| Title Pages - Wednesday, May 3, 2006
The bodies pile up
Stanford medical student writes an engaging thriller
"Isolation Ward" by Joshua Spanogle; Delacorte Press; 400 pp.; $22
by Lora Roberts
Joshua Spanogle is in an enviable position. His first novel, "Isolation Ward," has just been published. But if his writing career doesn't work out, he can fall back on his M.D. degree. As soon as he gets it.
Spanogle, 35, is a third-year Stanford University medical student who grew up in York, Penn. with his parents reading books to him every night when he was a child.
"I penned a 10-page fantasy 'book' in fifth-grade and continued to write skits in high school," he said.
He took writing courses while in college and "after deciding on medicine, I discovered an environment in which I felt comfortable and in which I wanted to set a book."
"Isolation Ward" mixes a fast-moving raging virus with the bioethics of transplantation, stirs in a cocky, insubordinate medical investigator, and shakes the action between the east and west coasts for a well-blended first novel.
Dr. Nathaniel McCormick — a 30-something investigator from the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta who has been working short-term in Baltimore — is confronted with a mysterious illness infecting mentally challenged young residents of Baltimore group homes.
The etiology of the illness is unknown, but it appears to be an extremely contagious viral hemorrhagic fever such as Ebola or Junin. McCormick's urgency in finding the virus "vector" — the person responsible for carrying the infection — is exacerbated by local health officials' reluctance to quarantine patients and close down hospitals.
McCormick is not really a sympathetic viewpoint character. He's abrupt, impulsive, and disinclined to share important info with other health officials and the police, who are called to the scene when one of the group-home residents is discovered dead, eviscerated, and hastily buried.
Due to his inability to make nice with the higher-ups, McCormick is booted out of Baltimore by his superior officer (the CDC is run on a quasi-military framework) and sent to San Francisco to check out a possible lead on the murder victim's past and identity, which are shrouded in questions.
But the Bay Area is the last place McCormick wants to be. A former M.D./Ph.D. student at Stanford, he was booted out of school for the unforgivable sin of cooking the data from his research project.
Through the good offices of his advisor, Dr. Harriet Tobel, the only person to stand behind him throughout the sordid episode, he was able to get his M.D. at University of Maryland after being suitably purged of his hubris by a stint in Peace Corps.
He hasn't been back to the Bay Area since the debacle, seeing as it littered with his mistakes, including an ex-girlfriend from his Stanford days and another from Atlanta who now lives in Santa Clara.
McCormick has to confront the Atlanta ex, Brooke Michaels, almost immediately, as she works for the county Health Department and has been alerted to his arrival by his long-suffering boss. But it's his Stanford girl, Alaine Chen, who really occupies his thoughts.
Visiting his one-time advisor, McCormick discovers that Chen is now working alongside Dr. Tobel in her lab, doing very important but hush-hush work funded by a biotechnology company. Though McCormick is still attracted to Chen, she makes it clear that she is happy with her current fiancé, Ian Carrigan, the venture capitalist behind the biotech company that funds her research.
Then people in the Bay Area begin dying in ways that are meant to imply suicide, but McCormick doesn't buy that, especially when one of those who dies is very important to him.
McCormick's wry, smart-ass persona can be appealing, and Spanogle gives him some funny situations amid the growing carnage. At one point, McCormick checks the rat traps at one of the group homes to see if the virus could be rodent-borne.
When he is challenged by a thug in the pay of the group home's shady operator, McCormick threatens the thug with the caged rat, which obligingly inflicts a flesh wound. Later, the thug complains to the police:
"'I want to press charges for assault,' he informed Officer Blakely.
'Dr. McCormick attacked me with a rat.'
'You mean he came at you with the lawyer who just left?'
. . . We all had a good laugh over that. One of the perks of being a physician is that you're not a lawyer. I prayed the jokes would never die."
McCormick's boss, who is portrayed as a self-serving bureaucrat, nevertheless gains the reader's sympathy for having to supervise such a loose cannon.
' "You're not ticking everyone off out there are, you?"
"No, Tim."
"Are you ticking anybody off?"
"I don't think so."
"I don't mean whether you think you're ticking them off. Would I think you're ticking them off?"'
But of course, McCormick is stirring up trouble as links between the unidentified virus and the organ-transplant research that Dr. Chen is involved in become apparent. The stakes gradually escalate, and the bodies pile up. As do the busted doors—during the course of the book, McCormick knocks at least four doors down, as well as taking bullets and engaging in emergency self-mutilation.
Spanogle falls short in making the stakes high enough for his killers to justify their actions — it's not really clear that they have enough to lose to need so many people to die. McCormick's dithering back and forth between two former girlfriends (perhaps it's telling that he doesn't have a current girlfriend) is just not that credible.
And when he discovers a crucial videotape hidden away by one of the victims, he doesn't even think about securing a copy of the tape in a safe place, which would have been proof of the intelligence which we're supposed to believe is one of his defining characteristics, but which is not actually on display that often.
He protests against the involvement of the FBI in his puzzle, but he's certainly no great shakes as an investigator himself.
He admits this to himself at the end: "I lost . . . the illusion that I was the best guy for the job, that I was the most honorable, that I was the most competent."
Despite a few problems with getting his plot points in order, Spanogle is competent, and fans of medical thrillers will be delighted to add a new name to the list of must-have authors.
Lora Roberts is a Palo Alto mystery writer whose latest novel, "The Affair of the Incognito Tenant," involves Sherlock Holmes. |