Chromosome 6

by Robin Cook

  “Good lord!” Bertram moaned. All at once, the worry about Kevin vanished and was replaced with a more pressing problem. Turning off the computer, Bertram snapped up the printed island graphics, and ran out of the lab. Outside, he passed up his car to run directly across the square to the town hall. He knew it would take less time on foot.

  He raced up the stairs. As he entered the outer office, Aurielo looked up. Bertram ignored him. He burst into Siegfried’s office unannounced.

  “I’ve got to talk with you immediately,” Bertram sputtered to Siegfried. He was out of breath.

  Siegfried was meeting with his food-service supervisor. Both appeared stunned by Bertram’s arrival.

  “It’s an emergency,” Bertram added.

  The food-service supervisor stood up. “I can return later,” he said and left.

  “This better be important,” Siegfried warned.

  Bertram waved the computer printouts. “It’s very bad news,” he said. He took the chair vacated by the supervisor. “Kevin Marshall figured out a way to follow the bonobos over time.”

  “So what?” Siegfried said.

  “At least two of the bonobos don’t move,” Bertram said. “Number sixty and number sixty-seven. And they haven’t moved for more than twenty-four hours. There’s only one explanation. They’re dead!”

  Siegfried raised his eyebrows. “Well, they’re animals,” he said. “Animals die. We have to expect some attrition.”

  “You don’t understand,” Bertram said with a tinge of disdain. “You made light of my concern that the animals had split into two groups. I told you that it was significant. This, unfortunately, is proof. As sure as I’m standing here, those animals are killing each other!”

  “You think so?” Siegfried asked with alarm.

  “There’s no doubt in my mind,” Bertram said. “I’ve been agonizing over why they split up into two groups. I decided it had to have been because we forgot to maintain the balance between males and females. There’s no other explanation, and it means the males are fighting over the females. I’m sure of it.”

  “Oh my God!” Siegfried exclaimed, with a shake of his head. “That’s terrible news.”

  “It’s more than terrible,” Bertram said. “It’s intolerable. It will be the ruin of the whole program provided we don’t act.”

  “What can we do?” Siegfried asked.

  “First, we tell no one!” Bertram said. “If there is ever an order to harvest either sixty or sixty-seven, we’ll deal with that particular problem then. Second, and more important, we must bring the animals in like I’ve been advocating. The bonobos won’t be killing each other if they’re in separate cages.”

  Siegfried had to accept the white-haired veterinarian’s advice. Although he’d always favored the animals being off by themselves for logistical and security reasons, its time was past. The animals could not be allowed to kill each other. In a very real way, there was no choice.

  “When should we retrieve them?” Siegfried asked.

  “As soon as possible,” Bertram said. “I can have a team of security-cleared animal handlers ready by dawn tomorrow. We’ll begin by darting the splinter group. Once we have all the animals caged, which should take no more than two or three days, we’ll move them at night to a section of the animal center that I will prepare.”

  “I suppose I’d better recall that contingent of soldiers out by the bridge,” Siegfried said. “The last thing we need is for them to shoot the animal handlers.”

  “I didn’t like having them out there in the first place,” Bertram said. “I was afraid they might have shot one of the animals for sport or soup.”

  “When should we inform our respective bosses at GenSys?” Siegfried asked.

  “Not until it is done,” Bertram said. “Only then will we know how many animals have been killed. Maybe we’ll also have a better idea of the best ultimate disposition. My guess is we’ll have to build a separate, new facility.”

  “For that, we’d need authorization,” Siegfried said.

  “Obviously,” Bertram said. He stood up. “All I can say is that it is a damn good thing I had the foresight to move all those cages out there.”

  New York City

  Raymond felt better than he had in days. Things seemed to have gone well from the moment he’d gotten up. Just after nine he’d called Dr. Waller Anderson, and not only was the doctor going to join, he already had two clients ready to plunk down their deposits and head out to the Bahamas for the bone marrow aspirations.

  Then around noon Raymond had gotten a call from Dr. Alice Norwood, whose office was on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. She’d called to say that she’d recruited three physicians with large private practices who were eager to come on board. One was in Century City, another in Brentwood, and the last was in Bel-Air. She was convinced that these doctors would soon provide a flood of clients because the market on the West Coast for the service Raymond was offering was nothing short of phenomenal.

  But what had pleased Raymond the most during the day was whom he didn’t hear from. There were no calls from either Vinnie Dominick or Dr. Daniel Levitz. Raymond took this silence to mean that the Franconi business had finally been put to bed.

  At three-thirty, the door buzzer went off. Darlene answered it and with a tearful voice told Raymond that his car was waiting.

  Raymond took his girlfriend in his arms and patted her on the back. “Next time maybe you can go,” Raymond said consolingly.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “I can’t guarantee it,” Raymond said. “But we’ll try.” Raymond had no control over the GenSys flights. Darlene had been able to go on only one of the trips to Cogo. On all the other occasions, the plane had been full on one of the segments. As standard procedure, the plane flew from the States to Europe and then on to Bata. On the return trip the same general itinerary was followed, although it was always a different European city.

  After promising to call as soon as he arrived in Cogo, Raymond carried his bag downstairs. He climbed into the waiting sedan and luxuriously leaned back.

  “Would you like the radio on, sir?” the driver asked.

  “Sure, why not,” Raymond said. He was already beginning to enjoy himself.

  The drive across town was the most difficult part of the trip. Once they were on the West Side Highway, they were able to make good time. There was a lot of traffic, but since rush hour had not begun, the traffic moved fluidly. It was the same situation on the George Washington Bridge. In less than an hour Raymond was dropped off at Teterboro Airport.

  The GenSys plane had not yet arrived, but Raymond was not concerned. He positioned himself in the lounge, where he had a view of the runway and ordered himself a scotch. Just as he was being served, the sleek GenSys jet swooped in low out of the clouds and touched down. It taxied over to a position directly in front of Raymond.

  It was a beautiful aircraft painted white with a red stripe along its side. Its only markings were its call sign, N69SU, and a tiny American flag. Both were on the fin of the tail assembly.

  As if in slow motion, a forward door opened and self-contained steps extended down toward the tarmac. An impeccably dressed steward in dark-blue livery appeared in the doorway, descended the stairs and entered the general aviation building. His name was Roger Perry. Raymond remembered him well. Along with another steward named Jasper Devereau, he’d been on the plane every trip Raymond had made.

  Once inside the building, Roger scanned the lounge. The moment he spotted Raymond, he walked over and greeted him with a salute.

  “Is this the extent of your luggage, sir?” Roger asked as he picked up Raymond’s bag.

  “That’s it,” Raymond said. “Are we leaving already? Isn’t the plane going to refuel?” That had been the procedure on previous flights.

  “We’re all set,” Roger said.

  Raymond got to his feet and followed the steward out into the gray, raw March afternoon. As he approached the luxurious private je
t, Raymond hoped there were people watching him. At times like this, he felt as if he were living the life that was meant for him. He even told himself that he was lucky he’d lost his medical license.

  “Tell me, Roger,” Raymond called out just before they reached the stairs. “Are we full on the flight to Europe?” On every flight Raymond had been on, there’d been other GenSys executives.

  “Only one other passenger,” Roger said. He stepped to the side at the base of the stairs and gestured for Raymond to precede him.

  Raymond smiled as he climbed. With only one other passenger and two stewards, the flight was going to be even more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. The troubles that he’d had over the previous few days seemed a small price to pay for such luxury.

  Just inside the plane, he was met by Jasper. Jasper took his overcoat and jacket and asked if Raymond wanted a drink before takeoff.

  “I’ll wait,” Raymond said gallantly.

  Jasper pulled aside the drape that separated the galley from the cabin. Swelling with pride, Raymond passed into the main part of the plane. He was debating which of the deeply cushioned leather chairs to take when his eyes passed over the face of the other passenger. Raymond froze. At the same time, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut.

  “Hello, Dr. Lyons. Welcome aboard.”

  “Taylor Cabot!” Raymond croaked. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “I suppose not,” Taylor said. “I’m surprised to see myself.” He smiled and gestured toward the seat next to him.

  Raymond quickly sat down. He berated himself for not taking the drink Jasper had offered. His throat had gone bone-dry.

  “I’d been informed of the plane’s flight plan,” Taylor explained, “and since there was a window of opportunity in my schedule, I thought it wise for me to personally check on our Cogo operation. It was a last-minute decision. Of course, we’ll be making a stop in Zurich for me to have a short meeting with some bankers. I hope you won’t find that inconvenient.”

  Raymond shook his head. “No, not at all,” he stammered.

  “And how are things going with the bonobo project?” Taylor asked.

  “Very well,” Raymond managed. “We’re expecting a number of new clients. In fact, we’re having trouble keeping up with demand.”

  “And what about that regrettable episode with Carlo Franconi?” Taylor enquired. “I trust that has been successfully dealt with.”

  “Yes, of course,” Raymond sputtered. He tried to smile.

  “Part of the reason I’m making this trip is to be reassured that project is worth supporting,” Taylor said. “My chief financial officer assures me that it is now turning a small profit. But my operations officer has reservations about jeopardizing our primate research business. So, I have to make a decision. I hope you will be willing to help me.”

  “Certainly,” Raymond squeaked, as he heard the characteristic whine of the jet engines starting.

  It was like a party at the bar in the international departure lounge at JFK airport. Even Lou was there having a beer and popping peanuts into his mouth. He was in a great mood and acted as if he were going on the trip.

  Jack, Laurie, Warren, Natalie, and Esteban were sitting with Lou at a round table in the corner of the bar. Over their heads was a television tuned to a hockey game. The frantic voice of the announcer and the roar of the fans added to the general din.

  “It’s been a great day,” Lou yelled to Jack and Laurie. “We picked up Vido Delbario, and he’s singing to save his ass. I think we’ll be making a major dent in the Vaccarro organization.”

  “What about Angelo Facciolo and Franco Ponti?” Laurie asked.

  “That’s another story,” Lou said with a laugh. “For once the judge sided with us and set bail at two million each. What did the trick was the police impersonation charge.”

  “How about Spoletto Funeral Home?” Laurie asked.

  “That’s going to be a gold mine,” Lou said. “The owner is the brother of the wife of Vinnie Dominick. You remember him, don’t you, Laurie?”

  Laurie nodded. “How can I forget?”

  “Who’s Vinnie Dominick?” Jack asked.

  “He played a surprising role in the Cerino affair,” Laurie explained.

  “He’s with the competing Lucia organization,” Lou said. “They’ve been having a field day after Cerino’s fall. But my gut feeling tells me we’re going to puncture their balloon.”

  “What about the mole in the medical examiner’s office?” Laurie asked.

  “Hey, first things first,” Lou said. “We’ll get to that. Don’t worry.”

  “When you do, check out one of the techs by the name of Vinnie Amendola,” Laurie said.

  “Any particular reason?” Lou asked, as he wrote down the name in the small notebook he carried in the side pocket of his jacket.

  “Just a suspicion,” Laurie said.

  “Consider it done,” Lou said. “You know, this episode shows how fast things can change. Yesterday I was in the dog house, whereas today I’m the golden boy. I even got a call from the captain about a possible commendation. Can you believe it?”

  “You deserve it,” Laurie said.

  “Hey, if I get one, you guys should get one, too,” Lou said.

  Jack felt someone tap on his arm. It was the waitress. She asked if they wanted another round.

  “Hey, everybody?” Jack called out above the babble of voices. “More beer?”

  Jack looked first at Natalie who put her hand over her glass to indicate she was fine. She looked radiant in a dark purple jumpsuit. She was a third-grade teacher at a public school in Harlem, but didn’t look like any teacher Jack could remember. From Jack’s perspective her features were reminiscent of the Egyptian sculptures in the Metropolitan Museum that Laurie had dragged him in to see. Her eyes were almond-shaped and her lips were full and generous. Her hair was done up in the most elaborate corn-row style that Jack had ever seen. Natalie had said that it was her sister’s forte.

  When Jack looked at Warren to see whether he wanted more beer, he shook his head. Warren was sitting next to Natalie. He was wearing a sport jacket over a black T-shirt that somehow managed to hide his powerful physique. He looked happier than Jack had ever seen him. His mouth harbored a half smile instead of his normal expression of hard-lipped determination.

  “I’m fine,” Esteban called out. He, too, was smiling, even more broadly than Warren.

  Jack looked at Laurie. “No more for me. I want to save some room for wine with dinner on the plane.” Laurie had her auburn hair braided and was wearing a loose-fitting velour top with leggings. With her relaxed, ebullient demeanor and casual clothes Jack thought she looked like she was in college.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll have another beer,” Lou said.

  “One beer,” Jack told the waitress. “Then the check.”

  “How’d you guys make out today?” Lou asked Jack and Laurie.

  “We’re here,” Jack said. “That was the goal. Laurie and the others got the visas, and I got the tickets.” He patted his stomach. “I also got a bunch of French francs and a money belt. I was told that the French franc was the hard currency of choice for that part of Africa.”

  “What’s going to happen when you arrive?” Lou asked.

  Jack pointed over to Esteban. “Our expatriate traveling companion has taken care of the arrangements. His cousin’s meeting us at the airport, and his wife’s brother has a hotel.”

  “You should be fine,” Lou said. “What’s your plan?”

  “Esteban’s cousin has arranged for us to rent a van,” Jack said. “So we’ll drive to Cogo.”

  “And just drop in?” Lou asked.

  “That’s the idea,” Jack said.

  “Good luck,” Lou said.

  “Thanks,” Jack said. “We’ll probably need it.”

  A half hour later the group—minus Lou—merrily boarded the 747. They found their seats and stowed their carry-on baggage. No sooner had they gotten thems
elves situated than the huge plane lurched and was pulled from the gate.

  Later when the engines began to scream and the plane began its dash down the runway to takeoff, Laurie felt Jack take her hand. He gripped it fiercely.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Jack nodded. “I’ve just learned not to like air travel,” he said.

  Laurie understood.

  “We’re on our way,” Warren exclaimed gleefully. “Africa, here we come!”

  CHAPTER 19

  March 8, 1997

  2:00 A.M.

  Cogo, Equatorial Guinea

  “Are you asleep?” Candace whispered.

  “Are you kidding?” Melanie whispered back. “How am I supposed to sleep on rock with just a few branches strewn over it?”

  “I can’t sleep either,” Candace admitted. “Especially with all this snoring going on. What about Kevin?”

  “I’m awake,” Kevin said.

  They were in a small side cave jutting off the main chamber just behind the main entrance. The darkness was almost absolute. The only light came from meager moonlight reflected from outside.

  Kevin, Melanie, and Candace had been shuttled into this small cave immediately on their arrival. It measured about ten feet wide with a downward sloping ceiling that started at a maximum height roughly equivalent to Kevin’s five feet ten inches. There was no back wall to this cave; the chamber simply narrowed to a tunnel. Earlier in the evening, Kevin had explored the tunnel with the help of the flashlight in hopes of finding another way out, but the tunnel abruptly ended after about thirty feet.

  The bonobos had treated them well, even after the initially cold reception by the females. Apparently, the animals were mystified by the humans and intended to keep them alive and well. They’d provided them with muddy water in gourds and a variety of food. Unfortunately, the food was in the form of grubs, maggots, and other insects along with some kind of sedge from Lago Hippo.

  Later in the afternoon, the animals had started a fire at the cave’s entrance. Kevin was particularly interested in how they started it, but he’d been too far back to observe their method. A group of the bonobos had formed a tight circle, and then a half an hour later a fire was going.