In 1965, Miami, Florida, has more cases of infectious syphilis than any city in America-a fact the Chamber of Commerce and the Miami Health Department conspire to cover up. Into this sticky wicket stumbles Allen Kravass, who gives up a cushy job in his father's bank to pursue a career in syphilis eradication with the federal government. Kravass aspires to be a VD man-a sleuth for syphilis. But he is opposed by his boss, Howard Stepman, who would like to fire him. While desperately trying to keep his job, Kravass meets Emily Norden, a healthy nurse in the VD Clinic. Norden accidentally spills Kravass's blood while instructing him in the technique of drawing blood from patients. This leads to an office romance which may not bode well for his new career. Kravass's quest is also threatened by the conflicting ambitions of others in Miami's quirky world of syphilis investigation. His fellow investigators wish him well, but are primarily interested in advancing their own careers. Not everybody succeeds in becoming a VD man. Sometimes, it comes down to the luck of the draw.
VD Man
By Larry BlumeniUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2010 Larry Blumen
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4502-1941-9 Chapter One
1
In 1965, the only harbinger of spring in Miami, Florida, is a headline that blooms one morning in the Herald: MIAMI SYPHILIS HIGHEST IN NATION.
The Chamber of Commerce calls the mayor. The mayor calls the health commissioner. And the health commissioner calls Dr. Leo Belden, chief venereologist of the Fourteenth Street Clinic. Belden, sitting at his desk with an unlit cigarette in his mouth and a lighter in his hand, listens in silence for five minutes and then says, "Right," twice, and hangs up the phone.
He lights his cigarette and blows smoke in the air. Through the partly open door of his office, he sees Kelly, leaning against the wall just outside. Kelly has a hot one. The day is about to begin.
2
Outside Belden's office, the waiting room is full, not surprising for a Monday. A few walk-ins, but mostly regulars, litter the benches-insurgents in a perpetual war against modern medicine. Kelly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for the old man to come out.
Still in his office, Belden is a study in unhurriedness. He puts on his white coat and checks his Waterman for ink. He takes a long, last drag on his cigarette and stubs it out in the ashtray on his desk.
When he finally emerges, Kelly steps into his path and says, "I got a primary for you, Doc."
"Have you been peeking again?"
"I swear I haven't-the guy described it to me. It's classic!"
Belden says, "Okay, put his chart in the basket, and I'll look at him this morning."
Kelly doesn't let go. "He's infectious, Doc!"
"He isn't going anywhere."
"Doc, you don't know how much trouble it was, getting him in here."
The old man relents. "Okay, I'll look at him now."
Kelly gets the guy, and Belden takes him into the exam room. A minute later he comes out and sends the kid back to his seat. Kelly waits for the diagnosis. Scribbling in the chart, Belden says, "Early latent."
Kelly's jaw drops. "Early latent? What about the lesion?"
"It's a zipper cut."
"Zipper cut? Doc, I drew the blood myself-he's got 128 dils!"
"Happens all the time-early latent. I'm giving him 2.4 Bicillin."
"Did you do a darkfield?"
"I don't do darkfields on zipper cuts."
Kelly, muttering to nobody in particular, retrieves his patient and takes him to an interviewing room. The rest of the morning is busy but uneventful-three more early latents, no primaries, no secondaries. By lunchtime, the waiting room is empty except for a few stragglers hanging out and hustling dates for the weekend.
3
Kelly is a victim of his environment. His mother, in a fit of national pride, named him after James Joyce, the famous author, but withheld this fact from other members of the family, who know him only as "J. J." Everybody else calls him Kelly-if they know what's good for them. He grew up skinny and Irish in South Philadelphia, practicing survival of the fist. With maturity, however, he learned to make his way more subtly-figuring out the game and finding ways to rig it.
After the morning session, Kelly goes directly to an office in the back of the clinic, where he is stopped by a closed door with a taped-up sign.
We're doing arithmetic DO NOT DISTURB
Kelly goes straight through the door. Inside is a good-sized room with a banner on the far wall that says, "All Through in '72." In the center of the room, two desks, each piled high with paper forms, have been pushed together, back to back. At one of the desks, the federal manager of the Miami VD Program, Howard Stepman, is looking down on a sheet of chicken-scratch tabulations. At the other desk, his deputy, Parson Ramey, is looking at Kelly, his fingers frozen in midcount.
Stepman looks up and asks, "Is the building on fire?"
"Worse!" says Kelly, under full steam. "Belden's gone cuckoo!"
Stepman, in the same tone of voice, says, "Would you like me to include that observation in this monthly report I'm working on?"
Before Kelly can respond, Ramey says, "What's Belden doing?"
Kelly says, "I brought in a beautiful primary lesion this morning, and Belden called it early latent!"
Ramey says, "How do you know it's a primary?"
Kelly says, "I peeked. It's beautiful. And his titer is through the roof!"
Ramey says, "Did Belden do a darkfield?"
"He said it was a zipper cut!"
Ramey starts to say something else, but the words are slow in coming.
Stepman cuts him off: "Wait a minute-where is this morning's paper?"
Ramey goes to a drawer in his desk and retrieves the paper. He says, "I was going to show it to you later."
Stepman grabs the paper and finds the front page.
He says, "I thought so!"
Kelly says, "What?"
Stepman is reading down the page. His face is getting red. He says, "That Kowalski woman is writing articles again! Just in time for the beach crowd to arrive! She does this every year!"
Kelly says, "I don't get it."
Ramey opens his mouth to explain, but nothing comes out.
Stepman keeps reading, but then stops abruptly and says, "Where did she get these numbers? These numbers haven't been released yet!"
Kelly says, "What numbers?"
Ramey looks on, his mouth still open.
Stepman stands up to his full height in shoes and places his hands flat on the desk. "There's a leak in this office!"
Kelly says, "Don't look at me!"
Stepman moves toward the door. He says, "I'll get to the bottom of this later. But first I'm going to have a little chat with Belden."
Kelly says, "What do you want me to do?"
Stepman says, "Start adding up those weeklies."
Kelly looks at Ramey. Ramey resumes his count on the third finger of his right hand.
4
Belden is sitting in his office with his after-lunch cigarette. He gave up lunch years ago, but not the cigarette. Across his desk, he looks at Stepman, who is requesting an audience with him.
Belden says, "I was expecting you."
In their dealings with each other, they observe a fine line. Stepman goes just far enough to show the old man that he knows what's going on but he stops short of alleging medical malpractice. Belden, for his part, refrains from telling the younger man to take a flying leap.
Stepman leans forward in his chair and says, "How you feeling, Doc? Your ulcer been acting up again?"
Belden says, "I don't have an ulcer."
Stepman says, "Well, you know what I mean-maybe a little irregularity that keeps you from feeling tip-top?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Kelly was telling me this morning that you looked a little tired."
"I'm feeling fine."
"Yes, well. Excellent. I'm glad to hear that."
"So, what can I do for you?"
"Did you see the paper this morning?"
"No."
"You didn't?"
"Somebody read it to me over the phone."
"Well, then, you know about the woman reporter, making us look bad again."
"I'm told that the information came from your office."
"Yes. Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I've learned that there has been a lapse of security in the office,...
