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“I don’t understand,” I said. “Weren’t you looking for a doctor’s opinion when you went to him? I mean, you had to have known he wasn’t going to tell your dad it was time to die.”
“Of course,” Robert said, “but by the time we went to Dr. Hood, we had already been told by several other prominent surgeons that they’d never go through with that operation, not with my father’s poor health and his age. The risks were too high. My father had resigned himself to dying, and was beginning to get his affairs in order, at least until we met with Dr. Hood.”
I blinked slowly and felt it starting to come together like an itch. “He gave your father hope.”
“That’s right. He talked as though he could make the procedure happen. He didn’t sell it exactly, but he said he’d go through with it, so long as we understood the risks. My father, he heard that and thought it meant he’d get another shot at life—hell, maybe another decade of time on this Earth, another decade with his children and grandchildren. He stopped putting his affairs in order even though I told him time and time again that this was still extremely risky, and Dr. Hood couldn’t promise it would all work out.”
I saw where Piers went wrong. I could almost envision the way he seemed in that patient meeting: calm, confident, exuding pure competence. That was the way he dealt with everyone, all the time, and I could see how a scared, desperate man might take false hope from him. Piers probably said all the right things, used all the right words—but that didn’t matter. The simple fact that he was willing to do the procedure was enough to make Nil Tippett hope, and that hope was the most dangerous thing of all.
“But he never said the operation had a high chance of success, right?” I asked, trying to steer the direction a bit.
Robert wasn’t interested. He shook his head and bulled forward. “You don’t understand how complicated our family dynamic is,” he said. “When there’s as much money as my family has involved, things get difficult. My father didn’t finish his will and didn’t get all of his affairs in order, which was typical of him, always waiting until the last second on the stuff he didn’t like to do. Well, the operation was a failure, and my father died, and now my entire family is thrown into chaos, all because of Dr. Hood.”
I looked away, toward the chic young people behind the counter making coffees, smiling, laughing with each other. I almost envied them: no responsibility beyond making hot drinks, nobody’s life on the line.
“I don’t see how that can be Dr. Hood’s fault,” I said.
“My father not getting his affairs in order isn’t his fault, of course. But the false hope he gave him certainly was. Without that false hope, I believe my father would’ve made his final plans, and my family wouldn’t be in its current state.”
I leaned back, studying him, and he watched me with a cool, almost detached air. His head tilted to the side, like he was hearing something for the first time—listening to some distant sound that confused him more than pleased him.
Part of me understood what he was saying, and I could almost see how that would be a problem. I knew without a doubt that Piers hadn’t told them anything in particular that would’ve given them some false ideas about the risks involved, but his general demeanor, the way he held himself—and the mere fact that he was even willing to attempt the operation were all indicators in themselves. I didn’t know how any of that stuff would hold up in the courts or whatever, but Robert Tippett seemed to think they’d matter.
Or maybe not, and maybe this whole thing was a ploy to get me to talk.
“Honestly, I’m not sure what you want from me,” I said, ready to get up and leave. “Even if everything you just told me is true, and I’m sure you’re not lying, but I still don’t see what it has to do with me.”
“You can testify one way or the other. You’ve seen him with other patients. You know what he’s like. You know he gives off a certain self-confidence that might be confusing for someone my father’s age.”
“You’re talking about vibes. I don’t know how that has to do with anything.”
He leaned closer. “Maybe not, but there’s a lot of money at stake here. More money than I bet you’ve ever seen.”
I pushed back from the table. “I’m not taking a bribe.”
“I didn’t offer one.” But he smiled, and I knew what that smile meant. He might not had said the words, but the implication hung in the air.
I stood up. “Piers is an adequate teacher and a fine doctor,” I said. “And he’s the best surgeon I’ve ever seen. I’m sorry about your father and your family, but I’m not going to testify against Dr. Hood.”
