Over the next fifteen days, the two men had become fast friends, primarily because John Ashby had finally found a man he could not intimidate and who seemed to be immune to his constant carping and bluster.
When Ashby had recovered as much as he was going to, he moved back to his favorite city, Houston. He bought a two-million-dollar home in River Oaks and had it fitted out as completely as any first-rate hospital suite.
He also put Dr. Alexander on a six-figure annual salary to be at his beck and call, and he gave him the use of his private jet so that the doctor could continue his practice in Corpus Christi while still traveling back and forth to Houston at least once a week to keep tabs on Ashby.
Their friendship had deepened over the past two years, to the point that they were as close as brothers.
Alexander set up a bed tray and thanked Beverly as she placed two china coffee cups on it, one with a glass straw in it so Ashby could sip the coffee without it running down his chin.
After the nurse had quickly left the room, Alexander took a drink of his Colombian brew and smiled. “You have the best coffee in Houston, J.P., even better than Starbucks.”
“It oughta be,” Ashby grumbled around his straw. “The damn stuff costs more per ounce than gold.”
Alexander chuckled. “You can afford it, you old skinflint.”
The corner of Ashby’s mouth turned up again. “Yeah, I can, can’t I?”
“By the way,” Alexander said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Beverly wasn’t within earshot, “I heard something interesting from my sister this morning when I took her to breakfast.”
One of Ashby’s eyebrows rose. “That the one whose kid I’m putting through graduate school?”
“Yes, Kevin’s mother.”
“What did she have to say?”
Alexander pursed his lips, his eyes gleaming. “Well, it seems Kevin’s working for a research scientist over at BioTech, a neurosurgeon who is working on a formula that might be of interest to us.”
“Yeah, what kind of formula?”
“Kevin told his mother that they have had some recent success in making older rats act young again, and, in fact, it even seems as if the rats not only act younger, but they act smarter, too.”
Ashby wagged his head, a look of disgust on his face. “So fuckin’ what? I don’t have any old rats I want made younger or smarter.”
Alexander finished his coffee and set the cup aside as he leaned closer to Ashby’s bed. “Listen, J.P., I’ve done about all I can to keep you alive, but I know this kind of life is unsatisfactory to you. If this formula does all that Kevin says it does, it might just be a way for us to get you up and out of this bed. Making rats smarter means the formula affects the brain in a positive way, and it might just mean it would help reduce the symptoms of your stroke.”
Now he had Ashby’s full attention. “Yeah, but if they’re just now working on rats, human trials are probably years away.”
Alexander nodded slowly. “In the normal course of events, that is probably true. However, most researchers I know are starved for cash, especially now that government funds are so scarce.”
Ashby’s eyes narrowed. “So, if someone with more cash than the government were to offer some to this starving researcher, you think they might part with the formula for some reasonable consideration?”
Alexander shrugged. “With the right amount of persuasion, anything is possible.”
Ashby lay back on his pillow, his eyes wet. “Tom, whatever it takes, whatever Kevin needs, I want you to find out if this fountain of youth is real, and if it is, I want to try it.”
“It might be dangerous, J.P. Just because it works on rats doesn’t necessarily mean it will work on humans, and even then we don’t know what effect it will have on a damaged brain.”
Ashby rose off the pillow, his eyes hard. “Then, whatever it takes, get this researcher to try it on someone else first, and if it works on them, then by God, I’m gonna be the second one to use it!”
Alexander nodded. “Okay then. I’ll take Kevin to dinner and let him know that the sky is the limit as far as what it will take to get his boss to do a human trial as soon as possible, and to let him know that his future is secure if he can manage to get us some of it if it works.”
“Not only his future, Tom, but yours, too, if you can get me out of this fuckin’ bed.”
He put his good right hand out and grasped Tom’s. “You know what this will mean to me, don’t you?”
“Yes, J.P., I do, and I’ll get to working on it right now.”
“Good, then get that lazy nurse in here with a bottle of champagne and two of my Montecristos and we’ll celebrate in style.”
Alexander smiled. It was the first time he’d seen J.P. happy in over twelve months.
CHAPTER 13
Kaitlyn Williams arrived at Sheila’s apartment exactly at the agreed-upon time of eight o’clock. She had dressed to impress, donning her one and only dressy outfit—the typical “little black dress,” covered by a fox fur coat, and a stunning Hermès scarlet scarf. This wardrobe was a relic of her much earlier days as a respected neurosurgeon and was slightly too large for her, as she’d lost weight in the marathon sessions she’d spent working in her lab.
While waiting for Sheila to answer the door, she self-consciously rubbed the fur, trying to gain some solace from the soft feel of the coat.
Sheila let her in and showed her to a seat at the dining room table, where she had set out a glass of white wine for her and Williams, and a bottle of beer for her husband.
Burton Ramsey stood at the window looking out over the city, watching the lights of downtown Houston twinkle in the darkness, and he didn’t bother to turn and look at Kat when she entered. He was angry and bored, and was doing nothing to hide his displeasure from his wife. They’d had a righteous row about her inviting Williams to a sit-down dinner to discuss their serums, and he was still smarting at the way Sheila had stood up to him. She’d finally told him to sit down, shut up, and act like a grown-up. He was still pouting over the remark.
Sheila poured Kat a glass of wine, then she glanced up to see Ramsey’s scowl reflected in the glass of the window. “Burton, come over here and sit down. Dr. Williams has come here to discuss your serums and the possible beneficial effects that might come from combining them. The least you can do is listen to her.”
She’d purposely refrained from telling him what Kat had told her about the effects the combination might have on the aging process.
Ramsey turned, his scowl deepening. He stared at Williams for a moment, relishing her hangdog look. “Sheila, I’ve told you that my serum is complete as it is. I don’t need Dr. Williams’s serum, or Dr. Williams herself!”
Kat looked up at Ramsey, then around at the apartment. She shook her head, thinking to herself, I can’t believe any man is stupid enough to give up this apartment—or a woman like Sheila. A man that dumb is going to be hard to deal with.
Ramsey strolled over to the dining room table and picked up his glass of beer, staring into the bubbles as if they could tell him how to get through this evening and put Williams in her place without completely alienating his wife.
He gave Kat a disdainful glance. “As far as I’m concerned, this meeting is a complete waste of time and effort.” He raised his glass to her in a mocking toast, then he drank the beer down in one, long convulsive swallow.
Williams turned to Sheila, raising her eyebrows for permission to speak.
Sheila shrugged as if to say, It’s your one and only chance, and sat back, sipping her wine.
“Dr. Ramsey, if you’ll just hear me out, I promise you that it won’t be a waste of your time. In fact, it might be the most profitable time you’ll ever spend.”
Ramsey’s ears perked up at the word profitable. He took off his wristwatch and laid it on the table as he sat down. “Okay, Williams, you have exactly ten minutes to get my attention, then it’s out the door with you.”
Kat took
a quick drink of wine, marshaling her thoughts, then she leaned forward and began to talk. She outlined in abbreviated fashion her experiments, noting the initial success and eventual failure of her serum to continue to cause the antiaging and intelligence-building effects. Finally, with mounting excitement, she told of the differences in the rats after her serum was combined with Ramsey’s.
Finally, exhausted with the effort, she leaned back in her chair and finished her wine, never taking her eyes off Ramsey.
Ramsey put his hands behind his head and leaned back, staring at the ceiling, thinking. After a few moments, he looked over at Sheila. “What do you think? Do you believe any of this?”
Sheila steepled her hands in front of her face. “Burton, from what I know of your serum, and from what Kat has told me of hers, I think you two may have stumbled onto the find of the century.”
She reached over and poured herself another glass of wine. “I have been thinking about this ever since Kat told me about the experiments. I believe her serum has caused the brain cells to begin to divide and grow, thus increasing intelligence and reversing some of the effects of aging on the central nervous system. However, the increased metabolic rate this induces causes a rapid buildup of toxic by-products and free radicals, which then cause even more rapid aging and deterioration.”
She spread her hands. “When combined with your serum, which greatly increases the body’s ability to handle and dispose of these toxic metabolic by-products, the effect becomes permanent and additive.”
Both Kat and Ramsey stared at Sheila, their eyes wide and their mouths open at the depth of her knowledge of the way their serums could be interacting.
After a moment, Ramsey frowned as he thought about what she’d said. And then he snapped his fingers. “Of course! As the cells continue to grow and divide, and the body continues to eliminate the free radicals and toxins, the organism tends to regress in age.”
He slammed his hand down on the table, looking back and forth from Kat to Sheila. “Jesus! We’ve got the fucking fountain of youth here!”
Williams smiled uncertainly at the coarse language, then she grinned widely. “Of course, we’ll need to do more testing to determine the best ratio of the serums to use, and to further determine whether there are any negative side effects, but I do believe you’re right, Burton.” She cringed inwardly at her inadvertent use of his first name, and hoped it wouldn’t alienate him further.
A sly expression crossed Ramsey’s face. “And just how do you propose we do all of this without the government finding out about it?”
“Why . . . uh . . . I don’t know. I suppose I haven’t given it much thought one way or the other.”
Ramsey got up and went to the refrigerator. He pulled out another beer and twisted the cap off. At the table, he refilled his glass and then, after taking a quick drink, he sat down and leaned forward. “Kat, how long has it been since you’ve read your contract of employment with the center?”
Williams rubbed her face with her hand. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at, Burton.”
“Just this. If we go through the center with this breakthrough, we’ll be lucky to ever see a dime from it other than our usual salary. The first thing the progress committee will do is classify it, and bury it, and that’s the last we’ll ever see of our serums. We’ll get a slap on the back and maybe even a nice letter of commendation for our records, but otherwise it’ll be zip, nada, bupkes, while they continue to test and develop it for their own use!”
Kat glanced from Sheila to Ramsey. “You really think so?”
“I know so. What we have to do is create a little diversion, a computer smoke-screen, for want of a better analogy. You need to go into your computer and erase all evidence of the successes you’ve had, and make ’em think that every road has been a dead end.”
Kat lowered her eyes and thought about this for a moment. When she finally looked up, she asked, “What about you? What are you going to do about Dottie, and your computer data?”
Ramsey leaned back and smiled. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m way ahead of the game. Dottie knows nothing about my experiments, and her computer knows even less.
He hesitated. “What about your assistant?”
Kat grimaced. “Kevin is pretty much up on what is going on. He is fully familiar with the chemical composition of my formula. In addition, he knows that our rats are doing much better, and he knows that I accidentally combined our serums. Of course, he has no knowledge of what your serum is or what it is intended to treat.”
Ramsey nodded slowly. “Okay, there are a few ways of getting around that. Now, here’s what we’ll do . . .”
The rest of the evening was spent deciding how the two scientists were going to do their combined testing without the supervisors at the center suspecting what was going on.
As Kat left Sheila’s apartment, dawn was breaking over the Houston skyline. Ramsey’s parting words to her were not to expect him at the center before noon, because he had some serious planning to do.
* * *
The next day, each of the researchers prepared for their upcoming deception. Ramsey told Dottie that he had decided to help Dr. Williams with some of her experiments, which caused Dottie to shake her head in wonderment at the ever-changeable moods of Dr. Ramsey. For the rest of the day, she wandered around the lab mumbling to herself and casting strange looks at Ramsey.
In her lab, Kat told Kevin that Dr. Ramsey would be doing some work in their lab, attempting to help her find the answer to her rats’ earlier deterioration and to try to figure out why their serums worked so well when combined. Although he thought she had lost her mind to invite such a cretin into their lab, Kevin’s only verbal response was to ask whether Dr. Ramsey was going to be smoking in the lab, and if so, could he be excused when Ramsey was present. Relieved, Kat said that of course he could. She told Kevin he could retire to the center’s library to catch up on his studies when Ramsey was in the lab.
Kat then spent most of that next day spreading smoke and fog throughout her computer program, obliterating any evidence of success in her previous experiments. Acting on Ramsey’s suggestion, she started a separate notebook detailing her actual experiments and their results. Ramsey had suggested a small notebook that Kat could keep with her at all times, to forestall any chance of detection by the powers that be at the center.
Ramsey strolled into Kat’s lab at four thirty, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Kevin took one look at the smoke eddying around his head, scowled, and left the lab.
Ramsey walked around the lab, picking up several pieces of equipment and looking at them for a moment, then putting them down. He bent over and peered into the rat cages, smiling at the daub of dye on their backs. “Quite a setup you have here, Kat. Very professional.”
Kat, uncertain whether Ramsey was being sarcastic, didn’t answer. She had decided that the best way to deal with Ramsey was to say as little as possible and try to extract as much information out of him as she could. In spite of his vow to work with her, Kat still trusted the man about as far as she could throw him.
Finally, Ramsey sat next to Kat’s desk and, finding no ashtray, crushed his cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe. He put the butt in his lab pocket, then turned to her. “Kat, we need to set some ground rules for our collaboration.”
Kat nodded, not trusting herself to speak, for she had absolutely no idea what was about to come out of the man’s mouth.
“First, I don’t think either one us trusts the other very much.” He raised his eyebrows in silent interrogation, and when Kat just shrugged, he went on. “Therefore, I think it best if we keep the formulae of our own serums to ourselves. I will make up my serum in my lab, and you will make up yours . . . without either of us knowing just what is in the other’s serum.”
Kat frowned. “But how will we know whether there’s some conflict in the ingredients?”
Ramsey waved his hand in dismissal. “We’ll know if the serums work toge
ther, and that’s all we really need to know.” He smirked. “If there’s a conflict and they aren’t compatible, that’s all we need to know . . . right?”
Unconvinced, Kat nodded. “Okay. But if they don’t work, then at some point we’re going to have to compare notes on the formulae to figure out how to fix the problem.”
“Okay, then we’ll cross that bridge when and if we come to it. Now, let’s get to work. I propose that we scrap all the previously used rats and start fresh with new controls and new experimental animals.”
“I agree. We’ll start over from scratch so that there’ll be no question of any contamination of our experiment with any others.”
“Great. So, let’s do it!” Ramsey withdrew a vial of clear liquid from his lab pocket and held it out to her.
Kat took one of her vials out, reached up, and clinked the vials together. “To us, and to the Serum of Youth.”
Ramsey grinned, and said, “Amen, sister, from your lips to God’s ears.”
After they combined the serums, they injected six rats taken at random from the rat cage and put blue dye on their backs.
Once that was done, they agreed to meet at the lab at nine o’clock the next morning, and they each headed home.
* * *
Kat had no idea that eyes were watching her leave the lab. As soon as her car pulled out of the parking lot, a man entered the lab and went straight to her computer.
While it was booting up, he rummaged through her desk, looking for any notes or other written documents that might pertain to her experiments.
Finally, the computer was ready, and he entered the database of her experiments that he’d copied before to see if anything new had been added.
His eyes widened, and he snarled angrily when he saw completely different progress notes than what had been on the computer last week.
“That little bitch!” he exclaimed, slamming the laptop lid closed.
Whirling around, he stormed out of the lab and into the hall.
Dust to Dust Page 11
