Deutch made up his mind then. He nodded curtly and led the way out of the building into the soft April morning.
It was perhaps twenty minutes later when Natalie left the building. She had run a last check on her various safeguards and was confident that they would protect the apartment from anything less than full forceable entry. For her trip through the city she had dressed as nondescriptly as Harry, and had deliberately made herself even plainer than she was, choosing ill-fitting clothes in an unbecoming shade of mustard-yellow. Her hair was skinned back against her head and gathered into an unruly knot at the nape of her neck, which made her ears stick out, and she had painted her mouth a bright, ugly red that turned her complexion pasty under the freckles.
She waited a long time for a bus, much longer than she should have. When one finally arrived, she remarked on the lateness to the driver.
“It’s the flu,” he said, plainly harassed and fatigued. “We’re working on a reduced staff, lady. If you don’t like it, walk.”
She murmured something conciliatory, then made her way to a seat, alarmed at how few passengers were riding with her. The reason was soon obvious. During the short ride to the apartment block where Carol Mendosa lived, Natalie kept a sharp lookout for signs of trouble, and she found them everywhere. Stores, a few banks, one or two offices, she saw, had signs in the window:
CLOSED TEMPORARILY ON ACCOUNT OF ILLNESS
She knew that this was worse than it appeared. For every person staying home there were two at work, not quite sick enough to miss that one day’s pay, or that important appointment, or a chance to cash in on the competition’s misfortunes. And that meant the diseases were spreading, and spreading rapidly.
By the time she left the bus, she had a story all prepared to give Carol’s guard. So it was with the proper deference that she walked up to the man, saying, “Pardon me, officer,” in a still, meek voice. “Yes?” The man was older than Deutch, and, Natalie realized immediately, tougher.
“I’m Dr. Mendosa’s therapy assistant from Westbank?” She made it a question. “I don’t know if you were called... I have to talk to Dr. Mendosa.”
“Sorry.”
“But you don’t understand... Oh, dear, I knew I should have made sure you’d been phoned...” She gave him a bewildered smile, hating herself as she did. “But Mr. Clifford said that someone ... Dr. Justin’s assistant ...” She paused, hoping the names would sink in, then went on, still as if talking more to herself than the guard. “It’s such a bother, you’d think that Dr. Justin would make sure... And it is so important...”
“Dr. Justin sent you?” The officer cut into her monologue.
Natalie looked up, feigning confusion. “Dr. Justin? Dear me, no. His assistant, Mr. Clifford, told me that they need some information about a particular patient of Dr. Mendosa’s, you see.” She hoped he would not wonder why the hospital had not simply phoned Dr. Mendosa with the question.
“Maybe I’ll call this Dr. Justin,” the guard said, giving her the most of his overbearing presence.
“Oh, would you? It makes things so much easier, of course. I’m afraid to interrupt him myself, but I’m sure Mr. Clifford would...” She was sure that Mr. Clifford would have her arrested immediately if he knew what she was up to.
The guard smiled indulgently. “I guess you can go in. But don’t stay too long. This isn’t really within regulations.”
“Oh, I know,” Natalie said, letting one hand flutter nervously near her face. “When I think of all those doctors dismissed, and then this flu epidemic, well, I certainly wouldn’t want their consciences. I mean, when so many people in the city are sick, they’re at home doing nothing.”
The guard chuckled indulgently at her indignation and opened the door. “You tell Dr. Mendosa that.”
Natalie simpered at him and closed the door.
In a moment Carol Mendosa came in, puzzlement on her face quickly turning to surprise when she saw Natalie. “What on earth? How did you get here?” She dragged Natalie away from the hall. “What is it?” she asked when they were into the tiny living room. “You look furious.”
“I hate silly, stupid women,” Natalie whispered, her teeth tight. Carol waited for an explanation. “You know Mrs. Grossnecker?” Natalie asked, thinking of the fifty-year-old maiden librarian who watch-dogged the admissions records on the third floor of Westbank Hospital, a woman whose affected coyness must have been intolerable in her youth, and years ago had hardened into a travesty of girlishness.
“I know her. Ghastly old bitch.”
Natalie nodded. “I’ve been being her for your guard.” She sank into Carol’s sofa. “I’m a therapist here consulting you about a patient on Dick Clifford’s request, if you want to know the cover. The guard might ask you.”
Carol nodded, her large dark eyes molten. “What are you doing out?” she asked, tension making her voice thick.
“We’re getting our underground going, just the way we planned,” Natalie said, trying to be nonchalant and failing. “The wife of one of our guards is sick. Harry’s off seeing her now.”
“And?” She rose, her dark cloud of hair obscuring her face, but Natalie could see the force there. “And I’m out trying to reach our bunch. You’re the first. Now listen to me. There’s a chiropractor named Dagstern who’ll let us use his lab, so we can do some basic pathology. And Lisa’s got a cousin who runs a medical supply place. After you get out...”
“How am I supposed to do that, Nat? It’s a minor point, but...”
“Don’t be sarcastic, Carol,” Natalie said, feeling dangerously tired now that she was safe again. “I got out through the kitchen window.”
“Mine’s a four-story drop. No good.”
“What about a laundry chute? These buildings have them, don’t they?”
“Sure, but no one ever uses them.” Carol tugged open a small closed and shoved some boxes out of the way, revealing a smaller door. “This is it. I guess it goes to the basement laundries.”
“Can you fit in?” Natalie asked, rising. “It doesn’t look very big.”
“Oh, I can fit in it, all right. But how do I get back up, assuming I can get out at all?”
“Use a rope,” Natalie said, feeling decisive now. “Tie one end to the clothes bar there, and let the other end dangle down the chute. That’s simple enough.” She inspected the closet, saying little. “Is there an outside entrance to the laundry, do you know?”
Carol’s brows drew together. “I don’t know... Wait a minute. Yes there is. I remember now. It opens on the inner court.”
“Will that be a problem?”
Carol laughed. “Not around here. God, I want to get to work.” She turned away from the closet abruptly. “What’s it like out there?”
“Bad.” Natalie sat still now, thinking of what she had seen. “It’s getting worse fast, too.” Her fear returned, then she forced it down. “Do you have any coffee? I don’t have a lot of time and I have to see the others.”
Carol ducked into her small kitchen. “Tell me about this chiropractor,” she called as she put water into the pot.
“Dagstern,” Natalie said, wandering closer to the kitchen. “Harry found him. If you can get over there Thursday night...”
“Day after tomorrow?” Carol asked, surprised. “That soon.”
“We’ve got to get working now. The situation’s bad already, and it’s going to get worse fast. We’ll meet at Dagstern’s. We’ll work out something. It won’t be like Westbank, none of this neat business, like having Orthopedics, Paraplegics, Therapy and Stroke units all on the ninth floor, and Quarantine on eight. We’ll have to make do with what’s available.”
“What about the Van Dreyter house? Do you think we’re going to use that?” She came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “It’ll take a couple of minutes, Nat.”
“Good.” She glanced uneasily at the door. “What about your guard: Is he likely to give you trouble? Does he checkup on you unexpectedly?”
<
br /> “Sometimes,” she admitted, and her face darkened.
“Can you tell him you’re down with a mild case of the flu and make him believe it?” There was real anxiety in Natalie’s face now. “We’re going to need every advantage we can find. If the authorities, or whoever’s in charge of this mess, ever find out what we’re trying to do, they’ll stop us flat. We have to have these three days or we’re sunk.”
Carol nodded. “I’ll tell him I think I have a touch of it, and that I don’t want to be disturbed because I might be contagious.” She rubbed her hands on her white slacks. “I can make him believe me, if I have to.”
“Is it hard on you, Carol? Having the guards?”
A shadow crossed Carol’s face, part of the things she never talked about. “Not the way you mean. I sent my father to my brother in San Diego last week. I’m alone here.” The words were car fully chosen, and she looked away as she spoke. “I’m going to check the coffee.” She was gone, to reappear in a little while with a china cup filled with coffee. “You’d better appreciate this: it’s real.”
“The china or the coffee?” Natalie teased, and drank, wishing that she knew where Carol bought her food.
At that, another alarm sounded in her mind. Food. She looked up. “Carol. What kind of supplies do you have here? I mean, food supplies?”
“Oh, about enough to last me a week, why?”
“Because we’re going to have to think about food. There isn’t going to be more food coming into the city for a while, and we’d better be ready for that.”
Carol looked up, worry beginning to show on her face. “Christ,” she murmured, “I hadn’t thought of that. I should have.”
“Never mind,” Natalie said, relief making her calm. Now that she had thought of the problem, she knew that she could handle it. “I’ll take care of what I can now, and when we meet later on, we’ll work out the long-term problems. I’m glad you reminded me of it.” She drank down the last of the coffee, then handed the cup to Carol. “There’s still a chance, Carol. We can still make a difference.”
“How much of one?” Carol put the cup in the kitchen. “I’ll be there Thursday night, Nat. What time?”
“Eight-thirty? Make it eight-thirty. Dagstern is listed and the office is right on the 44C route, so you won’t have to transfer.” Natalie stopped at the door. “Oh, the buses are not running very much on schedule. Better allow some extra time.” She put on the irritating smile she had worn for the guard as she opened the door. “Thank you so much, Dr. Mendosa,” she said, raising her voice to an irritating note. “I know Mr. Clifford will appreciate this.”
Carol went along with her. “I’m glad I could be of help. The next time you have trouble, let me know, and there won’t be this sort of emergency.”
Natalie closed the door and gave the guard a simper. “Thank you so much, officer. It must be difficult for you, having this duty. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to have had this talk with Dr. Mendosa. She’s so helpful ... you wouldn’t think, would you, that she’s been dismissed ... Oh, dear. I know I shouldn’t have said that.” She started down the hall, saying as she went, “It’s so difficult having those doctors gone just now, what with the flu epidemic. When you consider what we have to do...”
It was easier getting to Lisa Skye, who worked at a children’s center where her daughter went after school. A few words to the principal and Natalie had fifteen uninterrupted minutes with Lisa, and came away feeling more satisfied, more confident than she had after her talk with Carol. She knew that Lisa would have no trouble getting to the meeting, because the principal had assured Natalie that the accusations against Lisa were ridiculous.
Dave’s apartment was unguarded, and Natalie was surprised to learn that he had bribed his guard several days before and had made a few exploratory trips through his district of the city already. He motioned her to a chair on his old-fashioned balcony as he told her.
Natalie looked at him narrowly. “Didn’t you have any trouble at all? Bribing guards can be tricky.”
“They don’t mind what I do as long as I stay away from the rest of you,” he said with a sudden grin. “Lovell didn’t care so long as I was in when he was relieved. It’s less work for him, really, having me gone. He can use the place with his girlfriend some afternoons, so he isn’t hard to bribe. And he stays bought. But the night guard, Park, he’s another matter. One of those superscrupulous Koreans. So I might have some trouble getting out for a night meeting, but I’ll be there. Maybe I can talk Lovell into trading duties with Park. I’ll tell him he can have the place for the night. Park’s usually griping about working nights. I think that’s why he’s so hard on me.”
“But Dave,” Natalie said, fighting down a qualm, “once you were out, you could have called one of us, or stopped to see us...”
“Sure, and have your guards report it? I’m not that kind of a fool. I’ve been checking up on the diseases, and it’s not good. But what would calling you do? I’m more use working than being in jail.”
“Well, of course,” Natalie said uncertainly. To her left, a pot of old geraniums struggled in the warmth. “It’s going to get worse with the summer,” she said, thinking of the city’s chronic summer water shortages and the oppressive heat which began in June. “June isn’t that far off.”
“What?”
She looked up, startled. “Never mind,” she said as she collected her thoughts. “I’ve got too much on my mind, I guess.”
“Thursday night, then,” Dave said, giving her a wide smile. “I’m glad we’re not still stuck at Westbank. It must be a madhouse there, with all these diseases breaking out. I hear they’re sticking to the flu story. They aren’t going to do that much longer, I’d bet.”
“Why do you think so?” Natalie asked, watching Dave carefully. She had always liked Dave Lillijanthal, as much for his easy charm as for his unruffled competence as a doctor, but she had never seen him away from the hospital, and now, seeing him here, listening to the nonchalant words, she felt some of her liking diminish.
“They’ll call this off before then,” he said. “You worry too much, Nat. Oh, this underground thing is a great idea. It’ll make sure there’s a backup when the hospitals get overcrowded. But you know as well as I do that the government isn’t dumb enough to keep this up for long. They’ll see it doesn’t work, and they’ll call it off. And then we’ll be called to testify, and after that we can write our own ticket anywhere we want.”
She wanted to ask him if that was why he wanted to be with them. But she kept the words back. “I hope you’re right,” was all she dared to say.
“Of course I’m right. About Thursday night. I’ll be there.”
Natalie gathered up her bag and jacket. “I’ve got to get to Jim Varnay and Radick Lescu yet,” she murmured. “And then I have some shopping to do.”
“You’ve seen all the others?”
“No,” she admitted, and wondered if she should tell him. “But some of them are helping me.” At the door she turned to him. “I wish you’d called us. We wouldn’t have lost so much time.”
He took her chin between his finger and thumb. “Poor Natalie. Always carrying the world around on your shoulders.” He gave her a peck on the cheek and closed the door.
“You look exhausted,” Radick Lescu told her when at last Natalie reached his small house. It was a tiny building, sandwiched in between two giant apartment houses and only allowed to exist because of an edict of the fire department.
“I am tired,” she admitted, and was grateful for the understanding in his eyes. Radick had always been a puzzle to her, for he was atypical for the psychiatrists she knew, an elegant man, cultured, genuinely interested in people, but occasionally she had caught him off guard and had seen naked pain in his face.
“How is it going, then?” he asked politely and settled back to listen. As Natalie told him, she admitted that Radick Lescu was very good at listening.
When she was finished, he nodded. “It so
unds good. But I agree with you about Lillijanthal—he will bear watching. He does not handle stress well, you know. That’s one of the reasons he cannot allow himself to think this situation serious.” He saw her face and went on, mild amusement lightening his voice. “I know you didn’t say that much about Dave, but you didn’t have to. It’s my job to hear the things that people don’t say.”
Relieved, Natalie returned his smile. “I didn’t want to say that, but I’m just as glad you picked it up. Thanks, Radick.”
He waved a dismissing hand, but said in another tone, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to call my sister. She and her family can use this house for the summer. Oh, I’m not kidding myself. I know they’ll be as vulnerable here as they are in their apartment. But here they can have some little privacy.” He picked up the phone.
“It might be bugged,” she warned him, hating the thought of any misfortune coming to Radick.
“Of course it’s bugged, my dear,” he said, smiling, a kindness in his eyes. “But I will be careful.” In a moment he spoke. “Marya, this is Radick. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it over the other evening... Yes, I’m fine, thank you... I was wondering if you might have an hour or so free? I’m getting very housebound, and I would appreciate your company... I’m sure the guards will let you in... All right. I’ll expect you, then. Thank you, love.” He turned to Natalie as he hung up. “She will be here soon. Would you like to stay and meet her? I think you’d enjoy one another.”
The warmth in his face surprised Natalie, and she felt a sudden desire to stay. It would be easy to cast off her fears for a while and have the pleasure of an afternoon with Radick and his sister. “I can’t, Radick. I’m truly sorry. If I didn’t have other things to do, I’d love to.”
He accepted this but asked, “What do you have to do now, Natalie? Where are you going?”
Bleakness washed over her. “Food shopping,” she said.
Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Time of the Fourth Horseman Page 11