“Medical records?” Larry said blankly.
The Boss grunted in deprecation. [pg 053] “No, I suppose you haven't. I wish you would snap into it, Woolford. I don't know what has happened to you of late. I used to think that you were a good field man.” He flicked off abruptly.
Larry dialed LaVerne Polk. “What in the world was the Boss just talking about, LaVerne? About medical records?”
LaVerne said, frowning, “Didn't you know? The Movement's been at it again. They've fouled up the records of the State Medical Licensing bureaus, at the same time sabotaging the remaining records of most, if not all, of the country's medical schools. They struck simultaneously, throughout the country.”
He looked at her, expressionlessly.
LaVerne said, “We've caught several hundred of those responsible. It's the same thing. Attack of the social-label. From now on, if a man tells you he's an Ear, Eye and Throat specialist, you'd better do some investigation before letting him amputate your tongue. You'd better use your judgment before letting any doctor you don't really know about, work on you. It's a madhouse, Larry.”
Larry Woolford, for long moments after LaVerne had broken the connection, stared unseeingly at his secretary across from him until she stirred.
He brought his eyes back to the present. “Another preliminary move, not the important thing, yet. Not the big explosion they're figuring on. Where have they taken that money, and why?”
Irene Day blinked at him. “I don't know, I'm sure, sir.”