Read Online Side Effects by Michael Palmer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Palmer
Tags: Fiction, thriller, Suspense, Medical, Mystery, Mystery & Detective - General, Fiction - Espionage
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like the chance to work through our differences without involving you. Okay?" Willoughby hesitated and then shrugged and nodded.
"Thanks," she said. "If I were ever to take over the chairmanship of the department, I'd like to know I had a solid relationship with my chief technician--especially if she were someone as invaluable as Sheila Pierce."
"Invaluable is right. I keep giving her raises and bonuses even though she puts a knot in my ninny just about every time she opens her mouth. Say, did I hear you just give me the green light to submit your name to Reese?"
"I said 'if and you know it."
Willoughby grinned mischievously. "Your voice said 'if' but your eyes ..."
"You rang?" Sheila Pierce saved Kate from a response.
Fortyish, with a trim, efficient attractiveness, she had, Kate knew, earned both bachelor's and master's degrees while working in the department. By the time Kate had begun her residence, the one-time Page 25
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laboratory assistant had become chief pathology technician.
"Ah, Sheila," Willoughby said. "Come in."
"Hi, Sheila." Kate hoped there was enough reassurance in her expression and her voice to keep the woman from any further outburst, at least until they had a chance to talk privately. Their eyes locked for a fraction of a second; then, mercifully, Sheila returned the greeting. The problem |
&y\
between them had, as Stan Willoughby suspected, arisen during Kate's computer-aided study of the pathology department's budget and expenditures, specifically in regard to a six hundred and fifty dollar payment for an educational meeting in Miami that Sheila could not document ever having attended. Kate had decided to drop the matter without involving the department chief, but the technician was clearly unconvinced that she had done so.
"How's my new batch of silver stain coming?" Willoughby asked.
"It's much, much thicker than the old stuff," Sheila said, settling on a high stool, equidistant from the two physicians. "Fourteen hours may be too long to heat it."
"I seem to recall your warning me about that when I suggested fourteen hours in the first place. Is it a total loss?"
"Well, actually I split about half of it off and cooked that part for only seven hours."
"And ... ?"
"And it looks fine ... perfect, even."
Willoughby's sigh of relief was pronounced. "Do you know how much that stain costs to make? How much you just saved me by ... ?"
"Of course I know. Who do you think ordered the material in the first place, the Ghost of Christmas Past?"
Willoughby shot Kate a what-did-I-tell-you glance; then he picked up the slides and paraffin blocks containing tissue from Beverly Vitale's ovary. "Dr. Bennett has an interesting problem here that I think might be well suited to my silver stain. Do you think you could make some sections and try it out?"
"Your command is my command," Pierce said, bowing.
"Give me an hour, and your stain will be ready." She turned to Kate. "Dr. Bennett, I think you should have a little review session with our chief here on the basics of hypertension. On his desk, right next to his blood pressure pills, is a half-eaten bag of Doritos. Bye, now." Sheila Pierce dropped off the paraffin block in histology and then returned to her office. On her desk was the stain Willoughby had referred to as "his." Pierce laughed disdainfully. If it weren't for her, the stain that was soon to be known by his name would be little more than an expensive beaker of shit. There they sat, she thought, Willoughby and that goddamn Bennett, sharing their little physician jokes and performing their physician mental masturbations and issuing orders to a woman with an IQ--a proven IQ--higher than either of theirs could possibly be.
One-fifty. That's what her mother said. Genius level. One hundred and fucking fifty. So where was the MD degree that would have put her where she deserved to be?
Pierce glared at the small framed
"Thanks," she said. "If I were ever to take over the chairmanship of the department, I'd like to know I had a solid relationship with my chief technician--especially if she were someone as invaluable as Sheila Pierce."
"Invaluable is right. I keep giving her raises and bonuses even though she puts a knot in my ninny just about every time she opens her mouth. Say, did I hear you just give me the green light to submit your name to Reese?"
"I said 'if and you know it."
Willoughby grinned mischievously. "Your voice said 'if' but your eyes ..."
"You rang?" Sheila Pierce saved Kate from a response.
Fortyish, with a trim, efficient attractiveness, she had, Kate knew, earned both bachelor's and master's degrees while working in the department. By the time Kate had begun her residence, the one-time Page 25
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
laboratory assistant had become chief pathology technician.
"Ah, Sheila," Willoughby said. "Come in."
"Hi, Sheila." Kate hoped there was enough reassurance in her expression and her voice to keep the woman from any further outburst, at least until they had a chance to talk privately. Their eyes locked for a fraction of a second; then, mercifully, Sheila returned the greeting. The problem |
&y\
between them had, as Stan Willoughby suspected, arisen during Kate's computer-aided study of the pathology department's budget and expenditures, specifically in regard to a six hundred and fifty dollar payment for an educational meeting in Miami that Sheila could not document ever having attended. Kate had decided to drop the matter without involving the department chief, but the technician was clearly unconvinced that she had done so.
"How's my new batch of silver stain coming?" Willoughby asked.
"It's much, much thicker than the old stuff," Sheila said, settling on a high stool, equidistant from the two physicians. "Fourteen hours may be too long to heat it."
"I seem to recall your warning me about that when I suggested fourteen hours in the first place. Is it a total loss?"
"Well, actually I split about half of it off and cooked that part for only seven hours."
"And ... ?"
"And it looks fine ... perfect, even."
Willoughby's sigh of relief was pronounced. "Do you know how much that stain costs to make? How much you just saved me by ... ?"
"Of course I know. Who do you think ordered the material in the first place, the Ghost of Christmas Past?"
Willoughby shot Kate a what-did-I-tell-you glance; then he picked up the slides and paraffin blocks containing tissue from Beverly Vitale's ovary. "Dr. Bennett has an interesting problem here that I think might be well suited to my silver stain. Do you think you could make some sections and try it out?"
"Your command is my command," Pierce said, bowing.
"Give me an hour, and your stain will be ready." She turned to Kate. "Dr. Bennett, I think you should have a little review session with our chief here on the basics of hypertension. On his desk, right next to his blood pressure pills, is a half-eaten bag of Doritos. Bye, now." Sheila Pierce dropped off the paraffin block in histology and then returned to her office. On her desk was the stain Willoughby had referred to as "his." Pierce laughed disdainfully. If it weren't for her, the stain that was soon to be known by his name would be little more than an expensive beaker of shit. There they sat, she thought, Willoughby and that goddamn Bennett, sharing their little physician jokes and performing their physician mental masturbations and issuing orders to a woman with an IQ--a proven IQ--higher than either of theirs could possibly be.
One-fifty. That's what her mother said. Genius level. One hundred and fucking fifty. So where was the MD degree that would have put her where she deserved to be?
Pierce glared at the small framed
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