“Was I misled?”

He winks. “You were led, now you wonder if you were miss led? Is this yet another example of your fixation on the female gender?”

“No.”

“Will you touch the banister?”

“I think not.”

“In that case I’ll dispense with the salad and get right to the meat. Viewers, we’ve been having a fascinating discussion with Dr. Gideon Box, the most highly-respected cardiothoracic surgeon in the world. You might be interested to know Dr. Box claims to have a perfect record of saving children other surgeons have given up all hope of saving. But according to our research, his numbers are padded.”

“Padded?” I say.

“You claim to have saved sixty-three dying children.”

“I don’t claim anything. It’s a matter of public record.”

“And are those public records open to the public?”

“Yes, of course. I would have thought the word public might have given you a clue as to their accessibility.”

“As it happens, we were able to gain access to those records.”

“Then you should know what they say.”

“Oh, I do, doctor. I absolutely do. And I plan to reveal some shocking news about the children you allegedly saved. Right after these words from our sponsors.”

We sit there a moment, and someone says, “And…we’re off the air!”

“Great television!” Mitch says, enthusiastically. “Don’t you agree?”

I look across the room at Trudy.

She shrugs and says, “If I’d watched this much—and that’s a big if—I’d probably watch a little longer.”

After the break, Mitch looks into the camera and says, “We’re back with Dr. Gideon Box, world-renowned cardiothoracic surgeon, a man who claims to have a 100% record of saving hopeless-case children.”

I frown.

He continues. “Before the break, I promised a major revelation, and you know me, folks, I never disappoint. Our tireless research team has uncovered hard evidence that two of the patients Dr. Box claims to have saved are unable to be here tonight. Care to guess why, Doctor?”

“Because you’re insane?”

“Because they’re dead. They didn’t survive.”

“What do you mean?”

“Little Katie Sanderson? Dead. Johnny Bahrain? Dead. Shall I continue?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

He frowns. “I’ll just focus on these two. Do you remember them?”

I pause. Do I? The names sound familiar, but most of these kids look the same when I meet them: unconscious, near-death. As for the chart history, it’s not relevant. When I get them, it’s not a matter of what treatments they’ve had. It’s a matter of how can I save them.

He repeats the question. “Do you remember these two children?”

I almost answer “Yes,” but catch myself wondering if he might be trying to trap me, by making up names.