Flashback by Michael Palmer Page A

store nearly two years ago to a chain outfit named Eagle Pharmaceuticals and Surgical Supplies. I do not know how that particular deal, with that particular company, was brought about, but I can guess now that it was no accident. Richard did not want to sell, but he needed the money to pay an enormous debt—a hospital bill and a surgeons bill, Zachary—run up by his wife, now his late wife, Yvette, during a series of cancer operations.”
    Beaulieu chewed on a bite of sandwich as he gauged Zack’s reaction.
    “Did you perform the operations?” Zack asked.
    The surgeon shook his head. “The Coulombes had been my patients for many years, but shortly before Yvette began having symptoms, the rumors about me began circulating. Like most of the other people in town, they decided, or were told—I’m still not exactly certain which—to go and see Jason Mainwaring, instead. They were also told that their insurance coverage was quite limited, but that barring complications, most of Yvettes bills would be covered.”
    “But complications there were.”
    “Four separate operations, all of them indicated and due tounforeseeable circumstances, as far as I can tell; but four nonetheless. Then there was a protracted stay in the Sterling Nursing Home. In fact, Yvette never did return home before she died.”
    “And, of course, there were more bills for that. I get the picture.”
    “Actually,” Beaulieu said gravely, “you haven’t gotten the picture at all … yet. You see, Ultramed Corporation not only owns our hospital, it now owns both nursing homes in town as well. Did you know that?”
    “No,” Zack said. “No, I didn’t.”
    “The corporate name is the Leeward Company. They own nursing homes and rehabilitation centers all over the east and midwest, and about three years ago they purchased the two here in Sterling. But what not so many people know, including me until just a few months ago, is that Leeward is a division of Ultramed, bought out by them precisely four years ago. The bills for all three institutions—Ultramed-Davis and the two nursing homes—are actually spit out of the same computer. I’m not going to tell you who’s in charge of that computer, but you can guess if you wish.”
    “I don’t have to,” Zack said, wondering why Frank had never mentioned the purchase of the nursing homes to him. “Coulombes story is a very sad one, especially with the unfortunate outcome for his wife. But I see nothing evil or even immoral in it.”
    “That is because you are missing a piece of the puzzle,” Beaulieu said. “A crucial piece. And remember,” he added, “what I am about to reveal to you is just the tip of the iceberg.”
    “Go on,” Zack said, wishing now that the man would not.
    Beaulieu pulled a folded typed sheet from his jacket pocket, smoothed it out on the table, and slid it across to Zack. “As I mentioned before,” he said, “I do not have too many allies in my little crusade. But I do have some. One of them has spent nearly six months traveling from place to place, trying to gather information for me. Just last week he came up with this. It’s a list of the boards of directors of two companies.”
    Zack scanned the parallel lists of names, headed simply R and EPSS. Five of the ten names on each list were identical.
    “What do these letters stand for?” he asked.
    The fire in Guy Beaulieu’s eyes intensified. “The R stands for RIATA of Boston, the megaglomerate that owns Ultramed. In asense, they are our bosses, Zachary. Yours, mine, and every other doctors in town.”
    “And the other?”
    “The other, my friend, stands for Eagle Pharmaceuticals and Surgical Supplies—the corporation that bought out Richard Coulombe. Their boards of directors interlock.”
    Beaulieu illustrated his point by sliding the fingers of one hand between the fingers of the other.
    Before he could respond, Zack saw movement at the corner of his eye. He slid the paper onto his lap at the instant a