F Paul Wilson - Novel 02 (23 page)

 
          
He
gripped her chin and gently turned her head back and forth.

 
          
Reflexively
her hand fluttered up to cover the area of the surgery.

 
          
Duncan
gently pulled the hand away and pressed it
against her hip.

 
          
"No
need to do that anymore, Kanesha." The thick, stiff wad of scar tissue
that had held the left side of her mouth prisoner was gone. In its place were a
pair of healing hairline incisions and a normal-looking angle of the mouth.
Duncan
was pleased. But now the most important
test.

 
          
'"Smile
for me, Kanesha." Again the hand came up and covered that corner of her
mouth. She looked at her mother. Her expression said, Get me out of here.

 
          
"C'mon,
Neesh, " said her mother. "Smile for Dr. Duncan."
Duncan
pulled the child's hand down again and
stood her on the chair.

 
          
He
turned her toward the mirror on the wall.

 
          
'"Look
at that girl in there," he said. "What do you think of her?"

           
Kanesha stared at herself in
silence for a moment, then leaned forward for a closer look. Her left hand came
up again, this time not to cover, but to touch, to confirm that what she saw
was real.

 
          
Duncan
watched her, waiting for a smile. And the
smile was important.

 
          
Kanesha's
had been a tougher piece of surgery than he'd anticipated. The scarring had
gone deeper than usual, not only had he had to free up all the subcutaneous
layers, but he'd had to do a partial reconstruction of the perioral
musculature. A smile was the only way he'd know how successful he'd been.

 
          
"Well?"
he said. "Don't keep me in suspense, little girl. Has Kaneshe Green got something
to smile about or not?" He poked a wiggling finger into her flank,
tickling her.

           
She giggled, and with that giggle
came a smile. An enormous smile, bright, even, symmetrical.

 
          
She
stopped giggling and stared. The smile faltered for a heartbeat as she leaned
forward, her eyes wide, then it returned full force.

 
          
She
turned to
Duncan
, grinning, joy and wonder dancing in her
dark eyes. Her mother burst into tears and reached for her daughter, but
Kanesha did the unexpected. She leaned - forward, threw her arms around
Duncan
's neck, and hugged him. An instant later
her sobbing mother had her arms . around
Duncan
as well.

 
          
"Oh,
thank you, Dr. Duncan! Thank you so much!" This was getting a mite sticky.

 
          
"Now,
now, ladies, ' he said, extricating himself from the tangle of limbs.
"We've made a big jump, but we're not finished yet."

           
"Not finished?" the
mother said, wiping her eyes. "She's beautiful!"

           
"Of course she is. But she's
not fully grown yet. And some scarring might redevelop in the deeper tissues.
In a few years I may want to do one more procedure, to make her perfect."

 
          
"She
looks perfect now! Oh, Dr. Duncan, if there's ever anything I can do to repay
you, anything at all, just,"

           
Duncan put his hand on Cindy
Green's shoulder. "Just keep her smiling."

 
          
"No,
I'm serious."

 
          
"So
am
I.
Keep her safe, keep her healthy, keep her
smiling. Daughters are . . . " His voice caught. He cleared his throat.
"Daughters are precious. I don't want to find out I did that surgery for
nothing."

 
          
"I
will," she said, putting her hand over his. "I promise."

 
          
"Good!"
He straightened and lowered Kanesha to the floor. "Stop at the desk on
your way out. The nurse will have some ointment and instructions for its use. I
want to see Kanesha next week."

           
Cindy Green was puddling up again.
"Dr. Duncan . . . "

           
"Come on, come on," he
said, ushering them toward the door. "You're wasting time. Get her home
and let her show off that smile." That'll teach you to doubt me, he
thought as he watched them go.

 
          
"Okay,
Marge," he called out. "Who's next. Let's keep moving." He
didn't have all day.

 
          
It
began as a whim, which soon evolved into a compulsion, and by midafternoon Gin
found herself in the periodicals section of the Alexandria Public Library.

 
          
Lisa
Lathram . . . there had to be more on Lisa Lathram. And where better to find it
than in the town where she lived and died?

 
          
Disappointingly,
the Alexandria Banner's obit was identical to the one in the Host. But a short
news blurb about her death made an offhanded mention of her father being under
investigation by the Virginia State Board of Medical Examiners.

 
          
Gin
went rigid in her seat.
Duncan
? Investigated? For what?

 
          
She
began buzzing backward through the microfilmed issues of the Banner.
Fortunately it was a small paper with a low daily page count.

 
          
Whenever
she found mention of
Duncan
she photocopied the page and put it aside. When the Lathram references
petered out, she assembled the copies and read through them in chronological
order.

 
          
The
first story appeared about three months before Lisa's death. Half the Banner's
front page was devoted to
Duncan
, citing him for billing Medicare over a million dollars in vascular
surgery fees the preceding year. An editorial in the same issue categorized him
as a prime example of "unchecked greed in a profession run amok." Gin
shook her head in wonder. A million . . . a lot of money, even for a vascular
surgeon. But billing Medicate for a million didn't mean you received a million.
It only paid a fraction of what was billed. And even if it paid dollar for . .
. dollar, so what? She'd seen how
Duncan
worked when he was a vascular surgeon. If
he billed a million, it was because he'd earned a million.

 
          
The
follow-up article described how a patient's rights group was circulating
petitions calling for an investigation of Dr. Lathram to determine how much,
not if, but how much unnecessary surgery he was performing. The petitions were
forwarded to the Virginia State Board of Medical Examiners. Soon the Banner was
announcing on its front page that Duncan Lathram, MD, was under investigation
for suspicion of malfeasance and fraud by the state board. Then came an article
revealing that Medicare's fraud unit was conducting an audit of
Duncan
's office and hospital records.

 
          
God,
how awful, she thought. How humiliating to have all those investigators pawing
through your records, probably while patients sat in the waiting room.

 
          
Then
Lisa's death.

 
          
And
after that . . . nothing.

 
          
Where
was the resolution? What was the outcome? She couldn't find a single mention
anywhere. Had
Duncan
lost his
Virginia
license? Was that why he was in Chevy Chase now?

 
          
One
way to find out. She glanced at her watch. Still time to call the
Virginia
state board.

 
          
It
took four calls, but Gin finally tracked down the executive secretary, a Mrs.
Helen Arnovitz. She asked if Duncan Lathram was still licensed in the state,
and if so, had any disciplinary action ever been taken against him?

 
          
Helen
put her on hold and returned a minute later.

 
          
"Yes,
he's still licensed and no action was ever taken. However, I remember the case
well. The board did conduct an investigation for the possibility of fraudulent
billing and performing unnecessary surgery."

 
          
"And?"

           
"The charges were found to be
groundless. The board was obligated to investigate due to some adverse
publicity Dr. Lathram had been receiving, but found no malfeasance. When the
results of the Medicare audit came back clear, we completely exonerated
him."

 
          
"So
it was all much ado about nothing."

           
"For us, but not for poor Dr.
Lathram."

           
Gin stiffened. "Really? Why
not?"

           
"His practice dwindled to the
point where he had to close his office. I understand he's doing quite well now
in
Maryland
, but it was a shame that
Virginia
had to lose such a fine vascular
surgeon."

 
          
"I'm
sure it was. Thank you." Gin hung up, leaned back, and closed her eyes.

 
          
Her
heart went out to
Duncan
.

 
          
Public
humiliation, the death of his daughter, the closing of his practice, the
breakup of his marriage . . . all in the same year. Why had it happened? What
had started it all? It was enough to drive anyone . . .

 
          
.
. . crazy.

 
          
No.
That wasn't fair.
Duncan
was anything but crazy. And none of this had any connection to Schulz,
Lane, Allard, and Vincent. At least none that she could see.

 
          
So
why didn't she feel relieved?

 
          
There
was more to this. Had to be. But where to look?

 
          
No
time for that now. She was due at Lynnbrook tonight. She'd hoped this
mini-research-trip would ease her mind but it hadn't.

 
          
Only
one thing to do. And she hated herself for doing it.

 
          
Gerry
slouched in the cubicle that served as his Office staring at Martha's drawing
of an orange horse, truly a horse of a different color.

 
          
He
should have been devising a way to snare Senator Schulz's uncle as an
accomplice in laundering hono rana. Instead he was thinking about the loss of
three of members from the same committee. What were the odds of that happening
by chance? Especially when they'd all had surgery from the same doctor.

 
          
His
phone rang. The receptionist down in the visitor area. "There's a Dr.
Panzella here to see you." He damn near dropped the phone.

 
          
"What?
Dr. Pan, she's there? Now?"

           
"Yes. Standing right in front
of me."

 
          
"I'll
be right down." Gerry grabbed his suit jacket and headed for the
elevators. He pressed the down button but none opened immediately so he took
the stairs. Only three floors. Nothing to it.