Cook,Robin - Mortal Fear.txt

by Mortal Fear (lit)

he carried it into the study on a tray. Thus prepared, he opened the

  small book on recombinant DNA and settled in for the night.

  The first part of the book served as a review. Jason was well aware that

  deoxyribonucleic acid, better known as DNA, was a molecule, shaped like

  a twisted, double-stranded string. It was made up of repeating subunits

  called bases that had the property of pairing with each other in very

  specific ways. Particular areas of the DNA were called genes, and each

  gene was associated with the production of a specific protein.

  Jason felt encouraged as he took a sip of his wine. The book was well

  written and made the subject matter seem clear. He liked the little

  tidbits like the fact that each human cell had four billion base pairs.

  The next part of the book dealt with bacteria, and the fact that

  bacteria reproduce easily -and rapidly. Within days, trillions of

  identical cells could be made from a single initial cell. This was

  important, because in genetic engineering bacteria served as the

  recipient of small fragments of DNA.

  This "foreign" DNA was incorporated into the bacterium's own DNA, and

  then, as the cell divided, it manufactured the original fragments. The

  bacterium with the newly incorporated DNA was called a recombinant

  strain and the new DNA molecule was called recombinant DNA. So far so

  good.

  Jason ate some of his fish and salad and washed it -down with wine. The

  next chapter got a little more complicated. It talked about how the

  genes in the DNA molecule went about producing their respective

  proteins. The first part entailed making a copy of the segment of DNA

  with a molecule called messenger RNA. The messenger RNA then directed

  the production of the protein in a process called transcription. Jason

  drank a little more wine. The last part of the chapter got particularly

  interesting, since it explained the elaborate mechanisms that turned

  genes on and off.

  Getting up from his desk, Jason walked'across his living room into the

  kitchen. Opening the freezer, he poured himself another glass of wine.

  Back in his study he stared out the window, seeing the lights across the

  square in St. Margaret's Convent. It always amused him that there was a

  convent on the most desirable residential square in Boston: Give up the

  material world, become a nun, and move to Louisburg! Jason smiled, then

  looked back down at the recombinant DNA book. Sitting down again, he

  reread the section on the timing of gene expression. It was complicated

  and fascinating. Apparently, a host of proteins had been discovered that

  served as repressors of gene function. These proteins attached to the

  DNA or caused the DNA to coil, to cover up the involved genes.

  Jason closed the book. He'd had enough for one night. Besides, the

  section on the control of gene function was what he'd been unconsciously

  looking for. Reading that section brought back Hayes's comment that his

  main interest was "how genes turned on and how they turned off." Helene

  had said the same thing but in different words.

  Taking his wine, Jason wandered into his living room. Absently fondling

  the cut-glass sconces over the fireplace, he allowed his mind to

  consider the possibilities. What could Hayes have meant when he said

  he'd made a major scientific breakthrough? For the moment Jason

  dismissed the idea of Hayes having delusions of grandeur. After all, he

  was a world class researcher, and he was working prodigious 92

  hours. So there was a chance he'd been telling the truth. If he'd made a

  discovery, it would be in the area of turning genes on and off, and

  probably have to do with growth and development. The image of the photos

  of the genitals clouded Jason's mind for a moment.

  Jason was brought out of his reverie by the phone. It was the head nurse

  in the coronary care unit. "Brian Lennox just died. He had a terminal

  episode of V-tack that progressed to asystole."

  "I'll be right over," Jason said. He hung up and thought of the nurse's

  scientific jargon, recognizing that it was an emotional defense. Once

  again the shadow of death hung over him like a noxious cloud.

  The radio alarm blasted Jason out of bed. He'd turned up the volume for

  fear of oversleeping. He'd spent a good portion'of the night consoling

  Brian Lennox's wife. Retrieving his newspaper from the front steps, he

  shaved and showered while his Mr. Coffee performed its usual morning

  miracle. By the time he was dressed, the apartment was filled with the

  aromatic smell of the freshly brewed coffee. With mug in hand, he

  retreated to the den, slipping the Boston Globe out of its protective

  clear plastic sheath.

  Planning to turn directly to the sports section, he stopped at a

  front-page headline- DOCTOR, DRUGS AND DANCER. It was not a flattering

  article about Dr. Alvin Hayes. It played up Hayes's shocking death and

  unfairly associated it with the drugs found in his apartment, even

  likening his affair with the dancer to the case involving the Tufts

  Medical School professor who had been convicted of murdering a

  prostitute. Along with the article there were two photos: the Time cover

  shoot of Hayes and an- other of a woman entering the Club Cabaret,

  captioned, "Carol Donner entering her place of business." Jason tried to

  see what Carol Donner looked like, but it was impossible. She had one

  hand up, shielding her face. In the background was a sign that said,

  TOPLESS COLLEGE GIRLS. Sure, thought Jason with a smile.

  He read the rest of the article, feeling sorry for Shirley. The police

  reported that a significant amount of heroin and cocaine was found at

  the South End apartment that Hayes had shared with Carol Donner.

  Jason went to the hospital to find his inpatients generally in poor

  shape.

  Matthew Cowen, who had had a cardiac catheterization the day before, displayed odd symptoms alarmingly like the late Cedric Harring: arthritis,

  constipation, and dry skin. None of these would normally cause Jason

  much concern. But in view of recent events, they made him feel uneasy.

  They again brought up the specter of some new unknown infectious disease

  that he could -not control. He had the feeling Matthew's course was

  about to change for the worse.

  After ordering a dermatology consult for Cowen, Jason gloomily went down

  to his office, where Claudia greeted him with the information that she

  had pulled the executive physicals through the letter P. She had called

  the patients and discovered that only two complained of health problems.

  Jason reached for the charts and opened them.

  The first one was Holly Jennings, the other Paul Klingler. Both had had

  their physicals within a month. "Call them back," Jason said, "and ask

  both to come in as soon as they can without alarming them."

  "It's going to be hard not to upset them. What should I say?"

  "Tell them we want to repeat some test. Use your imagination."

  Later in the day he decided to see if he could charm some more

  information on Hayes out of his lab technician, but the moment he saw

  Helene she made it clear she was not about to be char
med.

  "Did the police find anything?" he asked, already knowing the answer was

  no. Shirley had called him and told him after the police had departed,

  saying, "Thank God for small favors."

  Helene shook her head.

  "I know you're busy," Jason said, "but do you think you could sparea

  minute? I'd like to ask a few more questions."

  She finally stopped working and turned toward him.

  "Thank you," he said, and smiled. Her expression didn't change. It

  wasn't unpleasant, just neutral.

  "I hate to belabor the subject," Jason said, "but I keep thinking of

  what Dr. Hayes said about a significant breakthrough. Are you sure you

  have no idea what it could be? It would be tragic if a real medical

  discovery were lost."

  "I told you what I know," Helene said. "I could show you the latest map

  he did of chromosome 17. Would that help?"

  "Let's give it a try."

  Helene led the way into Hayes's office. She ignored the photos that

  covered the walls, but Jason couldn't. He wondered what kind of man

  could work in such an environment. Helene produced a large sheet of

  paper covered with minute printing, giving the sequence of base pairs of

  the DNA molecule comprising a portion of chromosome 17. There was a

  staggering number of base pairs: hundreds and hundreds of thousands.

  "Dr. Hayes's area is here." She pointed to a large section where the

  pairs were done in red. "These are the genes associated with growth

  hormone. It's very complex."

  "You're right there, Jason said. He knew he'd have to do a lot more

  reading to make any sense of it all.

  "Is there any chance this mapping could have led to a major scientific

  breakthrough?"

  Helene thought for a moment, then shook her head. "The technique has

  been known for some time."

  "What about cancer?" Jason asked, giving the idea a shot. "Could Dr.

  Hayes have discovered something about cancer?"

  "We didn't work with cancer at all, Helene said.

  "But if he was interested in cell division and maturation, it's possible he could have discovered something about cancer.

  Especially with his interest in the switching on and off of genes."

  "I suppose it's possible," Helene said without enthusiasm.

  Jason was sure that Helene was not being as helpful as she could be. As

  Hayes's assistant, she should have had a better idea of what Hayes was

  doing. But there was no way he could force the issue.

  "What about his lab books?"

  Helene returned to her spot at the lab bench. Opening the second drawer

  at the table, she pulled out a ledger. "This is all I have," she said,

  and handed it to Jason.

  The book was three-quarters filled. Jason could see it was only a data

  book without experimental protocols, and without those, the data was

  meaningless.

  "Aren't there other lab books?"

  "There were some," Helene admitted, "but Dr. Hayes kept them with him,

  especially over the last three months. Mostly he kept everything in his

  head. He had a fabulous memory, especially for figures For a brief

  moment Jason saw a light in Helene's eyes and thought she might open up,

  but it didn't last.

  She trailed off into silence. She took the data book from Jason and

  replaced it in its drawer.

  "Let me ask one other question," Jason said, struggling over the

  wording.

  "As far as you could tell, did Dr. Hayes act normally over the last few

  weeks? He seemed anxious and overtired when I saw him." Jason

  deliberately understated Hayes's condition.

  "He seemed normal to me," said Helene flatly.

  Oh, brother, Jason thought. Now he was sure Helene wasn't being open

  with him. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it.

  Thanking her and excusing himself, he retreated from Hayes's lab. He

  descended in the elevator, avoided being seen by Sally, crossed to the

  main building, and rode up to pathology.

  He found Jackson Madsen in the chemistry lab, where there was a problem

  with one of the auto mated machines. Two company reps were there, and

  Jac , kson was happy to return to his office with Jason to show him the

  slides of Harring's heart.

  "Wait until you see this," he said as he positioned a slide under his

  microscope. He peered through the eyepiece, moving the slide deftly with

  his thumb and index finger. Then he stepped back and let Jason take a

  look.

  "See that vessel?" he asked. Jason nodded. "Notice the lumen is all but

  obliterated. It's some of the worst atherosclerosis I've seen. That pink

  stuff looks like amyloid. it's amazing, especially if you say his EKG

  was okay. And let me show you something else." Jackson substituted

  another slide. "Take a look now."

  Jason peered into the microscope. "What am I supposed to see?"

  "Notice how swollen the nuclei are," Jackson said. "And the pink stuff.

  That's amyloid for certain."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It's as if the guy's heart was under siege. Notice the inflammatory

  cells."

  Unaccustomed to looking at microscopic sections, Jason hadn't noticed

  them at first, but now they jumped out at him. "What do you make of it?"

  he asked.

  "I'm not sure. How old did you say this guy was?"

  "Fifty-six." J ' ason straightened up. "Is there any chance, in your

  estimation, that we are seeing some new infectious disease?"

  Jackson thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't think

  there's enough inflammation for that. It looks more metabolic, but

  that's all I can say. Oh, one more thing," he added, putting in another

  slide. While he focused he said: "This is part of the red nucleus in the

  brain. Tell me what you see." He leaned back for Jason. Jason peered

  into the scope. He saw a neuron. Within the neuron was a prominent

  nucleus as well as a darkly stained granular area. He described it to

  Jackson.

  "That's lipofuscin," said Jackson. He removed the slide.

  Jason straightened up. "What does it all mean?"

  "Wish I knew," said Jackson. "All nonspecific, but certainly a

  suggestion that your Mr. Harring was a sick cookie. These slides could

  have belonged to my grandfather."

  "That's the second time I've heard something like that," said Jason

  slowly. "Can't you give me anything more specific?"

  "I'm sorry," said Jackson. "I wish I could be more cooperative. I'll be

  running some tests to be sure these deposits in the heart and elsewhere

  are amyloid. I'll let you know."

  09 Thanks," said Jason. "What about the slides on Hayes?"

  "Not ready yet," said Jackson.

  Jason returned to the second floor and walked over to the outpatient

  area.

  As a doctor he'd always had questions about the efficacy of certain

  tests, procedures and drugs. But he had never had reason to question his

  general competence. In fact, in most situations he'd always thought of

  himself as well above average. Now, he wasn't so sure. Such misgivings

  were disturbing, especially because he'd been using work as his major

  sense of self since Danielle's death.

  "Where have you
been?" demanded Sally, catching up to Jason as he tried

  to slip into his office. Within minutes Sally had Jason buried beneath a

  host of minor problems that thankfully absorbed his attention. By the

  time he could catch his breath, it was just after twelve. He saw his

  last patient, who wanted advice and shots for a trip to India, and then

  he was free.

  Claudia tried to get him to join her and some other secretaries for

  lunch, but Jason declined. He retreated to his office and brooded. The

  worst part for Jason was the frustration. He felt something was terribly

  wrong, but he didn't know what it was or what to do about it. A

  loneliness descended over him.

  "Damn," said Jason, slapping the top of his desk with his open palm,

  hard enough to send unattached papers flying. He had to avoid slipping

  into a depression. He had to do something. Changing from his white coat

  to his jacket, he grabbed his beeper and descended to his car. He drove

  around the Fenway, passing the Gardner Museum and then the Museum of

  Fine Arts on his right. Then, heading south on Storrow Drive, he got off

  at Arlington..His destination was Boston Police Headquarters.

  At police headquarters a policeman directed Jason to the fifth floor. As

  soon as he got off the elevator, he saw the detective coming down the

  hall, balancing a full mug of coffee. Curran was jacketless, with the

  top button of his shirt open and his tie loosened. Under his left arm