Kane and Abel/Sons of Fortune Read online

  He knew that Fletcher Davenport would be covering roughly the same circuit in another part of the state. By the end of the campaign, there wouldn’t be a religious gathering where they hadn’t knelt down, taken off their shoes, or covered their heads in order to prove that they were both God-fearing citizens. Even if it wasn’t necessarily their own particular God being revered, they had at least demonstrated willingness to stand, sit and kneel in His presence.

  Tom decided not to switch on the one o’clock news, as he could see no purpose in waking Nat only to hear a regurgitation of what they had listened to thirty minutes before.

  They both missed the newsflash.

  An ambulance was on the scene within minutes, and the first thing the paramedics did was to call in the fire department. The driver was pinned against the steering wheel, they reported, and there was no way of prying open his door without the use of an acetylene torch. They would have to work quickly if they hoped to get the injured man out of the wreck alive.

  It wasn’t until the police had checked the license plate on their computer back at headquarters that they realized who it was trapped behind the wheel. As they felt it was unlikely that the senator had been drinking, they assumed he must have fallen asleep. There were no skid marks on the road and no other vehicles involved.

  The paramedics radioed ahead to the hospital, and when they learned the identity of the victim the duty physician decided to page Ben Renwick. Remembering his seniority, Renwick didn’t expect to be woken if there was another surgeon available to do the job.

  “How many other people in the car?” was Dr. Renwick’s first question.

  “Only the senator,” came back the immediate reply.

  “What the hell was he doing driving himself at that time of night?” muttered Renwick rhetorically. “What is the extent of his injuries?”

  “Several broken bones, including at least three ribs and the left ankle,” said the duty physician, “but I’m more worried about the loss of blood. It took the fire boys nearly an hour to cut him out of the wreck.”

  “OK, make sure my team is scrubbed up and ready by the time I arrive. I’ll call Mrs. Davenport.” He hesitated for a moment. “Come to think of it,” he said, “I’ll call both Mrs. Davenports.”

  Annie was standing in the biting wind by the hospital emergency entrance when she saw the ambulance speeding toward her. It was the accompanying police squad cars that made her think that it had to be her husband. Although Fletcher was still unconscious, they allowed her to clutch his limp hand as they wheeled him through to the operating room. When Annie first saw the condition Fletcher was in, she didn’t believe anyone could save him.

  Why had she attended that charity meeting when she should have been in Madison with her husband? Whenever she was with Fletcher, she always drove him home. Why had she ignored his protestations when he’d insisted that he’d enjoy the drive—it would give him some time to think, and in any case, it was such a short distance, he’d added. He’d only been five miles from home when he’d driven off the road.

  Ruth Davenport arrived at the hospital a few moments later, and immediately set about finding out as much as she could. Once she had spoken to the duty administrator, Ruth was able to reassure Annie of one thing. “Fletcher couldn’t be in better hands than Ben Renwick. He’s quite simply the best in the state.” What she didn’t tell her daughter-in-law was that they only got him out of bed when the odds of pulling a patient through were low. Ben Renwick wasn’t a betting man.

  Martha Gates was the next to arrive, and Ruth repeated everything that she’d picked up. She confirmed that Fletcher had three broken ribs, a broken ankle and a ruptured spleen, but it was the loss of blood that was causing the professionals to be anxious.

  “But surely a hospital as large as St. Patrick’s has a big enough blood bank to cope with that sort of problem?”

  “Yes would be the usual answer,” replied Ruth, “but Fletcher is AB negative, the rarest of all the blood groups, and although we’ve always maintained a small reserve stock, when that school bus careered off Route 95 in New London last month and the driver and his son turned out to be AB negative, Fletcher was the first to insist that the entire batch should be shipped out to the New London hospital immediately, and we just haven’t had enough time to replace it.”

  An arc lamp was switched on and lit up the hospital entrance. “The vultures have arrived,” said Ruth, looking out of the window. She turned and faced her daughter-in-law. “Annie, I think you should talk to them, it just might be our only chance of locating a blood donor in time.”

  When she rose on Sunday morning, Su Ling decided not to wake Nat until the last possible moment; after all, she had no idea what time it was when he’d crept into bed.

  She sat in the kitchen, made herself some fresh coffee, and began to scan the morning papers. Fletcher’s speech seemed to have been well received by the citizens of Madison, and the latest opinion poll showed the gap between them had narrowed by another point, bringing Nat’s lead down to three percent.

  Su Ling sipped her coffee and pushed the paper to one side. She always switched on the television just before the hour to catch the weather forecast. The first person to appear on the screen even before the sound came on was Annie Davenport. Why was she standing outside St. Patrick’s, Su Ling wondered? Was Fletcher announcing some new health care initiative? Sixty seconds later she knew exactly why. She dashed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to wake Nat and tell him the news. A remarkable coincidence. Or was it? As a scientist, Su Ling gave scant credence to coincidence. But she had no time to consider that now.

  A sleepy Nat listened as his wife repeated what Annie Davenport had just said. Suddenly he was wide awake, leaped out of bed quickly and threw on yesterday’s clothes, not bothering to shave or shower. Once dressed, he ran downstairs, pulling on his shoes only when he was in the car. Su Ling was already behind the wheel with the engine running. She took off the moment Nat slammed the car door.

  The radio was still tuned into the 24-hour news station, and Nat listened to the latest bulletin while trying to tie up his laces. The on-the-spot reporter couldn’t have been more explicit: Senator Davenport was on a ventilator, and if someone didn’t donate four pints of AB negative blood within hours, the hospital feared for his survival.

  It took Su Ling twelve minutes to reach St. Patrick’s by simply ignoring the speed limit—not that there was a lot of traffic on the road at that time on a Sunday morning. Nat ran into the hospital while Su Ling went in search of a parking space.

  Nat spotted Annie at the end of the corridor and immediately called out her name. She turned and looked startled when she saw him charging toward her. Why was he running? was her first reaction.

  “I came just as soon as I heard,” shouted Nat, still on the move, but all three women just continued to stare at him, like rabbits caught in a headlight. “I’m the same blood group as Fletcher,” Nat blurted out as he came to a halt by Annie’s side.

  “You’re AB negative?” said Annie in disbelief.

  “Sure am,” said Nat.

  “Thank God,” said Martha. Ruth quickly disappeared into the intensive care unit, and returned a moment later with Ben Renwick by her side.

  “Mr. Cartwright,” he said thrusting out his hand, “My name is Dr. Renwick, and I’m …”

  “The hospital’s senior consultant, yes, I know you by reputation,” said Nat, shaking his hand.

  The surgeon gave a slight bow. “We have a technician ready to take your blood …”

  “Then let’s get on with it,” said Nat, pulling off his jacket.

  “To begin with we’ll need to run some tests and check if your blood is an exact match, and then screen it for HIV and hepatitis B.”

  “Not a problem,” said Nat.

  “But I’m afraid, Mr. Cartwright, I’ll also need at least three pints of your blood if Senator Davenport is to have any chance of survival, and that will require several indemnity forms s