Cook,Robin - Mortal Fear.txt

by Mortal Fear (lit)

  "It's all right. You'd think I'd have adjusted by now, but I guess I

  never will. I guess it was the reason Alvin and I got divorced-I

  couldn't deal with it."

  "Where exactly is Alvin Junior?" Jason asked, knowing he was probing a

  painful area.

  "At the Hartford School."

  "How is he doing?" Jason knew of the Hartford School. It was an

  institution acquired by GHP when the corporation purchased an associated

  acute-care proprietary hospital. Jason also knew the school was for

  sale. It was a money-loser for GHP.

  "Fine, I guess," Louise said. "I'm afraid I don't visit too often. It

  breaks my heart."

  101 understand," Jason said, wondering if this was the son Hayes had

  been referring to the night he died. "Would it be possible for us to

  call and inquire how the boy is doing?"

  "I suppose," Louise said, not reacting to the extraordinary nature of

  the question. She got stiffly to her feet and, with her daughter still

  clinging to her, went to the telephone and called the school. She asked

  for the pre-teen dormitory and, when they answered, talked for a while

  about her son's condition. When she hung up, she said, "They feel he's

  doing as well as can be expected. The only new problem is some

  arthritis, which has interfered with his physical therapy."

  "Has he been there long?"

  "Just since Alvin went to work for GHP. Being able to place Alvin Junior

  at Hartford was one of the reasons he accepted the job."

  "And your other son? You Say he's fine."

  "Couldn't be better," Louise said with obvious pride. "He's in the third

  grade and considered one of the brightest in the class."

  "That's wonderful," Jason said, trying to think back to the night Hayes

  died. Alvin had said that someone wanted him and his son dead. That it

  was too late for him but maybe not for his son. What on earth had he

  meant?

  Jason had assumed one of his sons had been physically sick, but

  apparently that was not the case.

  "More coffee?" Louise asked.

  "No, thank you," Jason said. "There's just one more thing I wanted to

  ask.

  At the time of his death, Alvin was involved in setting up a

  corporation.

  Your children were to be stockholders. Did you know anything at all

  about that?"

  "Not a thing."

  "Oh, well," Jason said. "Thanks for the coffee. if there's anything I

  can do for you in Boston, like look in on Alvin Junior, don't hesitate

  to call." He got up and the little girl buried her head inlouise's

  skirt.

  "I hope Alvin didn't suffer," she said.

  "No, he didn't," Jason lied. He could still remember the look of agony

  on Alvin's face.

  They were at the door when Louise suddenly said, "Oh, there's one thing

  I didn't tell you. A few days after Alvin died, someone broke in here.

  Luckily we were out."

  "Was anything taken?" Jason wondered if it could have been Gene, Inc.

  "No," Louise said. "They probably saw the usual mess and just moved on."

  She smiled. "But they seemed to have searched through everything. Even

  the children's bookcases."

  As Jason drove out of Leonia, New Jersey, and made his way back to the

  George Washington Bridge, he thought about his meeting with Louise

  Hayes.

  He should have been more discouraged than he was. After all, he'd

  learned nothing of importance to have justified the trip. But he

  realized there had been more to his wanting to go. He'd been genuinely

  curious about Hayes's wife. Having had his own wife rudely taken away

  from him, Jason couldn't understand why someone like Hayes would split

  up voluntarily. But Jason had never experienced the trauma of a retarded

  child.

  Jason was able to catch the two o'clock afternoon shuttle back to

  Boston.

  He tried to read on the plane, but couldn't concentrate. He began to

  worry that Carol wouldn't meet him at the Boston airport, or, worse yet,

  that she'd show up with Bruno.

  Unfortunately, the two o'clock shuttle that was supposed to land in

  Boston at two-forty didn't even leave La Guardia until two-thirty. By

  the time Jason got off the plane it was three-fifteen. He got his lug-

  gage from the locker and ran Erom the Eastern terminal over to United.

  There was a long line at the ticket window, and Jason couldn't imagine

  what the airline agents were doing to make each transaction so lengthy.

  It was now twenty to four and no sign of Carol Donner.

  At last it was Jason's turn. He tossed over his American Express card,

  asking for two round-trip tickets to Seattle for the flight leaving at

  four, with open returns.

  At least with Jason the agent was efficient. Within three minutes Jason

  had the tickets and boarding cards and was running for Gate 19. It was

  now five minutes to four. The flight was in the final stages of

  boarding. Arriving at Gate 19, Jason breathlessly asked if anyone had

  asked for him. When the girl at the desk said no, he quickly described

  Carol and asked if the agent had seen her.

  ".She's very attractive," he added.

  "I'm sure she is," smiled the agent. "Unfortunately, I haven't noticed

  her.

  But if you are planning to go to Seattle you'd better board."

  Jason watched the second hand sweep around the face of the wall clock

  behind the check-in counter. The agent was busy counting the tickets.

  Another agent made the final announcement for the departure to Simttle.

  It was two minutes before four.

  With his carry-on bag draped over his shoulder, Jason looked up the

  concourse toward the terminal proper. At the point he was about to give

  up all hope, he saw her. She was running in his direction. Jason should

  have been elated.

  The only problem was that a few steps behind her was the impressive hulk

  of Bruno. Farther down the hall was a policeman, lounging at the point

  where bags were picked up from the X-ray machine. Jason made a mental

  note: that would be his direction of flight if the need arose.

  With her own carry-on shoulder bag, Carol was having some difficulty

  running. Bruno made no attempt to assist her. Carol came directly up to

  Jason. Jason saw the expression on Bruno's broad face go from vexation

  to confusion to anger.

  "Did I make it?" she panted.

  The agent was now at the door to the jetway, kicking out the doorstop.

  "What the hell are you doing here, creep?" Bruno shouted, looking up at

  the destination sign. He turned accusingly on Carol. "You said you were

  going home, Carol."

  "Come on," Carol urged, grasping Jason's arm and pulling him toward the

  jetway.

  Jason stumbled backward, his eyes on Bruno's pudgy face, which had

  turned an unattractive shade of red. The veins in his temple swelled to

  the size of cigars.

  "Just a moment!" Carol called to the agent. The agent nodded and shouted

  something down the jetway. Jason watched Bruno until the very last

  second.

  He saw him lumber over to a bank -of telephones.

  "You people like to cut it close," the agent said
, ripping off a part of

  each boarding card. Jason finally turned to face ahead, at last

  convinced that Bruno had decided not to cause a scene. Carol was still

  pulling Jason's arm as they descended the jetway. They had to wait while

  the jetway operator pounded on the side of the plane to get the cabin

  attendant inside to reopen the already sealed aircraft. "This is about

  as close as you can make it," he said, frowning.

  Once they were seated, Carol apologized for being late. "I'm fin-ious,"

  she said, jamming her carry-on under the seat ahead of her. "I

  appreciate Arthur's concern for my well-being, but this is ridiculous."

  "Who's Arthur?"

  "He's my boss," Carol said disgustedly. "He told me if I left now he

  might actually fire me. I think I'll quit when we'get back."

  "Would you be able to do that?" Jason asked, wondering just what Carol's

  work involved besides dancing. It was his understanding that women like

  Carol lost control of their lives.

  "I was planning on stopping soon anyway," said Carol.

  The plane lurched as it was towed backward out of the gate.

  "You do know what kind of work I do?" Carol asked.

  "Well, sort of," Jason said vaguely.

  "You've never mentioned it," Carol said. "Most people bring it up."

  "I figured it was your business, Jason said. Who was he to judge?

  "You're a little strange , Carol said, "likable but strange."

  "I thought I was pretty normal," Jason said.

  "Ha!" Carol said playfully.

  There was a good bit of air traffic and they waited for over twenty

  minutes before they lifted off the ground and headed west.

  "I didn't think we were going to make it," Jason said, finally beginning

  to relax.

  " I , m sorry," Carol said again. "I tried to lose Bruno, but he stuck

  like glue. I didn't want him to know I wasn't heading back to Indiana.

  But what could I do?"

  "It doesn't matter," Jason said, although in the back of his mind it

  disturbed him that anyone but Shirley knew where he was going. He'd

  meant it to be a secret. At the same time he couldn't figure out how it

  would make any difference.

  , Taking notes on a yellow pad, Jason began quizzing Carol as to Hayes's

  schedule on each of his two trips to Seattle. The first visit was the

  more interesting. They'd stayed at the Mayfair Hotel and among other

  things had visited a club called the Totem, similar to the Cabaret in

  Boston. He asked her what it was like.

  "It was okay," Carol said, "nothing special. But it didn't have the

  excitement of the Club Cabaret. Seattle seems a bit conservative."

  Jason nodded, wondering why Hayes would waste his time at a place like

  that when he was traveling with Carol. "Did Alvin talk to anyone there?"

  he asked.

  "Yes. Arthur arranged for him to speak to the owner."

  "Your boss did? Did Alvin know your boss?"

  "They were friends. That was how I met Alvin."

  Jason recalled the rumors about Alvin's taste for discos and the like.

  Apparently they'd been true. But the idea of a world-famous molecular

  biologist being chummy with a man who managed a topless bar seemed

  ludicrous.

  "Do you know what Alvin spoke to this man about?"

  "No, I don't," Carol said. "They didn't talk very long. I was busy

  watching the dancers. They were quite good."

  "And you visited the University of Washington, correct?"

  "That's right. We did that the first day."

  "And you think you can find the man Alvin saw there?" Jason asked, just

  to be sure.

  "I think so. He was a tall, good-looking fellow."

  "And then what?"

  "We went up into the mountains."

  "And that was vacation time?"

  "I suppose."

  "Did Alvin meet anyone up there?"

  "No one in particular. But he talked to a lot of people."

  Jason settled back after the cocktail service. He thought about what

  Carol had told him, believing the most critical event was the visit to

  the University of Washington. But the visit to the club was also curious

  and deserved to be checked out.

  "One other thing," Carol said. "On the second trip we had to spend some

  time looking for dry ice."

  "Dry ice? What on earth for?"

  "I didn't know and Alvin didn't tell me. Alvin had a cooler and he

  wanted it full of dry ice."

  Perhaps to transport the specimen, Jason thought. This sounds promising.

  When they touched down in Seattle, they dutifully changed their watches

  to Pacific Coast time. Jason looked out the airplane window. True to

  expectations, it was raining. He could see the drops in the darkened

  pools of water on the runway. Soon, even the window was streaked with

  moisture.

  They rented a car and once they were clear of the airport traffic, Jason

  said, "In case it helps your memory, I thought we'd stay at the same

  hotel you did last time. Separate rooms, of course."

  Carol turned to eye him in the half-light of the car. Jason wanted it

  very clear this trip was all business.

  Two cars behind Jason and Carol was a dark blue Ford Taurus. Behind the

  wheel was a middle-aged man dressed in a turtleneck sweater, suede

  jacket, and checked slacks. He'd gotten a call only about five hours

  earlier to meet the United flight from Boston. He was supposed to spot a

  forty-five-year- old doctor who'd be arriving with a beautiful young

  woman. The names were Howard and Donner, and he was to keep them under

  surveillance. The operation had been easier than he'd expected. He'd

  confirmed their identity simply by coming up behind them at the Avis

  counter.

  Now all he had to do was keep them in sight. Supposedly he'd be

  contacted by somebody who'd be coming from Miami. For this he was being

  paid his usual fifty dollars an hour plus expenses. He wondered if it

  were some kind of domestic problem.

  The hotel was elegant. Judging from Hayes's usual disheveled appearance,

  Jason wouldn't have expected the man to have such expensive tastes. They

  got separate rooms, but Carol insisted they open the connecting door.

  "Let's not be prudish," she said. Jason didn't know how to take that.

  Since they'd barely touched the airplane food, Jason suggested they have

  dinner before heading out to the Totem Club. Carol changed, and as they

  entered the dining room, Jason was pleased at how young and lovely she

  looked. The maltre d' even checked her ID when Jason ordered a bottle of

  California chardonnay. The episode thrilled Carol, who complained of

  looking as if she were already over the hill at age twenty-five.

  By ten P. m., one o'clock East Coast time, they were ready to leave for

  the Totem Club. Jason was already beginning to feel sleepy, but Carol

  felt fine. To avoid difficulty, they left the rental car in the hotel

  parking lot and took a taxi. Carol admitted she had trouble finding the

  place with Hayes.

  The Totem Club was outside of the downtown area of Seattle, on the

  border of a pleasant residential neighborhood. There was none of the

  sordid color of the Boston Combat Zone. The club was surrounded by a

  large
asphalt parking area that wasn't even littered, and there were no

  street people panhandling. It looked like any restaurant or bar, except

  for several ersatz totem poles flanking the entrance. When Jason got out

  of the car, he could feel the beat of the rock music. They ran through

  the rain to the entrance.

  Inside, the club seemed much more conservative than the Cabaret. The

  first thing Jason noticed was that the crowd consisted mostly of couples

  rather than the heavy-drinking men who lined the runway in Boston. There

  was even a small dance floor. The' only real similarity was the

  configuration of the bar, which was Also U-shaped with a runway for the

  dancers in the center.

  "They don't dance topless here," Carol whispered.

  They were shown to a booth on the first level, away from the bar. There

  was another level behind them. A waitress placed a cardboard coaster in

  front of each and asked for their drink order.

  After they'd been served, Jason asked if Carol saw the owner. At first

  she didn't, but after a quarter hour she grasped Jason's arm and leaned