“Terrific,” Cal exclaimed, lightly punching the surface of the table with his fist several times for emphasis. “It’s music to my ears. It also brings up the question of when we should do it again. If CNN is, as Santana says, dying for more material, it seems to me we shouldn’t deny them.”

“I agree,” Durell said. “No question. If the fish are biting, it’s time to fish. And I have to tell you guys, Samira is ready. It hurt her feelings that Veena had been selected to be the first over her. She says she has a patient with some kind of heart history having surgery this morning who would be perfect.”

Cal gave a quick chuckle. “And I was worried we’d have trouble getting the nurses to cooperate, and here they are spontaneously volunteering.”

Turning from Durell, Cal glanced at Petra and Santana in turn. “What about you women? What are your thoughts about doing another? Last night when I found Veena had ODed, I never guessed I’d be asking whether we should do another tonight, but here I am.”

“Rosalyn was emphatic about wanting more material,” Santana said, looking across at Petra. “Since we know the news will be guaranteed to go right on the air, I’d have to vote yes.”

“What’s the chance Samira will have an overreaction like Veena?” Petra asked, staring back at Santana. “We don’t want another suicide attempt.”

“Certainly not Samira,” Durell said. He was emphatic. “She might be Veena’s age, her roommate, and her best friend, but personality-wise, they are two completely different people, which in some respects might be why they are tight, or at least used to be tight. Yesterday afternoon before Veena left to do her thing, she reamed Samira out for sharing her family secrets.”

“Do you agree, Santana?” Petra asked.

“I do,” Santana said. “Samira is very competitive, but she’s not a leader. More important, she’s more self-centered, and not so bottled up.”

“Then I’ll agree to it,” Petra said.

“What about the event being in the same hospital two days in a row?” Durell asked. “Does anybody see that as a problem?”

“That’s a good question,” Petra said.

All eyes switched to Cal. He shrugged. “I don’t think it matters. I was assured it would not be discoverable for a bunch of reasons. Second of all, the hospital authorities and their business backers are going to want to bury these deaths ASAP, excuse the pun, to avoid negative publicity as much as possible. India doesn’t have a medical examiner system, but even if by some astronomically thin chance someone suspected foul play, and for another astronomically thin chance even thought of succinylcholine, the drug would be long gone and any residuals, or whatever they call it, would be explained away as coming from the anesthesia they’d had from surgery.”

“Actually,” Santana said, “two deaths in two days is an even bigger story. I think it helps our cause.”

Nodding his head in agreement, Cal looked at both Petra and Durell. Both nodded. “Wonderful,” Cal said with a smile, placing both hands on the table. “It’s wonderful to have unanimity. Let’s make it happen.” Then, looking at Durell, he added, “Then you’ll give Samira the good news when she returns from work.”