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In this chilling novel from the bestselling "master of the medical thriller" (The New York Times), NYC medical examiners Laurie Montgomery and Jack Stapleton rush to India to help a UCLA student investigating medical tourism-and a sinister global conspiracy.
Devastated by the news that her beloved granmother has died after hip surgery in New Delhi, UCLA medical student Jennifer Hernandez flies to India, desperate for answers. Jennifer's grandmother appears to be a victim of medical tourism-uninsured first-world citizens traveling to third-world countries for more affordable surgery. With revelations of other unexplained deaths and pressure from Indian hospital officials for a hasty cremation, Jennifer reaches out to her mentor, New York City medical examiner Dr. Laurie Montgomery.
Laurie, along with her husband, Dr. Jack Stapleton, rush to Jennifer's side, only to discover a sophisticated medical facility with little margin for error. But as the death count grows, so do the questions, leading Laurie and Jennifer to unveil a multilayered conspiracy of global proportions. Praise for Foreign Body:
"Does for hypochondriacs what Ludlum does for paranoiacs... Cook is a master of pacing."-Raleigh News & Observer
"Interesting characters, plenty of medical background, a fast pace, and increasingly unbelievable events."-Library Journal
"Cook well knows that a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. After all, he's been coating very serious medical ethics debates in fast, fun, escapist thrillers for more than three decades."-The News-Press Robin Cook, M.D., is the author of more than thirty books and is credited with popularizing the medical thriller with his wildly successful first novel, Coma. He divides his time among Florida, New Hampshire, and Boston. His most recent novels include Host, Cell, and Nano. Prologue
October 15, 2007
Monday, 7:00 P.M.
DELHI, INDIA
Only those long-term residents of Delhi who were extraordinarily sensitive to the vicissitudes of the city's traffic patterns could tell that rush hour had peaked and was now on the downward slope. The cacophony of horns, sirens, and screeches seemed undiminished to the tortured, untrained ear. The crush appeared unabated. There were gaudily painted trucks; buses with as many riders clinging precariously to the outside and on the roof as were inside; autos, ranging from hulking Mercedes to diminutive Marutis; throngs of black-and-yellow taxis; auto rickshaws; various motorcycles and scooters, many carrying entire families; and swarms of black, aged bicycles. Thousands of pedestrians wove in and out of the stop-and-go traffic, while hordes of dirty children dressed in rags thrust soiled hands into open windows in search of a few coins. Cows, dogs, and packs of wild monkeys wandered through the streets. Over all hung a smothering blanket of dust, smog, and general haze.
For Basant Chandra, it was a typically frustrating evening commute in the city that he had lived in for his entire forty-seven years. With a population of more than fourteen million, traffic had to be tolerated, and Basant, like everyone else, had learned to cope. On this particular night he was even more tolerant than usual since he was relaxed and content from having stopped for a visit with his favorite call girl, Kaumudi.
In general, Basant was a lazy, angry, and violent man who felt cheated in this life. Growing up in an upper-caste Kshatriya family, he felt his parents had married him down with a Vaishya woman, despite his father's obtaining a management position at the in-laws' pharmaceutical firm as part of the union, while he was afforded a particularly well-paying sales manager position in place of his previous job selling Tata-brand trucks. The final blow to Basant's self-esteem came with his children, five girls, aged twenty-two, sixteen, twelve, nine, and six. There had been one boy, but his wife had miscarried at five months, for
Devastated by the news that her beloved granmother has died after hip surgery in New Delhi, UCLA medical student Jennifer Hernandez flies to India, desperate for answers. Jennifer's grandmother appears to be a victim of medical tourism-uninsured first-world citizens traveling to third-world countries for more affordable surgery. With revelations of other unexplained deaths and pressure from Indian hospital officials for a hasty cremation, Jennifer reaches out to her mentor, New York City medical examiner Dr. Laurie Montgomery.
Laurie, along with her husband, Dr. Jack Stapleton, rush to Jennifer's side, only to discover a sophisticated medical facility with little margin for error. But as the death count grows, so do the questions, leading Laurie and Jennifer to unveil a multilayered conspiracy of global proportions. Praise for Foreign Body:
"Does for hypochondriacs what Ludlum does for paranoiacs... Cook is a master of pacing."-Raleigh News & Observer
"Interesting characters, plenty of medical background, a fast pace, and increasingly unbelievable events."-Library Journal
"Cook well knows that a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. After all, he's been coating very serious medical ethics debates in fast, fun, escapist thrillers for more than three decades."-The News-Press Robin Cook, M.D., is the author of more than thirty books and is credited with popularizing the medical thriller with his wildly successful first novel, Coma. He divides his time among Florida, New Hampshire, and Boston. His most recent novels include Host, Cell, and Nano. Prologue
October 15, 2007
Monday, 7:00 P.M.
DELHI, INDIA
Only those long-term residents of Delhi who were extraordinarily sensitive to the vicissitudes of the city's traffic patterns could tell that rush hour had peaked and was now on the downward slope. The cacophony of horns, sirens, and screeches seemed undiminished to the tortured, untrained ear. The crush appeared unabated. There were gaudily painted trucks; buses with as many riders clinging precariously to the outside and on the roof as were inside; autos, ranging from hulking Mercedes to diminutive Marutis; throngs of black-and-yellow taxis; auto rickshaws; various motorcycles and scooters, many carrying entire families; and swarms of black, aged bicycles. Thousands of pedestrians wove in and out of the stop-and-go traffic, while hordes of dirty children dressed in rags thrust soiled hands into open windows in search of a few coins. Cows, dogs, and packs of wild monkeys wandered through the streets. Over all hung a smothering blanket of dust, smog, and general haze.
For Basant Chandra, it was a typically frustrating evening commute in the city that he had lived in for his entire forty-seven years. With a population of more than fourteen million, traffic had to be tolerated, and Basant, like everyone else, had learned to cope. On this particular night he was even more tolerant than usual since he was relaxed and content from having stopped for a visit with his favorite call girl, Kaumudi.
In general, Basant was a lazy, angry, and violent man who felt cheated in this life. Growing up in an upper-caste Kshatriya family, he felt his parents had married him down with a Vaishya woman, despite his father's obtaining a management position at the in-laws' pharmaceutical firm as part of the union, while he was afforded a particularly well-paying sales manager position in place of his previous job selling Tata-brand trucks. The final blow to Basant's self-esteem came with his children, five girls, aged twenty-two, sixteen, twelve, nine, and six. There had been one boy, but his wife had miscarried at five months, for
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- SeriesJack Stapleton and Laurie Montgomery #8