses (‘I think she reads The Merck Manual in her spare time,’ Laura once joked), but he had also been summoned to Donny’s school because his younger son had been ‘clowning around again.’
And to aggravate his already bad humor, he had returned to the lab to find that the afternoon mail did not contain the urgently awaited proofs of the Rhodes-Karvonen article that would trumpet their breakthrough achievement to the scientific world.
And so, unable to concentrate, he drove to the tennis club, purchased an hour of the pro’s time, and pounded the poor bastard to smithereens. But when he went home to have dinner with the boys, he was still incapable of suppressing his frustration.
Donny was right on target when he complained, ‘Daddy, it’s no fun when you’re angry all the time. Couldn’t we just eat with Mrs Henderson?’
Great, great. He was striking out on all fronts today. Claire was asleep when he went up to see her, and she seemed unlikely to wake till morning. And thus, feeling otherwise useless, he had returned to his lab. But there was no one else in microbiology, which was yet more dispiriting.
A little after ten his phone rang. It was Laura.
‘Listen,’ he suggested, ‘let’s meet in the parking lot and go for a drive.’
She readily agreed.
Marshall went to the bathroom, washed his face, checked his hair in the mirror – and then started for the stairway. When he reached the landing he looked down the corridor. There were lights in the director’s office. He decided to say goodnight to Rhodes. It might even win him some Brownie points for working late.
He knocked on the wooden frame of the glass-paneled door. There was no answer. He knocked again, and then tried the knob and found the door was open. He walked in hesitantly, calling softly, ‘Paul? Are you here? It’s me – Marshall. Anybody home?’
He looked at the director’s inner office. Every light was on and there were papers strewn across the desk. Rhodes must have just stepped out for a breath of air. He would wait a bit.
He could not resist the temptation to sit in the director’s chair – which he was hoping to make his own in another year. Besides, even if Paul found him with his tennis sneakers up on his desk, Marshall knew his elder colleague had a sense of humor. Indeed, theirs had been almost a father-son relationship.
He sat on the throne and leaned back, thinking to himself. Hello, peons, this is your new director, King Jaffe, about to begin my thirty-year rule. Anyone who wishes may come kiss my Stanford graduation ring.
He savored the fantasy. What would come after that, he wondered? Perhaps a phone call from the White House – or the U.N.? Perhaps an invitation to appear before Congress. Rhodes had gotten lots of those.
I wonder what he’s working on tonight? Temptation triumphed and he allowed himself to take a closer look.
And he was glad he did. For there atop Paul’s desk were galley proofs from the New England Journal of Medicine – the ones that should have reached Marshall that day.
He picked up a sheet and tried to find the paragraph or two that he had written. God, he thought, my name is somewhere in this landmark article.
His passion now aroused, he rummaged through the galleys for the title page. It took him several minutes till he found it, face down on the desk. Somewhere after Rhodes and Karvonen (or Karvonen and Rhodes – he knew they were squabbling over this) his name would be inscribed, recording his modest assistance.
He leaned back in the chair and took a breath. The article was on page one of the journal. Its simple title belied its great importance. ‘The Use of Bio-Engineering in the Destruction of Oncogenes: A New Approach.’
And there it was. Sandwiched in between Asher Isaacs and James P. Lowell: ‘Marshall Jaffe, M.D., Ph.D.’
He gazed at the letters, savoring a moment of intoxicating self-congratulation.
Then he noticed something. Sirii Takalo’s name was missing. And where was Jaako Fredricksen – with whom he’d spent many a long Finnish night getting smashed on pöytäviina? Shit, Jaako had been on the project longer than he had. Rumor had it that he was Karvonen’s heir apparent – an honor he richly deserved, since his boss could never have charted the structure had not Jaako been his navigator.
In fact, if one judged by these galleys, Finland did not exist – at least in academic medicine. For even the name of Toivo Karvonen, founding father of the whole project, appeared nowhere.
At first Marshall simply could not accept the fact that Rhodes, a man he so respected, was capable of such gross professional misconduct. But there was no other explanation.
The sonovabitch was trying to steal the ball and run for a touchdown on his own.
Suddenly he heard footsteps. Paul was on his way back. Shake ass, Marshall, he thought. Put the galleys down and turn the tittle page back over. Get the hell as far as you can from the desk.
His tennis reflexes paid off. By the time Rhodes opened the office door, Marshall was standing at the wall, admiring the photographs of his boss with various immortals.
‘Well, Marsh,’ the director said genially, ‘what brings you here so late?’
‘I had a lousy day, Paul,’ he answered with a hoarseness in his voice.
‘Want to sit and talk about it?’
‘No, thanks. That’s very kind—’
‘It’s all right, I’ve got nothing pressing. Is it Claire’s condition?’ he asked sympathetically.
‘No, no. She’s pretty stable at the moment. Uh – I don’t know if you noticed, but I wasn’t he
re all afternoon.’
‘Oh, come on, Marshall, we don’t punch time clocks here. Was it something to do with the boys?’
Marshall nodded. ‘Yes. The principal says Donny’s misbehaving. Thinks it’s probably reaction to – you know – the situation.’ Marshall let his voice trail off. ‘I’m sorry, Paul, Laura’s waiting for me in the parking lot right now. I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Good,’ the director said, smiling. ‘Go and relax a bit.’
‘You, too,’ Marshall answered, ‘and don’t work too hard.’
Laura was running her car heater at full blast to keep warm.
‘Jaffe, I was going to give you another two minutes. What the hell took you so long?’
‘Hey, Laura, listen,’ he said in a strange tone of voice, ‘I’ve got to talk to someone.’
‘Did you have anyone particular in mind?’
‘Hey, this is serious. I really need your advice.’
‘Then I advise going to my place and opening up some Emerald Dry.’
He shrugged and shook his head like a zombie. ‘Would you mind if I left my car here and drove with you?’
‘Sure, Marsh, climb in and start talking.’
Laura was so staggered that she had trouble concentrating on the road.
‘Christ,’ she said, ‘maybe every doctor is something of an egomaniac at heart.’
‘I know I am,’ Marshall offered, ‘but God knows, I’m not a kleptomaniac. I mean, Toivo’s research was fundamental to the project. He came with the oncogene practically deciphered – and they worked together on the antibody. Paul is not just screwing the guy’s career, he’s screwing up the poor bastard’s life!’
‘I agree,’ Laura commented. ‘The only question now is what you can do about it.’
They rode on in silence until Marshall untangled a strand from his web of thoughts,
‘You realize if I blow the whistle on Rhodes I’m as good as dead at NIH.’
‘I know,’ she said quietly.
‘I mean, not just in Washington. He’s so wired-in he could short-circuit me at every university in the country. He even goes on lecture tours to Australia every summer – which means I’ll be guano there, too.’
Laura held fire till they neared her apartment.
‘Marsh, I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that this would be kamikaze heroism. But what Rhodes is doing reflects badly not only on the Institutes, but on every scientist in this country. You’ve got to stop him somehow.’
‘At the price of committing professional suicide? Of totally destroying my own chance for Stockholm some day? Laura, I’ve got two kids and a sick wife. Unemployment won’t even pay for Mrs Henderson.’
She looked at him and demanded, ‘What exactly do you want me to say?’
‘Laura,’ he said earnestly, ‘I respect your opinion more than anybody else’s in the world. If you were in my place, what would you do?’
She answered quietly, ‘I think I’d blow the whistle on him, Marsh.’
As they walked up the stairs to her apartment, he asked, ‘Laura, haven’t you ever compromised to save your skin?’
‘No, at least I don’t think so.’
‘What about that dead baby in Toronto?’
‘I raised hell with the chiefs of service,’ she answered proudly.
‘But you didn’t tell the mother, did you?’
Laura paused at the door. He was right. She had told the captain, but she hadn’t rocked the boat. Nobody ever sued the hospital for that inexcusable error – and coverup.
‘You’re right,’ she confessed. ‘Besides, you’ve got your family to think of. Why not simply call Toivo and let him decide what to do? After all, it’s his problem.’
Marshall checked his watch. ‘It’s nearly midnight. That would be almost seven in the morning in Helsinki. He’ll be in his lab in another hour.’
They sat in the kitchen without talking, growing increasingly impatient as they watched the hands on the clock move toward 1 A.M.
At last it was time to call. Laura glanced at Marshall. He rose, took a deep breath to calm himself. And then he carefully dialed the fourteen digits.
‘Hello, this is Marshall Jaffe in Washington. I’m—’
‘Don’t tell me,’ the Finn interrupted, ‘I can guess why you are calling. I’m angry as hell myself.’
‘What’s that?’ Marshall asked, somewhat confused.
‘You’re calling about the galleys, aren’t you?’
‘Uh – yes.’
‘Then you haven’t got them either, eh? I was planning to call that pompous editor at Harvard and give him glory Hallelujah!’
‘I wouldn’t if I were you.’ Marshall cautioned nervously. ‘I mean, I’ve already contacted the guy and I’m – getting a set this afternoon.’
‘What caused the delay? Didn’t they find this important enough? For heaven’s sake, I could make one phone call to London and The Lancet would take it on my word alone.’
‘I know, Toivo, I know. But there’s a little problem—’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Uh – actually, I’ve had a look at the galleys – at least the first page …’
‘Yes?’
Marshall gazed helplessly at Laura as if to say, Can I really go through with this? Then he steeled himself and blurted into the phone, ‘There are no Finns listed, Toivo.’
‘What – is this some kind of joke?’
‘I sure as hell wish it was – but a few hours ago I got a look at the only extant copy of the galleys. There’s no authorship credit for anybody in your Institute – including you.’
There was another pause. This time because the eminent scientist in Meilahti Hospital was himself at a loss for words.
Professor Toivo Karvonen had been a scientist all his life, and as such, drew conclusions only from empirical data. And the statement he had just heard seemed unfounded – not to mention incredible.
‘Marshall, I’ve known Paul for more than twenty years. He’s such a brilliant fellow – why on earth would he try something so stupid?’
‘For God’s sake, Toivo, I’m putting my own head on the block. Do you think I’d be calling if I hadn’t seen the proofs with my own eyes?’
Karvonen’s reaction surprised Marshall.
‘Dear me,’ he whispered like a disapproving parent discovering his child had misbehaved. Marshall had expected a cascade of epithets in a multitude of languages. But there was none. Just a soft and sincere expression of gratitude.
‘Marshall, this was very brave of you. I know the risk you are taking. Is there something I can do for you in return?’
‘Well,’ he responded, not at all in jest, ‘I may be asking you for a job. Anyway, I’m sorry I had to tell you this. What are you going to do?’
The Finn remained calm.
‘Listen, I need a little time to work things out. It must be very late for you. Get some sleep and I’ll ring you at a decent hour.’
‘Uh – not at the Institutes, Toivo. I think that would be a little dangerous.’
‘I agree. May I call you at home?’
Marshall looked at Laura.
‘Actually, I’m staying with a friend. It would be better if you called her.’ Then he quickly added, ‘I mean, she’s another doctor, a colleague at NIH—’
‘No need to explain,’ Karvonen replied sympathetically, ‘I know about your situation. Now get some rest. Hyvästi.’
Marshall hung up and, arm around Laura’s shoulders, walked into the living room. He sat down on the couch, leaned his head back, and mumbled, ‘Oh, Christ. You’re looking at a soon-to-be-totally-blackballed scientist. Do you think your friend Milton would give me a job in his deli?’
‘Lets take one step at a time,’ she replied and bent down over him to pull off his loafers.
‘What the hell are you doing? Laura, I’m in panic on the verge of hyperventilation. You surely don’t want to –’
‘Hey, relax, Marshall. I j
ust want you to get some sleep. You’re going to have a rough day tomorrow.’
She lifted his feet onto the couch.
‘Laura,’ he said, already curling up, ‘it’s going to be a rough day for me for the next thirty years.’ As he reached up to kiss her, he murmured, ‘God, Laura, I don’t know what the hell I’d do without you.’
You’d probably be better off, she said to herself, already having second thoughts about encouraging him to be a hero.
She looked down at him. He was fast asleep.
46
When she awoke, Marshall was already pacing the living room floor.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
‘Sure – apart from being freaked, frantic, and totally catatonic, I’m perfectly okay,’ he replied.
She put her arms around him. ‘Stay loose, Jaffe,’ she murmured. ‘Justice will triumph.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘I believe in you,’ she replied, trying to camouflage her own anxiety.
At which point he was bolstered enough to act. ‘Listen, I’ve got to make a guest appearance at my own house and then spread myself around the Institute and make sure everybody sees my innocent face.’
He then looked at her sheepishly and asked, ‘Do you mind waiting here in case Toivo calls?’
‘What about showing my innocent face?’
‘Don’t sweat, Laura,’ he reassured her. ‘Nobody has the slightest idea that you know about this. You can call in sick or something. If you get any important news from Toivo, drive to my office and we’ll take a walk.’
‘Marshall, I’m scared,’ she confessed.
‘That’s two of us. I’m already regretting my George Washington performance – I mean, it was Karvonen’s cherry tree, anyway. If I can find a safe phone, I’ll try and give you a ring.’
He squeezed her shoulders affectionately, and started off. Then he stopped abruptly, turned, and said, ‘If I forgot to say I love you last night, I’m saying it now.’
Then he was gone, now leaving Laura to pace back and forth like a worried father outside the delivery room.