"Not many secrets around here," Jason said a little sourly.
"Of course not," Jackson said. "Socially, the medical center is like a
small town. It thrives on gossip." Eyeing the brown paper bag, he added,
"You have something for me?"
"In a manner of speaking." Jason went on to explain what the specimens
were, and added that since it was going to take two weeks for the slides
to be processed at the city lab, he wondered if Jackson would mind
running them at the GHP lab.
"I'd be happy to," Jackson said, taking the bag. "By the way, are you
interested in hearing the results of the Harring case now?"
Jason swallowed. "Of course."
"Cardiac rupture. First case I've seen in years. Split open the left
ventricle. It appeared as if most of the heart had been involved in the
infarct, and when I sectioned the heart, I had the impression that all
of the coronary vessels were involved. That man had the worst coronary
heart disease I've seen in years."
So much for our wonderful predictive tests, Jason thought. He felt
defensive enough to explain to Jackson that he'd gone back and reviewed
Harring's record and still couldn't find any evidence of the impending
problem on an EKG taken less than a month before Harring's death.
"Maybe you'd better check your machines," Jackson said. "I'm telling
you, this man's heart was in bad shape. The microscopic sections should
be ready tomorrow if you're interested."
Leaving the pathology department, Jason considered Jackson's comment.
The idea of a defective EKG machine hadn't occurred to him. But by the
time he got to his office, he discarded the notion. There would be too
many ways to tell if the EKG machine wasn't functioning properly.
Besides, two different machines were used for the resting EKG and the
stress EKG. But in thinking about it, he remembered something. Like
Jason himself, on joining the GHP staff, Hayes would have been given a
complete physical. Everyone was.
After Claudia had given Jason his phone messages, he asked her to see if
Dr. Alvin Hayes had a patient chart, and if he did, to get it.
Meanwhile, he avoided Sally and headed up to radiology. With the help of
one of the department secretaries, he located Alvin Hayes's folder. As
he'd expected, it contained a routine chest X ray taken six months
previously. He looked at it briefly. Then, armed with the film, he
sought out one of the four staff radiologists. Milton Perlman, MD, was
emerging from the fluoroscopy room when Jason buttonholed him, described
Hayes's death and the results of the autopsy, and handed Milton the
chest film. Milton took the film back to his office, placed it on the
viewing box, and flipped on the light. He scanned the film for a full
minute before turning to Jason.
"There ain't no aneurysm here," he said. lie was from West Virginia and
liked to talk as if he'd left the farm the day before. "Aorta looks
normal, no calcification."
"Is that possible?" Jason asked.
"Must be." Milton checked the name and unit number on the film. "I guess
there's always a chance we could have mixed up the names, but I doubt
it.
If the man died of an aneurysm, then he developed it in the last month."
"I never heard of that happening."
"What can I say?" Milton extended his hands, palms up.
Jason returned to his office, mulling over the problem. An aneurysm
could balloon quickly, especially if the victim had a combination of
vessel disease and high blood pressure, but when he checked Hayes's
physical exam, his blood pressure and heart sounds were, as he
suspected, normal. With no signs of vascular disease, Jason realized
that there was little he could do at that point besides wait for the
microscopic sections. Maybe Hayes had contracted some strange infectious
disease that had attacked his blood vessels, including his aorta. For
the first time, Jason wondered if they were seeing the beginnings of a
new and terrible disease.
Changing his suit jacket for a white coat, Jason left his office,
practically bumping into Sally.
-"You're behind schedule!" she scolded.
"So what else is new?" Jason said, heading for exam room A.
By a combination of hard work and luck, Jason caught up to his schedule.
The luck involved not having any new patients that needed extensive
workups or old patients with new problems. By three there was even a
break. Someone had canceled.
The whole afternoon, Jason could not get the Hayes affair out of his
mind.
And with a little extr-a time on his hands, he headed up to the sixth
floor. That was where Dr. Alvin Hayes's lab was located. Jason thought
perhaps Hayes's assistant would have some idea if the big breakthrough
Hayes had mentioned had any basis in fact.
As soon as he stepped from the elevator, Jason felt as if he were in
another world. As part of Hayes's incentive to come to GHP, the GHP
board had built him a brand new lab which occupied a good portion of the
sixth floor.
The area near the elevator was furnished with comfortable leather
seating, deep pile carpets, and even a large glass-fronted bookcase
filled with current references in molecular biology. Beyond this
reception room was a clean room where visitors were expected to don long
white coats and protective coverings over their shoes. Jason tried the
door. It was open, so he entered.
Jason put on the coat and booties and tried the inner door. As he
expected, it was locked. Next to the door was a buzzer. He pushed it and
waited.
Above the lintel a small red light blinked on over a closedcircuit TV
camera. Then the door buzzed open and Jason entered.
1 83
The lab was divided into two main sections. The first section was
constructed of white Formica and white tile and included a large central
room with several offices on one side. With overhead fluorescent
lighting, the effect was dazzling. The room was filled with
sophisticated equipment, most of which Jason did not recognize. A locked
steel door separated the first section from the second. A sign next to
the door read: ANIMAL ROOM AND BACTERIAL INCUBATORS: NO ENTRY!
Sitting at one of the extensive lab benches in the first section was a
very blond woman Jason had seen on several occasions in the GHP
cafeteria. She had sharp features, a slightly aquiline nose, and her
hair was tightly pulled back into a French knot. Jason saw that her eyes
were red, as if she had been crying.
"Excuse me, I'm Dr. Jason Howard," he said, extending his hand. She took
it. Her skin was cool., "Helene Brennquivist," she said with a slight
Scandinavian accent.
"Do you have a moment?"
Helene didn't answer. Instead, she closed her notebook and pushed away a
stack of petri dishes.
"I'd like to ask a few questions," Jason continued. He saw that she had
an uncanny ability to maintain an absolutely neutral facial expression.
"This is, or was, Dr. Hayes's lab?" Jason asked, with a short wave of
his ha
nd to the su'r-roundings.
She nodded.
"And I presume you worked with Dr. Hayes?"
Another nod, less perceptible than the- first. Jason had the feeling
he'd already evoked a defensiveness in the woman.
"I'm assuming that you've heard the bad news about Dr. Hayes," Jason
said.
This time she blinked, and Jason thought he saw the glint of tears.
"I was with Dr. Hayes when he died," Jason explained, watching Helene
carefully. Except for the watery eyes, she seemed strangely devoid of
emotion, and Jason wondered if it was a form of grief. "Just before
Hayes died, he told me that he'd made a major scientific breakthrough
..."
Jason let his comment hang in the air, hoping for some appropriate
response. There was none. Helene merely stared back at him.
"Well, was there?" Jason said, leaning forward.
"I didn't know you were finished speaking," Helene said. "It wasn't a
question, you know."
"True,00 Jason admitted. "I was merely hoping you'd respond. I do hope
you know what Dr. Hayes meant."
"I'm afraid I don't. Other people in the administration have already
been up here asking me the same question. Unfortunately, I have no idea
what Dr. Hayes could have been referting to."
Jason imagined that Shirley had been to see Helene first thing that
morning.
"Are you the only person besides Dr. Hayes who works in this lab?"
"That's right," Helene said. "We had a secretary, but Dr. Hayes
dismissed her three months ago. He thought she talked too much."
"What was he afraid she'd talk about?"
"Anything and everything. Dr. Hayes was an intensely private person.
Especially about his work."
"so I'm learning," Jason said. His initial impression that Hayes had
become paranoid seemed to be substantiated. Yet Jason persisted: "What
exactly do you do, Miss. Brennquivist?"
"I'm a molecular biologist. Like Dr. Hayes, but nowhere near his
ability.
I use recombinant DNA techniques to alter E. coli bacteria to produce
various proteins that Dr. Hayes was interested in."
Jason nodded as if he understood. He'd heard the term "recombinant DNA,"
but had only the vaguest notion what it really meant. Since he'd been in
medical school there had been a virtual explosion of knowledge in the
field. But there was one thing he did remember, and that was a fear that
recombinant DNA studies might produce bacteria capable of causing new
and unknown diseases. With Hayes's sudden death in mind, he asked, "Had
you come up with any new and potentially dangerous strains?"
"No," Helene said without hesitation.
"How can you be so sure?"
"For two reasons. First of all, I did all the recombinant bacterial
work, not Dr. Hayes. Secondly, we use a strain of E. coli bacteria that
cannot grow outside of the laboratory."
"Oh," Jason said, nodding encouragingly.
"Dr. Hayes was interested in growth and development. He spent most of
his time isolating the growth factors from the hypothalamic-pituitary
axis responsible for puberty and sexual development. Growth factors are
proteins. I'm sure you know that."
4dof course," Jason said. What a curious woman, he thought. At first,
conversation had been like pulling teeth. Now that she was on scientific
ground, she was extremely vocal.
"Dr. Hayes would give me a protein and I'd set out to produce it by
recombinant DNA techniques. That's what I'm doing here." She turned to
the stacks of petri dishes, and, lifting one, removed the cover. She
extended it toward Jason. On the surface were whitish clumps of
bacterial colonies.
Helene replaced the dish on its appropriate stack. "Dr. Hayes was
fascinated by the on/off switching of genes, the balance between
repression and expression, and the role of repressor proteins and where
they bind to the DNA. He's used the growth hormone gene as the
prototype. Would you like to see his latest map of chromosome 17?"
"Sure," Jason said, forcing a smile.
A buzzer resounded in the lab, momentarily drowning out the low hum of
the electronic equipment. A screen in front of Helene flashed to life,
showing four people and a dog in the foyer. Jason recognized two of them
immediately-Shirley Montgomery and Detective Michael Curtan. The other
two were strangers.
"Oh, dear," Helene said, as she reached for the buzzer.
Jason stood as the new arrivals filed into the room. Shirley registered
a momentary flash of surprise when she saw Jason, but calmly introduced
Detective Curran to Helene. As he began to question her, Shirley took
Jason by the arm and steered him into the nearest office, which Jason
realized must have been Hayes's. Covering the walls were progressive
close-up photos of human genitalia going through the anatomical
evolution of puberty. They were all nicely framed in stainless steel
squares.
"Interesting decor," Jason commented wryly.
Shirley acted as if she didn't even see the photos. Her usually calm
face wore an expression of concern and irritation. "This affair is
getting out of hand."
"What do you mean?" Jason asked.
"Apparently last night the police got an anonymous tip that Dr. Alvin
Hayes dealt drugs. They searched his apartment and found a significant
amount of heroin, cocaine, and cash. Now they have a warrant to search
his lab."
"My God!" Jason suddenly understood the dog's presence.
"And as if that's not enough, they found out he's been living with a
woman by the name of Carol Donner.
"That name sounds familiar," Jason said.
"Well, it shouldn't be," Shirley said sternly. "Carol Donner is an
exotic dancer at the Club Cabaret in the Combat Zone."
"Well, I'll be damned." Jason chuckled.
"Jason!" Shirley snapped. "This is not a laughing matter."
"I'm not laughing," he protested. "I'm just astounded."
"If you think you're astounded, what's the board of directors going to
say?
And to think I insisted on hiring Hayes. The man's death alone was bad
enough. This is fast becoming a public relations nightmare."
"What are you going to do?" Jason asked.
"I haven't the slightest idea," Shirley admitted. "At the moment my
intuition tells me the less we do, the better."
"What are your thoughts about Hayes's supposed breakthrough?"
"I think the man was fantasizing," Shirley said. "I mean, he was
involved with drugs and an exotic dancer, for God's sake!"
Exasperated, she returned to the main part of the lab, where Detective
Curran was still talking intently with Helene. The other two men and the
dog were methodically searching the lab. Jason watched for a few
moments, then excused himself to finish office hours. He still had a
handful of outpatients to see as well as hospital rounds to do.
On the way home, even though he was more convinced than ever that Hayes
had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown, rather than a
breakthrough, Jason stopped at the library and took out a slim volume
titled Recombinant DNA:
An Introduction for the Nonscientist.
Rush hour traffic was the usual dog-eat-dog Boston rally, and when Jason
stepped on the emergency brake in his parking place in front of his
townhouse, he felt the usual relief that he'd survived unscathed. He
carried his briefcase up to his apartment, and put it on the desk in the
small study that looked out onto the square. The now leafless elms were
like skeletons against the night sky. Daylight Saving was already over,
and it was dark outside even though it was only six forty-five. Changing
into his jogging clothes, Jason ran down Mt. Vernon Street, crossed over
Storrow Drive on the Arthur Fiedler Bridge, and ran along the Charles.
He ran to the Boston University Bridge before turning. In contrast to
the summer, there were few joggers. On the way back he stopped at De
Luca's Market and picked up some fresh, local bluefish, makings for a
salad, and a cold bottle of California Chardonnay.
Jason liked to cook, and after taking his shower, he prepared the fish
by broiling it with a small amount of garlic and virgin olive oil. He
tossed the salad, then rescued the wine from the freezer where he'd put
it to give it an icy kick. He poured himself a glass. When all was ready
Cook,Robin - Mortal Fear.txt Page 7