“Piece of cake,” said Percy with a wave of his hand. “But I’ll tell you something. The receptionist or nurse is the person you have to impress in the doctor’s office. She controls access to the physician and if you don’t handle her properly, you’ll die of old age waiting to get in.”

“But you acted like you were good friends with that woman,” said Adam. “How did you know all those things about her personal life?”

“Arolen provides you with that kind of information,” said Percy simply. “Arolen keeps a complete record on every member of each physician’s staff as well as the doctor himself. You feed it into the computer. Then when you have questions, you can get the answers. Nothing mysterious about it. It’s just attention to detail.”

Adam glanced around Smith’s office. It was elegantly furnished, composed of dark lacquered cabinets and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Facing into the room was a large mahogany desk, piled high with journals. Adam glanced at the date on the top issue of the American Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology. It was more than a year old. A paper mailing binder was still around the magazine. It had never been opened.

The door opened. Dr. Smith stopped on the threshold and called down the hall. “Put the next patients into rooms six and seven.”

A voice answered, but it was too far away to hear.

“I know I’m behind schedule,” shouted Dr. Smith. “So what else is new? Tell them I’ve got an important conference.” He came into the office and kicked the door shut behind him. “Nurses, shit!” He was a big man with an impressive paunch. His heavy jowls made him look like an old bulldog.

“Dr. Smith, how are you?” beamed Percy. Smith allowed the rep to shake his hand and then quickly retreated behind his desk, where he brought out a pack of filter-tipped Camels. He lit one and blew the smoke out through his nostrils.

“I’d like you to meet Adam Schonberg,” continued Percy, gesturing toward Adam. “He’s started training for Arolen and I’m taking him around to meet a few of my more prestigious clients.”

The doctor smiled and said, “Well, what do you boys have for me this morning?”

“All sorts of samples,” said Percy, putting the cardboard box on the edge of the desk and opening it. Dr. Smith eagerly moved forward on his chair.

“I know how much you like Marlium, Arolen’s top-selling tranquilizer, so I brought you a good supply. You’ll notice that the packaging has been improved. Patients love these new bright yellow bottles. I also have a reprint for you. Studies just completed at the Julian Clinic here in New York indicate that Marlium has the fewest side effects of any tranquilizer on the market today. But I don’t have to tell you that. You’ve been telling us the same thing for as long as I can remember.”

“Damn right,” said Dr. Smith.

Percy lined up the other drug samples in neat rows on Dr. Smith’s desk, all the time maintaining a running commentary on the proven excellence of the various products. At every possible juncture he complimented Dr. Smith’s perspicacity in prescribing Arolen drugs for his patients.

“And last but not least,” said Percy, “I’ve brought you fifty starter samples of pregdolen. I know I don’t have to convince you of the virtues of this drug for morning sickness. You were one of the first to recognize its value. However, I do have a reprint of a recent article that I’d like you to read when you get a chance. It compares pregdolen with other similar drugs on the market and shows that pregdolen is cleared by the liver faster than anything put out by the competition.”

Percy put a glossy reprint on top of one of the piles on Dr. Smith’s desk.

“By the way, how is that boy of yours, David? Isn’t he a junior now up at Boston University? Adam, you should meet this kid. Looks like Tom Selleck, only better.”

“He’s doing very well, thanks,” beamed Dr. Smith. He took one last drag on his cigarette before crushing it in a beanbag ashtray. “The kid is premed, you know.”

“I know,” said Percy. “He’s not going to have any trouble getting into medical school.”

Fifteen minutes later Adam found himself climbing back into the passenger side of the Chevy Celebrity. Percy slid the umbrella in on the floor of the back seat and then got behind the wheel. There was a parking ticket under the windshield wiper.

“Oh, well,” said Percy. “That sign of mine doesn’t always work.” He turned on the wipers and the ticket disappeared. “Ta-da!” he said, raising his hands as if he’d just done a magic trick. “The car is registered to Arolen and the legal department takes care of that sort of thing. Now, let’s see who’s next.” He picked up the clipboard and turned to the next computer printout.

The morning passed quickly as Adam watched Percy expertly handle receptionists and push Arolen products onto busy practitioners. Adam was amazed at how effective Percy was with the physicians. Having talked with Percy all morning, he was aware of how little scientific information Percy had to draw on. Yet it didn’t seem to matter. Percy knew just enough to make it sound as if he knew a great deal, and armed with a lot of current drug information, he was able to snow the physician. Adam began to appreciate the low regard that Arolen had for the intelligence of the average doctor.

Around eleven-thirty, after leaving the office of an internist on Sutton Place South, Percy got into the car and rested his head on the steering wheel. “I think I’m having a hypoglycemic crisis. I gotta get something to eat. Is it too early for you?”

“It’s never too early for me,” said Adam.

“Great!” said Percy. “Since Arolen is paying, we’re going to do it right.”

Adam had joked in the past about the Four Seasons restaurant as being a symbol of the rich, though he’d never been in the place. When Percy had suggested they go there, Adam thought he was joking. When he led the way into the Grill Room, Adam almost passed out.

Putting his linen napkin on his lap, Adam tried to remember what it was like in the crowded hospital cafeteria. It seemed a million miles away. A waiter asked Adam if he wanted a drink. Not sure of himself, he looked over at Percy who calmly ordered a martini. What the hell, thought Adam, who quickly said he’d have the same.

“So what is your impression of the business now that you’ve gotten your feet wet?”

“It’s interesting,” said Adam evasively. “Do you eat here every day?”

“No, to tell you the truth. But McGuire said to impress you.”

Adam laughed. He liked Percy’s candor. “I’m impressed enough with your abilities. You’re very good.”

Percy shook his head. “It’s easy. Like catching fish at a trout farm. For some inexplicable reason, doctors know very little about drugs. Maybe you can tell me the reason.”

Adam thought for a moment. He’d had courses in pharmacology like everyone else, but it was true that he knew very little about the actual use of the drugs. He’d only been taught about their action on a cellular level. What little he knew about prescribing he’d picked up on the wards. Before he could answer Percy’s question, their drinks arrived.

“Here’s to your career with Arolen,” said Percy, holding up his glass.

“What about this pregdolen you’ve been pushing?” asked Adam, remembering Jennifer’s recent complaints. “My wife has been having some trouble with morning sickness. Maybe I should take a couple of those starter samples.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” said Percy, suddenly serious. “I know Arolen sells a ton of it, and a lot of people think it’s the best thing since sliced bread, but I don’t think the drug works and there’s a possibility it’s toxic.”

“What do you mean?” asked Adam.

“It’s been written up in several of the more important medical journals,” said Percy, taking another sip of his drink. “Of course, I don’t refer to those articles when I call on the doctors. Obviously the doctors haven’t read them because they keep prescribing the stuff like crazy. It sure explodes the myth that doctors get their drug information from the medical journals. For most practitioners that’s bullshit. They get their drug information, what little they get, from the likes of me, and I only tell them what I want to tell them.”