ah.thefinaldiagnosis-第33部分

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　Coleman　was　aware　of　it　too。　His　brain　clicked　out　a　warning：　be　cautious　of　alliances　with　subordinates…even　one　like　this。　He　rationalized：　It　isn't　snobbery；　it's　just　a　matter　of　hospital　discipline　and　mon　sense。　Aloud　he　said；　〃Well；　I'm　going　to　be　working　quite　hard　for　a　while。　Let's　leave　it；　shall　we；　and　see　how　things　go？〃
　Even　as　he　spoke　them　the　words　sounded　hollow　and　false。　He　thought：　You　could　have　let　him　down　more　lightly　than　that。　Mentally　he　added　a　footnote　to　himself：　You　haven't　changed；　my　friend；　you　haven't　changed　at　all。
　
　Momentarily　Harry　Tomaselli　found　himself　wishing　that　Mrs。　Straughan　would　go　back　to　her　kitchens　and　stay　there。　Then　he　checked　himself：　a　good　chief　dietitian　was　a　pearl　to　be　prized。　And　Mrs。　Straughan　was　good；　of　that　fact　the　administrator　was　well　aware。
　But　there　were　times　when　he　wondered　if　Hilda　Straughan　ever　thought　of　Three　Counties　Hospital　as　a　unified　whole。　Most　times　when　talking　with　her　he　gained　the　impression　that　the　hospital's　heart　consisted　of　kitchens；　from　which　other　and　less　important　facilities　radiated　outward。　He　reflected；　though…Harry　Tomaselli　was；　above　all；　a　fair…minded　man…that　this　sort　of　attitude　was　often　found　in　people　who　took　their　jobs　seriously。　And；　if　it　were　a　failing；　he　certainly　preferred　it　to　slackness　and　indifference。　Another　thing：　a　good　department　head　was　always　willing　to　fight　and　argue　for　something　which　he　or　she　believed　in；　and　Mrs。　Straughan　was　a　fighter　and　arguer　in　every　ample　cubic　inch　of　her。
　At　this　moment；　her　big　bulk　overflowing　a　chair　in　the　administrator's　office；　she　was　fighting　hard。
　〃I　wonder　if　you　realize；　Mr。　T。；　how　serious　this　is。〃　Mrs。　Straughan　invariably　used　the　surname　initial　when　addressing　people　she　knew；　she　had　a　habit　of　referring　to　her　own　husband　as　〃Mr。　S。〃
　〃I　think　so；〃　Harry　Tomaselli　said。
　〃The　dishwashers　I　have　now　were　obsolete　at　least　five　years　ago。　Every　year　since　I've　been　here　I've　been　told：　Next　year　we'll　give　you　your　new　ones。　And　when　next　year　es；　where　are　my　dishwashers？　I　find　they're　put　off　for　another　twelve　months。　It　won't　do；　Mr。　T。　It　just　won't　do。〃
　Mrs。　Straughan　always　used　the　personal　pronoun　〃my〃　when　referring　to　equipment　in　her　charge。　Tomaselli　had　no　objection　to　this。　What　he　did　object　to　was　Hilda　Straughan's　unwillingness　to　consider　any　problems　other　than　her　own。　He　prepared　to　cover；　once　more；　the　ground　they　had　gone　over　just　a　week　or　two　before。
　〃There's　no　question；　Mrs。　Straughan；　that　the　dishwashers　are　going　to　be　replaced　eventually。　I　know　the　problem　you　have　down　there　in　the　kitchens；　but　those　are　big；　expensive　machines。　If　you　remember；　the　last　estimate　we　had　ran　a　little　under　eleven　thousand　dollars；　allowing　for　changes　in　the　hot…water　system。〃
　Mrs。　Straughan　leaned　over　the　desk；　her　massive　bosom　brushing　a　file　tray　aside。　〃And　the　longer　you　leave　it　the　more　the　cost　will　go　up。〃
　〃Unfortunately　I'm　aware　of　that　too。〃　The　rising　cost　of　everything　the　hospital　bought　was　a　problem　Tomaselli　lived　with　daily。　He　added；　〃But　right　at　this　moment　hospital　money　for　capital　expenditures　is　extremely　tight。　The　building　extension；　of　course；　is　partly　responsible。　It's　simply　a　question　of　allocating　priorities；　and　some　of　the　medical　equipment　has　had　to　e　first。〃
　〃What　good　is　medical　equipment　if　your　patients　don't　have　clean　plates　to　eat　their　food　from？〃
　〃Mrs。　Straughan；〃　he　said　firmly；　〃the　situation　is　not　as　bad　as　that；　and　both　of　us　know　it。〃
　〃It's　not　very　far　removed　from　it。〃　The　chief　dietitian　leaned　forward　and　the　file　tray　took　another　shove；　Harry　Tomaselli　found　himself　wishing　she　would　keep　her　breasts　off　his　desk。　She　went　on；　〃Several　times　lately　whole　loads　of　dishes　going　through　my　machines　have　still　been　dirty　when　they　came　out。　We　try　to　check　as　much　as　we　can；　but　when　there's　a　rush　it　isn't　always　possible。〃
　〃Yes；〃　he　said。　〃I　can　understand　that。〃
　〃It's　the　danger　of　infection　I'm　worried　about；　Mr。　T。　There's　been　a　lot　of　intestinal　flu　among　the　hospital　staff　lately。　Of　course；　when　that　happens　everyone　blames　the　food。　But　it　wouldn't　surprise　me　if　this　was　the　cause　of　it。〃
　〃We'd　need　considerably　more　evidence　to　be　sure　of　that。〃　Harry　Tomaselli's　patience　was　beginning　to　wear　thin。　Mrs。　Straughan　had　e　to　him　on　an　exceptionally　busy　morning。　There　was　a　board　meeting　this　afternoon；　and　right　now　he　had　several　pressing　problems　to　consider　in　advance　of　it。　Hoping　to　wind　up　the　interview；　he　asked；　〃When　did　Pathology　last　run　a　bacteria　test　on　the　dishwashers？〃
　Hilda　Straughan　considered。　〃I　could　check；　but　I　think　it's　about　six　months　ago。〃
　〃We'd　better　have　them　do　another。　Then　we'll　know　exactly　where　we　stand。〃
　〃Very　well；　Mr。　T。〃　Mrs。　Straughan　resigned　herself　to　acplishing　nothing　more　today。　〃Shall　I　speak　to　Dr。　Pearson？〃
　〃No；　I'll　do　it。〃　The　administrator　made　a　penciled　note。　At　least；　he　thought；　I　can　save　Joe　Pearson　a　similar　session　to　this。
　〃Thank　you；　Mr。　T。〃　The　chief　dietitian　eased　herself　upward　and　out　of　the　chair。　He　waited　until　she　had　gone；　then　carefully　moved　the　file　tray　back　to　its　original　position。
　
　David　Coleman　was　returning　to　Pathology　from　lunch　in　the　cafeteria。　Making　his　way　through　the　corridors　and　down　the　basement　stairway；　he　pondered　over　the　time　he　had　spent　so　far　with　Dr。　Joseph　Pearson。　Up　to　this　moment；　he　decided；　it　had　been　unsatisfactory　and　inconclusive。
　Pearson　had　been　cordial　enough…later；　if　not　at　the　beginning。　On　finding　Coleman　waiting　in　his　office　his　first　remark　had　been；　〃So　you　really　meant　what　you　said　about　starting　right　away。〃
　〃There　didn't　seem　much　point　in　waiting。〃　He　had　added　politely；　〃I've　been　looking　around　the　labs。　I　hope　you　don't　mind。〃
　〃That's　your　privilege。〃　Pearson　had　said　it　with　a　half…growl；　as　if　it　were　an　invasion　he　did　not　like　but　had　to　put　up　with。　Then；　as　if　realizing　his　own　ungraciousness；　he　had　added；　〃Well；　I　guess　I　should　wele　you。〃
　When　they　had　shaken　hands　the　older　man　had　said；　〃First　thing　I　have　to　do　is　get　some　of　this　work　cleared　away。〃　He　gestured　at　the　untidy　pile　of　slide　folders；　dockets；　and　loose　memoranda　on　his　desk。　〃After　that　maybe　we　can　figure　out　what　you'll　be　doing　around　here。〃
　Coleman　had　sat；　with　nothing　else　to　do　but　read　a　medical　journal；　while　Pearson　had　plowed　through　some　of　the　papers。　Then　a　girl　had　e　in　to　take　dictation；　and　after　that　he　had　acpanied　Pearson　to　a　gross　conference　in　the　autopsy…room　annex。　Sitting　beside　Pearson　with　two　residents…McNeil　and　Seddons…on　the　opposite　side　of　the　dissecting　table；　he　had　felt　very　much　like　a　junior　resident　himself。　There　had　been　almost　nothing　for　him　to　contribute；　Pearson　had　conducted　the　gross　conference　with　Coleman　merely　a　spectator。　Nor　had　the　older　man　made　any　acknowledgment　of　Coleman's　status　as　the　new　assistant　director　of　the　entire　department。
　Later　he　and　Pearson　had　gone　to　lunch　together　and；　in　the　course　of　it；　Pearson　had　introduced　him　to　a　few　people　on　the　medical　staff。　Then　the　older　pathologist　had　excused　himself　and　left　the　table；　saying　there　was　some　urgent　work　he　had　to　attend　to。　Now　Coleman　was　returning　to　Pathology　alone；　weighing　in　his　mind　the　problem　which　seemed　to　face　him。
　He　had　anticipated　some　slight　resistance　from　Dr。　Pearson；　of　course。　From　odd　pieces　of　information　which　had　e　to　him　he　had　pieced　together　the　fact　that　Pearson　had　not　wanted　a　second　pathologist；　but　he　had　certainly　not　expected　anything　quite　like　this。
　He　had　assumed；　at　the　very　least；　that　there　would　be　an　office　ready　for　him　on　arrival　and　a　few　clearly　defined　duties。　Certainly　David　Coleman　had　not　expected　to　take　over　a　great　number　of　major　responsibilities　at　once。　He　had　no　objection　to　the　senior　pathologist　checking　on　him　for　a　while；　in　fact；　in　Pearson's　position；　he　himself　would　take　the　same　precaution　with　a　newer。　But　this　situation　went　far　beyond　that。　Apparently；　despite　his　letter；　no　thought　whatever　had　been　given　to　what　Coleman's　duties　were　to　include。　The　idea　seemed　to　be　that　he　should　sit　around　until　Dr。　Pearson　could　take　enough　time　away　from　his　mail　and　various　other　chores　to　hand　out　a　few　tasks。　Well；　if　that　were　the　case；　some　of　the　thinking　would　have　to　be　changed…and　soon。
　David　Coleman　had　long　been　aware　of　defects　in　his　own　character；　but　he　was　equally　aware　of　a　number　of　important　qualities。　Among　the　most　significant　was　his　own　record　and　ability　as　physician　and　pathologist。　Kent　O'Donnell　had　stated　nothing　more　than　truth　when　he　had　referred　to　Coleman　as　highly　qualified。　Despite　his　youthfulness　he　already　had　qualifications　and　experience　which　many　practicing　pathologists　would　find　it　hard　to　match。　Certainly　there　was　no　reason　for　him　to　stand　in　awe　of　Dr。　Joseph　Pearson　and；　while　he　was　prepared　to　defer　a　little　to　the　other　man's　age　and　seniority；　he　had　no　intention　of　being　treated；　himself；　like　a　raw　and　inexperienced　hand。
　There　was　another　strength；　too：　a　feeling　which　overrode　all　other　considerations；　whether　of　character；　attempts　at　tolerance；　or　anything　else。　It　was　a　determination　to　practice　medicine　unpromisingly；　cleanly；　honestly…even　exactly；　as　far　as　exactness　was　possible　in　medical　affairs。　For　any　who　did　less…and　even　in　his　own　few　years　he　had　seen　and　known　them…the　promisers；　the　politicians；　the　lazy；　the　at…any…cost　ambitious…David　Coleman　had　only　anger　and　disgust。
　If　he　had　been　asked　from　whence　this　feeling　sprang；　he　would　have　found　it　hard　to　answer。　Certainly　he　was　no　sentimentalist；　nor　had　he　entered　medicine　because　of　some　overt　urge　to　aid　humanity。　The　influence　of　his　own　father　might　have　had　some　effect　but；　David　Coleman　suspected；　not　too　much。　His　father；　he　realized　now；　had　been　an　averagely　good　physician；　within　the　limits　of　general　practice；　but　there　had　always　been　a　striking　difference　between　their　two　natures。　The　elder　Coleman　had　been　a　warm；　outgoing　personality　with　many　friends；　his　son　was　cool；　hard　to　know；　often　aloof。　The　father　had　joked　with　his　pat