Decker was silent, wondering why the man was so hostile. Berger was finally in the medical spotlight. Maybe he had a bad case of stage fright and was covering it with bravado.

Again, Berger checked his watch. “I’ve got rounds—”

“What positions did you hold before you hooked up with Dr. Sparks?”

“I don’t see where that’s any of your business.”

“Dr. Berger, I can look up your professional background in a snap—”

“So do it.”

“You’re not going to make this easy on me?”

“I didn’t kill the man, period. That’s all you have to know.”

Decker smoothed his mustache, trying to figure out how to work around the man’s anger. Attempt a different approach. Suddenly, something dawned on him. He said, “Do you have a past, sir?”

Berger seemed poised for another attack. Abruptly, he wilted. Silence thickened between them.

“Why don’t you just go away?” Berger whispered.

Mildly, Decker said, “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Berger looked at the ceiling, said nothing.

“I’m going to find it all out. Might be better if it came from you.”

Berger kneaded his hands, slowly began his recitation. “My father was a good man. Worked hard…was very proud of me.”

“I’m sure.”

“A good man,” Berger repeated, “but a gambler. At the age of fifty-one, he dropped dead from a heart attack and left my mother helpless and penniless. I was a senior resident at the time…away from home. Of course, when I heard the news I rushed back to my mother’s side, took over the many responsibilities that she couldn’t handle. Squared her away.”

“Big burden,” Decker said.

“It was because my father had left big debts. But we took care of them. I stayed long enough to get her on the right footing, then I left home once again to continue on with my studies…with my life. I came back just in time to take my specialty boards. Needless to say, I was a wreck. Flustered and disoriented. Still reeling from grief, overrun with worry. I hadn’t had a moment to study. I was caught cheating.”

No one spoke.

Decker said, “Obviously, you’ve overcome the mishaps.”

“After pleading and begging, yes, I was allowed to retake my exams. And I passed. But no hospital would permit me to attend because of my black eye. They didn’t come right out and say that my cheating was the reason for denying attendance privileges. But after applying to fifty-plus institutions, you see the writing on the wall. If you’re a surgeon, Lieutenant, you need hospitals.”

“What did you do?”

“I worked as a general practitioner for a while. Lebanon, Indiana. Did quite well.”

“But you were frustrated.”

“That is an understatement, sir. I was miserable. In my eyes, not only was I a failure, but a dishonest one at that.”