FATAL CURE

Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the hospital, the king of medical malfeasance (Terminal, 1993, etc., etc.) shows why managed care makes life equally dangerous for idealistic doctors and their patients. Eager to flee the urban blight of Boston, budding pathologist Angela Wilson and her internist husband David are ripe for job offers from Bartlet Community Hospital, nestled in the bucolic hills of Vermont. They won't have to lock the doors on their sumptuous new house; their precocious daughter Nikki, who suffers from cystic fibrosis, will be able to have a dog; and together they'll be making over $125,000 a year (!). But there's trouble in paradise: Angela's paternal boss is a crude lecher; David is constantly under pressure from Charles Kelley, the scalawag regional manager of the monopolistic local HMO, to cut costs to the bone; the corpse of their dream house's former owner, a cranky retired hospital administrator who shot off his mouth too much, is walled up in their basement; Angela is attacked by a rapist who's obviously employed by the hospital; and, scariest of all, an awful lot of people with either terminal illnesses or life- insurance policies in favor of Bartlet are checking into the hospital but failing to check out. The HMO refuses to underwrite the costs of autopsies (are they covering up something, or just being obsessively stingy?); the apathetic, incompetent local lawmen are no more help; the old-boy administrators laugh at Angela's claims of sexual harassment and show her the door; and David, who's obviously never read a Robin Cook novel, surveys their tribulations with the sage comment: ``We might have lost our jobs, but as long as Nikki is okay we'll manage.'' Written with Cook's usual complete lack of interest in language and character—two administrators arise from frenzied rutting to a detailed discussion of cost-containment—but so canny in joining his trademark medical paranoia to his audience's likely alarm about draconian cutbacks under managed care that you can expect sales to go through the roof. Watch your back, Hillary Clinton. (Literary Guild Dual Selection for March)