After all the outpatients had been seen, and Jason had dictated the
necessary correspondence, he headed up the main elevator to begin his
inpatient rounds. He saw Madaline Krammer first.
She was already looking better. An increased diuretic had reduced her
swollen feet and hands considerably, but when he went over her again he
was disturbed to find that her pupils seemed widely dilated and
unreactive to light. He made a note on her chart before continuing his
rounds.
Before he went in to see Matthew Cowen, Jason pulled his chart to see
what the ophthalmology consult -had said about his eyes. Shocked, Jason
read, "Mild cataract formation in both eyes. Check again in six months."
Jason couldn't believe what he was seeing. Cataracts at thirty-five? He
remembered the autopsy had noted cataracts in Connoly's eyes. He also
remembered just seeing Madaline Krammer's dilated pupils. What the hell
were they dealing with? He was further confused when he went down the
hall to see Matthew.
"Are you giving me any weird drugs?" he demanded as soon as he glimpsed
Jason.
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Because my hair is coming out." To make his point, he tugged on a few
strands, which indeed came right out. He scattered them on the pillow.
Jason picked one up, rolling it slowly between his thumb and index
finger. it looked normal save for a grayness at the root.
Then he examined Matthew's scalp. It too was normal, with no
inflammation or soreness.
"How long has this been going on?" he asked, remembering Brian Lennox
with startling vividness, as well as Mrs. Harring's comment that her
husband's hair had started to fall out.
"It's gotten much worse today," Matthew said. "I don't mean to sound
paranoid, but everything seems to be happening to me."
"It's just coincidence," Jason said, trying to buoy his own confidence
as much as Matthew's. "I'll have the dermatologist take another look.
Maybe it's associated with your dry skin. Has that improved?"
"It's worse, if anything. I shouldn't have come into the hospital."
Jason tended to agree, especially since so many of his patients were
doing poorly. By the time he finished rounds, he was exhausted. He
almost forgot that some well-meaning friends had insisted he attend a
dinner party that night so they could fix him up with a cute
thirty-four-year-old lawyer named Penny Lambert. With an hour to kill,
Jason decided it wasn't worth going home. Instead, he pulled out the
Boston map he ~kept in his car and located Springfield Street, where
Hayes's apartment was located. It was off Washington Street. Thinking it
would be a good time to catch Carol Donner, he decided to drive directly
there. But that was easier said than done. Heading south, he found
himself caught in bumper-to-bumper traffic on Massachusetts Avenue. With
persistence, he reached Washington Street and turned left, then left
again at Springfield. He located Hayes's building, then found a parking
spot.
The neighborhood was a mixture of renovated and unrenovated buildings.
Hayes's was in the latter category. Graffiti was spray-painted on the
front steps. Jason entered the foyer and noted that several of the
mailboxes were broken and that the inner door was unlocked. In fact, the
lock had been broken sometime in the distant past and never replaced.
Hayes's apartment was on the third floor. Jason started up the poorly
lit steps. The smell was musty and damp.
The building was large, with single apartments on each floor. On three
Jason tripped over several Boston Globes still in their plastic covers.
There was no bell so Jason knocked. Hearing no response, he knocked
again, harder. The door squeaked open about an inch. Looking down, Jason
saw that the lock had recently been forced and that part of the doorjamb
was missing. Using his index finger, Jason gingerly pushed the door
open. It squeaked again as if in pain. "Hello," he called. There was no
answer. He stepped into the apartment. "Hello." There was no noise
except a running toilet. He closed the door behind him and started
across a dark hall toward a partially opened door.
Jason took one look and almost fled. The place had been trashed. The
living room, once decorated with attractive antiques and reproductions,
was a wreck. All the drawers in the desk and sideboard had been pulled
out and dumped. The sofa cushions had been slashed, and the contents of
a large bookcase were strewn about the floor.
Picking his way carefully through the mess, Jason peered into a small
bedroom, which was in the same condition as the living rx)om, then went
down the hall to what he assumed was the master bedroom. It too was a
wreck. Every drawer had been dumped, and the clothes in the walk-in
closet had been ripped from hangers and thrown on the floor. Picking
some up, he noted they were all men's clothes.
Suddenly the front door squeaked, sending a shiver down Jason's spine.
He let the clothes fall to the floor. He started to call out again,
hoping that it was Carol Donner, but for a moment he was too scared to
speak. He froze, his ears straining for sound. Maybe a draft had pushed
the door ... Then he heard a thud, like the sound of a shoe knocking
against a book or an overturned drawer. Someone was definitely in the
apartment, and Jason had the feeling whoever it was knew he was there.
Perspiration appeared on his forehead and ran down the side of his nose.
Detective Curran's warning that the drug world was dangerous flashed
through his mind. He wondered if there was a way to sneak out. Then he
realized he was at the end of a long hallway.
All at once a large figure filled the door-way. Even in the darkness
Jason could tell that it was carrying a gun.
Panic filled Jason as his heart raced. But still he did not move. A
second, smaller figure joined the first and together they stepped into
the room. Then they advanced toward Jason, inexorably, step by step. It
seemed like an eternity. Jason wanted to cry out or run.
The next instant Jason thought he'd died. There was a flash. But then he
realized it was not the gun, but a light bulb over his head. He was
still alive. Two uniformed policemen stood before him. Jason could have
hugged them in his relief.
"Am I glad to see you guys," Jason said.
"Turn around," the larger cop ordered, ignoring Jason's comment.
"I can explain ..." Jason began, but he was told to shut up and put his
hands on the wall, his feet spread apart.
The second cop searched him, removing his wallet. When they were
satisfied Jason was unarmed, they pulled his arms off the wall and
handcuffed him.
Then they marched him back through the apartment, down the stairs, and
into the street. Some passersby stopped to watch as Jason was forced
into the back seat of an unmarked car.
The cops remained silent during the ride to the stationhouse, and Jason
decided there was no point trying to explain until they got there. Now
that he had calmed down, he began to think of
what he should do. He
guesscd he'd be able to make a phone call, and he wondered if he should
call Shirley or the lawyer he'd used when he'd sold his house and
practice.
But when they arrived, the cops just marched Jason to a small, bare room
and left him there. The door clicked when they went out and Jason
realized he was locked in. He'd never been in jail before and it did not
feel good.
As the minutes slipped by, Jason realized the gravity of the situation.
He remembered Shirley's request that he not stir the pot. God knows the
effect his arrest would have on the clinic if it became public.
Finally the door to the room opened and Detective Michael Curtan came
in, followed by the smaller policeman. Jason was glad to see Curran, but
he was immediately aware the detective did not reciprocate the emotion.
The lines on his face seemed deeper than ever.
"Uncuff him," Curran said without smiling. Jason stood up while the
uniformed policeman released his hands. He watched Curran's face, trying
to fathom his thoughts; but he remained impenetrable.
"I want to talk with him alone," he said to the policeman, who nodded
and left.
"Here's your goddamn wallet," Curtan said, slapping it into Jason's
palm.
"You don't take advice too well, do you? What do I have to do to
convince you this drug business is serious stuff?"
"I was only trying to talk with Carol Donner "Wonderful. So you butt in
and screw things up for us."
"Like what?" Jason asked, beginning to feel his temper rise.
"Vice has been staking out Hayes's apartment since we learned it had
been searched. We hoped to pull in someone a bit more interesting than
you."
I m sorr Y.
Curtan shook his head in frustration. "Well, it could have been worse.
You could have gotten yourself hurt. Please, doctor-would you get back
to your doctoring?"
"Am I free to go?" Jason asked with disbelief.
"Yeah," Curran said, turning to the door. "I'm not going to book you. No
sense wasting our time."
Jason left the police station and took a cab back to Springfield Street,
where he retrieved his car. He glanced up at Hayes's building and
shivered.
It had been an unnerving experience.
With enough adrenaline in his system now to run a four-minute mile,
Jason was glad he had plans for the evening. His friends the Alics had
invited a lively group of people, and the food and wine were really
good. The girl they wanted him to meet, Penny Lambert, struck him as a
bit of a yuppie, conservatively dressed in a blue suit with a voluminous
silk bow tie.
Luckily, she was cheerful and talkative and willingly filled the gap
left by Jason's inability to stop thinking about Hayes's apartment and
his need to speak to Carol Donner.
When coffee and brandy were cleared away, Jason had an idea. Maybe if he
offered to take Penny home, he could persuade her to stop at Carol's
club.
Obviously, Carol was no longer living at Hayes's apartment, and Jason
figured he might have a better chance talking to her if he were
accompanied by another woman. Penny happily accepted his offer of a
lift, and when they were in the car, he asked her if she were feeling
adventurous.
"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.
"I thought you might like to see another side of Boston."
"Like a disco?"
"Something like that," Jason said. In a mildly perverse way, Jason
thought the experience might be good for Penny. She was nice enough, but
a bit too predictable.
She relaxed, smiling and chatting until they pulled up in fi-ont of the
Club Cabaret. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked.
"Come on," Jason urged. He'd given her a little background enroute,
explaining that he wanted to see the girl Dr. Hayes had been involved
with.
Penny had remembered the story from the newspapers and it had not buoyed
her confidence, but with a bit more cajoling he persuaded her to let him
park and go in.
Friday was obviously a big night. Gripping Penny's hand, Jason worked
his way down the room, hoping to avoid the man with the dark glasses and
his two he-man bodyguards. With the help of a five-dollar bill he got
one of the waitresses to give them a booth against the side wall,
several steps up from the floor. They could see the runway while
remaining partially concealed from the dancers by the dark silhouettes
of men standing two deep at the bar.
They'd entered between numbers.'They had just ordered drinks when the
speakers roared to life. Jason's eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and
he could just make out Penny's face. What he could see best were the
whites of her eyes. She wasn't doing much blinking.
A stripper appeared in a swirl of diaphanous crepe. There were a few
catcalls. Penny remained silent. As he paid the waitress for their
drinks, Jason asked if Carol Donner was dancing that night. The waitress
said her first set was at eleven. Jason was relieved-at least she hadn't
been trashed along with Hayes's apartment.
When the waitress left he saw the dancer was down to her G-string and
that Penny's lips were tightly pursed.
"This is disgusting," she spat.
"It's not the Boston Symphony," Jason agreed.
"She even has cellulite."
Jason looked more carefully -when the dancer went back up the stairs.
Sure enough, the backs of her thighs were heavily dimpled. Jason smiled.
It was curious what a woman noticed.
"Are these men really enjoying themselves?" Penny asked with distaste.
"Good question. I don't know. Most of them look bored.7 But not one was
bored when Carol came out. Like the night before, the crowd came alive
when she began her routine.
"what do you think?" Jason asked.
04 She's a good dancer, but I can't believe your friend was involved
with her."
"That's exactly what I thought," Jason said. But now he wasn't so sure.
Carol Donner prujected a very different personality than he had
expected.
After Carol finished, and again did not appear among the patrons, Jason
had had enough. Penny was eager to leave, and Jason noticed she had
little to say on the way home. He guessed the Club Cabaret hadn't made a
great impression. When he left her at her door, he didn't even bother to
say he'd call. He knew the Alics would be disappointed, but he figured
they should have known better than to fix him up with a bow tie.
Back in his own apartment, Jason undressed and picked up the DNA book
from the den. He got into bed and started reading. Remembering his
exhaustion that afternoon, he thought he'd drop off to sleep quickly.
But that wasn't the case. He read about bacteriophages, the viral
particles that infected bacteria, and how they were used in genetic
engineering. Then he read a chapter on plasmids, which he'd never even
heard of before he'd started reading about DNA. He marveled that
plasmids were small circular DNA molecules that existed in bacteria and
reproduced faithfully when the bacteria reproduced. They, too, served an
enormously important function as vehicles for introducing segments of
DNA into bacteria.
Still wide awake, Jason looked at the time. It was after two A. m., and
sleep was out of the question. Getting up, he went into his living room
and stared out at Louisburg Square. A car pulled up. It was the tenant
who occupied the garden apartment in Jason's building. He, too, was a
doctor and although they were friendly, Jason knew little about the man
other than he dated a lot of beautiful women. Jason wondered where he
found them all.
True to form, the man emerged from his car with an attractive blonde and
amid soft laughter disappeared out of sight below. Jason heard the front
door to the building close. Silence returned. He could not get Carol
Donner out of his mind, wishing he could speak with her. Looking at the
clock on the mantel, Jason had an idea. Ouickly, he returned to the
bedroom, redressed, and went out to his car.
With some misgivings about the possible consequences, Jason drove back
to the Combat Zone. In contrast to the rest of the city, it was still
very much awake. He drove past the Club Cabaret once, then circled and
backed into a side street and parked. He switched off the motor. There
were some unsavory types lingering in doorways and on the side street
Cook,Robin - Mortal Fear.txt Page 11