Well, he still had control. He would throw money at the Nick and Maggie problem until it went away. Money made everything right.
He lifted his head again until he could see early light coming through the top of the window. Water. His throat ached with thirst. As he pushed himself up on one arm, ever alert, Robert stirred and opened his eyes. Seeing Wright move, he leaped off his chair and went to his side.
“Mr. Paul, how do you feel, sir?”
“Robert, my friend…how did you find us?” Wright said, struggling to sit up.
Robert bent to help him sit and smiled. “Only by God’s grace, sir. Can I get you something?”
“My throat is parched like the Sahara. Could you please get me some water?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Wright supported his ribs with his hand and breathed as deeply as he could. He hadn’t seen Robert since he’d left for Calcutta and was amazed at how rapidly he’d healed. The IGF-1 medication would make him billions. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and held his pounding head. His hair was matted, and he felt for the wound, trying to judge its severity.
Robert was about to hand him a glass of water when Nick pushed it away and grabbed Wright by the throat. “You son of a bitch. You think you deserve any mercy?” The grip around Wright’s neck tightened to the point that air stopped moving. “I’ll show you mercy.”
Wright clawed at Nick’s hand, and his eyes shot wide. He tried to choke out words. “Nic…” His aching brain screamed for oxygen.
A black curtain of unconsciousness started to fall over his vision just as Nick let go. Wright found himself on his back, gagging and coughing, shooting pain through his broken ribs. His muscles flexed to strike back, but he had no strength.
“How could you do that to Maggie?” Nick now had him by the shirt. “She trusted you. We both trusted you!” he screamed in Wright’s face.
As he’d done when the orangutan attacked, Wright let his body go slack. Maybe Nick’s rage would pass, but the pressure on his chest squeezed his broken ribs, and he gasped for breath. “Dr. Hart. I’m sorry. Maggie…” He glanced at her. Her eyes were wide and dilated. “We can work this out, I promise.”
“You’ll be lucky if I let you live,” Nick screamed. Spittle shot from his mouth.
Robert interceded by squeezing his body between the two men. “There will be justice, Nickloss. Please, do not take it into your own hands…please,” he begged.
Nick stood upright, crossed his arms, and glared at Wright. “I bet you know about the problems with your drugs, don’t you?” He started to go for Wright’s throat again, but Robert pulled him back.
“Dr. Hart…Nick…please,” Wright pleaded. “I’ll make this right. You know these medications will help millions of people.” He tried to scoot back on the bed and looked at Robert, remembering how his wounded face had looked. “You gave Robert the IGF-1 medication? My god, look at him. Just look at him. See how well it worked?”
Nick relented and looked at Robert. His face softened.
“Nick, you’re going to ease the suffering of countless people,” Wright said. “You know the value of this medication.”
While Nick’s wrath waned, Wright saw what he was looking for—his .357 Mag on the coffee table in front of the couch. But the doctor’s anger returned.
“That medication almost killed a little girl,” Nick said. “I’ve talked with the biochemist. You are hiding data from the FDA. You and Boxler are going to be exposed. I’ll see to that.”
“Nick, come on. We can solve this. Help us unlock the riddle of this powerful drug. You know every drug has issues. Just watch any advertisement on the television for medications, and you know that. Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater. Come on, Dr. Hart. We can do this together.”
Nick glanced at Maggie and his face flushed with fury.
“This will be your drug—your legacy,” Wright pleaded.
Nick fumed, his temples pulsed with rage.
Wright had no clue why his statement infuriated the doctor.
“My legacy is going to see to it that you are stopped,” Nick said. “You and your dragon lady are going to jail. I’m putting a stop to your dangerous medications. I took an oath: ‘First, do no harm,’ and that is exactly what I am going to do. I am not going to let you harm anyone else. You and your empire are going down!” He turned his back to Wright. “Let’s take this asshole to jail.”
Wright thought the tempest was over, but Nick swung around, his fist catching Wright’s jaw, snapping his head back.
Stars filled Wright’s vision as he slumped to the bed.
“That was for Maggie,” Nick shouted, shaking out his hand. “Let’s go,” he demanded again.
Two of Robert’s men grabbed Wright by the arms and heaved him off the bed onto his feet. Wright staggered, trusting his entire weight to their hands.
They dragged him toward the door. As they pulled him through the living room, Wright mustered his strength and pushed one man to the floor, grabbed his pistol off the table, turned and shot the other man. The bullet hit him in the shoulder and spun him to the floor. Wright reeled to face Nick, who had stepped forward.
“Back off!” Wright yelled at Nick, then turned to Robert, who was already at the door. “Robert, you and your men should go.” He indicated with the barrel of the gun that the one on the floor should help his injured friend. “The doctor and I have business to discuss.”
Robert hesitated, but Wright did not. He aimed the gun and shot. Wood splintered the door frame. “The next one is for your chest, old man. Go!” he yelled.
Wright’s mind was clearer than it had been for days. Power and control surged like high-voltage electricity through his brain.
Robert and the other Iban supported the wounded man out the door. Wright kept the gun pointed at Nick’s chest while he stepped toward the window to watch Robert and his men climb in the boat, start the outboard, and leave.
“You stupid, stupid man. You think this will end well for you?” Wright said, stepping toward the doctor and leveling the gun at his head. He sidestepped, grabbed Maggie by her broken arm and yanked her to him. She cried in pain.
“Now, Doctor, you have one of two choices. You can work with me or work against me. One, you save Kumārī’s life, the other…well, let’s not go there.”
“I’m not your princess!” Maggie yelled at Wright.
Her strength surprised him. She punched him in his broken ribs, and he heard the bones crunch. The pain threatened to bring back the darkness. He saw the doctor moving toward him and got off a shot that stunned and stopped Nick. Wright then whirled toward Kumārī and smacked her hard across the face with the butt of the gun. She collapsed.
“You two are not making this easy for me. This could have been so easy.” Madness returned to his brain.
Voices. The voices were back—laughing at him. “You’re done,” one yelled into his ears.
He pressed the pistol to Kumārī’s head. “If I can’t have her, no one can have her.” He cocked the hammer back.
“Wright, no!” Nick screamed. “Let’s figure this out. You’re right. We can work this out.” He took a step forward with his palms up in surrender.
“Back off or she’s dead,” Wright yelled and straightened his arm to pull the trigger.
“NO!” Nick yelled.
Wright felt a prick to his neck like the sting of a bee. He straightened, trying to get his balance. “Hmm,” he whispered. His body felt strange as it disconnected from his brain.
* * *
Nick’s knees went weak. He watched Wright straighten his spine and saw his eyes go wide with confusion and resignation. Wright dropped the gun and his body collapsed in a heap.
Robert stood inside the door holding his blowgun.
“Agi idup, agi ngelaban,” Robert yelled.
CHAPTER 53
SAD VICTORY
Nick felt for a pulse at Wright’s neck. There was none. He hesitated. Why should he he
lp this monster? But his natural reflexes followed the Hippocratic Oath ingrained since med school, and he flipped Wright onto his back and started chest compressions.
Robert put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s no use, Nickloss. The poison is irreversible,” Robert said sadly.
Nick continued for another half a minute but knew in his heart that Robert was right. It was a feeling he recognized, having helped with multiple futile resuscitations. Wright was dead…his spirit had left, not to return. Nick collapsed on the floor next to the body, exhausted—confused—relieved.
Robert’s men broke through the front door and burst into celebration when they saw Wright, cheering and repeating Robert’s battle cry.
“Agi idup, agi ngelaban,” the men shouted. “Agi idup, agi ngelaban.”
“Rentap finally is victorious over James Brooke,” one man shouted. “The battle cry of Rentap’s warriors will be sung in the villages. Agi idup, agi ngelaban—Still living, still fighting.”
Nick looked at Robert, who averted his eyes to the floor in sorrow and shook his head. “This victory gives me no life,” Robert said.
“We should head downriver,” Nick said. He got up, went to Maggie and wrapped his arms around her. “We need to get care for Maggie and your man with the gunshot wound to his shoulder. What should we do with Wright’s body…leave it here?”
“No, we will care for him, like our brother,” Robert said solemnly. “He was deranged but still one of God’s children. Like all of us, he had his demons to fight. Now his battle is over.”
Robert sat next to the body. “We will prepare his body and get him to the research center. I do not know what his last wishes were, but I suspect he will want to remain in Borneo. We’ll have to contact the authorities and Ms. Boxler when we get to the center.”
Robert reached to Wright’s face and swept his dead eyes closed. “God have mercy on your soul, Mr. Paul.”
* * *
Boxler dropped the harsh attitude and became a southern peach, flying over personally to make arrangements for Wright’s body. Kuching’s authorities demanded the body be brought to the capital of Borneo. The investigation would start in their jurisdiction. They also required an autopsy for the homicide inquiry. Nick suggested they perform a thorough examination of the man’s brain. After all, brain tumors could often throw a person into madness.
For now, Nick and Maggie were back in Singapore at the Ruby Hospital. He smiled at Maggie as they wheeled her into the pre-operative area. There was a lot to process, but it could wait. Her care came first. “How are you doing?”
She shook her head. “Nicklaus, I’m so sorry…”
“Okay, that’s enough of that. I know we have lots to talk about, but there will be time for it.” He put his hand on her cheek and adjusted the bouffant surgical hat on her head. “This is cute.” He grinned.
“My God, Nicklaus, how do we get into these messes?”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
She sighed. “I’m kind of nervous. I don’t think I like being on the patient side of things. How long will my surgery take?”
“Probably a couple of hours. They’ll plate the humerus.”
Maggie nodded. She looked him up and down. “You know, you look good in scrubs.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She finally showed a semblance of a smile. “Nick, I know you must feel like a rusted scalpel, but I’m sure glad you’ll be in there with me.” She reached for his hand.
“Well, it was nice of the surgeons to invite me in. I think the best thing I can do in there is pray for you.”
“And the most important thing,” Maggie added.
CHAPTER 54
JUSTICE
Maggie slept soundly. Nick stood at the large window of their top-floor room of the Marina Bay Sands Hotel, grateful she was recovering well. The large shopping area, casino, and ArtScience center sprawled below. No wonder the Singapore officials and even the US Embassy hesitated to investigate Wright’s business dealings further. He practically owned the city—even though he was dead.
This was the hotel where he and Maggie had been scheduled to stay while she accepted the grant. Nick shook his head and fought the anger that kept trying to settle into his soul. He looked at the ArtScience Center that Wright had built and where the foundation party had been held. Everything that had happened in the past week flooded his mind and he fought back his rage.
Nick was livid that Wright had used Welltrex to manipulate Maggie and how he modified the Confide spray to trick her brain. At the heart of the mixture was oxytocin, the love hormone. Funny way of showing love.
After collecting everyone’s statements, the Singapore police ruled that Wright’s death was clearly a case of self-defense, and they would not pursue charges against Robert, Nick or Maggie. It made Nick angry that the cops had even said that, as though Wright’s death was somehow their fault.
He knew he had to find a way to put it all behind him.
At least the Borneo homicide investigator had talked to Nick, something that the Singaporean officials seemed hesitant to do. The investigator told Nick that the autopsy revealed high levels of Welltrex. So Wright had been dipping into his own medications. Dissection of his brain revealed no tumor, but a significantly undersized pineal gland.
Nick’s phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID—Kerri Kim. She was calling from her cell phone. He answered it with his mouth covered to keep from waking Maggie. “Hi, Kerri,” he whispered. “Give me a minute.”
He walked out to the balcony and closed the sliding door behind him.
“Hey, Kerri, thanks for calling me back.”
“How is your friend?” Kerri asked.
“She’s okay…her arm is probably the least of her concerns,” he said and turned right to business. “I imagine my office is already cleaned out?”
“I’m afraid so, Dr. Hart.”
“Well, that was my shortest employment since a two-day stint at McDonald’s when I was a freshman in high school.” He laughed.
“What can I help you with, Dr. Hart? I have to get back to the office shortly.”
He could hear either angst or annoyance in her voice. “Kerri, I know you are taking a chance in calling me, but I’m just looking for some understanding. I heard from the investigator in Borneo this morning about Mr. Paul’s post-mortem. He had high levels of Welltrex.”
There was a long pause. “And?” she asked.
“Do you think this had anything to do with his descent into madness?”
“Hard to know,” she said. “Remember, Dr. Hart, I was not on that team.”
“Come on, Kerri, throw me a bone here. I need to understand this. And if there’s a problem, don’t you guys need to know?”
He could hear her sigh.
“Dr. Hart. I don’t know if you remember back to neurophysiology in medical school, but too much dopamine can cause schizophrenia. I’m not saying the Welltrex caused this. I don’t know. I’m probably saying too much.”
“The dissection of his brain showed shrinkage of his pineal gland. I don’t remember much about that area of the brain.”
“I don’t know, Dr. Hart. I still work for Zelutex, remember?”
Nick’s stomach churned with anger. “You know I’m going to have to report all this to the FDA.”
There was a long pause, and Nick worried she’d hung up on him.
“Dr. Hart…you’ll have to do what your conscience tells you, but remember my warnings from before. There is a lot of money at stake. Please watch your back. I was involved in something like this at another company. They usually find some low-level marketing person to throw to the wolves, and the top people go unscathed. You also must understand that these big-pharma companies have the FDA and all the other regulatory agencies in their back pocket. They send millions to the FDA every year.”
It was Nick’s turn to sigh.
“Will you help me with this?” he finally
asked her.
“I’m afraid I need this job, Dr. Hart. They pay me well.” Kerri paused. “Dr. Hart, everyone always says they like whistleblowers, but the reality is they really don’t. You must understand there are eight thousand other people just like me counting on their paychecks from Zelutex every week. Boxler will make you out to be some crazed, disgruntled employee that only worked there for less than a week and doesn’t have his facts straight.”
Nick nodded. She was right. “Kerri, thank you…maybe in a different life, we would be friends.”
“Maybe so, Dr. Hart. Maybe so.”
Nick hung up the call and rested his arms on the balcony railing. He wanted to scream and throw his phone over the edge. Yes, they would make him out to be the crazy one. It just wasn’t fair. The injustice of the world bubbled in his chest—his next call would be to Amy’s sister, Allison. He would tell her to hold onto the files Amy had sent to her. He may need them to protect himself.
CHAPTER 55
GOOD-BYES
Life in Borneo was unchanged. It was as if a storm had passed through, then the sun had reemerged.
Maggie encouraged Nick to go and say his good-byes to Robert and his longhouse family. Nick was happy to do that. He doubted he would see Robert again on this side of heaven. Besides, getting Robert’s man home from the hospital gave Nick a great excuse. Wright’s bullet had shattered the head of his humerus, which had been replaced with a metal ball. The man seemed to take it all in stride and smiled widely when they turned the corner and the longhouse came into view.
He explained to Nick the best he could in broken English about the long-standing battle between Rentap and James Brooke, Robert’s and Wright’s great-great-great-grandfathers. The score had finally been settled. Brooke’s enslavement of the Iban was broken. “Still living, still fighting,” the man said proudly.
When they arrived, Nick smiled at the grand welcome. He had no idea how the Iban communication network operated, but the entire village stood on the bank of the river as they had when he’d first met them. The excitement in the air was electric.
The Rusted Scalpel Page 34