What Doesn't Kill You

by Iris Johansen

  “Call Gallo and tell him as soon as we get Chen Lu off to the city, we’ll be leaving.”

  “That’s what he suggested anyway.” She looked down at him and ruefully. “Perhaps we should have chosen the tattoo parlor. This Golden Palace doesn’t seem to have worked out well for any of us. Where do we go now?”

  He was dialing his phone, and said absently, “Wherever those medical records take us…”

  * * *

  “SHE LOOKS PRETTY GOOD.” Gallo had come up behind Catherine as she stood on the dock watching Chen Lu get into the speedboat with her maid. “I thought she’d be in bed for a couple weeks even if she came out of it okay.”

  “She and Hu Chang made a deal.”

  “Is that anything like a deal with the devil?”

  “You’ll have to ask Chen Lu. I don’t believe she would think so.” She went to the speedboat, and said gravely to Chen Lu, “I hope everything goes well with you. If there’s anything I can do, call me.”

  “The only thing you can do is take care of Hu Chang,” she said. “Nothing must happen to him.”

  Catherine nodded. “We’ve been taking care of each other for a long time. I can’t see that changing.”

  “Good-bye, Chen Lu.” Gallo was standing beside the speedboat. “I think I’ve set everything up so that the palace will look almost the same the next time you see it. The gardens will take longer.”

  She smiled faintly. “It will give me the opportunity to start again with them. New starts are important.” She added, “And I haven’t forgotten about my ambition to be the most exciting cougar in all of Hong Kong. I rely on you for inspiration.”

  He nodded and stepped back. “You don’t need inspiration. You just need an audience.”

  She suddenly chuckled. “That may be true.”

  The next moment, the speedboat tore away from the dock in a bright spray of water.

  “What kind of deal?” Gallo asked thoughtfully, his gaze on the receding speedboat. “Venable told me about the medicine that Hu Chang used on himself when he was wounded. He said it saved his life.”

  “She wasn’t that bad. She just needed a little something to strengthen her.” She changed the subject. “Hu Chang has made reservations to go back to the U.S. He said that since all three of those hospitals were in the U.S., the target is probably also in the U.S.”

  He nodded, his gaze still on Chen Lu’s speedboat. “That would be my guess. Where is he?”

  “He’s meeting us at the tunnel you mentioned as our best exit. Did you get a chance to check out the birth records at Hermann Hospital in Houston?”

  He nodded again. “Five male births on that date. But two were black, one Hispanic, and only two Caucasian. Harry Delwin and William Andrews.”

  “Good. Now that we have all the possibilities, we can check out all the hospitals and see if any of the children born that day also had procedures at the two other hospitals in the succeeding years. We have to zero in on a name.” She turned and headed for the dock. “We can do that on the plane to the U.S. as long as we make sure the plane has satellite phones on board. I know Qantas does and maybe Cathay Pacific. I usually don’t carry one unless I think it’s necessary. And you usually aren’t permitted personal satellite phones on commercial flights. Do you have one?”

  He shook his head. “But I’m sure that Hu Chang does, and he could probably finagle any airline into letting him use it,” he said mockingly. “Doesn’t he supply all your needs?”

  “Not in the technical world. He’d just give me some philosophical jargon about why it’s not necessary.” She glanced at him. “That remark of yours sounded a little sarcastic. I was hoping you were getting beyond that.”

  He was silent a moment. “I’m not beyond it, but I’m beginning to accept that he can be trusted in certain circumstances. But I’m not certain what the hell those circumstances are yet. And I don’t think you know exactly what’s going on with him, either. With you, it has to be sheer blind trust.”

  Close. It was true that she didn’t understand everything about Hu Chang. She might never know. But over the years, she had learned some things to which she could cling, and the rest she’d rather accept than do without him. “We’ve been together for quite a few years and he’s never hurt me and everything he’s done has always been for my good.” She grimaced. “He can annoy me, frustrate me, and completely bewilder me, but I’ve never once wished he’d never come into my life.”

  He didn’t speak until they reached the tunnel and saw Hu Chang standing waiting for them some distance away. “That’s a high recommendation for any man. It’s no wonder I’m suffering a tinge of envy. I’m wondering if someday you might say that about me.”

  “Why should I?” She smiled at Hu Chang as they approached. “You’ve made it clear that’s not what you want from me.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” His eyes were glittering with sudden recklessness. “I’ve always been greedy. I want it all. But there are priorities and urgencies. I’ll take what I can get and worry about the rest later.” He added softly, “You’re tensing. Yes, we’re right back where we were. What did you expect? No philosophic jargon from me. What you see is what you get. What we get. And it has to be soon. It would have been nice for us to come together in a beautiful garden with glowing candles and the pretty sound of a fountain, wouldn’t it? But that’s not going to happen. All that’s left of that picture is a bunch of charred cinders. We’ve lost that chance. It’s my fault. I should have pushed harder. But I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Push?” She could feel the flush heat her body, but she wasn’t sure if it was resentment or arousal. “Try pushing me, Gallo.”

  “Oh, I intend to do that. In every possible way and position. Fast. Slow. Shallow. Deep. Push. Push. Push. And I’ll let you decide which you like best.”

  It was arousal, damn him.

  And she could see Hu Chang’s gaze narrowed on her face. She was usually transparent as glass to him. He was still too far away to hear Gallo’s words, but he probably knew exactly what Gallo was doing to her.

  And would continue to do unless she stopped him. She increased her pace and was beside Hu Chang in seconds. “Chen Lu got off several minutes ago. We’re ready.”

  He glanced at Gallo, then looked back at Catherine. “Oh, yes.” He smiled as he turned and started down the tunnel. “I believe you’re more than ready.”

  * * *

  THEIR CATHAY PACIFIC FLIGHT TOOK OFF out of Hong Kong three hours later en route to San Francisco.

  The first-class section was almost deserted, and they had the first five rows to themselves. Catherine made certain her seat was next to Hu Chang’s, and Gallo’s was across the aisle. She pulled out the leather notebook as soon as the flight was airborne. “Charles Keller, Douglas Warnold from St. Luke’s in St. Louis. Harry Delwin and William Andrews from Hermann Hospital in Houston. Nathan Wolf, Simon Cassidy, James Kilpatrick born in Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. The rest is going to be a lot more difficult to zero in on one name out of these possibles. We’ll have to persuade the clerks at the hospitals to scan decades of medical records to try to tie them to one of those babies born in 1965.”

  “Venable?” Gallo said. “We could turn his agents loose on those hospitals and see what they come up with.”

  “We might resort to using him, but we’ve got twenty or more hours on this flight. We can see what we can do. It would drive me crazy just sitting here and doing nothing. I’d rather get to work and have a chance of making a breakthrough.” She took the St. Luke’s Hospital information she’d retrieved as well as the other names. “The first one who strikes pay dirt with a medical procedure on one of these boys at one of those other hospitals in the succeeding years can alert the others. Then we can all narrow down the search to that one name and rule out the other two. But we’ve got to check thoroughly to eliminate coincidence.”

  “Very efficient, Catherine.” Hu Chang got out his own notebook. “But it may take more than
any eighteen hours to plow through those records. First, you’ve got to have cooperation, then the clerk who’s doing the work has to have the time to process it. It’s going to be very difficult to accomplish that on the phone. We’d have a much better chance face-to-face.”

  “Be persuasive,” Catherine said. “Lord knows you shouldn’t have a problem, Hu Chang. I’ve heard people swear you’re hypnotic. You can almost charm birds off the trees.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Gallo said dryly.

  “I don’t recall either charming or hypnotizing you, Gallo,” Hu Chang murmured. “Of course, I never made the attempt. But either method generally requires face-to-face contact.”

  “Then wire bribes into their bank accounts,” Catherine said.

  “Well, that’s certainly persuasive,” Gallo said as he started to dial the phone. “I like the way you think, Catherine.”

  She barely heard him as she gazed down at the names on the list. Which one are you?

  Harry Delwin. William Andrews. Charles Keller. Douglas Warnold. Nathan Wolf. Simon Cassidy. James Kilpatrick.

  What’s going to happen to you on July 3?

  And why are you a target?

  * * *

  “WILLIAM ANDREWS!”

  Eight hours later, Catherine sat upright in her chair as she hung up the phone. “You get the prize, Gallo. It’s the boy born at Hermann Hospital in Houston. Twenty-one years later, William Andrews had a football injury to his spinal cord at the University of Missouri and was taken to St. Luke’s in St. Louis for an operation and therapy.”

  “Are you sure that it’s the same Andrews that was born in Houston?” Gallo asked.

  “No, that’s what we’ve got to find out. It’s a pretty common name.” But her excitement was growing with every passing second. “But St. Luke’s accessed his medical records from Hermann Hospital in Houston before they performed the surgery. They also requested records from his private physician, Dr. Gloria Stovez who has a practice in Sugarland, Texas. I’m trying to get background info now on this Andrews from Venable. I couldn’t get through to him before and had to leave a message. Did either of you find anything on any of the other names on our list?”

  “Zero,” Gallo said. “I’ll change course and try to find records of Andrews at Johns Hopkins.”

  Hu Chang nodded. “That appears to be the reasonable course to follow.”

  Two hours later, Gallo hung up from Johns Hopkins Hospital. “William Andrews suffered a broken ankle on a hiking trip through the Blue Ridge Mountains four years ago. And he recently had a case of food poisoning that required emergency treatment.”

  “Food poisoning,” Hu Chang repeated. “Interesting.”

  “Poisoning always interests you,” Catherine said. “It could have been accidental.”

  “Or it could have been a clumsy attempt that convinced someone that professionalism was required.” Hu Chang looked down at his notes. “So if William Andrews is the target then he was born in Houston, Texas, moved to Columbia, Missouri, to go to college. But he appears to have spent his last years near Washington. I believe it’s time we have Venable tell us who and what Andrews is and why someone is willing to spend a fortune to get rid of him.”

  “I told you, I left him a message to have him work on it,” Catherine said. “Check the personal and credit information patients have to fill out, Gallo. That should tell us something.”

  “And up the ante in the bribe department,” he said wryly. “That’s very sensitive info in this world of stolen IDs. It’s probably at least a misdemeanor.” He waved his hand as she opened her lips. “I know, we need it. I’ll get it.”

  And Gallo did get it after another two hours of probing. “William Andrews is a self-made businessman. Computers. Excellent credit rating. No criminal record. Billionaire. He has no children and recently lost his wife after a long illness. That’s all I could find out from the hospital records. It’s over to you now, Catherine.”

  Bits and pieces. But they were building a picture of the man.

  Picture.

  “We need a photo. See if you can have one sent to us.”

  “Talk to Venable,” Gallo said. “It will be easier for him.”

  She shouldn’t be so impatient. Venable would be getting back to her soon on William Andrews. They had done all they could under the circumstances. “I’ll get another e-mail off to him.”

  After she finished, she leaned back and closed her eyes. William Andrews. Billionaire. What else? Why does someone want to kill you and bury the crime so deep no one will ever find out why or how? “Why, Hu Chang? You’ve dealt with people who kill most of your life. This is so cold-blooded,” she whispered, not opening her eyes. “Because he’s rich? Inheritance?”

  “Perhaps. Or maybe power. Money often translates to power. We’ll have to see.” His fingers gently touched her hand, then were gone. “Let it go for now. It will be with you soon enough.”

  Let it go …

  * * *

  VENABLE PHONED HER WHEN THE PLANE was an hour outside San Francisco.

  “I just got your message,” he said curtly. “For God’s sake, William Andrews?”

  She put the phone on speaker so that Hu Chang and Gallo could hear him. “You sound as if you know him.”

  “Of course I know him. Or about him. I was wondering why the hell you don’t. It is William Scott Andrews you’re talking about?”

  “William Andrews. Some kind of computer mogul. I don’t know anything about—” Then it hit home to her. “You think it’s that Andrews?”

  “Holy shit,” Gallo said. “I’ve heard about him. Though I’ve been too busy to pay much attention, and I’ve never heard him referred to as anything but William Scott Andrews. He’s some kind of politician.”

  “He added his stepfather’s name of Scott to honor him after he died five years ago. He requested the media use that name as well when referring to him,” Venable said. “And you’re right, some people call him a politician. Any way you look at him, he’s big stuff. What do you want to know about him?”

  Catherine was trying to remember what she did know about William Scott Andrews. She usually ignored politicians, but even she had been vaguely aware of the ground swell forming around Andrews. “Everything.”

  “Let me get this straight. You believe he’s Nardik’s target?”

  “I think there’s a good chance.”

  Venable cursed low and vehemently. “And you said there wouldn’t be any way of detecting the means if he was murdered?”

  “That’s what Hu Chang tells me.” Venable had lost his cool, and that didn’t happen often. “Tell me about this William Scott Andrews. Is he crooked?”

  “No,” he said shortly. “What have you found out?”

  “Not much. He’s a billionaire, a self-made businessman who is into computers. He was born in Houston, Texas, went to college in Missouri, where he played football and suffered a spinal injury. Has no children and lost his wife a few years ago after a long illness. That’s it. What can you add to it?”

  “He has a good chance of being the next president of the United States.”

  “What?”

  “No, let me correct myself. He’s a shoo-in if he keeps on the present track. He’s running against Howard Wallace, and Wallace’s numbers tanked as soon as William Scott Andrews announced he was running.”

  “Wait a minute. So he’s a political phenomenon?”

  “No, he’s a patriot. He’s already stated that he wants only one term, then he’ll step down. He said he’ll need that much time to put the country back on the right course.”

  “Patriot?” Gallo asked cynically. “Maybe until he gets to Washington.”

  “Well, he’s managed to convince the Republicans, independents, and a respectable number of the Democrats. The country is scared. Too many wars, too much oil blackmail, too many bureaucracies sucking the life from the economy. According to the polls, the majority of Americans see us losing our grip and becoming an
other Greece or Portugal. They want a Superman to save them.”

  “And this Andrews is a Superman? I may have been out of the country for a long time, but surely I would have heard something more about him if he was a superhero.”

  “He’s only stepped up to the plate in the last six months. And since when have you been interested in politics?”

  He was right; she served the U.S. in the CIA, but the only time the government had any influence on her was when she became angry when Congress was meddling in what the Company was trying to do.

  Gallo was looking at her and nodding. “If the man only stepped onto the political scene in the last six months, he must have launched himself like a comet.”

  “A supernova,” Venable said. “He went back to traditional values and the Constitution, refused to discuss social issues. Told the public that he’d answer any question about foreign affairs, the economy, and reinstating the U.S. as the country of power and values it’s been since 1776. If that wasn’t good enough, he told them not to vote him into office. Because once he was there, he was going to kick ass until he got the job done. And since there wasn’t going to be a second term, he didn’t give a damn about trying to please a base. The future of the American people was his base.”

  “My God,” Catherine murmured. “Is he crazy? Or a saint?”

  “Neither one.” Venable paused. “I don’t know anyone to whom I could compare him. Maybe Abe Lincoln. But Lincoln was a politician, and Andrews is … I don’t know. He stands alone. I … like him, Catherine.”

  “You believe he’s telling the truth?”

  “You should hear him speak. Yeah, you can’t help but believe him. He’s a spellbinder, and he’s smart enough to do the job if anyone can do it. He’s brilliant, built a multibillion-dollar business from scratch, served honorably in the Marine Corps during the First Gulf War. He’s honest, blunt, and, as I said, he’s a patriot. The system is broken. Yes, I’d give him his chance to fix it. I might even volunteer to help.”