" Queens, to be exact."

"Where did you go to medical school?"

"Columbia College of Physicians and Surgeons," Roger said.

"Really! What a coincidence! So did I. What year did you graduate?"

"Nineteen eighty-one."

"I was eighty-six. Did you happen to know a Jack Stapleton in your class?"

"I did. He was one of the best basketball players in Bard Hall. Do you know him?"

"I do," Laurie said without elaborating. She felt strangely uncomfortable, like she was cheating on her relationship with Jack just by bringing up his name. "He's a colleague of mine over at the OCME," she added lamely.

They entered Roger's office, which was, as he had said, modest. It was situated on the inside area of the administration wing and accordingly had no windows. Instead, the walls were covered with framed photos of numerous places around the world where he had worked. There was a number of himself with either local dignitaries or patients. Laurie couldn't help but notice that in all of them, Roger was smiling as if each photo had recorded a celebratory event. It was particularly noticeable, since the other people were expressionless or actually frowning.

"Please, sit down!" Roger suggested. He angled a small straight-back chair toward the desk. After closing the door to the hall, Roger sat at the desk, leaned back, and folded his arms. "Now then, tell me what's on your mind."

Laurie again emphasized the need to keep her name out of the situation, and Roger assured her that she had nothing to fear. Reasonably confident, Laurie told the story as she had told it to Sue. This time, she used the term "serial killer." When she was finished she reached over and put a three-by-five index card with the four names directly in front of him.

Roger had been silent throughout Laurie's monologue, staring at her with increasing intensity. "I can't believe you are telling me this," he said finally. "And I am enormously appreciative of your making this effort."

"My conscience dictated that someone should know," Laurie explained. "Perhaps after I get copies of the charts or if toxicology comes up with something surprising, I'll have to eat my words. That would be fine, and no one would be happier than I. But until then, I'm worried something weird is going on."

"The reason I'm so surprised and appreciative is because I have been the scorned gadfly here like you have been over at the OCME, and for the same reasons. I've brought up each of these cases at the morbidity/mortality meeting. In fact, the last time was this morning with Darlene Morgan. And every time, I've been met with denial, even anger, particularly from the president himself. Of course, I haven't had the added benefit of the autopsy results, since we haven't gotten them yet."

"None of the cases have been signed out," Laurie explained.

"Whatever," Roger said. "These cases had me worried right from the first one, Mr. Moskowitz. But the president has put a gag order on our even discussing them, lest something leak out to the media and put the efficacy of our CPR program in question. The on-call docs were unable to get even a rudimentary heartbeat going on any of these cases."

"Has there been any investigation of any sort?"

"Nothing, which flies in the face of my strenuous recommendations. I mean, I've personally looked into it to a degree, but my hands are tied. The problem is, our mortality is very low, below two-point-two percent. The President said we'd do something when it gets to three percent, the usual level of concern. The rest of the committee agrees, particularly the quality-control person, the risk-management person, and the damn lawyer. They are all convinced beyond a shadow of doubt these episodes are merely unfortunate and unavoidable complications in the inherently risky environment of a tertiary-care center. In other words, they are within statistical predictions. But I don't buy it. For me, they're sticking their heads in the sand."

"When you looked into it, did you find anything at all?"

"I didn't. The patients have been on different floors, with different staff, and different doctors. But I haven't given up."

"Good!" Laurie said. "I'm glad you are on top of it, and I'm glad to have had a chance to satisfy my conscience." She stood up, but the second she did, she wished she hadn't, yet she couldn't sit back down for fear of embarrassing herself. The problem was Jack. In fact, lately it seemed that the problem was always Jack. She had enjoyed talking with this man and the feeling made her uncomfortable. "Well, thanks for listening to me," she added, extending her hand toward Roger in an attempt to regain a modicum of control. "It has been nice meeting you. As I mentioned, I'll be getting copies of the charts, and I have our best toxicologist working on it. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"I'd appreciate it," Roger said, shaking her hand but then holding on to it. "Now, may I ask a few questions?"

"Of course," Laurie said.

"Would you mind sitting back down?" Roger asked. He let go of Laurie's hand and gestured toward the chair Laurie had just vacated. "I prefer you sitting, so I don't have to worry you'll flee out the door."

Somewhat confused by Roger's last comment and why he might believe she'd want to flee, Laurie sat back down.

"I have to confess that I have an ulterior motive in being uncharacteristically glib about answering personal questions. If you would indulge me, I'd like to ask you a few personal questions, since Sue made it a point to tell me that you were single and unattached. Is any or all of that correct?"

Laurie immediately felt dampness in the palms of her hands. Was she unattached? Being put on the spot by an attractive, interesting man who was expecting an answer made her pulse race. She didn't know what to say.

Roger leaned forward and dipped his head to try to look Laurie in the eyes. Her eyes had lowered in response to her emotional confusion.

"I apologize if I am upsetting you," Roger said.

Laurie straightened up, took a deep breath, and smiled wanly. "You're not upsetting me," she lied. "I just didn't expect to be asked that kind of question, especially on this potentially kamikaze career-wise mission of mine over here to the Manhattan General."

"Then an answer would be nice," Roger persisted.

Laurie smiled again, mostly at herself. She was again acting like a teenager. "I am single and mostly unattached."

" 'Mostly' is an interesting choice for an adverb, but I'll accept it on face value, since we all live in a social web of sorts. Do you live in the city?"

An embarrassing snapshot of her tiny apartment with its seedy entrance flashed through Laurie's mind. "Yes, I have a flat downtown." Then, to make it sound better than it was, she added, "Not too far from Gramercy Park."

"Sounds good."

"How about yourself?"

"I've only been back for a little over three months, so I wasn't sure where the best place was to live currently in the city. I took a year's lease on an apartment on the Upper West Side – Seventieth Street, to be exact. I like it. It's close to that new Sports L.A. club, the museum, and Lincoln Center, plus I have the park at my fingertips."

"Sounds good," Laurie said. She and Jack had frequented restaurants in that area over the last several years.

"My next question is whether you'd care to have dinner with me tonight."

Laurie smiled inwardly as the aphorism "Be careful what you wish for, since it may come true" occurred to her. Over the last number of years with Jack, she'd progressively come to realize how much she appreciated decisiveness in her significant other, something Jack lacked in his personal life. Roger, on the other hand, seemed to be the opposite. Even during this brief encounter, she sensed his personality embodied the term.