explosions had obliterated every part of both pacemakers, including the serial numbers on the electrodes at the generator box end of the pacing leads,
Schwartz had no alternative but to await full details of the shipments that had contained the devices; without that information, even if the Hagen Pacing computer could tell them how many
pacemakers had been shipped to Massachusetts and Illinois locations in the past two months or so, there was no guarantee that one or both devices had not been awaiting use in Boston and Chicago for
a year or more, since they would still have been well within their use-by dates.
“How long till we get whatever’s left of the devices?” Schwartz asked now, in the early morning hush.
“We’ll have Mrs Ferguson’s later this morning,” Hagen replied. “They’ll be flying the Boston remains to us as fast as they can.” The president shook his
grey head. “God knows what the press will make of this if it gets out.”
“We have to stop it getting out,” Leary said.
“What is the situation on that score?” Ashcroft asked Hagen. “How much have the families been told?”
“That’s another problem,” Hagen said. “Sean Ferguson, the husband, is a journalist.” A hint of despair touched his voice.
“Shit,” Leary said.
“According to the police, they were together when it happened – and I mean together.” Hagen folded his hands and laid them on his desk, visibly shaken but still fighting to
stay calm. “That poor man saw it happen. Whether he’s read the autopsy report yet or not, he saw his wife die before his eyes because of one of our pacemakers.”
“We
have
to stop this getting out.” Leary was very grim. “There’ll be chaos, pandemonium – patients clamouring to have their pacers removed.”
“Stop it, Howard,” Ashcroft said.
“Jesus Christ, Olivia, about twelve thousand people a year entrust their lives to us!”
“And losing our tempers won’t help any of them.”
“What do you suggest?” Leary glowered at her.
Schwartz stood up. “I have only one practical suggestion to make at this point.” His voice grew a little stronger. “That in the absence of any more information, I start getting
some kind of investigation under way.”
“How long, Fred?” Hagen asked.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Couldn’t you at least hazard a guess?” Leary was sarcastic.
“How can he?” Ashcroft reasoned. “He needs facts – some place to start.”
“I’ll see that you get everything you need,” Hagen told Schwartz.
“It’s going to be tough today.” Schwartz spoke directly to Hagen, ignoring Leary. “We obviously can’t involve anyone else, so I’ll have to keep production
moving, and work alone after hours.”
“Thank God for the weekend,” Leary said.
“Looking on the black side,” Ashcroft came in again, tentatively, “if we have no answer by Monday, shouldn’t we consider halting production?”
“Once the FDA get hold of this” – Hagen was dismal – ”I doubt we’ll have much choice, but for now – ” A new thought struck him. “This could
be pretty dangerous for you, Fred. Once you start checking master copies or whatever’s left of the batches – I mean, we can’t be sure they’re not lethal too.”
“They’re not,” Schwartz said, decisively. “I’d stake my reputation on it.”
“We’re talking about staking your life,” Ashcroft pointed out. “And no matter how confident you may feel, we have to consider protecting the rest of the
workforce.”
“Olivia has a point,” Hagen said.
“A point that could mean halting production.” Leary was very blunt. “A point that would mean withdrawing lifesaving treatment from hundreds of patients, at least – not to
mention telling our employees and everyone they know that we’re too dangerous to work for. Why not just buy a full page in the
Tribune
? You’ll destroy Hagen Pacing, and
you’ll panic every pacemaker patient in the
Schwartz had no alternative but to await full details of the shipments that had contained the devices; without that information, even if the Hagen Pacing computer could tell them how many
pacemakers had been shipped to Massachusetts and Illinois locations in the past two months or so, there was no guarantee that one or both devices had not been awaiting use in Boston and Chicago for
a year or more, since they would still have been well within their use-by dates.
“How long till we get whatever’s left of the devices?” Schwartz asked now, in the early morning hush.
“We’ll have Mrs Ferguson’s later this morning,” Hagen replied. “They’ll be flying the Boston remains to us as fast as they can.” The president shook his
grey head. “God knows what the press will make of this if it gets out.”
“We have to stop it getting out,” Leary said.
“What is the situation on that score?” Ashcroft asked Hagen. “How much have the families been told?”
“That’s another problem,” Hagen said. “Sean Ferguson, the husband, is a journalist.” A hint of despair touched his voice.
“Shit,” Leary said.
“According to the police, they were together when it happened – and I mean together.” Hagen folded his hands and laid them on his desk, visibly shaken but still fighting to
stay calm. “That poor man saw it happen. Whether he’s read the autopsy report yet or not, he saw his wife die before his eyes because of one of our pacemakers.”
“We
have
to stop this getting out.” Leary was very grim. “There’ll be chaos, pandemonium – patients clamouring to have their pacers removed.”
“Stop it, Howard,” Ashcroft said.
“Jesus Christ, Olivia, about twelve thousand people a year entrust their lives to us!”
“And losing our tempers won’t help any of them.”
“What do you suggest?” Leary glowered at her.
Schwartz stood up. “I have only one practical suggestion to make at this point.” His voice grew a little stronger. “That in the absence of any more information, I start getting
some kind of investigation under way.”
“How long, Fred?” Hagen asked.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Couldn’t you at least hazard a guess?” Leary was sarcastic.
“How can he?” Ashcroft reasoned. “He needs facts – some place to start.”
“I’ll see that you get everything you need,” Hagen told Schwartz.
“It’s going to be tough today.” Schwartz spoke directly to Hagen, ignoring Leary. “We obviously can’t involve anyone else, so I’ll have to keep production
moving, and work alone after hours.”
“Thank God for the weekend,” Leary said.
“Looking on the black side,” Ashcroft came in again, tentatively, “if we have no answer by Monday, shouldn’t we consider halting production?”
“Once the FDA get hold of this” – Hagen was dismal – ”I doubt we’ll have much choice, but for now – ” A new thought struck him. “This could
be pretty dangerous for you, Fred. Once you start checking master copies or whatever’s left of the batches – I mean, we can’t be sure they’re not lethal too.”
“They’re not,” Schwartz said, decisively. “I’d stake my reputation on it.”
“We’re talking about staking your life,” Ashcroft pointed out. “And no matter how confident you may feel, we have to consider protecting the rest of the
workforce.”
“Olivia has a point,” Hagen said.
“A point that could mean halting production.” Leary was very blunt. “A point that would mean withdrawing lifesaving treatment from hundreds of patients, at least – not to
mention telling our employees and everyone they know that we’re too dangerous to work for. Why not just buy a full page in the
Tribune
? You’ll destroy Hagen Pacing, and
you’ll panic every pacemaker patient in the
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