by Robin Cook
Jack was about to say something clever when the man stepped back and slammed the door hard enough to bring down the shower curtain and rod.
Jack immediately went for the door handle for fear of being locked in. Putting his shoulder into it, Jack rammed the door. Unexpectedly the door opened without hindrance. Jack stumbled out of the bathroom, struggling to stay on his feet. Once he had his balance, his eyes darted around the loft. The man had disappeared.
Jack headed for the kitchen and the open window. He had no other choice. But he only made it as far as the living room. The man had also run there to snatch a large revolver out of a drawer in the coffee table. As Jack appeared, the man leveled the gun at him and told him to freeze.
Jack immediately complied. He even raised his hands. With such a large gun pointing at him, Jack wanted to be as cooperative as possible.
“What the hell are you doing here?” the man snarled. His hair fell across his forehead, making him snap his head back to keep it out of his eyes.
It was that gesture more than anything else that made Jack recognize the man. It was Richard, the head tech from the Manhattan General’s lab.
“Answer me!” Richard demanded.
Jack raised his hands higher, hoping the gesture might satisfy Richard, while his mind desperately sought some reasonable explanation of why he was there. But none came to mind. Under the circumstances Jack couldn’t even think of anything clever to say.
Jack kept his eyes riveted to the gun barrel, which had moved to within three feet of his nose. He noticed the tip trembled, suggesting that Richard was not only angry but also acutely agitated. In Jack’s mind such a combination was particularly dangerous.
“If you don’t answer me I’m going to shoot you right now,” Richard hissed.
“I’m a medical examiner,” Jack blurted out. “I’m investigating.”
“Bull!” Richard snapped. “Medical examiners don’t go busting into people’s apartments.”
“I didn’t break in,” Jack explained. “The window was open.”
“Shut up,” Richard said. “It’s all the same. You’re trespassing and meddling.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “Couldn’t we just talk about this?”
“Were you the one who sent me that fake package?” Richard demanded.
“What package?” Jack asked innocently.
Richard’s eyes left Jack’s, and they swept down to Jack’s feet and then back up to his face. “You’ve even got on a fake deliveryman outfit. That took thought and effort.”
“What are you talking about?” Jack asked. “I dress like this all the time when I’m not at the morgue.”
“Bull!” Richard repeated. He pointed toward one of the couches with the gun. “Sit down!” he yelled.
“All right already,” Jack said. “You only have to ask nicely.” The initial shock was passing and his wits were returning. He sat where Richard indicated.
Richard backed up to the gun cabinet without taking his eyes off Jack. He groped for keys in his pocket and then tried to get the gun cabinet open without looking at what he was doing.
“Can I give you a hand?” Jack asked.
“Shut up!” Richard yelled. Even his hand with the key was shaking. When he got the glazed door open, he reached in and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
“Now, that’s a handy item to have around,” Jack said.
Handcuffs in hand, Richard started back toward Jack, keeping the gun pointed at his face.
“I tell you what,” Jack said. “Why don’t we call the police. I’ll confess, and they can take me away. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Shut up,” Richard ordered. He then motioned for Jack to get to his feet.
Jack complied and lifted his hands again.
“Move!” Richard said, motioning toward the main part of the lab.
Jack backed up. He was afraid to take his eyes off the gun.
Richard kept coming toward him, the handcuffs dangling from his left hand.
“Over by the column,” Richard snapped.
Jack did as he was instructed. He stood against the column. It was about fifteen inches in diameter.
“Face it,” Richard commanded.
Jack turned around.
“Reach around it with your hands and grasp them together,” Richard said.
When he did what Richard had insisted, Jack felt the handcuffs snap over each wrist. He was now locked to the column.
“Mind if I sit down?” Jack asked.
Richard didn’t bother to answer. He hurried back into the living area. Jack lowered himself to the floor. The most comfortable position was embracing the column with his legs wrapped around it as well as his arms.
Jack could hear Richard dialing a telephone. Jack considered yelling for help when Richard started his conversation, but quickly scrapped the idea as suicidal, considering how nervous Richard was acting. Besides, whomever Richard was calling probably wouldn’t care about Jack’s plight.
“Jack Stapleton is here!” Richard blurted without preamble. “I caught him in my goddamn bathroom. He knows about Frazer Labs and he’s been snooping around in here. I’m sure of it. Just like Beth Holderness at the lab.”
The hairs on the back of Jack’s neck rose up when he heard Richard mention Beth’s name.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Richard shouted. “This is an emergency. I shouldn’t have gotten myself involved in this. You’d better get over here fast. This is your problem as well as it is mine.”
Jack heard Richard slam down the telephone. The man sounded even more agitated. A few minutes later Richard reappeared without his gun.
He came over to Jack and looked down at him. Richard’s lips were quivering. “How did you find out about Frazer Labs?” he demanded. “I know you sent the phony package, so there’s no use lying.”
Jack looked up into the man’s face. Richard’s pupils were widely dilated. He looked half crazy.
Without warning, Richard slapped Jack with an open palm. The blow split Jack’s lower lip. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
“You’d better start talking,” Richard snarled.
Jack gingerly felt the damaged part of his lip with his tongue. It was numb. He tasted the saltiness of his blood.
“Maybe we should wait for your colleague,” Jack said, to say something. His intuition told him he soon would be seeing Martin Cheveau or Kelley or possibly even Zimmerman.
The slap must have hurt Richard as well as Jack because he opened and closed his hand a few times and then disappeared back into the living area. Jack heard what he thought was the refrigerator being opened, then an ice tray being dumped.
A few minutes later Richard reappeared to glare at Jack. He had a dish towel wrapped around his hand. He commenced pacing, pausing every now and again to glance at his watch.
Time dragged by. Jack would have liked to have been able to take one of his throat lozenges, but it was impossible. He also noticed that his cough was increasing and that he now felt just plain sick. He guessed he had a fever.
The distant, high-pitched sound of the elevator brought Jack’s head up from where it had slumped against the column. Jack considered the fact that the buzzer hadn’t sounded. That meant that whoever was on their way up had a key.
Richard heard the elevator motor as well. He went to the door and opened it to wait in the hall.
Jack heard the elevator arrive with a thump. The motor switched off and the elevator door clanged open.
“Where is he?” an angry voice demanded.
Jack was facing away from the door when he heard Richard and his visitor come into the loft. He heard the door close and be locked.
“He’s over there,” Richard said with equal venom. “Handcuffed to the column.”
Jack took a breath and turned his head as he heard footsteps close in on him. When he caught sight of who it was, he gasped.
33
WEDNESDAY, 7:45 P.M., MARCH
27, 1996
“You bastard!” Terese snapped. “Why couldn’t you let sleeping dogs lie. You and your stubbornness! You’re screwing everything up, just when things are finally starting to go right.”
Jack was dumbstruck. He looked up into her blue eyes, which he had only recently seen as soft. Now they looked as hard as pale sapphires. Her mouth was no longer sensuous. Her bloodless lips formed a grim line.
“Terese!” Richard yelled. “Don’t waste time trying to talk with him. We got to figure out what we’re going to do. What if someone knows he is here?”
Terese broke off from glaring at Jack to look at Richard. “Are those stupid cultures of yours in this lab?” she demanded.
“Of course they’re here,” Richard said.
“Then get rid of them,” Terese said. “Flush them down the toilet.”
“But, Terese!” Richard cried.
“Don’t ‘but, Terese’ me. Get rid of them. Now!”
“Even the influenza?” Richard questioned.
“Especially the influenza!” Terese snapped.
Morosely Richard went over to the freezer, unlocked it, and began rummaging through its contents.
“What am I going to do with you?” Terese asked, redirecting her attention to Jack. She was thinking out loud.
“For starters you could take off these handcuffs,” Jack said. “Then we could all go for a quiet dinner at Positano, and you can let your friends know we are there.”
“Shut up!” Terese exclaimed. “I’ve had it with your repartee.”
Abruptly Terese left Jack and moved over next to Richard. She watched him gathering a handful of frozen vials. “All of it, now!” she warned. “There cannot be any evidence here, you understand?”
“It was the worst decision of my life to help you,” Richard complained. When he had all the vials he disappeared into the bathroom.
“How are you involved in all this?” Jack asked Terese.
Terese didn’t answer. Instead she walked around the partition into the living room. Behind him Jack heard the toilet flush, and he hated to think what had just been sent into the city’s sewers to infect the sewer rats.
Richard reappeared and followed Terese into the living area. Jack couldn’t see them, but given the high, unadorned ceiling he could hear them as if they were right next to him.
“We’ve got to get him out of here immediately,” Terese said.
“And do what?” Richard asked moodily. “Dump him in the East River?”
“No, I think he should just disappear,” Terese said. “What about Mom and Dad’s farmhouse up in the Catskills?”
“I never thought of that,” Richard said. His voice brightened. “But, yeah, that’s a good idea.”
“How will we get him up there?” Terese asked.
“I’ll bring around my Explorer,” Richard said.
“The problem is getting him into it and then keeping him quiet,” Terese said.
“I’ve got ketamine,” Richard said.
“What’s that?” Terese asked.
“It’s an anesthetic agent,” Richard said. “It’s used a lot in veterinary medicine. There are some uses for humans, but it can cause hallucinations.”
“I don’t care if it causes hallucinations,” Terese said. “All I care about is whether it will knock him out or not. Actually, it would be best just to have him tranquilized.”
“Ketamine is all I’ve got,” Richard said. “I can get it because it’s not a scheduled drug. I use it with the animals.”
“I don’t want to hear about any of that,” Terese said. “Is it possible just to give him enough to make him dopey?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Richard said. “But I’ll try.”
“How do you give it?” Terese asked.
“Injection,” Richard said. “But it’s short-acting, so we might have to do it several times.”
“Let’s give it a try,” Terese said.
Jack found himself perspiring heavily when Terese and Richard reappeared from the living room. Jack didn’t know if it was from a fever or from the worry engendered by the conversation he’d just overheard. He did not like the idea of being an unwilling experimental subject with a potent anesthetic agent.
Richard went to a cabinet and got out a handful of syringes. From another cabinet he got the drug, which came in a glass vial with a rubber top. He then stopped to figure out a dose.
“What do you think he weighs?” Richard asked Terese as if Jack were an uncomprehending animal.
“I’d guess about one-eighty, give or take five pounds,” Terese said.
Richard did some simple calculations, then filled one of the syringes. As he came at Jack, Jack had to fight off a panic attack. He wanted to scream, but he didn’t. Richard injected the ketamine into his right upper arm. Jack winced. It burned like crazy.
“Let’s see what that does,” Richard said, stepping away. He discarded the used syringe. “While we wait I’ll go get my car.”
Terese nodded. Richard got his ski parka and pulled it on. At the door he told Terese he’d be back in ten minutes.
“So, this is a sibling operation,” Jack commented when he and Terese were alone.
“Don’t remind me,” Terese said, shaking her head. She began to pace as Richard had earlier.
The first effect Jack experienced from the ketamine was a ringing in his ears. Then his image of Terese began to do strange things. Jack blinked and shook his head. It was as if a cloud of heavy air were settling over him, and he was outside of himself watching it happen. Then he saw Terese at the end of a long tunnel. Suddenly her face expanded to an enormous size. She was speaking but the sound echoed interminably. Her words were incomprehensible.
The next thing Jack was aware of was that he was walking. But it was a strange, uncoordinated walk, since he had no idea where the various parts of his body were. He had to look down to see his feet sweep out of the periphery of his vision and then plant themselves. When he tried to look where he was going he saw a fragmented image of brightly colored shapes and straight lines that were constantly moving.
He felt mild nausea, but when he shook himself it passed. He blinked and the colored shapes came together and merged into a large shiny object. A hand came into his field of vision and it touched the object. That was when Jack realized it was his hand and the object was a car.
Other elements of his immediate environment became recognizable. There were lights and a building. Then he realized that there were people on either side of him holding him up. They were speaking but their voices had a deep, mechanical sound as if they were synthesized.
Jack felt himself falling, but he couldn’t stop himself. It seemed as if he fell for several minutes before landing on a hard surface. Then he could only see dark shapes. He was lying on a carpeted surface with something firm jutting into his stomach. When he tried to move he found that his wrists were restrained.
Time passed. Jack had no idea how long. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. But at last he’d regained orientation, and he was no longer hallucinating. He realized that he was on the floor of the backseat of a moving car, and his hands were handcuffed to the undercarriage of the front passenger seat. Presumably they were on their way to the Catskills.
To relieve the discomfort of the driveshaft pressing against his stomach, Jack drew his knees underneath him to assume a crouched-over position. It was far from ideal but better than it had been. But his discomfort was from more than his cramped posture. The flu symptoms were much worse, and combined with a hangover from the ketamine, he felt about as bad as he’d ever felt.
Several violent sneezes caused Terese to look over the back of the seat.
“Good God!” she exclaimed.
“Where are we?” Jack asked. His voice was hoarse, and the effort of speaking caused him to cough repeatedly. He was having a problem with his nose running, but with his hands secured he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I think you
better just shut up or you’ll choke to death,” Richard said.
Terese turned to Richard: “Is this coughing and sneezing from the shot you gave him?”
“How the hell do I know? It’s not as if I’ve ever given ketamine to a person before.”
“Well, it’s not so far-fetched to imagine you might have an idea,” Terese snapped. “You use it on those poor animals.”
“I resent that,” Richard said indignantly. “You know I treat those animals like my pets. That’s why I have the ketamine in the first place.”
Jack sensed that the anxiety that Terese and Richard had evidenced earlier about his presence had metamorphosed into irritation. From the way they were speaking it seemed to be mostly directed at each other.
After a brief silence, Richard spoke up. “You know, this whole thing was your idea, not mine,” he said.
“Oh no!” Terese voiced. “I’m not about to let you get away with that misconception. You were the one who suggested causing AmeriCare trouble with nosocomial infection. It never would have even crossed my mind.”
“I only suggested it after you complained so bitterly about AmeriCare gobbling up National Health’s market share despite your stupid ad campaign,” Richard said. “You begged me to help.”
“I wanted some ideas,” Terese said. “Something to use with the ads.”
“Hell you did!” Richard said. “You don’t go to a grocery store and ask for hardware. I don’t know squat about advertising. You knew my field was microbiology. You knew what I’d suggest. It was what you were hoping.”
“I never thought about it until you mentioned it,” Terese countered. “Besides, all you suggested was that you could arrange some bad press by nuisance infections. I thought you meant colds, or diarrhea, or the flu.”
“I did use the flu,” Richard said.
“Yes, you used the flu,” Terese said. “But was it regular flu? No, it was some weird stuff that has everybody all up in arms, including Doctor Detective in the backseat. I thought you were going to use common illnesses, not the plague, for chrissake. Or those other ones. I can’t even remember their names.”
