Read Online Strong Medicine by Arthur Hailey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Arthur Hailey
Tags: Fiction, General, Fiction - General, Medical, Thrillers, Fiction / Thrillers, General & Literary Fiction, drugs
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hurled the instrument across the office where it hit a file
cabinet and broke. Then Noah continued talking as if nothing had
happened.
Next day a replacement telephone was on Noah's desk-, the fate of the old
one was never mentioned.
Some six weeks later Andrew was in Noah's car, with Noah driving.
Suddenly, to Andrew's horror, they were hurtling through Morristown with
the accelerator floored, skidding around corners, and going through a red
light. Andrew shouted a warning, but Noah appeared not to hear. Through
extraordinary luck, no accident occurred, and they raced into St. Bede's
parking lot, then slid to a halt with a screech of tires. While Andrew
was protesting, Noah just shrugged-and the next time Andrew observed Noah
driving, it was at a safe speed with normal caution.
A third incident, again widely separated from the others, but the
54
most distressing, involved their office receptionist-secretary, Mrs.
Parsons, who had worked for Noah for many years, long before Andrew's
arrival. True, Violet Parsons in her mid-sixties was slowing down and was
occasionally forgetful. But it was seldom about anything important, and she
was good with patients, who liked her. She and Andrew got along well, and
her devotion to Noah-close to adoration-was an in-house joke.
Until an incident about a check.
In preparing one for payment of office supplies, Violet made an error. The
invoice was for forty-five dollars. She reversed the figures, made out the
check for fifty-four dollars, and left it on Noah's desk for him to sign.
In practical terms it didn't matter, since the extra amount would have
appeared as a credit on the following month's bill.
But Noah stormed into the reception area with the check in his hand and
shouted at Violet Parsons, "You stupid bitch! Are you trying to ruin me by
giving away my money?"
Andrew, who happened to be entering the office at that moment, could hardly
believe what he was hearing. Nor, it seemed, could Violet, who stood up and
replied with dignity, "Dr. Townsend, I have never been spoken to in that
manner before, and do not intend to have it happen again. I am leaving now
and will not be back."
When Andrew tried to intervene, Noah snapped, "Stay out of this!" And
Violet said, "Thank you Dr. Jordan, but I no longer work here."
Next day Andrew tried to bring up the subject with Noah, but the older man
merely growled, "She wasn't doing her job. I've hired someone else; she
starts tomorrow."
If the incidents had been less isolated or more frequent, Andrew might have
had greater concern. But, he reasoned, as everyone grew older the pressures
of work and daily living could cause tensions to erupt and tempers fray. It
was, after all, a human characteristic. Andrew himself felt those pressures
at times, with a resultant edginess which he contained. Noah, it seemed,
had not contained his.
Still, the incidents troubled Andrew.
Celia's career activities were more upbeat.
In February 1960, on a day when she had left her sales territory to
transact some business at Felding-Roth headquarters, Sam Hawthorne summoned
her to his office. Sam was in a relaxed mood and
55
greeted Celia cordially. His new responsibilities in national sales did
not appear to be wearing him down, she thought-a good sign. Also, in view
of her own long-term plans, an optimistic one. Sam's hair, though, was
noticeably thinner; by his fortieth birthday, now a year away, he would
probably be bald, though the look seemed to suit him.
"I wanted to see you about the national sales meeting," he announced.
Celia already knew that Felding-Roth's biennial sales convention would
be held at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York in April. While private
and closed to outsiders, the affair was attended by all company sales
people in the United States, plus officers of FeldingRoth subsidiaries
abroad. As well, the chairman, president and other senior eKecutives
would be present during the
cabinet and broke. Then Noah continued talking as if nothing had
happened.
Next day a replacement telephone was on Noah's desk-, the fate of the old
one was never mentioned.
Some six weeks later Andrew was in Noah's car, with Noah driving.
Suddenly, to Andrew's horror, they were hurtling through Morristown with
the accelerator floored, skidding around corners, and going through a red
light. Andrew shouted a warning, but Noah appeared not to hear. Through
extraordinary luck, no accident occurred, and they raced into St. Bede's
parking lot, then slid to a halt with a screech of tires. While Andrew
was protesting, Noah just shrugged-and the next time Andrew observed Noah
driving, it was at a safe speed with normal caution.
A third incident, again widely separated from the others, but the
54
most distressing, involved their office receptionist-secretary, Mrs.
Parsons, who had worked for Noah for many years, long before Andrew's
arrival. True, Violet Parsons in her mid-sixties was slowing down and was
occasionally forgetful. But it was seldom about anything important, and she
was good with patients, who liked her. She and Andrew got along well, and
her devotion to Noah-close to adoration-was an in-house joke.
Until an incident about a check.
In preparing one for payment of office supplies, Violet made an error. The
invoice was for forty-five dollars. She reversed the figures, made out the
check for fifty-four dollars, and left it on Noah's desk for him to sign.
In practical terms it didn't matter, since the extra amount would have
appeared as a credit on the following month's bill.
But Noah stormed into the reception area with the check in his hand and
shouted at Violet Parsons, "You stupid bitch! Are you trying to ruin me by
giving away my money?"
Andrew, who happened to be entering the office at that moment, could hardly
believe what he was hearing. Nor, it seemed, could Violet, who stood up and
replied with dignity, "Dr. Townsend, I have never been spoken to in that
manner before, and do not intend to have it happen again. I am leaving now
and will not be back."
When Andrew tried to intervene, Noah snapped, "Stay out of this!" And
Violet said, "Thank you Dr. Jordan, but I no longer work here."
Next day Andrew tried to bring up the subject with Noah, but the older man
merely growled, "She wasn't doing her job. I've hired someone else; she
starts tomorrow."
If the incidents had been less isolated or more frequent, Andrew might have
had greater concern. But, he reasoned, as everyone grew older the pressures
of work and daily living could cause tensions to erupt and tempers fray. It
was, after all, a human characteristic. Andrew himself felt those pressures
at times, with a resultant edginess which he contained. Noah, it seemed,
had not contained his.
Still, the incidents troubled Andrew.
Celia's career activities were more upbeat.
In February 1960, on a day when she had left her sales territory to
transact some business at Felding-Roth headquarters, Sam Hawthorne summoned
her to his office. Sam was in a relaxed mood and
55
greeted Celia cordially. His new responsibilities in national sales did
not appear to be wearing him down, she thought-a good sign. Also, in view
of her own long-term plans, an optimistic one. Sam's hair, though, was
noticeably thinner; by his fortieth birthday, now a year away, he would
probably be bald, though the look seemed to suit him.
"I wanted to see you about the national sales meeting," he announced.
Celia already knew that Felding-Roth's biennial sales convention would
be held at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York in April. While private
and closed to outsiders, the affair was attended by all company sales
people in the United States, plus officers of FeldingRoth subsidiaries
abroad. As well, the chairman, president and other senior eKecutives
would be present during the
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