Dead Certain

investigation.”
    “I wasn’t there so I can’t say, but I think in part it was a natural unwillingness to consider the possibility of foul play in a hospital. You also have to take into account that death is not an unusual occurrence in a medical setting. I hope you’re not thinking of killing off hospital patients?”
    “No,” I assured her.
    “Then can I ask you what exactly it is that’s prompting your question?”
    “I’m afraid not,” I replied apologetically.
    “Then at least promise me one thing,” she said, suddenly looking stern. “If your question gets any less hypothetical, you’ll come to me first.”
     

CHAPTER 18
     
    In big law firms, light and space are the twin talismans of power. Like some principle of relativity, the closer you are to the top, the more you have. There is nothing subtle about the system. At Callahan Ross you are meant to always know exactly where in the hierarchy you are.
    The first thing I did when I got into the office was pay a visit to the bottom rung of the ladder, to the airless, light-less world of the messengers and file clerks in order to drop off the box of Claudia’s files. I filled out the rush slip, stopping just long enough to pay tribute to James, the former army drill sergeant who presided over the endless stream of paper that was the lifeblood of the firm.
    I decided to climb the six flights of stairs back to my office. I figured it was the only exercise I was likely to get in the foreseeable future. I also knew it was the only time I was going to have to myself that day, and I desperately needed time to think.
    What on earth had I hoped to accomplish by spewing out my crackpot theories to Julia Gordon? Did I really think that she would just sit back and wait patiently for more bodies to turn up? She’d probably been on the phone to the police the minute I left her office.
    Trudging up the spiral of the firm’s internal staircase, I ascended through the well-ordered precincts of real estate, tax, litigation, antitrust, corporate finance, and international law. With every floor the idea of someone systematically killing off Gavin McDermott’s patients seemed increasingly absurd. If the deaths were indeed the result of the acts of a madman, then it truly was a matter for the police. Perhaps if the truth were revealed, the adverse publicity might discourage HCC from pursuing the hospital, just as my mother’s outspokenness had soured discussions with the archdiocese.
    As I finally arrived at the floor that housed the various corporate departments, including my own, I was struck by a truly horrible thought. Elliott had said that there was a difference between being ruthless and ruthlessly refusing to abide by the rules. Was it possible that Gerald Packman was somehow engineering the deaths in order to deliberately make Prescott Memorial seem less desirable and drive down the price? I didn’t like to think that even someone as cold as Packman would be capable of such calculation, but in my experience the higher the stakes, the more ruthless people were prepared to be. Still, if Packman was behind the deaths, then why wasn’t the story public?
    What was he waiting for?
     
    On my way back to my office I stopped to see how document preparation was going on Delirium. I found Jeff Tannenbaum at his desk, up to his eyeballs in paper, cursing softly under his breath. Preparing the documents for a transaction of the sort that we’d negotiated between Delirium and Icon was a monumental task. Unlike litigation, the skills required were not those taught in law school, where the focus is on fact finding, argument, and the application of rules to facts.
    The side of the law for which most people look to lawyers—planning and getting things done—was learned through apprenticeship. In corporate practice, deals were traded and documented at the speed of a fax machine, and the only way to learn what you needed to know was from someone who was experienced and let you participate in the process. Even so, there was always a moment when you had to let go of your mentor’s hand and walk through the minefield on your own. A combination of circumstances had conspired to make the Delirium-Icon deal a closing that Jeff Tannenbaum would have to handle on his own.
    As much as I believed him to be ready—if he wasn’t, we had no business making him a partner—it didn’t make it any easier for me to let go. Most deals are repeats of other deals, with no new ground