Charnel House Read Online Free PDF Page B

it.”
    â€œWas that really all it was? Concussion?”
    The doctor lifted his clipboard and checked it out. “That’s all. Apart from the asthma.”
    â€œAsthma? What asthma? He doesn’t have asthma.”
    The doctor stared at me baldly. “You’re trying to tell me my job?”
    â€œOf course not. But I play tennis with Dan. He doesn’t suffer from asthma. He never has, as far as I know.”
    The doctor kept his hand on the handle of Dan’s door. “Well, that’s your view, Mr.—”
    â€œWhat’s your view?” I asked him.
    The doctor smirked. “I’m afraid that’s confidential between me and my patient. But if he doesn’t have asthma, he certainly does have a severe respiratory complaint. It was exacerbated by the concussion, and he spent three or four hours last night with a breathing mask on. I don’t think I’ve ever come across a case quite as severe.”
    A pretty brunette nurse in a tight white uniform came along the corridor with a tray of hypodermic syringes and bottles of medicine. “I’m sorry I’m behind, Dr. Jarvis,” she said. “Mrs. Walters needed changing again.”
    â€œThat’s all right,” said Dr. Jarvis. “I’ve just been having a top-level medical conference with Mr. Machin’s learned friend here. I’m learning so much, I’m almost reluctant to drag myself away.”
    He opened Dan’s door wider. But I said, “Please, just one thing,” and held his arm. He paused, and looked down at my hand as if something nasty had just dropped on his sleeve from a passing buffalo.
    â€œListen,” he said sourly, “I don’t know what kind of native expertise you have in the field of diagnostic medicine, but I have to continue with your friend’s treatment program right away. So please excuse me.”
    â€œIt’s just the breathing,” I said. “It could be important.”
    â€œOf course it’s important,” retorted Dr. Jarvis sarcastically. “If our patients don’t breathe, we get seriously concerned.”
    â€œWill you hear me out?” I snapped. “Last night, Dan and I got ourselves involved with something to do with breathing. I need to know what made you think he had an asthma attack.”
    â€œWhat the hell are you talking about? Something to do with breathing? You mean you were sniffing glue, something like that?”
    â€œI can’t explain. It wasn’t drugs. But it could be real important.”
    Dr. Jarvis closed the door again, and sighed with exaggerated exasperation. “All right. If you really need to know, Mr. Machin was panting and gasping. Every ninety minutes or so, he began to breathe heavily, finally working up to a real climax of panting. That was all. It was severe, and it was unusual, but there was nothing to suggest that it wasn’t a regular attack of asthma.”
    â€œI’ve just told you. He doesn’t have asthma.”
    Dr. Jarvis lowered his head. “Will you get out of here?” he said quietly. “Visiting time is over, and the last thing I need is homespun advice. Okay?”
    I was about to say something else, but then I checked myself. I guess I would have been just as irked if somebody had strayed into my office and tried to tell me how to exterminate bugs. I raised my hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Okay. I get you. I’m sorry.”
    The nurse opened the door and went in, while I turned to leave. “I really didn’t mean to be rude,” Dr. Jarvis apologized. “But I do know what I’m doing. You can come back again at five if you want to. We should know some more by then.”
    At that second, there was a shrill and horrified shriek from inside Dan’s room. Dr. Jarvis looked at me, and I looked at him, and we both banged the door wide open and pushed our way inside. What I saw right then I couldn’t