Terminal

“I’m concerned about this case, as you can tell,” Brian said. “I’m worried about getting a fair trial here in Miami. I’d prefer that this news conference not turn into the public relations bonanza I believe Forbes expects it to be. Your being there will tone down their rhetoric. It will also help establish you as a responsible individual who is serious about his allegations.”

Sean shrugged. “Okay by me,” he said. “Besides, I’m curious what Dr. Mason will say.”

“Okay by me,” Janet said.

Because of traffic, it took more time than Brian expected to drive from the Dade County Courthouse, but they were still on time for the news conference when they finally pulled into the Forbes parking area. The conference was scheduled to be held in the hospital auditorium, and all the parking spaces near the hospital were occupied. Several TV vans were parked in the fire lane near the hospital’s front door. Brian had to drive around by the research building to find a space.

As they walked around to the hospital, Brian commented on how much media attention the affair was getting. “Let me warn you, this is hot. It’s just the kind of case that gets played out in the media as much as it gets played out in the courts. What’s more, it’s being played on the Forbes’s turf. Don’t be surprised if your reception is less than cool.”

A throng of people was milling about in front of the hospital. Many were reporters, and unfortunately several recognized Sean. They mobbed him, fighting with each other to thrust microphones into his face, everyone asking hostile questions at the same time. Flashbulbs flashed; TV camera lights flooded the scene. By the time Sean, Brian, and Janet reached the front door, Sean was angry. Brian had to restrain him from taking a swing at a few of the photographers.

Inside wasn’t much better. News of Sean’s arrival sent ripples through the surprisingly large crowd. As the three entered the auditorium, Sean heard a chorus of boos rise from the members of the Forbes medical staff who were attending.

“I see what you mean about chilly receptions,” Sean said as they found seats. “Hardly neutral territory.”

“It’s a lynch mob mentality,” Brian said. “But this gives you an idea of what you’re up against.”

The booing and hissing directed at Sean ceased abruptly and was replaced by respectful applause when Dr. Randolph Mason appeared from the wings of the small stage. He walked resolutely to the podium, placing a sizable manila envelope on it. Grasping either side of the podium, he looked out over the audience with his head slightly tilted back. His bearing and appearance were commendably professional, his classically graying hair perfectly coiffed. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, white shirt, and subdued tie. The only splash of color was a lavender silk foulard handkerchief in his breast pocket.

“He looks like everyone’s romantic image of a physician,” Janet whispered. “The kind you’d see on TV.”

Brian nodded. “He’s the kind of man juries tend to believe. This is going to be an uphill battle.”

Dr. Mason cleared his throat, then began speaking. His resonant voice easily filled the small auditorium. He thanked everyone for coming and for supporting the Forbes Cancer Center in the face of the recent accusations.

“Will you be suing Sean Murphy for slander?” one of the reporters yelled out from the second row. But Dr. Mason didn’t have to answer. The entire auditorium erupted in a sustained hiss in response to the reporter’s rudeness. The reporter got the message and meekly apologized.

Dr. Mason adjusted the position of the manila envelope as he collected his thoughts.

“These are difficult times for hospitals and research facilities, particularly specialty hospitals which have the dual objectives of patient care and research. Clinical reimbursement schemes based on diagnosis and standard therapy do not work in environments such as Forbes where treatment plans often follow experimental protocols. Treatment of this sort is intensive and therefore expensive.

“The question is, where is the money supposed to come from for this type of care? Some people suggest it should come from research grants since it is part of the research process. Yet our public funding for general research has gone down, forcing us to seek other sources for financial support, like industry, or even, in exceptional cases, foreign industry. But even this source has limits, especially when the global economy is floundering. Where else can we turn but to the oldest method: private philanthropy.”

“I can’t believe this guy,” Sean whispered. “This is like a fund-raiser pep talk.”

A few people turned to glare at Sean.

“I have devoted my life to the relief of suffering,” Dr. Mason continued. “Medicine and the fight against cancer have been my life since the day I entered medical school. I have always kept the good of mankind as my motivating force and goal.”

“Now he sounds like a politician,” Sean whispered. “When is he going to address the issue?”