by Robin Cook
“That sounds reasonable and safe to me,” David said.
“To me as well,” Curt said.
“And me,” François said.
“Good,” Edward said. “I’m absolutely confident that if the problem is as we’ve theorized, it has to be dose related, and there has to be a point where the chances of causing the problem is an acceptable risk.”
“I’m not taking it,” Gloria restated.
“No problem,” Edward said.
“You won’t be irritated with me?” Gloria asked.
“Not in the slightest,” Edward said.
“I’ll be able to be a control,” Gloria said. “Plus I’ll be able to watch over the others at night.”
“Excellent idea,” Edward said.
“I have a suggestion,” François said. “Perhaps we should all take radioactively tagged Ultra so I can follow the buildup and chart concentrations in our brains. The ultimate dose of Ultra might be that dose which merely maintains a specific level of Ultra without continually increasing it.”
“I’d agree to that idea,” Curt said.
“One other thing,” Edward said. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind all you professionals, but this meeting must be kept secret from everyone, including your families.”
“That goes without saying,” David said. “The last thing any of us wants to do is compromise Ultra’s future. We might have a little growing pains here and there, but it’s still going to be the drug of the century.”
Kim had intended to spend some time in the castle during the morning, but when she got back to the cottage she realized it was already lunchtime. While she was eating, the phone rang. To her surprise it was Katherine Sturburg, the archivist at Harvard who had a particular interest in Increase Mather.
“I might have some potentially good news for you,” Katherine said. “I’ve just found a reference to a work by Rachel Bingham!”
“That’s marvelous,” Kim said. “I’d given up hope of help from Harvard.”
“We do the best we can,” Katherine said.
“How did you happen to find it?” Kim asked.
“That’s the best part,” Katherine said. “What I did was go back and reread the letter you let us copy from Increase Mather. Because of his reference to a law school, I accessed the Law School library data bank, and the name popped up. Why it’s not cross-referenced in our main data bank I have yet to figure out. But the good news is the work seemed to have survived the 1764 fire.”
“I thought everything was burned,” Kim said.
“Just about everything,” Katherine said. “Fortunately for us, about two hundred books out of the five-thousand-volume library survived because they were out on loan. So someone must have been reading the book you are looking for. At any rate, the reference I found indicated that it was transferred to the Law School from the main library in Harvard Hall in 1818, a year after the Law School was founded.”
“Did you find the book itself?” Kim asked excitedly.
“No, I haven’t had time,” Katherine said. “Besides, I think it would be better if you took it from here. What I recommend is that you give Helen Arnold a call. She’s an archivist at the Law School. I’ll call her first thing Monday morning so that she’ll expect a call or a visit.”
“I’ll go right after work on Monday,” Kim said eagerly. “I get off at three.”
“I’m sure that will be fine,” Katherine said. “I’ll let Helen know.”
Kim thanked Katherine before they disconnected.
Kim felt ecstatic. She’d totally given up hope that Elizabeth’s book had survived the Harvard fire. Then Kim questioned why Katherine had been so sure it was a book. Had it said as much on the reference?
Kim went back to the phone and tried to call Katherine right back. Unfortunately she wasn’t able to reach her. A secretary said that Katherine had rushed out to a luncheon meeting and wouldn’t be back to the office until Monday.
Kim hung up the phone. She was disappointed but didn’t remain so for long. The idea that on Monday afternoon she would finally learn the nature of the evidence used against Elizabeth was a source of great satisfaction. Whether it was a book or not did not matter.
Despite this good news, Kim still went to the castle to work. In fact, she attacked the jumble of papers with new enthusiasm.
Halfway through the afternoon she paused long enough to try to estimate how much longer she thought it would take for her to finish sorting the material. After counting all the remaining trunks and boxes and assuming about the same number existed in the wine cellar, she figured out it would take another week if she were to work for eight hours a day.
The reality of that fact robbed Kim of some of her enthusiasm. Now that she was about to start back to work at the hospital, it wasn’t going to be so easy to find the time. She was about to give up for the afternoon when she surprised herself by pulling off a stunt reminiscent of Kinnard’s. She opened a drawer at random and pulled out a letter addressed to Ronald!
Sitting on a trunk by a window, Kim took the letter from its envelope. It was another letter from Samuel Sewall. Looking at the date, Kim could tell that it had been sent just days before Elizabeth’s execution.
15th July 1692
Boston
Sir,
I have come from a comfortable supper with the most Reverend Cotton Mather and we did indeed discours upon the sorry plight of your wife and we are much in troubled spirit for you and your children. In a most gracious way Reverend Mather agreed to accept your distracted wife into his household to cure her as he most successfully did with the much afflicted Goodwin girl if only Elizabeth will confess and repent in publique the covenant she’d entered with the Prince of Lies. Reverend Mather is strongly convinced that Elizabeth can furnish with evidence and argument as a critical eye witness to confute the sadducism of this troubled age. Failing that Reverend Mather cannot and will not intervene in carrying out of the sentence of the court. Be advised that there is no time to waste. Reverend Mather is eager and believes that your wife can teach us all about matters of the invisible world that doth threaten our country. God bless your endeavors and I remain
Your Friend,
Samuel Sewall.
For a few minutes Kim stared out the window. The day had started cloudless and blue, but now dark clouds were blowing in from the west. From where she was sitting she could see the cottage sitting among its birch trees whose leaves had become bright yellow. The combination of the old house and the letter transported Kim back three hundred years, and she could feel the utter panic brought on by the impending reality of Elizabeth’s execution. Although the letter she’d just read had been to Ronald rather than from him, she got the impression it was a response from a letter Ronald had written in desperation to save his wife’s life.
Kim’s eyes filled up with tears. It was hard for her to imagine the agony Ronald must have experienced. It made Kim feel guilty that she’d had suspicions of Ronald back when she’d first started to learn the truth about Elizabeth.
Kim finally got up. Replacing the letter in its envelope, she carried it downstairs to the wine cellar and deposited it with the other material in the Bible box. Then she left the castle and started back toward the cottage.
Kim got halfway and slowed her pace. Glancing toward the lab, she stopped walking. She looked at her watch. It was not quite four. All at once the idea occurred to her that it would be a nice gesture to make an attempt at improving the researchers’ diet. They’d seemed depressed when she’d stopped in that morning, and she imagined they must be sick of pizza. Kim reasoned she could easily repeat the steak-and-fish dinner she’d made somewhat less than a fortnight previously.
With this thought in mind, Kim changed her direction and headed for the lab. As she passed through the reception area she felt mild apprehension since she never quite knew what to expect. Entering the lab proper, Kim let the door close behind her. No one came running over to greet her.
Kim se
t off toward Edward’s area. She passed David, who greeted her pleasantly but with hardly the buoyancy he had a few days previously. Kim said hello to Gloria, who, like David, immediately turned her attention back to her work.
Kim continued on her way, but she felt progressively wary. Although David’s and Gloria’s behavior was probably the most normal Kim had experienced since they had arrived, it represented another change.
Edward was so engrossed in his work that Kim had to tap his shoulder twice to get his attention. She noticed that he was making new Ultra capsules.
“Is there a problem?” he asked. He smiled and acted reasonably happy to see her.
“I wanted to make you and the others an offer,” Kim said. “How about a repeat of the dinner that we had a few weeks ago. I’d be happy to run into town and get the food.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” Edward said. “But not tonight. We can’t take the time. We’ll just order in some pizza.”
“I promise you wouldn’t have to take much time,” Kim said.
“I said no!” Edward hissed between clenched teeth, causing Kim to take a step back. But Edward immediately regained his composure and smiled again. “Pizza will do just fine.”
“If that’s how you feel,” Kim said with a mixture of confusion and apprehension. It had been as if Edward had momentarily teetered on the edge of control for a few seconds. “Are you all right?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes!” he snapped, but then quickly smiled again. “We’re all a little preoccupied. We had a minor setback but it’s under control.”
Kim took several more steps backward. “Well, if you change your mind in the next hour or so I can still go into town,” she said. “I’ll be at the cottage. Just call.”
“We’re really much too busy,” Edward said. “You go ahead and eat, but thanks for offering. I’ll let everyone know you were thinking of them.”
As Kim departed, none of the researchers acknowledged her or even looked up from their work. When she got outside she sighed and shook her head. She was amazed at how changeable the atmosphere in the lab was and wondered how the people could live with themselves. Kim was coming to the conclusion that she had little in common with the scientific personality.
After dinner there was still plenty of light to go back to the castle, but Kim couldn’t get herself to return. Instead she vegetated in front of the TV. She’d hoped that watching several mindless sitcoms would get the experience in the lab out of her mind, but the more she thought about her interaction with Edward and the others, the more disturbed she became.
Kim tried to read, but she couldn’t concentrate. Instead she found herself wishing she’d been able to follow up that afternoon on the lead involving the Law School. Feeling progressively more nervous as the evening dragged on, Kim began to think about Kinnard. She wondered who he was with and what he was doing. She also wondered if he ever thought about her.
Kim awakened with a start despite having again taken a Xanax to slow her churning mind. It was pitch black in her bedroom, and a glance at her clock told her she’d been asleep only for a short time. Settling back into her pillow, she listened to the night sounds of the house, trying to decide what could have awakened her so abruptly.
Then she heard several dull thumps coming from the back of the house that sounded like her new rubberized trash cans hitting up against the clapboard. Kim stiffened as she thought of a black bear or a rabid raccoon trying to get at her garbage, which she knew contained chicken skin and bones.
After switching on her bedside light, Kim got out of bed. She put on her robe and slipped her feet into her slippers. She gave Sheba a reassuring pat. Kim was thankful she’d been keeping the animal inside.
Hearing the thumping yet again, Kim hurried through the short hall into Edward’s room. Switching on the light, she discovered that Edward’s bed was empty. Thinking he must still be in the lab, and concerned about his walking back in the dark, Kim went back into her bedroom and dialed the lab number. After ten rings she gave up.
Kim took out the flashlight she kept in her bedside table and started down the stairs. Her intention was to shine the light out the kitchen window where the trash cans were stored, hoping to scare away whatever animal was out there.
As Kim rounded the turn in the stairs, giving her a view of the foyer, she froze. She saw something that made her blood run cold. The front door was wide open.
At first Kim could not move. She was paralyzed with the terrorizing thought that the creature, whatever it was, had come into her house and was that moment stalking her through the darkness.
Kim listened intently, but all she could hear was the chorus of the last tree frogs of the season. A cool wet breeze wafted in through the open doorway and swirled around Kim’s bare legs. Outside, a light rain was falling.
The house was deathly silent, giving her the hope that the animal had not come in. Kim descended the steps one at a time. After each step she hesitated and strained to hear some telltale sound of an animal intruder. But the house remained quiet.
Kim reached the open door and grasped the knob. Looking back and forth from the darkened dining room to the parlor, she began to close the door. She was fearful of moving too quickly lest she provoke an attack. She had the door almost closed when she glanced outside. She gasped.
Sheba was sitting about twenty feet away from the front of the house in the middle of the flagstone walkway. She was blissfully ignoring the drizzle while calmly licking her paw and rubbing it over the top of her head.
At first Kim could not believe her eyes since she thought she’d just seen the cat on her bed. Obviously Sheba had sensed the front door was open while Kim was checking on Edward, and had come down to take advantage of the opportunity to get outside.
Kim took several deep breaths to try to rid herself of the heavy, drugged feeling that clouded her brain. Terrified about what was possibly lurking in the nearby shadows, she was reluctant to call out to the animal, who probably would have ignored her anyway.
Sensing she had little choice, Kim slipped through the door. After a quick scan of the immediate area, she dashed to the cat, snatched it from the ground, and turned, only to see the front door closing.
Screaming a silent “no,” Kim lunged for the door, but she was too late. It shut with a heavy thud followed by a sharp metallic click of the bolt engaging the striker plate.
Kim vainly tried the handle. It was locked as she’d expected. She pushed the door ineffectually with her shoulder, but it was of no use.
Hunching her shoulders against the cold rain, Kim slowly turned to face the blackness of the night. She shivered with fear and cold, marveling at her desperate circumstance. She was in her robe and pajamas, locked out of her house on a rainy night with a disgruntled cat in one hand and an ineffectual flashlight in the other, facing an unknown nocturnal creature lurking somewhere in the shrubbery.
Sheba struggled to be put down and audibly complained. Kim shushed her. Stepping away from the house, Kim scanned the front casement windows, but all were shut. She knew they were locked. Turning around, she gauged the distance to the lab, where the lights were finally off. Then she looked at the castle. The castle was farther away, but she knew the doors to the wings were unlocked. She didn’t know about the door to the lab.
Suddenly Kim heard the sound of a large creature moving in the gravel along the right side of the house. Knowing she could not stay where she was, she ran in the opposite direction, going around the left side of the house, away from the approaching bear or whatever animal had been at her new trash containers.
Desperately Kim tried the kitchen door. But it was locked, as she was sure it would be. Using her shoulder, she hit it several times, but it was no use. All she managed to do was make the cat howl.
Turning from the house, she spied the shed. Clutching the cat closer to her chest and holding the flashlight like a club, Kim ran as quickly as her backless mules would allow. When she got to the shed, she undid the hook
that held the door closed, opened it, and squeezed into the shed’s inner blackness.
Kim pulled the door shut behind her. Just to the right of the door was a tiny, dirty window that afforded a meager view of the yard behind the cottage. The only illumination came from a pool of light spilling from her bedroom window and the luminous glow of the low swirling cloud cover.
As she watched, a hulking figure rounded the house from the same direction she had come. It was a person, not an animal, but he was acting in a most peculiar fashion. Kim watched him pause to smell the wind just as an animal might do. To her dismay he turned in her direction and appeared to be staring at the shed. In the darkness she could see no features, just his dark silhouette.
Dismay turned to horror as Kim watched the figure lurch toward her with a slow, dragging gait, still sniffing the air as if following a scent. Kim held her breath and prayed the cat would be still. When the figure was a mere ten feet away, Kim shrank back into the dark recess of the shed, pushing against tools and bicycles.
She could now hear his footfalls in the gravel. They came closer, then stopped. There was an agonizing pause. Kim held her breath.
Suddenly the door was rudely yanked open. Losing control, Kim screamed. Sheba answered with her own scream and leaped from Kim’s arms. The man screamed as well.
Kim grasped the flashlight in both hands and turned it on, flashing the beam directly into the man’s face. He shielded himself from the unexpected blast of light with his hands and forearms.
Kim’s mouth clamped shut in surprised relief. She recognized it was Edward!
“Thank God,” she said, lowering the flashlight.
Scrambling from her position wedged among bikes, lawnmower, and old trash containers, Kim burst from the shed and threw her arms around Edward. The beam of her flashlight played hapazardly in the trees.
