by Robin Cook
“You’d never guess, the way he’s acting,” Kinnard said.
Kim turned to Kinnard. She shook her head and rubbed her forehead nervously. “Now what have I gotten myself into?” she asked. “I’m not completely comfortable with Edward’s people staying in the castle.”
“How many are there?” Kinnard questioned.
“Five,” Kim said.
“Is the castle empty?” Kinnard asked.
“No one is living there if that’s what you mean,” Kim said. “But it surely isn’t empty. You want to see?”
“Sure,” Kinnard said.
Five minutes later Kinnard was standing in the center of the two-storied great room. A look of disbelief dominated his face.
“I understand your concern,” he said. “This place is like a museum. The furniture is incredible, and I’ve never seen so much fabric for drapes.”
“They were made in the twenties,” Kim said. “I was told it took a thousand yards.”
“Jeez, that’s over a half mile,” Kinnard said with awe.
“My brother and I inherited this from our grandfather,” Kim explained. “We haven’t the slightest idea what to do with it all. Still, I don’t know what my father or brother will say about five strangers living in here.”
“Let’s look at where they would stay,” Kinnard said.
They inspected the wings. There were four bedrooms in each, and each had its own stairway and door to the exterior.
“With separate entrances and stairs they won’t have to traverse the main part of the house,” Kinnard pointed out.
“Good point,” Kim said. They were standing in one of the servants’ bedrooms. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. The three men can stay in this wing and the two women over in the guest wing.”
Kinnard poked his head into the connecting bath. “Uh oh,” he said. “Kim, come in here!”
Kim joined him. “What’s the problem?”
Kinnard pointed to the toilet. “No water in the bowl,” he said. He leaned over the sink and turned on the faucet. Nothing came out. “Some kind of plumbing problem.”
They checked the other bathrooms in the servants’ wing. None of them had water. Crossing to the guest wing, they found that the problem, whatever it was, was confined to the servants’ wing.
“I’ll have to call the plumber,” Kim said.
“It could be something simple like the water has just been turned off,” Kinnard said.
Leaving the guest wing, they walked through the main part of the house again.
“The Peabody-Essex Institute would love this place,” Kinnard said.
“They’d love to get their hands on the contents of the attic and the wine cellar,” Kim said. “Both are filled with old papers, letters, and documents that go back three hundred years.”
“This I gotta see,” Kinnard said. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Kim said. They reversed directions and climbed the stairs to the attic.
Kim opened the door and gestured for Kinnard to enter. “Welcome to the Stewart archives,” she said.
Kinnard walked down the central aisle looking at all the files. He shook his head. He was floored. “I used to collect stamps when I was a boy,” he said. “Many a day I dreamed of finding a place like this. Who knows what you could find?”
“There’s an equal amount in the basement,” Kim said. Kinnard’s delight gave her pleasure.
“I could spend a month in here,” Kinnard said.
“I practically have,” Kim said. “I’ve been searching for references to one of my ancestors named Elizabeth Stewart who’d been caught up in the witchcraft frenzy in 1692.”
“No kidding,” Kinnard said. “I find all that stuff fascinating. Remember, my undergraduate major was American History.”
“I’d forgotten,” Kim said.
“I visited most of the Salem witchcraft sites while I’ve been out here on rotation,” Kinnard said. “My mom came for a visit and we went together.”
“Why didn’t you take the blonde from the ER?” Kim asked before she had a chance to think about what she was saying.
“I couldn’t,” Kinnard said. “She got homesick and went back to Columbus, Ohio. How are things going for you? It looks like your relationship with Dr. Armstrong is alive and well.”
“It’s had its ups and downs,” Kim said vaguely.
“How was your ancestor involved in the witchcraft episode?” Kinnard asked.
“She was accused as a witch,” Kim said. “And she was executed.”
“How come you never told me that before?” Kinnard said.
“I was involved in a cover-up,” Kim said with a laugh. “Seriously, I had been conditioned by my mother not to talk about it. But that’s changed. Now getting to the bottom of her case has become a mini-crusade with me.”
“Have you had any luck?” Kinnard said.
“Some,” Kim said. “But there is a lot of material here and it has been taking me longer than I’d anticipated.”
Kinnard put his hand on the handle of a file drawer and glanced at Kim. “May I?” he asked.
“Be my guest,” Kim said.
Like most of the drawers in the attic it was filled with an assortment of papers, envelopes, and notebooks. Kinnard rummaged through but didn’t find any stamps. Finally he picked up one of the envelopes and slipped out the letter. “No wonder there’s no stamps in here,” he said. “Stamps weren’t invented until the end of the nineteenth century. This letter is from 1698!”
Kim took the envelope. It was addressed to Ronald.
“You lucky son of a gun,” Kim said. “This is the kind of letter I’ve been breaking my back to find, and you just walk in here and pluck it out like there was nothing to it.”
“Glad to be of assistance,” Kinnard said. He handed the letter to Kim.
Kim read the letter aloud:
12th October 1698
Cambridge
Dearest Father,
I am deeply grateful for the ten shillings as I have been in dire need during these troublesome days of acclimation to colledge life. Ever so humbly I should like to relate that I have had complete success in the endeavor about which we had much discours prior to my matriculation. After lengthy and arduous inquiry I located the evidence used against my Dearly Departed Mother in the chambers of one of our esteemed tutors who had taken a fancy to its gruesome nature. Its prominent display caused me some disquietude but Tuesday last during the afternoon bever when all were retired to the buttery I chanced a visit to the aforesaid chambers and changed the name as you instructed to the fictitious Rachel Bingham. To a like purpose I entered the same in the catalogue in the library of Harvard Hall. I hope Dear Father that now you find solace that the surname Stewart has been freed from its most grievous molestation. In consideration of my studies I can with some felicity relate that my recitations have been well received. My chambermates are hale and of a most agreeable nature. Apart from the fagging about which you aptly forewarned me, I am well and content and
I remain your loving Son,
Jonathan.
“Damn it all,” Kim said when she’d finished the letter.
“What’s the matter?” Kinnard asked.
“It’s this evidence,” Kim said, pointing it out in the letter. “It refers to the evidence used to convict Elizabeth. In a document I found at the Essex County Courthouse it was described as conclusive evidence, meaning it incontrovertibly convicted her. I’ve found several other references to it but it is never described. Figuring out what it was has become the chief object of my crusade.”
“Do you have any idea what it could be?” Kinnard asked.
“I believe it has something to do with the occult,” Kim said. “Probably it was a book or a doll.”
“I’d say this letter favors its being a doll,” Kinnard said. “I don’t know what kind of book would have been considered ‘gruesome.’ The gothic novel wasn’t invented until the nineteenth century.”
�
��Maybe it was a book describing some witch’s potion that used body parts as ingredients,” Kim suggested.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Kinnard said.
“Doll-making was mentioned in Elizabeth’s diary,” Kim said. “And dolls helped convict Bridget Bishop. I suppose a doll could be ‘gruesome’ either by being mutilated or perhaps sexually explicit. I imagine with the Puritan morality many things associated with sex would have been considered gruesome.”
“It’s a misconception of sorts that the Puritans were all hung up on sex,” Kinnard said. “I remember from my history courses that they generally considered sins associated with premarital sex and lust as lesser sins than lying or the promotion of self-interest, since the latter had to do with breaking the sacred covenant.”
“That means things have certainly turned around since Elizabeth’s day,” Kim said with a cynical chuckle. “What the Puritans thought were terrible sins are accepted and often lauded activities in present-day society. All you have to do is watch a government hearing.”
“So you hope to solve the mystery of the evidence by going through all these papers?” Kinnard said, making a sweeping motion with his hand around the attic.
“Here and in the wine cellar,” Kim said. “I did take a letter from Increase Mather to Harvard since in the letter he said that the evidence had become part of the Harvard collections. But I didn’t have any luck. The librarians couldn’t find any reference to Elizabeth Stewart in the seventeenth century.”
“According to Jonathan’s letter you should have been looking for ‘Rachel Bingham,’” Kinnard said.
“I realize that now,” Kim said. “But it wouldn’t have made any difference. There was a fire in the winter of 1764 that consumed Harvard Hall and its library. Not only did all the books burn, but also what was called a ‘repository of curiosities,’ plus all the catalogues and indexes. Unfortunately no one even knows what was lost. I’m afraid Harvard can’t be any help to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Kinnard said.
“Thanks,” Kim said.
“At least you still have a chance with all these papers,” Kinnard said.
“It’s my only hope,” Kim said. She showed him how she was organizing all the material in terms of chronology and subject matter. She even took him to the area where she’d been working that morning.
“Quite a task,” Kinnard said. Then he looked at his watch. “I’m afraid I have to go. I’ve got to round on my patients this afternoon.”
Kim accompanied him down to his car. He offered to give her a ride back to the cottage, but she declined. She said she intended to put in a few more hours in the attic. She said she particularly wanted to search the drawer where he’d so easily found Jonathan’s letter.
“Maybe I shouldn’t ask this,” Kinnard said. He had the door to his car open. “But what is Edward and his team of researchers doing up here?”
“You’re right,” Kim said. “You shouldn’t ask. I can’t tell you the details because I’ve been sworn to secrecy. But what is common knowledge is that they are doing drug development. Edward built a lab in the old stables.”
“He’s no fool,” Kinnard said. “What a fabulous place for a research lab.”
Kinnard started to climb into his car when Kim stopped him. “I have a question for you,” she said. “Is it against the law for researchers to take an experimental drug that has yet to reach clinical testing?”
“It’s against FDA rules for volunteers to be given the drug,” Kinnard said. “But if the researchers take it, I don’t think the FDA has any jurisdiction. I can’t imagine that they would sanction it, and it might cause trouble when they attempt to get an Investigational New Drug application.”
“Too bad,” Kim said. “I was hoping it might be against the law.”
“I suppose I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to guess why you are asking,” Kinnard said.
“I’m not saying anything,” Kim said. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t either.”
“Who am I going to tell?” Kinnard questioned rhetorically. He hesitated a moment and then asked: “Are they all taking the drug?”
“I really don’t want to say,” Kim said.
“If they are, it would raise a significant ethical issue,” Kinnard said. “There would be the question of coercion with the more junior members.”
“I don’t think there is any coercion involved,” Kim said. “Maybe some group hysteria, but no one is forcing anyone to do anything.”
“Well, regardless, taking an uninvestigated drug is not a smart idea,” Kinnard said. “There is too much risk of unexpected side effects. That’s the reason the rules were promulgated in the first place.”
“It was nice seeing you again,” Kim said, changing the subject. “I’m glad to feel that we are still friends.”
Kinnard smiled. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Kim waved as he drove away. She waved again just before his car disappeared in the trees. She was sorry to see him go. His unexpected visit had been a welcome relief.
Returning inside the castle, Kim climbed the stairs on her way to the attic. She was still enjoying the warmth generated by Kinnard’s visit when she found herself marveling over the episode with Edward. She could distinctly remember back to when she had first started dating Edward that he had reacted jealously to the mere mention of Kinnard’s name. That made his response that afternoon even more surprising. It also made Kim wonder if the next time she saw Edward alone he would react with a belated temper tantrum.
By late in the day Kim was ready to give up the search. She stood up and stretched her achy muscles. To her chagrin she’d not found any other related material in the drawer, file cabinet, or even in the immediate vicinity where Kinnard had found Jonathan’s letter. It made Kinnard’s feat that much more impressive.
Leaving the castle behind, she started out across the field toward the cottage. The sun was low in the western sky. It was already fall and winter wouldn’t be far behind. As she walked she vaguely thought about what to make for dinner.
Kim was almost to the cottage when she heard the distant sound of excited voices. Turning around, she saw that Edward and his research team had emerged from their isolation in the lab.
Kim was immediately intrigued: she stood and watched the group approach. Even from a distance she could tell that they were acting frolicsome and exuberant like a group of schoolchildren let out for recess. She could hear laughter and yelling. The men, except for Edward, were throwing a football back and forth.
The first thought that went through Kim’s mind was that they had made some monumental discovery. The closer they got the more sure she became. She’d never seen them in such good spirits. But when they were within shouting distance, Edward proved her wrong.
“Look what you’ve done to my team!” he called out to Kim. “I just told them about your offer to let them stay in the castle and they’ve gone berserk.”
When the group got near to Kim they let out a cheer: “Hip hip, hurray!” they repeated three times and then collapsed in laughter.
Kim found herself smiling in return. Their exuberance was contagious. They were like collegians at a pep rally.
“They really are touched by your hospitality,” Edward explained. “They recognize that it is a real favor you are doing for them. Curt had even been sleeping on the floor of the lab a few nights.”
“I like your outfit,” Curt said to Kim.
Kim looked down at her leather vest and jeans. It certainly wasn’t special. “Thank you,” she said.
“We’d like to reassure you about the furnishings in the castle,” François said. “We understand that they are family heirlooms, and we will treat them with the utmost respect.”
Eleanor stepped forward and gave Kim an unexpected hug. “I’m touched by your selfless contribution to the cause,” she said. She squeezed Kim’s hand and looked her in the eye. “Thank you so much.”
Kim nodded. She did
n’t know what to say. She was embarrassed she’d been against the idea.
“By the way,” Curt said, angling himself in front of Eleanor. “I’ve been meaning to ask you if the noise from my motorcycle ever bothers you. If it does, I’ll be happy to park it outside the compound.”
“I’ve not been aware of any noise,” Kim said.
“Kim!” Edward called out as he came around to her other side. “If it’s convenient the group would like you to take them to the castle so that you can show them which rooms you want them to sleep in.”
“I guess it’s as good a time as any,” Kim said.
“Perfect,” Edward said.
Retracing her steps, Kim led the animated group in the direction of the castle. David and Gloria made it a point to catch up with her and walk alongside. They were full of questions about the castle such as when it had been built and whether Kim had ever lived in it.
When they entered the mansion there were a lot of ohs and ahs, especially in the massive great room and the formal dining room, with its heraldic flags.
Kim showed them the guest wing first, suggesting the women stay there. Eleanor and Gloria were pleased and chose connecting bedrooms on the second floor.
“We can wake each other up if we oversleep,” Eleanor said.
Kim showed everyone how each wing had a separate entrance and stair.
“This is perfect,” François said. “We won’t have to go into the main part of the house at all.”
Moving across to the servants’ wing, Kim explained about the plumbing problem but assured them that she would call a plumber in the morning. She then showed them a bathroom in the main part of the house they could use in the interim.
The men chose rooms without any disagreement although some of the rooms were obviously more desirable than others. Kim was impressed with their amicability.
“I can have the phone turned on as well,” Kim said.
“Don’t bother,” David said. “We appreciate you offering, but it’s not necessary. We’ll only be here to sleep, and we’re not sleeping that much. We can use the phone in the lab.”
