Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Hello, Robert Murphy

     It's my first official day of "retirement" but I went to the clinic anyway, to pack up documents and watch the process of taking inventory of equipment and supplies headed for Guatemala.  It's not a simple matter:  immigration officials need a "mastiff" from which, presumably, they'll conduct their inspection of the goods being exported from this country.   Several people are helping with this task: loading ABC liquor boxes with cases of lidocaine, syringes, ankle splints, Band-aids--so much stuff! 
     If the FBI agents could hurry up with their "investigation" and return the $100,000 worth of supplies they stole--as though the vials of Reclast and Synvisc, and the Mirena and Paraguard IUD's might be as contraband as the tons of cocaine being shipped into this country on a regular basis--I could send those goods to Guatemala, too.  The agents have less than a week.  Can they work this fast?
     The lead agent was part of a conversation I had, today.   Here's how it went.
     One of my ex-employees stopped by to pick up medical records for herself and her children.  I was happy to chat with her, being much less busy in my retirement.  I updated her on the government case. 
     "No word from the FBI, yet," I said.  "If they had something to investigate, we would have heard from them long ago, I imagine."
     "Yeah," she said.   "They came to my house."
     "Really?"  I asked.  "When?"
     "Some time ago."
     "What happened?"
     "They asked me some questions."
     "Like what?"
     "My husband saw this guy coming up to the house," she said.  "He pointed out the window, but I didn't believe him.  When I opened the door, there he was."
     "Was it Robert Murphy?"
     "I don't know."
     "Didn't he give you his card?"
     "Maybe, I can't recall."
     "Was he a tall guy, white, dark hair, kind of handsome?"
     "Yeah!  That's him."
     "What did he ask you?"
     "Let me think..."
     "Maybe it was the same thing he asked another employee:  'Did Dr. Colasante ask you to commit fraud?"
     "No, not that." she laughed. "He asked a lot of personal questions."
     "About me?"
     "Yeah.  Like, he wanted to know if you ever went out socially with people from work."
     "What kind of question is that?"
     "I told him, 'No,' because you never socialized with staff.  You were too busy working."
     "Maybe he thought I was collaborating with people, getting them to hide the wrongdoing he's so sure I committed."
     "And he wanted to know what you spent your money on, and whether you paid for your house."
     "He also wanted to know why you went to New York."
     "You mean, when I flew up for Jungian analytic training?"
     "What did he think I was doing?  Hobnobbing with Mafia types, as part of the 'money laundering, racketeering, and conspiracy' they think I was engaged in?"
     "Probably," she laughed.
     "Dr. C, they don't understand you."
     "What do you mean?  I asked.
     "I told him, if you work hard and do well, you should be able to have nice things.  That's America."
     "Did he give you any other clues?"
     "He asked me if I knew you had a beach house."
     "Of course, you know.  We had office parties there every summer."
     "I told him that," she said.
     Does Robert Murphy want a beach house, too?
    "Dr. C., they don't have anything on you," my ex-employee said as she picked up her chart to leave.  "They don't know a thing they're doing."   


  1. Don't forget to let your patients know where they can get their records should they be needed. Lots of folks didn't know you were leaving till too late.

    1. There's been a notice in the newspaper every day for the past month, an article on the front page of the newspaper, a radio interview, and a TV-20 spot. My staff is calling patients, but many have answering machines or their numbers have changed. There is only so much a doctor can do.