The man in the hallway stepped back in alarm as the door opened suddenly and then recovered enough to hold up the two packages he was carrying and said, “Your laundry, sir. We rushed it through as you requested.”
Dan stood and stared at the man and the packages for a few seconds then burst into laughter. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I thought you might be someone else.” He took the packages from the deliveryman and handed him a generous tip. Then he closed the door and turned around. Sheila was still standing there with the vase still in her hand. There was a smoldering fury in her green eyes that he had never seen before and this, plus her long and slightly disheveled red curls, made him stop a moment and then he laughed.
“I guess not all of the Vikings left Ireland, did they?” he said. She laughed with him and put the vase back on the table.
“Maybe not,” she replied as she pushed back her hair and he could see a different excitement forming in her eyes, “maybe not.” Without saying anything, they decided to keep wearing their robes and they hung their newly washed and ironed clothes in the closet. By the time they had hung their clothes and cleaned up the flowers that Sheila had dumped on the floor there was another knock on the door. This time it was room service and the waiter wheeled in the dining table, complete with a vase of roses and two tall, pink, tapered candles. The waiter quietly lit the candles while Sheila simply looked at Dan, her lips pursed in that way that women do that can mean so many different things.
The waiter deftly removed the warming covers from their meals and then bid them an enjoyable meal and a pleasant evening. After the waiter left, Dan poured each of them a glass of wine and then said, “I think we should have a toast.”
“Certainly,” Sheila said, “go ahead.”
He lifted his glass and looked at her, “To my heroine, the beautiful Sheila O’Neill, fearless and true, who will, no doubt, be always remembered for her expertise with the deadly flower vase!”
Sheila laughed heartily as she recalled the scene at the door and then raised her glass, “And to the handsome and mighty Daniel Quinn, navigator and explorer of the rapids of the River Lee, a man who can strike fear into the hearts of deliverymen in hotels everywhere!” Dan roared in laughter as he thought of the way he had acted, and then they clinked their glasses and drank deeply of the delicious wine. They looked at each other as they put their glasses on the table and they each burst into laughter again as the stress of the day began to leave their thoughts.
The entrées were as delicious as any Dan and Sheila had ever had – made all the more delicious by their conversation and the sense of relief and safety they now felt. When they had finished their dinners, all that was left was the long stemmed strawberries, dipped in Belgian chocolate. Dan held one of the strawberries by the stem and held it to Sheila’s lips. She looked at him for a long moment and then opened her mouth to let the chocolate-coated berry rest lightly on her tongue before she closed her lips around the red fruit. As she sank her teeth into the fresh strawberry the sweet juice filled her mouth and a small trickle spilled out and dripped onto her chin.”
“Ooops! I got it,” Dan said and he wiped her chin with his index finger and then licked the juice from his fingertip. Then it was time for Sheila to feed him…
It was late evening when they finally finished their meal. Without a word being said between them they knew it was time for bed. Sheila stood beside the king-sized bed and pulled back the duvet; then she turned and looked back at Dan and her eyes glowed green again in the soft light of the candles. However, this time it was different; it was the green of the forest and the fields of Ireland and the mist-shrouded hills of the Celts. She slipped the robe off of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She stood there a few seconds smiling happily at him before she climbed under the covers.
Dan had stood entranced as he watched her, but now he felt his heart begin to race and he walked over to the other side of the bed. He untied the belt of his robe and, like Sheila, he let it drop to the floor and then he lifted the corner of the duvet so that he could join her.
“You look like you have high expectations,” she said grinning widely as she looked him over.
Dan laughed and said, “I guess I do”
“Good,” she replied, “you won’t be disappointed.”
Eighteen
Several hours after sunrise the next day, while both Dan and Sheila slept, the ultra-modern, silver and green, Dublin-to-Cork train rolled to a gentle stop at the Cork train station. Stephen Itagaki stretched, arched his back, and lightly rubbed his eyes. Surprisingly, he wasn’t tired now. He had slept well on the long Japan Airlines flight to London and then he had caught a short Aer Lingus flight over to Dublin. There had been no trouble passing through Irish customs and immigration and now he had even taken a restful nap in Iarnrod Eireann’s first class railcar during the three-hour trip to this brash and bustling “rebel city” on the southern coast of Ireland.
The rural Irish, if not the Cork city dwellers, would have called this a soft day. A light mist was falling while translucent gray and white clouds drifted easterly across the sky. The streets were shiny black as rainwater ran in small rivulets along the curbs. Stephen stood in the exit door of the train station and watched the brightly colored umbrellas bob through the parking lot as the other passengers walked to their cars. For a brief moment he enjoyed the light breeze that carried the refreshing scent of trees and grass and the nearby ocean. Then he saw the taxi stand off to his right and a minute later he had decided upon a plan.
“Do you know a good hotel near the University College Cork?” he asked the driver of the first cab in line.
“Certainly, sir. That would be Jurys; no doubt about it.”
“Excellent. Take me there. I need to get a room.”
“Would you be having a reservation then?” the driver asked. “I believe they might be quite full this time of year.”
“No, I don’t. But, never mind. They’ll give me a room. Hotels always have rooms if you have enough money.”
The taxi driver said nothing but only raised his eyebrows slightly. Then he replied, “Yes sir. Jurys it is,” and then drove away from the train station towards the city center.
Sheila lay in bed savoring the warmth of the duvet while she looked at the large window of their room and lazily watched the tiny streaks of rainwater as they ran in squiggles down the glass. I wonder what time it is? she thought and turned to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was nearly eleven a.m. She smiled and shook her head. Then she leaned over and lightly kissed Dan on his brow.
“Wake up, Dan,” she whispered, “do you have any idea what time it is?”
Dan moved his head slightly and pulled the duvet up over his shoulders. Then, a second later, he opened his eyes and the light from a bright blue break in the passing clouds streamed into his eyes. He quickly turned towards Sheila. It took him a moment to remember where he was; then it all came back to him as he sat up.
“How long have we slept? Those men…they must still be...” He shook his head and looked towards the window but he couldn’t see the street from their fifth floor room. He looked back at Sheila and saw her easy smile and an expression of softness in her eyes. Then he remembered, and realized it hadn’t been a dream. His sense of tension left him and he kissed her on the lips.
“Come on, you,” she said. “We had better get up and going. We need to call Brendan and come up with a real, detailed plan – but first – breakfast.”
“I’m for that,” he said. A few moments later they had placed a call to room service and then they went to shower together.
While Dan and Sheila showered and dressed a Cork city taxi pulled into the parking lot and stopped outside the main hotel entrance. The passenger got out and spoke to the driver through the passenger’s window.
“Wait for me here,” Stephen said, “I just want to get a room and drop off my luggage. After that I need you to take me to the University.” He took his suitcase, with th
e frozen mammoth specimen still packed in dry ice inside, into the lobby and spoke briefly with the clerk at the registration desk. He had been right, of course; they would be able to provide a room for him, not immediately, unfortunately, but after lunch. Reluctantly he left his suitcase with the bellman, but he decided to leave a very large tip as a sort of insurance policy and then asked him to watch it carefully. What else can I do? he thought. Then he turned and walked back to the taxi.
“Dan.” he whispered to himself as he got into the back seat. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out his Palm Pilot. A quick look at his email inbox proved to be a disappointment. Dan hadn’t replied to his message.
“Damn,” he said, “what’s the matter with him?” Stephen checked his watch. It was nearly eleven thirty. He dialed Dan’s office but Dan didn’t answer. After five rings the secretary answered. She told him that Dan was not available and asked if she could take a message, but Stephen had declined to leave one. He didn’t want anyone except Dan to know he was here.
“Let’s just go anyway,” he said to the driver and the taxi drove away from the hotel taking Stephen to the campus of University College Cork, barely a three-minute drive from the hotel. Stephen carried only his briefcase as he walked across the campus, passing the bright green grass of the quadrangle, and the administration building with its haunting corridor of silent Ogham stones. He shivered slightly as he passed by and then hurriedly walked onward to the biological sciences building. Inside the front entrance of the new glass and gray stone building he read the directory. It listed Dan’s office location but there was no indication where his lab was. He decided to walk to Dan’s office; maybe someone in the area would help him.
He was in luck. “Excuse me,” he said as he entered the anteroom outside Dan’s office. There were two well-dressed men, in black business suits, waiting there too. From the cut of their clothes he knew that they had to be Americans. “I’m looking for Dr. Quinn, gentlemen. Do you happen to know if he is in?”
The men looked at each other for a split second but their faces showed no expression. The nearer one said, “We’re waiting to talk with him too, but we haven’t seen him today. We thought we would just sort of wait around for a while and see if he comes in.”
“I see,” Stephen said, looking more carefully at the men. They didn’t look like university professors. They were too well dressed. “And how is it that you know Dan, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Oh, well we haven’t actually met. Not yet anyway. I’m John Church, from Omega Pharmaceuticals and this is my partner Tom. We’re just here to talk with him about some private business.”
“I see.”
“And you?” John asked, “Are you a friend of Dan’s or maybe a business associate? Maybe you know where we could find him.”
“Oh, just a friend,” Stephen said. “Dan and I go way back. We even went to school together. Yes. We are friends, very good friends, but I’m sorry to say that I don’t know where he is right now.”
Stephen and the men continued their conversation for another fifteen minutes until John looked at his watch. “Look, he said. It’s almost noon. I doubt if he’s coming now. Why don’t we all go and get some lunch?”
Stephen agreed immediately, suddenly realizing that he was very hungry after his long trip. A few minutes later they were in the Glucksman Café, on the lower campus, and each had ordered a full meal. Stephen asked for a bottle of wine as well and soon the men were having a boisterous conversation. Perhaps it was the wine. Stephen had never had much success in maintaining good judgment after even a single drink of any alcoholic beverage. He decided to have some fun with the men and began with several barbed remarks about the obscene profits the drug companies were making. He was surprised that they were unable to counter his taunts. These two young Americans obviously didn’t understand the big corporate picture as well as he did. Neophytes, he said to himself. It was after his third glass of wine, when the alcohol had robbed him of almost all of his common sense, that he decided to toy with them a bit more.
“Have you heard about the deadly disease outbreak in Asia?” he whispered conspiratorially.
“Of course,” John said, glancing sideways at Tom. “Why?"
“I know how to stop it!” They both looked very surprised. “Yes!” he said noticing their looks of disbelief. “There’s a way,” he said as he slurped his drink very slightly. “There is a very good way, but it’s a secret.” The two men looked at each other without any expression, except, perhaps, in their eyes.
“A secret? What do you mean?” Tom said softly as he leaned forward. John looked intently at Stephen and squinted his eyes slightly, but Stephen didn’t seem to notice the change of demeanor in the men.
He blinked at them and then smiled. “Oh no. No, no, no. Can’t tell you.” He looked around to see if anyone was listening, then turned back to the men. “Like I said; it’s a secret.” He smiled triumphantly, pronouncing “secret” as “shecret”.
“I see, of course,” John said, “We understand.” He looked over and nodded to Tom, and Tom nodded the slightest of nods in return. Stephen benignly smiled at them.
“Are you feeling OK?” Tom asked, suddenly looking concerned. “Maybe you would like a ride back to your hotel so you could rest? I think you may have enjoyed just a little too much wine.”
Stephen looked at each of them for several seconds, trying to study their faces. Yes, he finally said to himself, they’re young and inexperienced, but they’re like me. I know our type very well. They’re trustworthy men. There won’t be any harm in accepting a lift.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said at last. “Maybe a short nap is exactly what I need. I do seem to have drunk a little too much wine. I am so sorry. Could you perhaps give me a ride to Jurys Hotel? I would most appreciate it. It’s just down the street. My things are already at the hotel, all my…materials. I’ll just catch Dan later.”
“Certainly,” John said, “Come on, let’s walk over to our car. It’s only across the street.” They walked from the Glucksman over to the shiny black Mercedes, and Stephen climbed into the back seat. Tom got into the driver’s seat and they were soon driving along the Western Road towards the outskirts of the city while Stephen soon fell asleep in the back seat. Tom only slowed the car fifteen minutes later when they turned into the entrance of the Farran Forest Park. He drove past the few cars that were parked near the entrance and then went on to the far parking area, an area now devoid of other cars. Minutes later they were helping Stephen walk into the woods towards a secluded bank of the River Lee.
“Where are we?” Stephen asked looking around, completely puzzled. “This isn’t Jurys!”
“No, it’s not,” John said. “We need some information from you first and we thought perhaps we should talk in a more private location.” Stephen looked around but all he could see were the forest trees in front of him while behind him he could hear the murmuring of the slow moving waters of the Lee. Suddenly he realized that he could be in danger – grave danger.
“What do you want?” he said, now unable to stop his lower lip from quivering.
“There’s no need to be alarmed,” John said, “Just tell us what you know about that disease in Asia.”
“I only know what I read in the papers,” he replied as he looked rapidly from side to side. All he could see was the tall trees and dense underbrush of the forest. There was no one around to help him.
“Really? That’s not what you said earlier,” John said with a smile.
Stephen tried to remember what he might have said but he couldn’t. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I don’t know anything!”
“There is a cure, isn’t there?”
“What? A cure for the disease? How should I know? There’s no cure!” Suddenly, Stephen turned and began to run down the tree-lined dirt trail towards the parking area. However, he had only gone four or five paces when he felt the iron grip of Tom’s hands on his arm. He stopped instantly
and a moment later John walked up to him and grinned.
“I see, perhaps I was mistaken,” John said. “Let’s take a walk over to the water for a bit. Maybe the fresh air will clear your mind.” They held his arms tightly and led him to the water’s edge. Then John spoke again in a very calm voice. “I suppose, Stephen, that I may have made a mistake. So tell me, if there is no cure for the disease, what then is your secret?”
“Secret? I don’t have any secret. What are you talking about?” Stephen said, sensing that his bluff was finally working. John stared at him for a second or two and then, in a split second, he grabbed Stephen by the throat and dragged him into the waters of the river. He immediately pushed him under the water, ignoring Stephen’s pleading protestations, while Tom pinioned his arms behind his back. John counted slowly to twenty and then pulled him up. Stephen was coughing and gagging as he came out of the water.
“Perhaps you remember now,” he suggested with a smile.
“No, you don’t understand, I…” Stephen was unable to finish the sentence as both men pushed him below the water again and this time John counted to thirty. The interrogation continued with John counting to higher and higher numbers each time Stephen was submerged but Stephen gave them nothing that they wanted. It was only when John was convinced that Stephen would rather drown than reveal what he knew that he decided to change tactics and he took out a large, serrated, folding knife from his coat pocket…
Witnesses later told the Gardai investigators that they had seen two young American-looking men in black suits helping a drunken Japanese businessman walk towards the banks of the River Lee in the park. However, no one had seen exactly what happened after the men had entered the woods near the river. Two weeks later a gruesomely tortured body had washed over the Lee Fields Weir and become entangled in the water plants that grew mid-river. However, the body could not be identified because of the extensive injuries the man had suffered including the loss of all his fingers…
The Viral Epiphany Page 11