"Puppet Master"
Chapter Six-"Bringing Up the Lights"
By: Purpleu
House made his way through the lobby to the elevators, thinking about what had just happened; Lydia and his team met, they seemed to genuinely like each other, Lydia joined in on the DDX and was in fact helpful…and none of this really bothered him. Personal life and professional met head on and no train wreck occurred. True, it's only a first meeting, but it wasn't that bad. House was unsure what to make of it; somehow he still felt uneasy with the concept. He sighed and pushed the button to call the elevator. Only time will tell.
"Dr. House!" House grimaced. He hated it when someone called out his name. It was either someone about to annoy him with something or bad news. He turned and saw the head cashier from the cafeteria walking quickly toward him.
"Dr. House, I need you to sign this for the food your employees ordered." She held out a clipboard and pen toward him. House frowned.
"Wasn't that all destroyed in the burning of Atlanta?" House said indicating the cafeteria with his head. The woman looked insulted.
"No, your department's order made it out before the smoke condition started," she said. "I wouldn't be asking you to sign for something we didn't actually serve."
"You're asking me to sign for food aren't you?" The woman thrust the clipboard out so that it was actually resting against House's arm.
"Dr. Wilson told me you would sign for it." House looked at her questioningly.
"Why would I do what Dr. Wilson said?"
"Because he's the Dean which makes him your boss."
"Co-Interim Dean," House corrected. "If you're going to elevate him to sainthood, at least get the title right. And as far as being in charge of me, that's only when we're playing Dungeons and Dragons, but I'm about to move up to the next level." The cashier let out an aggravated sigh.
"Just put your John Hancock on this so I can get back to work," she said once again nudging his arm with the clipboard and nearly waving the pen in his face.
"All right, if you insist," House said like a little kid being made to do something he really didn't want to. He scribbled across the bottom of the page quickly and handed the pen and board back to the cashier.
"Thank you. Enjoy your food." The elevator had arrived and House stepped into it. He turned and faced outward to the lobby.
"I will as soon as I figure out the antidote," he called out. The cashier walked away as the doors on the elevator car closed, proud of herself for getting House to sign. She looked down at the bottom of the board and rolled her eyes in disgust; there was what House wrote: John Hancock.
When the elevator doors opened on the ICU floor, House was pleased to hear a calm quiet rather than the chaos he had expected; however, that pleasure soon turned to pain as he saw Wilson standing by the nurses' station with his head in his hands. Wilson heard the sound of House's cane tapping on the floor, signaling his approach. He turned to look at House, his eyes widened with incredulousness.
"You are not going to believe this," Wilson said.
"I'll believe anything at this point," said House. "Lydia has already informed me that since her rug rats buy into the guy in the red suit, I have to play along. I suppose the overgrown rabbit who's obsessed with handing out painted, embryonic chickens is also in that realm of mythology." House looked at Wilson. "I may have to let them down with a thud."
"Don't you dare," admonished Wilson. "I thought you said you didn't want to screw this up? Breaking the kids' hearts is a big step on the road to disaster."
"I am not heading for Heartbreak Highway. I'm just trying to think about how far I can push the limits, so I can get a handle on everything. Yesterday morning I woke up wondering if I still had enough of a mind left to work a case; I wondered if my future wasn't on the mainline to Hell. Today I wake up with a beautiful woman next to me and I'm helping her plan her new life of which, I am a part. That's a bigger turnaround than if Lincoln had suddenly decided to become a slave owner." Wilson laughed.
"You certainly can't complain about her reaction to your team. Or them to her. They not only got along, they worked on a differential together." Wilson dropped his voice down. "And she gave us some ideas on how to possibly pull the rug out from underneath Hunter." House smiled.
"Dr. Kildare and Perry Mason all rolled into one," House remarked. "Guess I can't complain." He looked toward Tyler Hunter's room. "What's the story with the kid?"
"Got up here, nurses had taken appropriate actions, we pushed an anticonvulsant into his IV, Tyler's fine." Wilson looked at House. "Here's the kicker; I went down and got the printout of the labs. He shows traces of an antiepileptic drug in his body, Gabapentin. It's not on the paperwork that Hunter sent over, nor does the mother know anything about it. She says he had some seizures right after the accident, but when they took him over to St. James, the seizures stopped without explanation." House turned around and leaned against the counter with a smirk on his face.
"I can explain it, all right," he said. "The father already knows that his less than perfect son has something wrong with him; he doesn't want the world to know there's anything else. So along with all the other lies, he makes a lie of omission, has them leave it off the chart. The little bit of interaction he has with his son is a warped mixture of both open caring about his image and hidden disgust at what he's spawned."
"Epilepsy?" questioned Wilson. House nodded his head. "God, this kid was dealt a rough hand."
"The roughest part being the bastard he has for a father." House looked down at the floor. "I suspect he had gotten the script for Gabapentin from the doctors he's whipped over at St. James."
"How did you find out about Hunter handling cases against those doctors? You have some kind of inside source I should know about?" Wilson asked.
"Nope. The filings are a matter of public record. I was able to look them up before Lydia and I met you this morning," House said. "They had four doctors working on the kid's case: two primaries and two pediatric neurologists. One primary was retiring, so he'd probably say yes to anything to avoid the ordeal of facing Hunter in court." Wilson shook his head, still not comprehending House's knowledge of the doctors and their dealings with Hunter.
"You didn't even glance at the paperwork the team had spread out on the table. How do you know who the doctors were on the case? And that one of them was retiring?" House gave Wilson a look.
"You're definitely playing Watson to my Holmes. First, you told me that Foreman spoke to Dr. Murphy earlier, which actually confirmed what I looked up this morning; about three years ago, Hunter had filed a notice of intention to bring suit against Murphy and Carlson, the neurologists, along with Peters, the primary. Gottesman, the other primary was retiring and not part of the suit."
"Dr. Francis Gottesman," Wilson said. "I remember reading about the send-off they gave him at St. James; it was quite the shindig from what I heard."
"When you put fifty years in at the same hospital, it's the least they can do," House noted.
"Wait a minute, you knew about his retirement party?"
"Oddly enough, I was invited to it." House was amused to see the shocked look on Wilson's face. "I didn't go; I told them JLo had put in a request for me to do her pap smear and I just couldn't disappoint her." House saw that the door to Tyler's room was opening. "As far as the information I know: one, the internet is a wonderful thing. Two, standing behind Taub and looking over his shoulder while he peruses the file is easy. It didn't require any extra work on my part, which is just the way I like it." Foreman walked out of Tyler's room and over to House and Wilson.
"That poor woman is a wreck. She is completely overwhelmed thinking about the fact that her son has another major health problem," he said. "Not to mention there's probably a third since the laughing and hand-flapping and such can't be explained by CP or what looks like epilepsy." House walked over to the counter where Wilson and Foreman stood and slammed his fist down.
"We need the damn EEG. And now we can't do it with the anticonvulsant in him," he said. He rested his elbows on the counter dropped his head into his hands, much the way he found Wilson earlier.
"So, it's because of the high dose you had to give him just now that prevents the test. But what would happen if he was tested while on the Gabapentin?" questioned Wilson.
"We would conduct the test after lowering or even withholding the dose twelve hours before the test was conducted." Foreman said.
"And if we did the test without knowing that it was in his system, we would have gotten a false result," said House.
"You think the father had something to do with giving the kid the Gabapentin?" asked Foreman. House picked his head up and looked at Foreman and Wilson.
"I'm willing to bet my life on it." The two gave him a look.
"Let's hope that's not a prophetic choice of words," noted Wilson. House pushed off the counter and walked behind it to sit in an unoccupied chair.
"We've got to find out if there's a place where Hunter keeps any files tucked away for future use," he said. "As much as he wouldn't want anyone to know about his kid's problems, you never know when the information in those files would come in handy for ruining someone's life. I'm going to guess that he has not only the original files with the diagnosis of cerebral palsy, but the information needed to prove that he leaned on the doctors that signed off on the false information in his lawsuit relating to the accident." Foreman looked a little confused.
"House went on line this morning after I called him and found in public records that Hunter had filed a notice of intention in relation to a suit against three of the four doctors that treated Tyler at St. James," Wilson explained seeing the puzzled look on Foreman's face.
"But lawyers usually file suits against everyone, even people seemingly unrelated to the case, just to cover themselves." Foreman observed. "Why leave out one doctor?"
"The doctor in question was retiring. He didn't give a crap," said House. Foreman nodded his head in understanding.
"Look, I did my residency with Jack Murphy. We weren't best buddies or anything, but we did get along well. Maybe I can talk to him. The question is, what do you want from him?" asked Foreman. House leaned forward in the chair and picked up the pen that was sitting on the desk and began rhythmically tapping it on the edge of the desk.
"He's got to be willing to nail Hunter's hide to the wall; come out and say that he was coerced into falsifying both the kid's medical records and the court documents used by Hunter in the suit. And then he has to talk his two fellow conspirators into admitting the same."
"Whoa, House, slow down," said Wilson. "Do you realize what you're asking these three to do? Their medical licenses will be suspended, they'll face legal complications….the list goes on." House smirked and shook his head.
"Having your medical license suspended is no big deal," House said dismissively. "Been there, done that, have the T-shirt, it's starting to fade. If I can get mine back as many times as I have, those guys have nothing to worry about." Wilson and Foreman nodded their heads in agreement. "As far as legal complications, the DA will probably offer them immunity from prosecution. Hunter is not on anyone's good side. He's screwed up several cases coming out of the DA's office, yet they've never gone after him. The state medical licensing board would love it if he was put out of commission. He's wasted their time with tons of frivolous lawsuits." Foreman regarded House with curiosity.
"How do you know all this about Hunter? You didn't find all this on the internet just this morning."
"You've been profiling him," Wilson said with dawning recognition. "You've been collecting all this information to use if he came after you."
"Not if," said House, "When. I knew he would get around to me one day. I'm like a piece of smelly cheese set out in a mousetrap and he's the rat who can't resist a free meal." Foreman tapped the tip of his right shoe against the counter as he looked over at House and Wilson.
"I can give Jack a call and see if I can set up a meeting with him for tomorrow. I'll explain to him what we know, what we suspect and see what I can talk him into," he said. "I can't make any guarantees."
"You don't think that they could be so afraid of Hunter that they wouldn't want to testify against him? Or worse, tip him off?" asked Wilson. House made a face.
"Let's hope not," he said. House noticed Wilson looking around the corner of the nurses' station and saw a nurse and an aide approach Tyler's room with clean linens, a gown and towels as well as a wash basin and toiletries.
"We were going to go in and get him cleaned up now, Dr. Foreman," said the nurse. "Do you think there's any chance to getting Mrs. Hunter to step out? It won't just make things easier for us; I think it's something she needs right now."
"Thirteen's working on that," said Chase as he and Taub emerged from the room. "She needs to get something to eat, for sure. A few hours of sleep would do her good, too."
"How are we going to approach the EEG?" asked Taub. "The cleaner his system is, the truer the reading; but if we take him off his medicine…"
"The medicine we didn't even know he was on," interrupted House.
"…there's a chance he could seize again," Taub continued.
"He had to be on a really small dose, below what it should have been," said Chase, "Or the Gabapentin was stopped a few days ago, leaving only the trace amounts in his body." House's eyes darted quickly about as he assessed the situation.
"So Hunter was counting on us not noticing the presence of the drug or he figured we'd chalk it up to an anomaly and ignore it. He was counting on us doing the EEG on the kid before he seized," House said.
"But what good would that do? The abnormalities that would indicate epilepsy would still be there, with or without the medication, with or without him having a seizure," Taub observed.
"Yes, but if the tadpole started thrashing about after the test, guess who Hunter would blame for the problem?" House got up and walked out from behind the counter. "Even though the test is non-invasive, he'd find a way to make us look like the bad guys." He paused for a moment, then turned to look at Wilson. "I misspoke earlier. He's not going directly after me; he's going to get to me by taking down my team." All stood and stared at each other in disbelief. As Wilson was shaking his head, he noticed that the nurse and aide were still standing nearby.
"Um…I think maybe we should take this back to the conference room. I'll just poke my head in and tell Thirteen…"
"Dr. Wilson, you don't have to worry about trash talking Malcolm Hunter, not in front of us, anyway," said the nurse whose name was Terri. "Kris and I," she said indicating the aide, "are sisters-in-law. I'm married to her brother. Malcolm Hunter ruined the career of Kris's sister, who was also a nurse. She lost her job and her license because he twisted the truth around and made her look not only incompetent, but lying and deceitful as well. That man has to be stopped."
"I hope the son-of-a-bitch burns in Hell," said Kris. At that moment, everyone became aware of the fact that Jeanne Hunter was standing in the hallway outside of her son's room, with Thirteen standing directly behind her.
"You have company in that wish," Jeanne said. "Dr. Foreman, Dr. Wilson, is there any way I can prevent my husband from having access to Tyler? I am becoming fully aware of what my husband has done to hurt my son; I don't want him to have the chance to do him any more harm." Terri, the nurse caught Wilson's eye.
"We're going to step inside and get Tyler cleaned up and comfortable," she said.
"Great. I think Dr. Foreman is going to be writing some orders on how we want the anticonvulsant handled so we can get the EEG done first thing in the morning."
"Let's bring the bull's eye even closer to him," said House. "I'll write the orders. If it's me he wants, and we all know it is, then it's me he's going to get." Terri nodded as she and Kris stepped inside Tyler's room. "What happened that he needs to be cleaned up?"
"I had left the dish with his cereal and his juice cup on his bed tray and when he had the seizure, everything went flying. He's a sticky mess right now," Jeanne said with a little catch in her voice.
"They'll get him all cleaned up, don't worry," Thirteen said. Jeanne nodded her head. She looked at Wilson.
"Now, how do I stop Malcolm from coming near Tyler?" House felt his cell phone vibrate as Mrs. Hunter asked the question. He knew it would require her going to court; there was only so much the hospital could do to prevent Malcolm from having access to his son. As his cell phone continued to vibrate, he became increasingly annoyed. He needed to focus on what was happening here, not…House thought for a second and realized the only person who would be calling him was Lydia. She knew he was busy with the case; if anything she would text him. Taking a few steps away from the group, House pulled his cell phone out and saw that it was, indeed, Lydia.
"Hey, what's up?" he said quickly and quietly. "I really can't talk right now." He glanced up at the clock on the wall and saw it was almost 5:30. "The movers get there?" He heard what seemed to be a sniffling sound coming from the other end of the phone, but didn't pay much attention to it; he was trying to concentrate on what Jeanne Hunter was saying.
"Jeff thinks he has an idea where Malcolm may be hiding the files, so he's going to try…"
"Greg, are you there?" Lydia asked. House had been looking over at Mrs. Hunter to try and focus on what she was saying; now he looked away and down the hall.
"Yeah, I'm here. What's up?"
"You asked me that already. You also asked me if the movers got here and I said yes, but there was a problem." House's attention had turned back to Mrs. Hunter.
"I'll go to family court tonight and get a temporary restraining order if I have to…" That was the last thing House wanted her to do; if Malcolm Hunter was tipped off about their investigation of him, everything would be for naught.
"Greg, I'll talk to you later. You…you're busy." House started to walk back to the nurses' station where everyone was gathered.
"Yeah, later." House hung up his phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
"Mrs. Hunter, I don't know if you could get a judge to listen to a request at this hour," Wilson was saying.
"Besides, I don't think we're ready to unzip our fly," House chimed in. "We need to have proof of a few things before we do that. Some of what you're going to need to help us with won't make for a very pleasant marital environment. Or is that no longer an issue for you?" She gave House a steely stare.
"It's common knowledge that my marriage is a sham. My love for my child is not." House nodded.
"You were saying something before about your husband hiding some files and you might know where they are?"
"Jeff has an idea where they could be. He's looking for them now."
"Isn't there a chance that Hunter could catch him looking for the files?" asked Chase. Jeanne shook her head.
"Malcolm texted me when he got out of court. He was going back home to change for some sort of dinner function he had to attend tonight. Most of the office is going, including Jeff. He was going to show up, take attendance so he knew who was there and then make an excuse of not feeling well to Malcolm. Not that Malcolm would care who was there and who wasn't as long as a certain person was there to keep him entertained," Jeanne said.
"So he was going to go back to the office and look for the file?" asked Foreman. "Isn't that a bit risky?"
"Yeah, but it paid off," a voice from down the hall said. Everyone turned to see Jeffrey Davidson walking briskly toward them. "I haven't had a chance to look them over, but hopefully you'll find what you're looking for in here." He said indicating the large accordion folder he was holding in his hands. House noticed Davidson was wearing a pair of latex gloves.
"Where did you steal those from?" House asked indicating Davidson's hands.
"I grabbed a couple of pairs from the box up on the wall outside Tyler's room."
"Thought maybe you did this kind of detective work all the time and kept a spare pair on you," said House.
"No, but I've seen Malcolm have things fingerprinted when it seems an opponent has a little too much information and is getting the better of him. He assumes there are gremlins in every nook and cranny."
"So not only does he not like to lose, he's paranoid as well," noted Wilson. "Great combination." House's eyes were focused on the wall near Tyler's room.
"Everybody grab several pairs of gloves. That includes you two," he said indicating Mrs. Hunter and Davidson. "Put a pair on." House did likewise. "Take the files from him," he directed Chase. Davidson carefully handed it over. "You two," he said to Taub and Thirteen . "Go down to the clinic and steal a roll of exam table paper. If anyone wants to know what you're doing with it, tell them you're protecting the conference room table so the food from the cafeteria doesn't disintegrate it. After you line the table with the exam paper, lay the files out on the table front to back as they sit in the folder from left to right on the table. That way we keep things in order and can put them back the same way," House said looking at Davidson. He nodded his head in agreement.
"Yes and don't remove any staples. All of the pages have enough bends in them so that folding back the pages won't be noticed," commented Davidson.
"Duly noted. Go make copies of each file, notes from the hospital when he was born, any follow ups with doctors, any test results, therapists' notes. Try to keep them in order as you make the copies; I'm willing to bet Hunter has them in chronological order by year. Go." Taub, Thirteen and Chase took off down the hall. "Use more than one copy machine," House called out. "Those files have to go back before someone notices they're gone." House turned to Foreman. "Go call Murphy and set something up with him for tomorrow, late morning or early afternoon."
"Why not first thing?"
"I want you to do the EEG, since you claim that neurology is your specialty." Foreman made a face.
"It is my specialty."
"That's why I want you here." Foreman smiled a little when he realized that House was giving him a compliment in own unique way.
"I'll go set things up. Is there any point to us staying around tonight? We can't do much of anything until the Gabapentin wears off," said Foreman. House thought for a moment.
"I want someone here in case he seizes as he comes off the drug."
"I'd like it if Dr. Hadley could stay," Jeanne Hunter said. "She's very comforting and very competent."
"Of course," said Wilson as House nodded his head in agreement. "I'll arrange for another Geri-chair to be brought into the room."
"Thank you."
"I'm going to head off and give Jack Murphy a call. I'll see you all tomorrow," Foreman said as he went down the hall.
"By the way, how did you get the key to where Hunter had the files hidden?" asked House of Davidson.
"When Jeanne first started mentioning the idea of taking Tyler to get another opinion, I noticed that one particular drawer on a file cabinet in his office had become a part of Malcolm's ritual when he left the office. He'd always go over and make sure it was locked. Thought maybe the files were in there. Last week, when we were in a negotiating session that went late, Malcolm wanted a file that had been left back at the office. I told him I had forgotten my keys; I'm sure he thought I was an idiot, but I got what I needed." Davidson held up a key on a single silver ring. "I confirmed that Tyler's medical file was in there, made a copy of the key on the way back to the meeting."
"Impressive," said House with a certain amount of respect in his tone. "Adds to the feeling that we're in the middle of a spy novel."
"That's life with Malcolm," Jeanne said. "You're always looking over your shoulder, always questioned about things, and always lied to." House caught a glimpse of Davison out of the corner of his eye and saw the look of concern he held toward Jeanne. There was a time when House wouldn't feel any empathy or sympathy for either of them; somehow, he now felt both.
"Mrs. Hunter, you need to get something to eat and to sit down for a little bit," Wilson said.
"I'd rather stay near to my son and out of sight from the general public. Malcolm kept telling me to keep a low profile so no one knows we're here."
"Do you really feel the need to do what that troll tells you to do?" asked House. Jeanne Hunter looked down at the floor.
"It would be one less thing to argue about."
"We have some food we ordered before the smoke condition occurred and in fact it was sent up right before the problem happened. It's nothing fancy and we'd have to warm it in the microwave, but…" Wilson offered.
"That would be fine," she said gratefully.
"Keep the food away from the conference room. Hopefully Moe, Larry and Curly remembered to wipe the table down before laying everything out," commented House. "Use my office. Move some of the chairs in there and use them as tables."
"I'll make sure they're all cleaned up," Wilson said. House shrugged.
"It's their butts, not mine." House walked around the counter to search for Tyler's chart. "I'm going to write the orders for the Gabapentin and then wait for the change of shift to come in. I want to be here when they give the notes to the next crew." He sat down in the chair he had been in earlier. "Before you even step foot into the office down there, put the gloves on," House said taking note of the fact that their hands were bare. "We don't want any evidence that you two were down there. It doesn't matter for me up here," he said as he took off the gloves he had put on earlier. "I want my fingerprints to be all over this." With the tips of his fingers, House began to touch everything within his reach. Wilson just rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"I'll see you in your office. Oh and House," Wilson said. "Don't make the nurses hate you any more than they already do."
"Those two don't hate me," House said indicating Terri and Kris who were in Tyler's room. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Wilson nodded in agreement and led Jeffery Davidson and Jeanne Hunter to the elevators.
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