Scandalous Behavior

43

Dr. Don was reviewing his e-mails in the account available to his members when he got a jolt.

He found three more similar e-mails in his in-box. Cold sweat ensued. He sent one answer to them all:

He saved the message for use in the future, if he had any more complaints. Then, later in the day he got another e-mail from the first correspondent.

He wrote back:

But for the remainder of the day, every time he opened his e-mail there were more such messages. He went into the bedroom where Cheree was engaged in the always-lengthy process of applying her makeup.

“Something’s up,” he said to her, then told her about the e-mails.

“Is that about all those deeds in the safe?”

“It is.”

“Are you vulnerable?”

“Maybe — probably not.”

“Then don’t sweat it, just call your lawyer.”

He nodded and went back to his study, fighting panic.

Stone got a call from Herbie Fisher the following day. “I’ve got eighteen of Dr. Don’s homeowners signed up,” he said. “Given my progress, if I call all of them, I’m going to have a hundred and fifty or more. Shall I continue?”

“Sure, call them all, get some help around the office.”

“By now, I’m sure Dr. Don has heard from some of these people.”

“Good, I don’t care if he knows.”

“He could be packing his bags.”

“Great, I’d love for him to end up in Venezuela or Somalia — someplace really uncomfortable.”

“Okay, we’ll call ’em all.”

Stone hung up and called Dino. “Herbie Fisher is making real progress on getting together a class for a lawsuit.”

“That’s great.”

“I’m beginning to think that as we close in on Calhoun, he might take it on the lam, as they used to say in Warner Brothers movies.”

“Could be.”

“Do you think you might find a way to mention to the director that Dr. Don could be a flight risk?”

“I think I could do that. If he buys it, he could probably get the guy’s passport on a watch list.”

“I would just love that.” Stone hung up and called Herbie. “How many you got in your class so far?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Go ahead and file the suit. Calhoun is at his New York apartment, as far as I know. Let him hear from us.”

“What if he runs?”

“I’m working on getting his passport invalidated.”

“What a good idea!”

Bright and early the following morning Dr. Don’s doorbell rang, then there was hammering on the door. He got there in his pajamas. A man with a briefcase stood there.

“Dr. Don Beverly Calhoun?”

“Who are you? How did you get past the doorman?”

“I have a delivery for you,” the man said, thrusting a clipboard at him. “Sign on the bottom line.”

Calhoun signed. “What delivery?”

The man handed him an envelope. “You’ve been served, pal.”

Dr. Don closed the door and turned to find Cheree standing behind him in a teddy. “What’s going on? Who was that?”

Calhoun ripped open the envelope and read the first paragraph. “Class-action suit,” he said. “Twenty-three complainants.”

“Come back to bed — that’s going to take months, if not years.” She took his hand and led him back to the bedroom.

Calhoun lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, until the alarm clock went off at eight.