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The Writing on the Wall - Part Eight
by Evilida
Raymond Pope was a diligent man, and he would not let the fact that his daughter was suffering from an unknown illness interfere with what he knew to be his duty. Without his steady hand, his department would fall to pieces, and that, in turn, would cause perhaps irreparable harm to the interests of his country. He needed to be in constant contact with Washington. The young black doctor had caught him using his cellphone twice before, and each time had pointed out the signs prohibiting the use of wireless devices anywhere on hospital premises. He had told him that the cellphone could interfere with the delicate equipment keeping the patients alive. Pope had his own priorities, however. He could not ignore his responsibility to his department and to his country. He just took his cellphone into a stall in the men's room where the doctor, Foreman, could not see him.
"No, " he said. "I don't care about the ambassador's chauffeur. We already know he's a double agent for Mossad. I'm more concerned about the other matter we discussed - the incident involving the cultural attache and the stolen silver cow creamer. He's going to try to send it home by diplomatic bag."
"Mr. Pope, is that you?" said a voice on the other side of the stall door.
Raymond Pope froze. "I can't talk now," he whispered and terminated the call. "Dr. Foreman?" he replied in a louder voice.
"Mr. Pope, I know that you've been talking on your cellphone again. I'm going to have to ask you to leave the hospital. If necessary, I'll have security escort you out."
"But my daughter is ill. I can't leave her."
"I can't allow you to endanger patients' lives," Foreman said sternly. "If you give me your cellphone and your Blackberry, I won't have security throw you out. I'll take them to the security desk in the lobby, and you can pick them up when you leave."
Pope left the stall and handed the wireless devices over to Foreman. If he were in Washington, the young man never dared confront him. Pope felt his power - and his sense of control over his life - slipping away more and more every minute he spent away from Washington. He decided that he tell Dr. Cuddy, the Chief of Medicine, about Foreman's impertinent behaviour. Lisa Cuddy, at least, had some idea of Raymond Pope's true stature and position.
When House saw the patient's father cornering Lisa Cuddy outside her office, he headed towards her room. Leonora Pope's battles with anorexia and her current illness had left her frail and waiflike. Her dandelion hair and her pale bluish white skin made her look like a China doll. Her stepmother sat at her bedside, leafing through a magazine while she waited for her to wake up. She displayed no surprise when House entered the room, nor did she object when House gently ran his fingers through her stepdaughter's hair.
"How is she?" Mrs. Pope asked.
"She's being treated for dehydration. Other than the fact that she had been vomiting for days, we haven't been able to find anything wrong with her."
"She hasn't thrown up yet today. Maybe she's getting better."
" Maybe. Let's talk about her medical history. Any history of stomach problems or ulcers?"
"Nothing like that."
"I've seen her records from Green Hill, and they don't tell me much. Was she a drug user?"
"No."
"Are you sure? How well do you know your stepdaughter?"
"Very well. I've known Leonora since she was a baby. I went to boarding school with Judith, Leo's mother, and we stayed close friends over the years. In school, Judith was a sweet girl but fragile. She used to suffer from sick headaches and allergies, and she used to get very upset quite easily. I was always a calming influence; I have a naturally even temperament. Leo wasn't like Judith growing up. Leo was a real tomboy - never frightened of anyone or anything. Raymond and Judith took her to half a dozen different cities around the world, and she always adjusted really quickly."
"I'm going to ask you to give us a list of those cities. Your stepdaughter had anorexia?"
"Yes. When Leo was twelve, her ballet teacher kept telling her she was too solid and muscular to be a ballerina. She needed to be more "swan-like." That was the trigger. Judith found an excellent treatment centre for Leo in Switzerland, and she responded very well. Leo had a slight relapse after her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, but she pulled herself together again.
Even after her mother's death, Leo coped. She seemed to have beaten anorexia and was well enough to go to university. Raymond and I didn't hear from her much, which wasn't surprising; she had her own life to lead. We didn't know anything was going wrong with her until a few months ago, when we got a call from Student Health that she was acting irrationally. That's when Raymond sent her to Green Hill.
I've been told that I appear to be cold and uncaring. I was raised not to display emotion, but I assure you that I feel it. I love Leo just as I loved her mother. Leo understands about me and her father. We were both lost after Judith's death. Raymond needed someone to run his home, and I had just divorced and was looking for some sort of purpose. Maybe it was a mistake. Judith and Leonora are all Raymond and I have in common. Please, doctor, help Leo."
"Foreman," House said, as he entered the conference room," you didn't tell me the patient is a blonde."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Foreman asked.
"Have you seen her father? He has dark brown hair. Judging by the second Mrs. Pope and by the way he drooled over Cuddy and spurned our fair-haired Chase here, Mr. Pope has a thing for brunettes. I bet that the first Mrs. Pope was a brunette as well, which means that his daughter's flaxen curls are not the product of nature. Cross hair loss off the white board. It's not a symptom; it's the result of a bad dye job. I can understand Foreman and Chase missing this, but you, Cameron, should have caught it. Otherwise, what's the point of your being a girl?"
"So our remaining symptoms are continually vomiting and stomach pain," Chase said. "We've already ruled out the obvious causes such as stomach cancer or ulcers."
"Foreman also left out the part where the patient's father is a bigwig in the State Department."
"That's because I didn't know it," Foreman protested. "The hospital where she had been staying didn't have anything about her father in her records, and she was in no condition to answer any questions."
House ignored the interruption. "Which means that he and his family make frequent trips abroad, where his daughter could have contracted a tropical illness or parasite. Have you tested her for schistosomiasis?"
"We did a blood antibody test," Cameron confirmed.
"What about poisoning?" Chase suggested. "She could be using cocaine or some other drug loaded with chemical impurities, or she could have come in contact with highly toxic pesticides that are banned here, but are still being sold in Third World countries."
"She hasn't been out of the U.S. for more than a year, according to her father," Cameron said. "There wouldn't be such a long delay between exposure and symptoms."
"Test her anyway," House said.
Roy Wilson had already spent the seven hundred dollars his brother had given him. Most of it had gone to a lap dancer named Georgia Peachum, who currently was asleep beside him. The lighting in the strip club had certainly been kinder to her than the hundred watt bulb in Roy's ceiling. She looked twenty years older. Heavy stage makeup had smeared over her cheeks and caked in the corners of her eyes, accentuating her wrinkles. The smell of cigarette smoke and sour sweat made him want to open a window, despite the rush hour noise below. Suddenly impatient for her to be gone, Roy got out of bed. Georgia groaned but did not wake up. He went his tiny bathroom and filled a glass with water. Standing over the sleeping woman, he dipped his fingers into the glass and sprinkled droplets of cold water over her. She opened her bleary, bloodshot eyes.
"Wake up, sweetness," he said. "I don't have any more money, so you might as well leave."
Fifteen minutes later, Roy was alone again and enjoying a hot shower. He hadn't intended to go through the money so quickly. He had wanted to give at least part of it to the landlord, to keep him happy. Roy was already three weeks behind on the rent and his landlord was threatening eviction. Roy didn't let that bother him. He could always get more money from Jimmy.
James Wilson had just had an uncomfortable conversation with his bank manager, who was curious as to why the oncologist suddenly wanted to withdraw ten thousand dollars in cash. Finally, the bank manager arranged to have Wilson's money ready that afternoon. Wilson wasn't sure about the cost of setting up a new life. Roy would presumably need a reliable used car to drive, and he would need enough money to live on until he could find a job in New Mexico or Arizona. Maybe Roy would want to buy a fake id, and Wilson had no idea how much that would cost. He thought ten thousand dollars would be enough to cover all expenses. Roy could be touchy about money. If he offered him too much, Roy might be offended; if he offered too little, Roy would attack him for being stingy and selfish.
Driving to the hospital, Wilson wondered where he should keep the money until he had a chance to give it to Roy. His hotel room was not safe because the money might be found by one of the cleaning staff, and neither were his office, his car, or his storage locker. House's apartment had recently been burgled, so it was obviously not a good place to store a large amount of cash. Cuddy had an alarm system installed at her house, but he was reluctant to ask her to keep the money without giving her a reason.
Lost in his thoughts, Wilson almost missed the red light in front of him and slammed on his brakes. A startled pedestrian looked up at the sound of squealing tires, and Wilson made an apologetic gesture. His hand wandered to the back of his neck, where the muscles felt hot and tender.
Wilson did not show up at the Tuesday morning meeting of departmental heads. On those occasions when Wilson could not attend, he always sent someone else from the Oncology Department to cover for him. This time there was simply an empty space at the table. House was also a departmental head, but seldom attended the meetings. If something was decided in one of the meetings that he had to know about, Cuddy or Wilson would tell him about it later. Wilson had House's proxy vote and always scrupulously voted the way he thought House would on any issue that came up, or at least the way that House would have voted had he actually cared. Because one departmental head was suddenly called away to attend to an emergency and another was off with the flu, there were not sufficient attendees to make a quorum. Cuddy had prepared a detailed proposal for new treatment protocols at the clinic. Now her proposal would have to be postponed, and she was angry.
"Where is Wilson?" she said. "He was supposed to be at the meeting but he didn't show up. He's not in his office either."
"No idea," House said. "Was I supposed to be at the meeting too, or was it a secret?"
"Yes, technically you were supposed to be there, but I knew you wouldn't show up. Wilson was going to back me up on the new clinic protocols."
"How was I going to vote?"
"Wilson said you'd be against it, because you hate change."
"So it would have worked out the same whether he showed up or not."
"That's not the point. If you see Wilson, tell him I'm looking for him."
"You can tell him yourself. He just got off the elevator."
Cuddy swivelled on her stiletto heels. Through the glass walls of House's office, she saw the oncologist head towards his office. He had obviously just arrived at the hospital.
"Thanks very much for siccing Cuddy on me," Wilson said. He took a bite of his egg salad sandwich.
"I wasn't the one who missed Cuddy's all-important staff meeting. Well, I was, but she didn't care. That's the problem with being dependable. If you're dependable and you don't show up when you should, people are furious. If you have a reputation for being undependable, no one is upset when you don't show, and they're pleasantly surprised when you do. It's much easier being undependable. I highly recommend it."
"I'll try to remember that the next time you need a favour."
House eyed the other half of Wilson's sandwich. Prudently, Wilson moved his plate farther away. House had to content himself with the pickle on the side of Wilson's plate. It wasn't much of a prize since Wilson didn't even like pickles and would have given it to House if he'd asked. House spotted Cameron, Chase and Foreman sitting together on the other side of the cafeteria. Cameron and Chase were sitting so close that they were almost touching. Just then, Chase made some sort of joke, and Cameron laughed. It was obvious that their on-again off-again relationship was on again. House suppressed a brief pang of jealousy. Cameron had been interested in House, and House had been flattered. However, he had realized that Cameron was only attracted to House because she thought he was wounded. She confused love with pity.
"Are you listening to me, House?"
"Of course, I'm listening."
"So you'll do it."
"Do what?"
"I knew you weren't listening," Wilson sighed theatrically. "Bonnie's going away on vacation. I told her I'd water her plants and check up on Hector. She's going to drop by and leave me her key before she goes to the airport. I'm going to have to leave early today, so I won't be there to meet her. "
"You don't expect me to look after Hector again do you?"
"Of course not. Poor Hector barely survived his last visit with you. Hector's going to a very reputable kennel. Bonnie can slide the key to her condo under my office door, but knowing her she'll probably have a long list of instructions. Just nod your head when she talks and ask her to write it down for me, okay?"
"She doesn't think you'll be able to water the plants without a list of instructions."
"She grows orchids. Expensive, delicate orchids. She doesn't let just anybody look after her plants."
"I don't think you understand divorce. You're nicer to your wives after the divorce than you ever were when you were actually married."
When Tritter phoned, Roy didn't answer. He was tired of being on a leash. Tritter needed to be reminded that Roy was essential and had to be treated with respect. He wouldn't like what Roy was planning to do, which was half of the fun of doing it. The other half was watching Jimmy squirm. Jimmy tried to hide it, but he was afraid of his brother. When Roy moved forward, Jimmy edged back. He always kept his distance as if Roy were a dog that might bite. Roy was a bit insulted by Jimmy's reaction. He was also excited by it.
Roy didn't park in the PPTH parking lot, but in front of a convenience store a block away. A couple of young women wearing hospital uniforms had just bought cigarettes. They stopped in the parking lot to light them up. They were very young.
"Hey," Roy said to the prettier of the two women," Do you ladies work at Princeton Plainsboro over there? I'm thinking of applying for a job there."
"Yeah, we work there."
"Is it a good place to work? Good people?"
"It's okay. What kind of job are you applying for?"
"Maybe security, maybe janitorial. Got to see where there are any vacancies. I hear there are some strange people there - people you want to avoid."
"You get that in any large organization," said the less pretty one. "My supervisor's okay."
"Either of you heard of this guy House. I hear you've really got to keep away from him."
"Oh, House. He's got a reputation. I could tell you stories! You know he punched out one of the other doctors. This really cute Australian guy. No reason, just knocked him out. He was unconscious!" The pretty girl demonstrated by rolling her eyes up in her head.
"There was a reason," the other said. "I heard it was all about this female doctor. They were both in love with her. That's why."
"No way! I've heard he's gay."
"Which one, the Australian one or House?"
"House, he's gay. He and Dr. Wilson are, you know, involved."
"Dr. Wilson! You're kidding! He's been married something like five times. You should see the way he flirts with anything in a skirt. My mom came to town and I was showing her the hospital, the place I work, and Dr. Wilson comes along and starts coming on to her! Right in front of me! I swear. "
"That's all camouflage. House and Wilson, swear to God."
"Who's Dr. Wilson?" Roy pretended ignorance.
"The Head of Oncology. He's so nice and so not gay!"
"Either of you know Dr. Cuddy?"
"Sure, she's the Head of Medicine. She's always bustling around, going to meetings and organizing things. I don't know what she's like to work with. She seems kind of scary to me," said the pretty one.
"Intimidating, you mean?" asked Roy.
"Yeah, intimidating. She's got these super high heels and these tarty tight skirts and low cut blouses. She's like one of those women with whips."
"Dominatrixes," said the other, "but that's not true. Any woman in power, somebody's going to say that. She spoke at career day at my high school. She was really inspirational."
"If you're working janitorial or security, you won't have much to do with the doctors anyway. We've got to get back. If you want to come with us, I can introduce you to Carl, the head of security."
"You two go ahead," said Roy. "I've got to pick up my kids at school."
Roy waited until the two young women had left and then followed them to PPTH. The hospital was a labyrinth and it took him a while to find his brother's office. He knocked but no one answered; the door was locked. Roy had never been particularly adept at lock picking, and lingering might draw the attention of hospital security.
"Are you looking for Dr. Wilson?"
The speaker was a pleasant looking young woman with her hair drawn back in a ponytail.
"Yeah, I'm a friend of his. We were going to play golf," Roy said.
"Really. I didn't know Dr. Wilson played golf," she said.
"He doesn't," said House. "Wilson's left for the day, but his friend and I have something to discuss, don't we?"
"Sure," Roy said. He followed House to his office.
House had remembered that Bonnie was due to drop by PPTH in a few minutes to drop off her keys. He still suspected that Bonnie's mysterious client "Rory" was actually Roy. If he could stall Roy for a few minutes, he could bring the two of them together and confirm his suspicions. House carefully shut the blinds that covered the glass walls of his office.
"You don't want to be seen," he said. "So why are you here? If the police are looking for you, wouldn't they expect you to come to see Wilson? Aren't you taking a big risk?"
"It's a risk," Roy said,"but I'm desperate to see Jimmy. Where is he?"
"The mall was a big risk too, wasn't it? But you didn't hesitate. Your brother says that he is bringing along a friend of his, someone you have never met, to your secret meeting, and that doesn't bother you. Maybe I have a suspicious nature, but I'd be curious about why "Jimmy" wanted to bring a friend along for this touching brotherly reunion. Weren't you worried that his friend might be an undercover cop?"
"I trust Jimmy absolutely. Maybe you don't understand because you don't have a brother like Jimmy."
"No, I don't. I've got a friend like him. My friend is sort of a fugitive too. He doesn't like it. He's always watching - looking for undercover cops, looking for Tritter. He's stressed out. He missed a meeting this morning; he never misses meetings."
"Yeah, well, Jimmy's got weak nerves."
"You must have exceptionally strong ones though. The prospect of being arrested doesn't seem to concern you at all. You went straight to Wilson's office. Didn't you think that the police might be watching it?"
"I was careful. I checked that there were no cops."
"No, you didn't. If you'd checked, you would have seen me. You walked out of the elevator and straight toward Wilson's office. You didn't look around to see if there were cops. You knew there weren't going to be any. How did you know that?"
"Look, I came here to speak to Jimmy."
"I told your brother isn't here. He left work early. You can talk to me instead. What is it you want? Money?"
"I could use some money. The money that Jimmy gave me yesterday, it all went to my rent. I don't have anything to live on. If you lend me a few bucks, Jimmy will pay you back."
House slapped his pockets as if he were looking for his wallet. "I can lend you fifty, but if Wilson asks, you say I gave you a hundred, okay?"
Roy smiled. This was the sort of petty corruption he understood - fifty dollars for House and fifty dollars for Roy. He thought he'd discovered a kindred spirit, and he didn't pause to consider that fifty dollars to House was very small change indeed.
There was a knock on the door and Cameron put her head in the door.
"Sorry to interrupt, but Bonnie Wilson came by. She left this key and these notes for Dr. Wilson. She said to give them to you, since he wasn't in."
Cameron put the key and the notes on House's desk and left. Roy realized how close he had come to being exposed. For a second, his anger at nearly being tricked showed on his face, but was quickly replaced by a genial expression. House had been watching, however, and he hadn't missed the transformation.
"I don't think I'm going to lend you any money after all," he said. "I think you'd better leave before I call the police."
"You wouldn't do that. Everyone in the hospital knows how close you two are. You wouldn't turn me in because it would hurt Jimmy."
"I wouldn't count on it. Haven't you heard I'm a selfish bastard?"
Roy slammed the door to the office on his way out. His impulsive visit to the hospital had been a disaster. Thank God Tritter didn't know anything about it. He would be furious if he realized how badly Roy had screwed up.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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