Chapter 30 Section 29
The first letter was dated almost seven years ago.
Parnassus Medical Group
Embarcadero Center
San Francisco, CA
Dear Dr. Kenson:
Based on the Disciplinary Committee meeting held last week, this letter will certify that the decision of the meeting was mutually endorsed by you, the Parnassus Physician Corps, and the Parnassus Medical Group (the "Group").You have admitted that since your employment with the Group, at various times and locations, you have taken undisclosed quantities of Morphine and Vicodin for your personal use.Furthermore, you admit that you are an alcoholic.Your medical performance has repeatedly dropped below the standard of sound medical care due to the mental state of depression caused by alcohol consumption.
The group recognizes that you have considerable skills as a doctor and have played the role of a medical communicator, and that you have previously volunteered to make several medical inventions here, and therefore consider you a valuable member of the group member.Based on this consideration, after full discussion and overriding the objection of the medical director, the disciplinary committee of the group decided to only issue this formal letter of reprimand instead of terminating your employment relationship, and according to the following conditions, Preserve the possibility of criminal charges against you:
1.You shall immediately and permanently cease all consumption of alcoholic beverages and all use of narcotics, except for legitimate medical reasons, other than those occasionally prescribed to you by another physician;
2.You will voluntarily submit your urine samples from time to time in order to determine the drug and alcohol levels in your system;
3.You will immediately accept the advice of an addictive substance abuse treatment consultant and participate in and cooperate with all treatment programs recommended by the group;
4.For the next year, in addition to regular visits to your assigned treatment consultant, you will attend a twelve-step recovery program every day with the approval of the group to deal with your drug addiction and chemical dependence;
5.After receiving necessary therapeutic consultation services in the first year, you will participate in such a twelve-step rehabilitation program for the remainder of your working time within the group, as long as the group deems it necessary, but these rehabilitation programs cannot be less arranged once a week.
For the above problems, you have frankly admitted your negligence. If you violate the above terms you have accepted again, the group will immediately and unconditionally dismiss you, and will initiate relevant criminal and civil proceedings against you to pursue your responsibility.
Parnassus Medical Group
Embarcadero Center
San Francisco, CA
Dear Dr. Kenson:
Given that I have advised the group to take a friendly, rather than aggressive, approach to helping you deal with your own problems over the past few years, I would add that this is my advice despite objections at the top.On a personal note, I would like to ask you to consider toning down some of the overly critical statements you have made to your colleagues and the media about our internal policies regarding the Drug List.I don't mean to gag you, silence you, or interfere with your right to free expression, but I'm sure you understand that we are facing financial difficulties in many ways.I want the group to be able to service its debts so that we can continue to provide the best service we can to the broadest group of our users.We're not perfect, of course, but we're trying to perfect what we do.If you have any unique improvement suggestions or different opinions on the Group's policies, I am happy to discuss with you at any time.
Parnassus Medical Group
Spacadero Center
San Francisco, CA
Dear Dr. Kenson:
I have noticed that you plan to appear on the television program "Gulf Interview" which covers public events.Allow me to remind you that several medical board members secretly arranged the rehabilitation plan for you at the meeting you attended with the physician group.I will take any action by you to disclose this matter as grounds for firing you.As a personal reminder, I am sure you are aware that we are having urgent consultations with the City at this very moment.I find that some of your public appearances and negative remarks on some policies of the group are very ungrateful and immoral. Moreover, the group has given you leniency and mercy in some ways in the past.
Parnassus Medical Group
Embarcadero Center
San Francisco, CA
Dear Dr. Kenson:
If you are not willing to give your allergist the drug Preslustop, of course that is your personal right and your personal medical decision, but it is a valid drug and I have approved the It has been added to the drug list.It is inappropriate for you to continue to undermine the Group's profitability by doubting my decisions.I have been patient with you long enough in these matters.The next thing that happens to you will have a punitive effect.
"Where did you get these things?" Hardy asked Jeff Elliott.He hurriedly flipped through the stack of things in his hand, there were more than twenty pages.They were sitting at the bar of Kars's coffee shop at the moment.With a new Starbucks opening just around the corner, the coffee shop next to the San Francisco Chronicle building doesn't look like much, and it might be closing soon. "This first letter in particular, it's unbelievable." A gleam flashed in Elliot's eyes. "As you know, Deeds, I never give away my sources." But Hardy figured it out without much trouble. "Driscoll, Markham's secretary?" Elliott's eyebrows rose almost an inch high, and his eyes widened in astonishment.Hardy knew that he could get the truth out of Elliott's mouth with a little trickery. "Why do you say that?" "He's mentioned it a few times. He's fired, right? And he anticipated it before it even happened. So he emailed what he had in his hands. Sending the files home in case they can later have some kind of impact that he wants to have, or just for fun to scare somebody." Elliot scratched at the mustache on his chin. "Your speculation about the source of the letter in my hand, I neither deny nor admit that it is right or wrong. He is the kind of man a reporter dreams of finding. Vengeful, like gossip, eager to get others attention. He gave me about five hundred pages." "Is it all about Kenson?" "No, no," Elliott scoffed at Hardy's panicked reaction, "no, that's all I can tell you, and it's all about Parnassus." "Does Marlene Ash know these things?" "If she knew, she'd try to find them, and of course I wouldn't give them to her. But I've told him—I mean my sources—that if he wants to keep them to himself or control them, maybe he should They're burned onto discs and put in some special place that Marlene or Griski can't think of." "You already have them." "I know." Elliott grinned. "Sometimes I like my job." Hardy stirred his coffee with a small spoon. "Anyone can make a copy, you know, maybe their value is not reliable." "You're right, maybe they're unreliable. But who copied all that stuff so quickly last week?" Hardy accepted that argument.In fact, he was completely convinced that the letters were genuine and not forged.But they will never be accepted as evidence in court, because without original documents and autographs, they have no legal effect.They're just for the press, and if Jeff's sources are reliable enough, he can decide to follow them. "So what are you going to do with them?" This is the crux of the matter, and they all know it.It was out of kindness that Jeff called Hardy, who was Kenson's lawyer, and asked him to come over.Considering that after Markham's death, almost everything related to Parnassus will attract high attention from the outside world, Elliott told him that the problem of Kensen's drug abuse was a real big problem in itself. news. "On the other hand," he said, "the focus seems to have shifted to the Rowling case. If there was a serial killer in Portola, Kenson would be in a corner every time. I really hate to put this Put it in the paper, Deeds. I like that doctor, he's nice, and it's going to ruin his life. But if it turns out the news matters, I'll have no choice but to do it that way." "What circumstances matter, Jeff?" "What if the narcotics came up while he was dealing with Markham in that intensive care unit?" Hardy had to admit that under the circumstances Elliott could have published the letters. "Has anyone else mentioned this?" "No. I have something to tell you though. If my 'source' does look at most of the material and thinks about it, I think it's going to come out sooner or later." Hardy shook his head, marveling at the unabashed capacity for meanness in some people.Eric Kenson was only one of two or three hundred doctors in Parnassus, but unfortunately, he had antagonized Driscoll and had a feud.Perhaps more importantly, he committed one of the seven deadly sins of disrespect to a boss who happened to be someone Driscoll relied on. But a new idea popped up in Hardy's mind.Driscoll has better reasons than that to hit Kenson or anyone else, but not for what actually happened, or because they snubbed him.He may just want people to stop staring at him and divert people's attention. "What are you thinking?" Elliott kept watching him. Hardy concealed the reason for his distraction. "I was wondering if you were going to tell me the remaining four hundred and ninety-five pages, really, nothing else." "I haven't had time to read it yet. I can only read it so quickly. I think I owe you the sudden appearance of these letters for letting you know so soon." "As you think, if you do me another favor now, I'll be in your debt, right?" Elliott thought about it, then nodded. "Perhaps. How can I help you?" "If you hear any more rumors about Kenson's rehab last Tuesday from your anonymous source, don't publish that report until you have corroborated it from other sources." "I don't think these letters are rumours, Deeds." "I didn't say they were rumours, but I don't think they were. Maybe we could make a deal." At around 3:30, Hardy finally returned to his office and saw more investigation materials on the Markham case sent over from the judicial building.He was both satisfied and somewhat disappointed.Grisky has moved into a more cooperative state, and that's good.He is willing to do the monotonous and tedious work of reading the material, you know, this pile of things can't be read without spending six hours.He opened the case, took out the contents, and placed them in the middle of the desk.He glanced at the phone and saw two messages. "Diz, I'm Eric Kenson, please check the message. If you need me, I'm home." Listening to Kenson's voice, Hardy remembered how disappointed he was with his client.He may have worked out his drug and alcohol problems long ago, but how could he be so self-righteous as to think his lawyer didn't need to know about them? The next message is from Grisky.Of course, this is Abramovich, he has always been like this, there is no opening statement of any kind. "If you're on the phone, pick up the receiver." There was about three seconds of silence. "Okay, call me back." This guy has a personality, Hardy thought. He picked up the phone, but not to Abu, but to his client.When he had finished talking about the situation, Kenson was silent for several seconds without saying a word. "Eric, are you there?" "I'm here. What should I do?" "You should have told me. What happened to that?" "Why?" he asks, "that stuff has long since ceased to concern me. It's just the result of all the stress of starting a career, starting a family, and it was a huge mistake. I've stopped—" He stopped suddenly and just said, "I'm not who I used to be." Hardy heard the words and thought that on the surface they might be true.But their authenticity was not his concern. "Are you saying you're not an alcoholic?" He was using the present tense, which was one of those conditions set forth in that treatment plan that existed as a permanently binding condition. "Look, it's a fait accompli now, Eric. Jeff Elliott has got the message, and he's in the business of spreading information." From Kenson's tone of voice, he was a little flustered. "He doesn't plan to print this in the newspaper, does he? How did he find it? Anything related to this matter has always been classified." Before Hardy could figure out how to answer this question, Kenson blurted out: "Damn it, Driscoll." "He was very upset and wanted to take his anger out on people all over the world. The point is that this hospital is in a difficult situation where it is surrounded by all sides. If this is brought out now, it is said that they have carried out an operation to cover up their doctor's problems. A secret deal... there is no doubt that this is a sensation in itself, Eric." "Driscoll wants to tear that place apart, doesn't he?" he sighed, "and that scumbag is going to inherit the dominion of that place." "Hopefully not. Anyway, I've made a deal with Jeff to keep you out of the spotlight for a few days, maybe forever. But I've told him he can't use the What I gave him - which means you're still on a crater that could erupt at any moment - he can't use until I tell him. It's up to you." "Okay, no matter what you want to know, I won't refuse." "Okay." Hardy realized that he had been gripping the phone tightly the whole time.He loosened his clenched hands, trying to calm down his tone. "You remember the night Markham died, you went to his house." "Of course. I never said I wasn't there." "I want you to think about it, what have you been doing since you left there? By the way, what time was it?" "Around ten o'clock, I think so. The agent, Bracco, saw me drive off. He may have recorded it." "Maybe he did," Hardy admitted reluctantly, "but he didn't linger there, and maybe you went back. It's conceivable." "Oh, I didn't go back. Why would I do that?" He hesitated for a moment. "Does this have anything to do with me?" "It has to do with Carla's murder. I wonder what happened to you when you left there?" "As I've been saying all along, I drove home and went to bed." "I know you've said those things, but that doesn't work for me. I want you to try to recall if you ever met someone in your apartment building or talked to someone on the street, Or any phone or computer. Anything that proves you weren't in Markham between ten and eleven, preferably ten to twelve." There was a brief break in the conversation. "I called the clinic on my mobile to see if there was a message for me." This is a good situation, Hardy thought, and the clinic would have a record of the call.They were even able to pinpoint the blocks from where the signal originated when the call was made. "Very well. What time is it?" "Just after I left. I don't think I've walked as far as two blocks." This is not an appropriate answer.Kenson probably made that call, walked around the block, and still had enough time to go back to the Markham house. "Think about something else," Hardy begged. "Why? Does it matter?" Hardy couldn't help but want to yell at him: There are so many whys, just answer this question—can he provide himself with an alibi?But he suppressed his anger, and replied: "It has to do with my conversation with the witness who heard the gunshot, Eric. They were killed at about ten forty-five." "This is consistent with the time of death inferred by the forensic doctor." "Yes, at ten forty-five, she died, but the lights in the house were on. At two o'clock in the morning, all the lights went out. I guess the man was still at her house after killing her It took a while, and then I turned off the lights and slipped away quietly." "But in that case, why did the man stay there?" "I don't know exactly what happened. Maybe he spent all that time looking for something. Maybe he was covering up the scene and creating a false appearance. Maybe he thought that leaving the scene immediately after the gunshots would be seen by people nearby I'm as doubtful as you are about this, but now we've got a murder and a lull, which means you're innocent, if you can think of anything—" "No!" Kenson blurted out, a little emotionally, "just no, what? God, I didn't kill anybody, Deeds. I'm a doctor. For God's sake, I save killed those lives. I just didn't do it. Can we not talk about that?" Hardy's anger exploded. "Of course we can leave this out, Eric. But no one else on the planet is going to. Then you go and enjoy your own good time, and if you recall at all that night you did What, why didn't you call me? If it wasn't such a big deal for you." Hardy hung up the phone with a snap.
"Where did you get these things?" Hardy asked Jeff Elliott.He hurriedly flipped through the stack of things in his hand, there were more than twenty pages.They were sitting at the bar of Kars's coffee shop at the moment.With a new Starbucks opening just around the corner, the coffee shop next to the San Francisco Chronicle building doesn't look like much, and it might be closing soon. "This first letter in particular, it's unbelievable." A gleam flashed in Elliot's eyes. "As you know, Deeds, I never give away my sources." But Hardy figured it out without much trouble. "Driscoll, Markham's secretary?" Elliott's eyebrows rose almost an inch high, and his eyes widened in astonishment.Hardy knew that he could get the truth out of Elliott's mouth with a little trickery. "Why do you say that?" "He's mentioned it a few times. He's fired, right? And he anticipated it before it even happened. So he emailed what he had in his hands. Sending the files home in case they can later have some kind of impact that he wants to have, or just for fun to scare somebody." Elliot scratched at the mustache on his chin. "Your speculation about the source of the letter in my hand, I neither deny nor admit that it is right or wrong. He is the kind of man a reporter dreams of finding. Vengeful, like gossip, eager to get others attention. He gave me about five hundred pages." "Is it all about Kenson?" "No, no," Elliott scoffed at Hardy's panicked reaction, "no, that's all I can tell you, and it's all about Parnassus." "Does Marlene Ash know these things?" "If she knew, she'd try to find them, and of course I wouldn't give them to her. But I've told him—I mean my sources—that if he wants to keep them to himself or control them, maybe he should They're burned onto discs and put in some special place that Marlene or Griski can't think of." "You already have them." "I know." Elliott grinned. "Sometimes I like my job." Hardy stirred his coffee with a small spoon. "Anyone can make a copy, you know, maybe their value is not reliable." "You're right, maybe they're unreliable. But who copied all that stuff so quickly last week?" Hardy accepted that argument.In fact, he was completely convinced that the letters were genuine and not forged.But they will never be accepted as evidence in court, because without original documents and autographs, they have no legal effect.They're just for the press, and if Jeff's sources are reliable enough, he can decide to follow them. "So what are you going to do with them?" This is the crux of the matter, and they all know it.It was out of kindness that Jeff called Hardy, who was Kenson's lawyer, and asked him to come over.Considering that after Markham's death, almost everything related to Parnassus will attract high attention from the outside world, Elliott told him that the problem of Kensen's drug abuse was a real big problem in itself. news. "On the other hand," he said, "the focus seems to have shifted to the Rowling case. If there was a serial killer in Portola, Kenson would be in a corner every time. I really hate to put this Put it in the paper, Deeds. I like that doctor, he's nice, and it's going to ruin his life. But if it turns out the news matters, I'll have no choice but to do it that way." "What circumstances matter, Jeff?" "What if the narcotics came up while he was dealing with Markham in that intensive care unit?" Hardy had to admit that under the circumstances Elliott could have published the letters. "Has anyone else mentioned this?" "No. I have something to tell you though. If my 'source' does look at most of the material and thinks about it, I think it's going to come out sooner or later." Hardy shook his head, marveling at the unabashed capacity for meanness in some people.Eric Kenson was only one of two or three hundred doctors in Parnassus, but unfortunately, he had antagonized Driscoll and had a feud.Perhaps more importantly, he committed one of the seven deadly sins of disrespect to a boss who happened to be someone Driscoll relied on. But a new idea popped up in Hardy's mind.Driscoll has better reasons than that to hit Kenson or anyone else, but not for what actually happened, or because they snubbed him.He may just want people to stop staring at him and divert people's attention. "What are you thinking?" Elliott kept watching him. Hardy concealed the reason for his distraction. "I was wondering if you were going to tell me the remaining four hundred and ninety-five pages, really, nothing else." "I haven't had time to read it yet. I can only read it so quickly. I think I owe you the sudden appearance of these letters for letting you know so soon." "As you think, if you do me another favor now, I'll be in your debt, right?" Elliott thought about it, then nodded. "Perhaps. How can I help you?" "If you hear any more rumors about Kenson's rehab last Tuesday from your anonymous source, don't publish that report until you have corroborated it from other sources." "I don't think these letters are rumours, Deeds." "I didn't say they were rumours, but I don't think they were. Maybe we could make a deal." At around 3:30, Hardy finally returned to his office and saw more investigation materials on the Markham case sent over from the judicial building.He was both satisfied and somewhat disappointed.Grisky has moved into a more cooperative state, and that's good.He is willing to do the monotonous and tedious work of reading the material, you know, this pile of things can't be read without spending six hours.He opened the case, took out the contents, and placed them in the middle of the desk.He glanced at the phone and saw two messages. "Diz, I'm Eric Kenson, please check the message. If you need me, I'm home." Listening to Kenson's voice, Hardy remembered how disappointed he was with his client.He may have worked out his drug and alcohol problems long ago, but how could he be so self-righteous as to think his lawyer didn't need to know about them? The next message is from Grisky.Of course, this is Abramovich, he has always been like this, there is no opening statement of any kind. "If you're on the phone, pick up the receiver." There was about three seconds of silence. "Okay, call me back." This guy has a personality, Hardy thought. He picked up the phone, but not to Abu, but to his client.When he had finished talking about the situation, Kenson was silent for several seconds without saying a word. "Eric, are you there?" "I'm here. What should I do?" "You should have told me. What happened to that?" "Why?" he asks, "that stuff has long since ceased to concern me. It's just the result of all the stress of starting a career, starting a family, and it was a huge mistake. I've stopped—" He stopped suddenly and just said, "I'm not who I used to be." Hardy heard the words and thought that on the surface they might be true.But their authenticity was not his concern. "Are you saying you're not an alcoholic?" He was using the present tense, which was one of those conditions set forth in that treatment plan that existed as a permanently binding condition. "Look, it's a fait accompli now, Eric. Jeff Elliott has got the message, and he's in the business of spreading information." From Kenson's tone of voice, he was a little flustered. "He doesn't plan to print this in the newspaper, does he? How did he find it? Anything related to this matter has always been classified." Before Hardy could figure out how to answer this question, Kenson blurted out: "Damn it, Driscoll." "He was very upset and wanted to take his anger out on people all over the world. The point is that this hospital is in a difficult situation where it is surrounded by all sides. If this is brought out now, it is said that they have carried out an operation to cover up their doctor's problems. A secret deal... there is no doubt that this is a sensation in itself, Eric." "Driscoll wants to tear that place apart, doesn't he?" he sighed, "and that scumbag is going to inherit the dominion of that place." "Hopefully not. Anyway, I've made a deal with Jeff to keep you out of the spotlight for a few days, maybe forever. But I've told him he can't use the What I gave him - which means you're still on a crater that could erupt at any moment - he can't use until I tell him. It's up to you." "Okay, no matter what you want to know, I won't refuse." "Okay." Hardy realized that he had been gripping the phone tightly the whole time.He loosened his clenched hands, trying to calm down his tone. "You remember the night Markham died, you went to his house." "Of course. I never said I wasn't there." "I want you to think about it, what have you been doing since you left there? By the way, what time was it?" "Around ten o'clock, I think so. The agent, Bracco, saw me drive off. He may have recorded it." "Maybe he did," Hardy admitted reluctantly, "but he didn't linger there, and maybe you went back. It's conceivable." "Oh, I didn't go back. Why would I do that?" He hesitated for a moment. "Does this have anything to do with me?" "It has to do with Carla's murder. I wonder what happened to you when you left there?" "As I've been saying all along, I drove home and went to bed." "I know you've said those things, but that doesn't work for me. I want you to try to recall if you ever met someone in your apartment building or talked to someone on the street, Or any phone or computer. Anything that proves you weren't in Markham between ten and eleven, preferably ten to twelve." There was a brief break in the conversation. "I called the clinic on my mobile to see if there was a message for me." This is a good situation, Hardy thought, and the clinic would have a record of the call.They were even able to pinpoint the blocks from where the signal originated when the call was made. "Very well. What time is it?" "Just after I left. I don't think I've walked as far as two blocks." This is not an appropriate answer.Kenson probably made that call, walked around the block, and still had enough time to go back to the Markham house. "Think about something else," Hardy begged. "Why? Does it matter?" Hardy couldn't help but want to yell at him: There are so many whys, just answer this question—can he provide himself with an alibi?But he suppressed his anger, and replied: "It has to do with my conversation with the witness who heard the gunshot, Eric. They were killed at about ten forty-five." "This is consistent with the time of death inferred by the forensic doctor." "Yes, at ten forty-five, she died, but the lights in the house were on. At two o'clock in the morning, all the lights went out. I guess the man was still at her house after killing her It took a while, and then I turned off the lights and slipped away quietly." "But in that case, why did the man stay there?" "I don't know exactly what happened. Maybe he spent all that time looking for something. Maybe he was covering up the scene and creating a false appearance. Maybe he thought that leaving the scene immediately after the gunshots would be seen by people nearby I'm as doubtful as you are about this, but now we've got a murder and a lull, which means you're innocent, if you can think of anything—" "No!" Kenson blurted out, a little emotionally, "just no, what? God, I didn't kill anybody, Deeds. I'm a doctor. For God's sake, I save killed those lives. I just didn't do it. Can we not talk about that?" Hardy's anger exploded. "Of course we can leave this out, Eric. But no one else on the planet is going to. Then you go and enjoy your own good time, and if you recall at all that night you did What, why didn't you call me? If it wasn't such a big deal for you." Hardy hung up the phone with a snap.