“But I apologized profusely,” Noah argued. “It doesn’t seem reasonable she’d do such a thing, even as it smacked of betrayal to her. The punishment doesn’t match the crime, and she hates Dr. Mason, and I believe she truly cares for me. And she knows how much surgery means to me because I think she cares about anesthesia to the same degree.”
“Again, you are asking for my opinion, and I am giving it,” Leslie said gently. “If you listen to this story that you are telling me about this woman, there seems to be a disconnect. You even questioned yourself if she was being manipulative, and she has used this silence routine before. In my mind, I don’t think there is any question. But more to the point, have you asked yourself why she should be so damn sensitive about her computer? I mean, you said you apologized.”
“Good point,” Noah admitted. “I have asked myself that question. I think it has to do with her lobbying for the nutritional-supplement industry, which supports her lifestyle. When she caught me at her computer, I was reading a letter she was in the process of writing to her boss. It was serious stuff advocating dirty tricks associated with the law that keeps the FDA from interfering with the industry. We’re talking about billions of dollars.
“And there is another reason for her to be sensitive about her computer. Incredibly enough, her major social activity is social media. It is a significant part of her identity.”
“You are joking,” Leslie said.
“I’m not,” Noah insisted. “She’s on all forms of social media every day, from Facebook to Twitter to Snapchat to dating sites. She even has a fan page with over a hundred thousand followers.” What he purposefully avoided saying was that she used sockpuppets, except for LinkedIn.
“Noah!” Leslie exclaimed. “What you’re describing is a media-crazed preteen girl inhabiting a grown woman’s body. Are you sure this is a healthy relationship for you?”
“There are extenuating reasons for her interest in social media,” Noah said. He didn’t want to hear where Leslie was going, since it mirrored too closely his own reservations about Ava that he’d been trying to ignore. “She is reluctant to socialize with hospital colleagues, somewhat like myself. And her lobbying job takes her away most weekends, so social media fills a void. She lives in Boston but doesn’t seem to know anyone in particular.”
“I don’t know,” Leslie said with resignation. “I wish I could be more positive about this woman, since you obviously care for her. But I think you should be careful.”
“She also has a history of having been emotionally injured,” Noah said. “She was abandoned by a new husband who was a surgical resident from Serbia who needed a green card. I’ve never been married, but I think I can relate to that.”
There was a pause in the conversation, with the issue of abandonment hanging in the air.
“Is there anything you can do to prepare for the Advisory Board hearing?” Leslie said to change the subject.
“The hospital has assigned me a lawyer,” Noah said. “I haven’t called him yet. I’ll do that on Monday. I suppose it will be interesting to get his take. But it scares me the hospital thought I needed a lawyer. It certainly suggests they are taking this seriously. They even have me under surveillance.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every time I go out there’s a guy in a suit following me. There’s two of them and they trade off.”
“Are you sure they’re following you?”
“I’m pretty sure,” Noah said.
“You think it is the hospital?”
“I do. Who else would it be? The only problem is that I think it might have started before my suspension.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“But why would they be watching you?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Noah said. “I guess they want to keep tabs on me to make sure I don’t sneak back into the hospital. It’s true that I considered doing it. I can’t imagine what my patients are thinking. I don’t know what they have been told. Maybe there are some serious legal issues I don’t understand.”
“I’m so sorry all this is happening to you,” Leslie said. “You don’t deserve it. I still think it will work itself out, at least in respect to the hospital. I’m afraid your girlfriend might be another story.”
“I appreciate your listening to me,” Noah said.
“Call me whenever,” Leslie said. “And good luck. I hope everything turns out okay. I really do.”
After appropriate goodbyes, Noah disconnected the call. For a moment, he sat staring at the blank wall. His calling Leslie had been a toss-up emotionally. He appreciated her sympathy and support, but she’d aggravated his concern for Ava’s possible involvement in his suspension.
Thinking about his thesis got him up from the couch. He went into the surprisingly large walk-in closet where he kept several heavy cardboard storage boxes. He rummaged through them until he found the large portfolio with an elastic closure containing all the material relating to his thesis—all his notes and copies of the various drafts. He brought it out into the living room and began to go through it to refresh his memory. He hadn’t opened the file for more than ten years.
30
MONDAY, AUGUST 14, 3:34 P.M.
The lawyer that the hospital had retained for Noah was not the warm-and-fuzzy person Noah had hoped for. His name was John Cavendish, a thin, young man with gaunt features and lank blond hair who Noah guessed was in his late twenties. He was not particularly personable. Although he was a member of a large law firm housed on the fiftieth floor in an elegant high-rise building on State Street, he had only junior status. His office was an interior one without a window and was as small as Noah’s living room.
Noah’s appointment had been for 3:00, but as eager as he was, he’d arrived around 2:30 and had been kept waiting for forty-five minutes. John had come out to the waiting room when he was ready to see Noah and had stiffly introduced himself. The lawyer was now going through Noah’s Ph.D. file page by page, his expression neutral.
Taking a deep breath, Noah settled back into his chair. It was the first time he’d ventured out of his apartment since going to Whole Foods Saturday afternoon. He was still depressed and anxious, hoping the visit to the lawyer might buoy his mood. So far it didn’t seem promising.
The weather was as hot as it had been on Saturday, and Noah felt it more acutely, because he was now dressed in his only jacket and tie. As he had expected, he’d been followed, this time by the Caucasian, who was significantly more subtle in his surveillance technique than his African American colleague.
“Thank you for bringing in this material,” John said as he slid the papers back into their folder. “Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be anything of particular value in the present circumstance.
“Let me ask you again, just to be sure. It is my understanding that you stated in front of witnesses that the bound volume of your thesis contained falsified information. Is that correct?”