by Harlan Coben
So what was the explanation?
Simple. The person who killed Martino was not the same person wh o a ttacked Dr. Riker.
Well, if Winston O'Connor did not kill Martino, who did?
The Gay Slasher.
Then why didn't the Slasher stab him like the others?
Hmmm. Good question.
Like that one, Max? I got a million more for you. Is the person wh o h ired the Gay Slasher targeting the cured patients like Trian , Whitherson, and Martino? Or is he (or she let's not be sexist) after th e s ecret patients like Jenkins and Michael? Or both? And what about th e o rder of the deaths of the cured patients the three early patients dead , the three later patients alive? Is there any significance in that or i s i t just a faulty wire in the brain that keeps bringing you back to tha t s eemingly irrelevant point?
And the bigger question, which Max doodled on the top of his des k r epeatedly: Who benefits from the murders?
Good question. Crucial.
The phone on his desk rang. Max dropped the doughnuts onto the floor.
He reached for the receiver without bothering to pick them up.
"Bernstein here."
"Good," Sergeant Willie Monticelli said, "you're still there.
You ain't gonna believe this." The tone of Willie's voice told Max tha t t his was no routine call.
"Where are you?"
"Downstairs. I got a police station in Bangkok on the phone.
A guy named Colonel something. I can't pronounce it."
Bangkok! Max sat down.
"What does he want?"
"I still have him on the line, Twitch. I want you to hear this fo r y ourself."
"What is it?"
"I'd rather let him tell you himself."
"Patch him through."
"Just hold on. Damn, which button do I push?"
"The yellow one."
"Oh, right. Here goes."
Click. Static. Then: "Hello."
"Hello, Colonel," Max said, speaking slowly.
"My name is Lieutenant Max Bernstein. I am with the New York Polic e d epartment. With whom am I speaking?"
"Colonel Thaakavechikan. Bangkok Special Forces."
"Colonel Thaka-"
"Colonel will suffice, Lieutenant. I went to school in California so I k now that Thai names are difficult for Americans."
"Thank you, Colonel. You have some information for us?"
"I believe so. I understand that you are in charge of the Gay Slashe r h omicides and the disappearance of Michael Silverman."
"Yes."
"Well, something has come to our attention which might be of interest t o y ou. Have you ever heard of George Camron?"
"No."
"He is a professional hit man who lives in Bangkok, though he travel s f requently. He is quite good and very deadly. We estimate that he ha s k illed over two hundred people in the past decade."
"Jesus."
"When Camron is in Bangkok, he works out of a bar called the Eage r b eaver on Patpong Street. He has been seen there quite frequently i n r ecent days."
"Just recent days?"
"Yes. According to our sources, George Camron arrived in Bangkok withi n t he week."
"Interesting," Max remarked.
"It gets more interesting, Lieutenant Bernstein."
"How so?"
"I have an American named Frank Reed sitting beside me.
Mr. Reed is a patron of the Eager Beaver Bar."
"Oh?"
"Let me preface this by mentioning that Mr. Reed admits to being drun k a t the time he was in the bar."
"Go on."
"It seems that Mr. Reed was engaging in sexual activities with a p rostitute in the upstairs section of the Eager Beaver. He accidentall y o pened the wrong door and saw a man chained at the ankle." "I see," Ma x s aid. His fingers plucked at his hair and mustache.
"Isn't that fairly normal? Whips and chains at a whorehouse?"
"Oh, yes, quite normal," the colonel agreed.
"Mr. Reed, however, swears that the man he saw was Michael Silverman."
The words slammed into Max's solar plexus.
"What?"
"He claims Michael Silverman is being held captive at the Eager Beave r b ar."
"Have you checked out his story?"
"That might not be as easy as you might think," the colonel explained.
"George Camron is more than a dangerous hit man, Lieutenant Bernstein h e i s very clever and careful. If Michael Silverman is being held in th e e ager Beaver and it would not be the first time Camron has kept someon e t here it will be nearly impossible to get him out. Camron probably ha s t he place wired with explosives and if he gets even slightly suspicious , he will blow the place up."
"Can't you take him out by surprise?"
"It is too risky, Lieutenant Bernstein. If we failed to kill Camro n i mmediately or if he is working with an accomplice, I assure you tha t m r. Silverman's life would be forfeited. Because Mr. Silverman i s s omething of an international celebrity, our government would frown upo n s uch actions. That is why I am calling you. I am not saying that th e p lace is definitely wired.
I am just giving you Camron's past history."
"I appreciate it. Willie, are you listening in?"
"Yeah, Twitch, I'm here."
"Get me booked on the next plane to Bangkok."
"Already did it. I have you booked on Japan Airlines flight 006 whic h l eaves Kennedy in about two hours. You connect in Tokyo with JAL flight 491 that'll bring you into Bangkok in the evening. Problem is, I don't t hink the department will pay for it."
""I'll worry about that when I get back. Colonel, do you mind my comin g o ver?"
"Not at all, Lieutenant, as long as you understand that we are in charg e o f the situation."
"Understood."
"Then we have no problem. In the meantime we will do our best to monito r t he Eager Beaver as inconspicuously as possible."
Max rifled through his drawers until he found his passport underneath a j ar of mayonnaise. He wiped it clean with an old napkin.
"Then I'm on my way."
They were all seated in the study.
John Lowell sat behind his large oak desk with Senator Jenkins on hi s r ight and a few feet behind him. Facing them on the other side of th e d esk were Sara and Cassandra. For a moment they all just studied on e a nother. Then Sara broke the silence: "Is Michael still alive?"
John glanced at the senator and then back toward his daughter.
"We don't know, honey."
"But you know something about his kidnapping?"
"We may know something about it," Senator Jenkins corrected.
"We can't say for sure."
Sara shook her head.
"Dad, what's going on?"
"I'm not sure where to begin actually." Dr. John Lowell rose and move d t oward a bookshelf filled with large medical volumes.
His eyes passed over the titles, but they read nothing.
"You know how I feel about the Cancer Center, don't you?"
"Of course we do," Sara replied, "but what does that have to do with "
"Everything, Sara," John said simply. He pulled out a book, glanced a t t he binding, and put it back in the shelf.
"You see, focus can be a dangerous thing. Your view of the worl d n arrows.
You grow obsessed. Blinded. You see everything in terms of you r o bsession and nothing else. You cannot accept defeat. You canno t u nderstand why everyone else does not share your passion. Don't get m e w rong. Concentration and focus are good and necessary.
But when they slide unchecked, they can distort your perspective.
In the ultimate pursuit of knowledge, you can easily become ignorant."
Sara and Cassandra shared a confused glance.
"I still don't understand." John smiled sadly.
"You will. This is not easy for me to say, so just give me a littl e t ime. I'll get to the heart of the matter eventually."
The sisters nodded.
"I wanted that new wing at the Cancer Center so badly I ache d p hysically," he continued.
"It could help so many people people suffering the worst medical curs e k nown to mankind. Diseases and plagues come and go, but cancer is a c onstant. I thought the new wing and the additional finances would be a g igantic step toward unlocking the secrets of cancer and, ultimately, t o c uring it. I would have done anything to get that new wing.
Anything." He paused here, letting his meaning sink into the stil l s urroundings.
"When the additional finances for the new wing were rejected, it wa s l ike a spear through my heart. Those damn fools, I raged. How could the y b e so stupid? I tried to save the idea. I threw all the money I coul d i nto it, and tried to raise more privately. But it was not enough. We h ad needed the grant, and now that was gone. The new wing was dead. An d w hy? Where had the money gone? To AIDS. To Harvey and Bruce's clinic. To a gay disease. To a drug addict's disease. To a disease I still believ e w ill never run rampant in the normal heterosexual community."
Sara opened her mouth, but John stopped her by raising his hand.
"I don't want to argue with you, Sara. I know you feel differently.
Suffice to say that this is how I see it. Yes, some no n i ntravenous-drug-abusing heterosexuals have come down wit h a IDS, but the number is small, especially relative to the number o f p eople who die from cancer. This is how I see it right or wrong i t d oesn't matter anymore."
He caught Sara's eyes then. A small smile appeared on his face.
"You remember when we watched Damn Yankees on the video? Remember ho w t he guy sells his soul to the devil in order to get what he wants?
That's what I did. I didn't realize it at the time or maybe I did but I d idn't care. Who knows anymore? I only know that I signed on with th e d evil and there was no looking back."
"What did you do?" Sara asked, her tone distant.
"My rage consumed me. I started to look for any way, legal or not, t o g et the money away from the clinic and into the Cancer Center. Raymon d m arkey he's the Assistant Secretary "
"I know who he is," Sara interrupted. Her voice was cold.
"Go on."
John cleared his throat.
"Anyway, Dr. Markey contacted me.
He said that there were other people who felt the way I did, people wh o f elt too much emphasis was being placed on AIDS, people who wanted t o b ring down the Sidney Pavilion."
"What other people?"
John took a deep breath.
"Reverend Sanders, to name one."
Sara glared at her father.
"You signed on with that con man?"
"Listen to me, Sara. We both knew that we did not share the sam e i deology just the same enemy. Sanders had his reasons for wanting t o d estroy the clinic, and I had mine. His reasons did not matter to me.
The only important thing was getting the money for the new wing even i f t hat meant working with Sanders."
"And who else joined you?"
"Me," Senator Jenkins replied from behind John.
"I was the fourth member of the conspiracy."
She turned her glare toward his.
"And what was your reason, Senator?"
"A strange one," he replied in an oddly calm voice.
"Love."
"What?"
"Let me explain," Senator Jenkins began, his voice hollow as though h e w ere speaking through a long tube.
"I was readily accepted by Sanders because of my right-win g a ffiliations, but politics had nothing to do with why I joined."
"Then why?"
"Sara, you've covered political campaigns before, am I correct?"
"So?"
"So I don't have to tell you that politics is a strange game.
The strangest. Like it or not, a candidate must compromise to wi n e lections. I am the leading senator in the Republican Party.
I agree with most of the Party's platforms, but lets say, for example , that I came out against the death penalty. Do you know what woul d h appen?"
Sara folded her arms across her chest.
"Why don't you tell me?"
"I'd be finished. Wiped out. All my years of service would go right dow n t he drain. I wouldn't get elected dog-catcher. Let me give you a bette r e xample: our current President's position on abortion. He used to b e p ro-choice. Now, he has magically shifted to pro-life. Do you honestl y b elieve he had a change of heart? Of course not. He just accepte d r eality. He knew that if he ran as a pro-choice candidate, he would hav e n ever won the Republican nomination. And it's not just Republicans. Th e d emocrats do it too. Do you really believe that every liberal senator i s f or abortion or against tax cuts? Of course not. They are just trying t o g et elected. Like I said before, you have to compromise.
You have to compromise your very values and beliefs. It is no t n ecessarily the politician's fault. It's just the system. Play the gam e o r don't get elected."
"I don't see the point in any of this," Sara said.
"I am just saying that a man cannot be so neatly labeled as right o r l eft wing. At times we are all hypocrites. At times we all do thing s t hat others would consider sinful." He glanced at Cassandra quickly an d t hen continued.
"What I am trying to say is this: despite popular belief, I do not agre e w ith a good many of Reverend Sanders' views."
"Then why did you join him?"
"For my son," he replied.
"You joined up with Sanders for Bradley?"
The senator nodded. His eyes were moist, but his voice did not waver.
"I was just trying to save my boy. When I found out that Sanders wante d t o destroy an AIDS clinic, I figured that it must be making strides i n d iscovering a cure. So I contacted Sanders and told him I was intereste d i n enlisting in his "Holy Crusade' against the unnamed clinic. Sanders welcomed me aboard.
Truth was, I just wanted to find out more about it so I could enrol l b radley there."
"Which you did."
"Yes. Dr. Riker and Dr. Grey promised to keep it a secret." "So," Sar a s aid, "you joined this crazy conspiracy to help your son, my fathe r w anted to help the Cancer Center, and Reverend Sanders so he wouldn't h ave to explain a cure for "God's Plague' to his parishioners.
Does that cover it, gentlemen?"
Both men nodded.
"So where does Assistant Secretary Markey fit into all of this?"
"I can't say for sure," John began.
"Markey has known Harvey for a long time. He claims he doesn't trus t h im. He says Harvey cuts too many corners, but I think there's more t o i t than that.
I think Sanders is blackmailing him with something."
"And on top of that," Jenkins added, "Sanders' influence got Markey hi s j ob with the government and his office on the NIH campus. It's nice an d q uiet there. Markey likes it."
"A political payback?"
Her father cleared his throat.
"I guess you could say that, yes."
Sara felt her head spinning. She focused on the faces in front of her.
Her father and Senator Jenkins looked a mix of embarrassment, fear, an d a nxiety, like children waiting outside a principal's office. Cassandr a r emained silent, her eyes watching her sister with uncommon concern.
"Do you know what is so odd about all this?" John asked, his voice nea r a plea.
"I think Harvey Riker and Bruce Grey would understand what I did." Sar a c ontinued to glare.
"I doubt it."
"No, Sara, I think you're missing my point. Harvey and Bruce felt th e s ame way about their clinic as I feel about the Cance r c enter. But I let it get out of hand. I let it consume me. And I wa s l ied to. Sanders and Markey tricked me. They led me to believe tha t r iker and Grey were not even close to finding a cure."
Sara's voice was unforgiving.
"I think we've wasted enough time listening to your self-justification , Father. Just tell us what you
did."
Again John looked over to Stephen Jenkins before speaking.
Then he said, "Very little."
"Very little?" Sara shouted.
"You call the murder "
"We never killed anyone," John interrupted.
"At least, we never sanctioned any deaths."
Sara looked at him in disbelief.
"Am I hearing you right? You never 'sanctioned' any deaths? What th e h ell are you talking about? Patients were murdered. The senator's ow n s on was murdered. Are you trying to tell me that your little conspirac y h ad nothing to do with any of that?" "No," John said, "we are trying t o t ell you that we didn't know anything about it. We learned about th e m urders for the first time on Newsflash the other day."
"And you never knew about them beforehand?"
"That's right."
Sara shook her head.
"Then tell me, Senator, what did you make of Bradley's murder?"
"The same as everyone else," Jenkins said slowly.
"I thought Bradley was the random victim of some homophobic psychopath.
I had no idea that his murder was connected to the Sidney Pavilion unti l t he newscast."
John nodded his agreement.
"All we did was try to pressure the people in Washington to take bac k t he grant. We went so far as to falsify reports to make it look like th e s idney Pavilion was illegally usurping funds." Sara almost smiled.
"So while Raymond Markey accused Harvey of falsifying reports, you fou r w ere the ones who were really tampering with the evidence." "Yes," he r f ather said.
"In many ways the Newsflash report almost buried the clinic. By r evealing that Bradley was a patient at the clinic, you left Harvey wid e o pen to charges of purposely misrepresenting the facts.
Theoretically, Markey could have taken away the clinic's grant."
"So why didn't he?"
"Because we live in the real world, not a theoretical one. Can yo u i magine the outcry if Markey had tried to close the clinic after th e s how? The media would have had him for lunch. A full investigation woul d h ave ensued, and none of us wanted that." "So," Sara , "all of yo u d ecided to stall the clinic for a couple of years by using Michael as a g uinea pig."
"It was Sanders' plan," John corrected, "and frankly speaking, it was a d amn good one. Michael would be able to receive treatment, and the cur e w ould be delayed until Sanders could think of another way of destroyin g t hem."