by Bill Clem
As the implications of Jonah's phone call began to settle on the dazed Leah, he was worried, though. The whole thing made no sense to him.
Perhaps he should confront Bradley after all and ask him why he lied about Jack McDermott? As he stood there, the nurse walked up.
"Here's the sonogram report on your big man in there, Dr. Leah, and it don't look good."
Leah took the report and gave it a quick look, then shook his head. Could his day get any worse?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jonah Bailey sat holding Eva's cell phone as he stared at the ceiling of the small cabin. It reminded him of a dollhouse with furniture that appeared to have been made in miniature. He was used to big bulky overstuffed chairs he could flop down on. This looked like it would snap in two if he sat on it. He wondered for a minute if he was in the home of the Seven Dwarfs. At the moment, though, it would have to do. He was glad to be anywhere safe.
He shifted his massive frame from one foot to the other and pondered the problem. It reminded him of pathology. He sought simple truths. Many things can lead a person to choose a career; Jonah chose his because it offered answers. Sometimes they were difficult to find. In the end, however, the simple truths always came out. Now, the same determination that he'd used in hundreds of forensic cases, was leading him to seek the answer to why they were in the middle of a nightmare. He would find out.
"Eva, I'm going to the hospital."
"But they're looking for you, and there's no telling what they're capable of. Besides, we don't even know who they are."
"She's right," Jack said. "It's too dangerous."
"I'll be fine. I know a way to get in so they'll never see me."
"If you're sure," Eva said. "Please be careful."
"I'll be Claude Raines without his gauze wrap."
Jack and Eva looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
"Claude who... never mind," Eva said.
Jonah stood a long moment at the windows. He wondered where the men on the snowmobiles were; he knew better than to think they had given up.
They were probably canvassing the area on foot. Satisfied it was clear; he scrambled out the door and toward the road. He stayed close to the row of thick pines that bordered the narrow lane. It made it nearly impossible for anyone to see him. Snow began to fall, but the thick branches of the pines kept most of it off him. He had taken one of the blankets from the cabin and fashioned it into a parka. Since he had not had time to get his coat before they fled Zurich Trauma, it would have to do. With no idea how long he would be exposed, he figured it would keep him warm for a while.
A half mile later, a Zurich Transit Bus screeched to a halt in front of the bus stop. The bus doors cranked open, but no one disembarked. Jonah climbed on and the engines roared back to life. Jonah plopped down in a seat, his mind filled with images of Jack McDermott, Eva, and men in trench coats chasing them. Jonah gazed out the window and tried to orient himself. After twenty years, he was still only familiar with his own route: from the hospital to his flat, which was a mile from the hospital. Most of his time was spent at the morgue. He did have a general idea where he was. Still, he didn't want to be looking for the main road in the dark. The buses, he remembered, did stop near Zurich Trauma. So he felt safe. At least for the moment.
* * *
Back in the cabin, Eva found some newspaper and twisted it up with several sticks of wood. When she realized she didn't have anything to light it with, in the same instant, she remembered she had matches in her on-call bag.
She slipped from beneath her blanket and snatched the nylon bag from the table. Finding the matches, she went to the fireplace, and after several tries, lit the paper. The wet firewood hissed for a few minutes, and then finally, a steady flame licked at the logs. Soon, the heat was radiating through the cabin.
Eva rubbed her hands together. "Wonderful."
Jack still wore the flimsy hospital gown with the imprint: ZT across the front. He sat on the toboggan with the blankets wrapped around his legs. A puddle of water had formed under him where the snow had melted.
"We better get you in some real clothes," Eva said.
Jack grinned. "I don't think you're the right size."
"I believe the guy who owns the cabin might have some that fit."
"He won't mind?" Jack asked.
Eva shook her head. "No, he's only here about once a year. I just keep an eye on the place for him. He won't care, especially under the circumstances."
Jack shifted his weight. "I am a little cold now that you mention it. Maybe I better get off this sled."
Jack stood and wrapped the blankets around him modestly. His legs were still rubbery, but his mind was clear.
Eva took the toboggan and stood it up by the front door. "Let me go see what I can find for you to wear."
"I'll be right here," Jack said. He sat down Indian style in front of the fireplace.
Eva returned a few minutes later with an armful of clothes and a pair of boots. "Here you go."
"They even match," Jack said. "Just like a woman to make a fashion statement under any conditions."
Jack tried on the clothes while Eva pretended to turn her back. After all, she'd already seen him in his birthday suit. He didn't know it, but he was naked in the ER following his accident.
After some tugging, Jack managed to fit into the clothes. Even the shoes fit, Eva observed, with the thick socks she had brought him. "They look like they were made for you."
Jack smiled. "This is much better. That hospital gown is definitely not outdoor-wear. Now if I could just get something to eat."
Chapter Thirty-Five
Helga Samulson couldn't stop thinking about Jack McDermott. Despite Dr. Leah's kind words and Bob Bradley's word that whoever had failed to notify her would be reprimanded, she couldn't help but feel something was amiss. People just don't die like that. She had seen countless patients come and go during the course of her career and had never seen anything like it.
As she stood outside the nurses' lounge and prepared to leave, Helga suddenly recognized the feeling that had plagued her all evening, a sort of vague anxiety and ennui. The new orderly who had picked up McDermott. He seemed out of place and awkward.
Then she remembered.
She had seen him on her way to work earlier that day. Dressed completely different! Why would an orderly come to work dressed in a suit and tie and accompanied by two other men in similar dress? Helga felt her entire body flush.
Someone's lying!
Helga stared a hole in the floor tile. She had always prided herself on good instincts and knowing whom she could trust. Now, for the first time in years, Helga felt alone, uncertain which way to turn. Suddenly, it occurred to her that the only person who might be able to verify what she'd been told was the staff pathologist, Dr. Bailey. She decided she'd pay him a visit and see what he had to say about McDermott's death. She didn't know him personally, but the few times she'd spoke with him, he seemed very professional and easy to talk to. But would he even be here at this hour?
Brimming with new resolve, Helga rushed down the hall and climbed on the elevator and headed for the basement. She exited the elevator and found herself standing almost in total darkness. The dim glare of a lone fluorescent bulb was the only source of light in the entire corridor. In the quiet of the basement, her heels sounded like gunshots as they clicked against the slick tile floor. She scanned the hall for the sign of anyone else, but the only sound she heard was her own pulse in her head. Rounding the corner near the morgue door, her heart sank as she saw it was closed and dark. Damn! Just for the hell of it she grabbed the knob and shook it. To her astonishment, the door swung open and Helga Samulson stood staring at a row of corpses lined up on metal gurneys.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Zurich Trauma Center was a large octagon affair, where, if you walked long enough, you would end up back where you started. If you were in a hurry or didn't want to walk the long way, there were alternative breezeways you
could take to reach your destination. Jonah planned to take one of these alternate routes to get into the hospital without being seen.
Dusk fell and Jonah's last shadow disappeared into the coming night. This time of evening the hospital operated with a skeleton staff. Jonah went virtually unnoticed as he lumbered across the grounds toward the back entrance. Even the crunch of the snow under his massive bulk, was drowned out by the gigantic heating fans on the roof. He disappeared behind a row of English Boxwood hedge that lined the perimeter of the building. Waiting until he was within a few feet of the exit door, he stepped from the shadows.
As a staff physician, Jonah had master keys to all the doors, so it was no problem to gain entry. The back exit was only used by maintenance to empty trash, which was done after midnight. A fact Jonah learned by spending many late nights at the morgue and leaving by that very exit. Standing at the rear doors, Jonah used his key to enter. A siren off in the distance jarred his thoughts. Probably an ambulance ride for some unlucky skier.
The entrance was dimly lit with a lone florescent light that reflected off the white tile floor. The deserted corridors of the hospital felt almost sepulchral at this hour. Jonah's muscles were tense as he hurried in through the heavy steel doors. This wing of Zurich Trauma was nothing but offices and conference rooms. Arriving at the main door of Medical Records, he found it locked. Jonah would have to get into their office if he hoped to find Jack's files. Maybe he could slip into the office while the clerk was at dinner?
Bradley may have taken the records, but there should still be a computer file.
Jonah's heart was racing as he tried to jimmy the lock on the door. Forget it. As he turned, getting ready to check the other door, a light came on down the hall. The sound of footfalls accompanied by voices, loomed behind him.
Jonah felt his chest tighten. Hide or be killed!
Instinctively, Jonah lunged toward the first door he could find and wretched the knob. To his amazement, it opened and he threw himself in. As if to give voice to his own fear, someone was on a cell phone just outside the door. The conversation was muffled by the throbbing of his own pulse in his ears. Jonah felt everything spinning around him now. His eyes swept the room and he saw he had stepped into someone's office. It looked vaguely familiar. Then by the small light on the mahogany desk, he saw the nameplate and knew where he was. Bradley's office!
The voice on the cell phone was just feet away. Jonah's nerve endings began to tingle and fear gripped him. The metallic click of the door handle sent him diving into the first place he could find. Jackets and coat hangers crashed down on top of him as he hit the floor.
Footsteps entered just feet away, and he could hear himself breathing.
Jonah was sure he would be found. Panic stricken, he took one of the coats and placed it over his mouth. The last thing he needed was to be found in the closet of Bradley's office.
Jonah heard the soft click of the telephone receiver, then a man's voice.
"This is Cogswell."
Jonah had a knack for remembering names of staff, and this was not a name he was familiar with. Definitely not staff. So why was he in Bradley's office? Jonah couldn't make out the conversation, but the bits and pieces he heard were about "McDermott and those other two." It didn't take much imagination to figure out who the other two were. Whoever this Cogswell guy was, he was out to get them all--mostly Jack.
Outside the closet, something rustled, then footsteps padded away.
Finally, the door closed. Jonah sat alone in the darkness. His body sagged with relief, and he could feel himself breathing again.
He realized he had no idea what to do next.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jack watched Eva pace the floor as they waited for Jonah to return to the cabin. Every few minutes she would go to the window and look out, then look back at him.
She replaced the blind after the last look, and sat down next to Jack. "He told you not to worry," Jack said.
Eva frowned. "He always tells me that."
"It's good advice."
"You know," Eva said, "I hardly know anything about you, yet I feel like I've known you for a long time."
"Incredible situations tend to do that," Jack said. "Anyway, there's not much to know. I'm a fairly simple guy."
"A simple guy put in an extraordinary set of circumstances," Eva said.
"That about sums it up. How about you, doc, what's your story?"
Eva stopped drumming her fingers on her leg. "Me? I wanna know about you, first. Before all of this."
Jack paused. His heart was racing, and he felt like the proverbial teenage boy. This morning, lying in the hospital bed, he had felt depression closing in.
Right now, he felt like he could fly. He looked into the fire as if it held the answer to what she'd asked. He didn't want to say he never talked about his private life to strangers. Especially since Eva was no stranger. She had saved his life. What was this feeling, anyway? Eva smiled, making the answer very clear, but he didn't want to analyze it.
"Well let's see." Jack leaned back and wrapped his hands around his knees. "I'm from Michigan. My father died when I was ten, so my mother raised me. I went to Michigan State. Majored in journalism. Got a job with a political magazine after college, and I've been there ever since. Like I said, fairly simple. That is, until now. I came here to get an interview with the President. You know, this oil summit thing. It was supposed to be my big break. Instead I break my head."
Eva laughed. "Well speaking strictly as a doctor, you're a very lucky man."
Jack felt his body flush. He took Eva's hand. It was small and cold, and he rubbed it a bit to warm it up. "And I'm very lucky to have you and Jonah. You saved my life. More than one time, too. How can I ever thank you for that?"
In front of the fire, Jack realized how incredibly beautiful Eva was. A thick head of auburn hair that fell in ringlets on her shoulders framed the soft lines of her face.
Eva smiled. "If you want to thank me, you can buy me a Glu-vein after this is all over."
"Ah, Glu-vein. It reminds me of Garmish."
"You've been to Garmish?" Eva asked, surprised.
Jack nodded. "Just a week before I came here. I skied the Zugspitz."
"I love Garmish," Eva said. "I can't believe you were just there. I was there not three weeks ago myself."
"I tell you what," Jack said, gazing into her eyes. If and when, we get out of this, whatever it is. I'll take you to Garmish and buy you a Glu-vein. I promise."
"I'll hold you to it," she said.
Jack realized he was still holding her hand. Eva seemed to feel the connection, and moved a little closer to him. Maybe he would reveal more of himself to her after all? He only hoped he could keep his promise.
It seemed to him, though, someone else had a different idea.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jonah was momentarily frozen, his mind blank. An instant later, he emerged from the darkness of the closet, and into the dim light of Bradley's desk lamp. He squinted as he listened for more sounds. Nothing. He moved toward the door, and noticed a stack of folders on Bradley's desk. On top of the stack was a paper marked: CONFIDENTIAL. He opened the first folder and read the top page, a computer printout from European Organ Procurement Network. His pulse quickened. He held his breath and studied the printout:
POTENTIAL DONOR--JACK G. McDERMOTT
FACILITY--ZURICH TRAUMA
ETD--48 HOURS
RECIPIENT--THOMAS LLOYD
FACILITY----BRIGHTON HEART CENTER
STATUS--EXTREMELY URGENT!
It went on to give diagnosis, prognosis, and a whole list of blood and tissue compatibility reports. Jonah also knew that the ETD next to his name meant: estimated time of death. As if in a dream, Jonah read the paper over and over.
Jonah leaned against the desk and stared in astonishment. Jesus Christ!
No wonder Bradley told Dave Leah, Jack was dead. They were going to use his...
Jonah's mi
nd could not accept what he was seeing. True, Bob Bradley was inept and careless--but he wasn't a murderer. Jonah thumbed through the rest of the folders then closed them up.
He was looking at a conspiracy of an enormous scale.
Going back to the closet, he took out one of the coats he'd knocked down and held it up. This should fit. He slipped one arm in, then the other. It was a long way back to Jack and Eva. At least he'd be warm. He grabbed the folders and jammed them inside the coat, then zipped it up. Now, to get out of here.
Jonah opened the door and peered out. The halls were still deserted and the low hum of a generator was the only sound. He slipped out and closed the door as gently as possible. The smell of freshly waxed floor tile filled the hallway, and he wondered if he would run into the janitor. He stopped and checked his watch. Almost 10:00 P.M. At this hour, he would still be working. He could always make up something about working late.
With his heart pounding, Jonah Bailey padded gently toward the exit as if he were a teenager about to sneak out after curfew. He grabbed the handle of the big steel door and shoved it open. Pulling up the collar of his new coat, he threw a quick glance down the hall, took a deep breath, then stepped into the cold night air.
* * *
Four floors below Jonah, Helga Samulson's eyes bulged in their sockets, and she stifled a scream. A gloved hand had appeared from behind her and now had a death grip on her neck. She tried to cry out, but her lungs were screaming for air as the assailant squeezed tighter and tighter. Finally, with the life draining out of her, Helga Samulson's knees buckled, and she slid to the floor as her eyes rolled back in her head....
* * *
"I don't like this, Cogswell. I don't like it one bit," Frank Bahr said.
"I don't really give a shit whether you like it or not. I'm sure your wife wouldn't like your little tryst with Nadia whatever the hell her name was."
"Oh you know her name all right," Bahr said.
Cogswell would never admit it, but he had set the whole thing up so he could have Bahr in his pocket--and indeed--it had worked. It was 1978. A new CIA agent, Bahr, and his boss, Denton Cogswell, were assigned to the American Embassy in Nuremberg, under the guise of being attaches'.
