Disappear (21 page)

The woman appeared genuinely pleased to see Roger. She shook his hand firmly and commented that she was aware of his successful career with his father’s company. Jennifer caught Roger’s wince at the words “his father’s company.”

Jennifer gave the doctor a run-down of the autopsy result. ‘I understand it’s rare for an operation to require entry via the jugular vein.’

‘That’s true,’ Katrina Wells confirmed, ‘unless all other relevant veins in the patient have collapsed. But, from what you tell me, Brian hadn’t had any operations and this - incision - was made after his death.’

‘Yes. The police can’t make anything of it.’

‘I’m not surprised. I don’t believe I’ve heard of anything like this before.’

‘The incision mark was surgically precise,’ Jennifer said, ‘which is the reason for our visit today. I wanted to get a broad medical overview. I guess I’m trying to get a handle on why such incisions are made generally, and the kind of doctors called to make them. Is there any other reason the jugular is opened in surgery?’

‘Yes. In a major operation a drip would be inserted into the jugular. It is after all, the most efficient artery for introducing substances to the body. Not that any of that is relevant to a cut made post mortem.’

‘I expect the police will investigate the possibility,’ Roger said, ‘that the person who inflicted the cut after Brian’s death might be a doctor.’

‘Doctors save lives,’ Katrina frowned, ‘they don’t take them.’

‘Who else would have surgical know-how like that?’ Jennifer questioned.

‘Could be an ex-medical student who didn’t make the grade, or even an enthusiast who’d taught himself. Stranger things have happened, but this really isn’t my field.’

‘I can’t help wondering, Doctor Wells-’ Jennifer began.

‘… Katrina.’

‘Katrina … If there’s some other purpose, for which doctors might make such incisions. If not for surgery for … well, I don’t know, something experimental perhaps?’

Katrina considered this for a moment. ‘There are, of course, new procedures being developed and experiments in surgical techniques. Nothing that I know of, in Australia, but once again it’s not my field and there could be something overseas. The person to answer questions on such things is Doctor Stephen Gleitzman, the senior consulting surgeon at the hospital. He also writes and lectures on the expanding medical frontier and has a particular interest in youth preservation and life extension practices.’

‘Youth preservation?’ Jennifer’s body stiffened and she exchanged glances with Roger. ‘What exactly does that mean?’

‘It’s a growing field - alternative lifestyle and medical beliefs. It’s been boosted by scientific breakthroughs overseas, in such fields as surgery, biogenetics, nutrients, exercise and diet plans. That sort of thing. There’s been a trend in the US for instance, for people who believe in prolonging life and preserving youth, to form into active groups.’

‘I believe I’ve read something about this,’ Roger said, ‘don’t these people call themselves immortalists or something like that.’

‘That would be one of the terms.’

‘This doesn’t sound like the kind of thing the medical world embraces,’ Jennifer observed.

‘You’d be surprised. In America over a dozen institutions are solely devoted to research and study on anti-ageing, and there are at least thirty journals that report on all aspects of age prevention and life extension.’

‘When’s the best time to get in touch with Doctor Gleitzman?’ Jennifer asked.

‘You’ve just missed him, I’m afraid. Left yesterday for a week in the US. Massachusetts. He’s attending an international surgeons conference. He’s back in seven days and then you could phone him here at the hospital - though I’m not sure what interest that will be to you, in light of your husband’s case.’

‘When I saw Brian’s body …’ Jennifer paused, choosing her words carefully, ‘his appearance was much more youthful than I would’ve expected.’

‘I see. Well … this certainly is an unusual one. Look, if you’d like some information in the meantime on these life extensionists - that’s the term I prefer - I’ll phone down to the hospital’s PR division. I’m sure they’d loan you a copy of Doctor Gleitzman’s book, and the DVD of one of his recent lectures on the subject.’

After picking up the book and the DVD, Jennifer and Roger went for a cappuccino in a small café further along the street.

‘You’re going to call this guy at his hotel in Massachusetts, aren’t you?’ Roger predicted.

‘You’re getting very good at reading my mind.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment. You were never that easy to read. Well?’

‘I think so. After I’ve viewed his DVD. I guess it depends on what I learn about all this living longer, looking younger stuff. I already feel as though it’s another dead end.’

‘It’s not like you to sound so defeated.’

‘I’m just tired. Really tired.’

‘There could be something in this, you know. It’s amazing what’s going on these days. Special skin creams, collagen injections, calcium injections - I just didn’t realise the extent of it.’

‘Neither did I. Nevertheless, these enthusiasts are still a minority, and not the kind of thing Brian was likely to get involved with.’

‘I wish I could watch that DVD with you but I’ve got this damned business dinner with the Canadians.’ He sipped on his cappuccino. ‘Once all this business with Southern Star and Becker is settled,’ Roger said, ‘I plan to get out of the company. Or what’s left of the company.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘No. It’s been at the back of my mind for a while. A long while, actually. Dad’s business is the only place I’ve ever worked. Always been the heir apparent. Except I’ve only ever been a puppet, going through the motions while the great Henry Kaplan made the real decisions.’

‘You don’t need to be so hard on yourself. For goodness sake, Roger, you’re the MD of Kaplan Australia.’

‘Hear me out. Fact is, I’ve never felt comfortable with it. I enjoyed the prestige and the lifestyle when I was younger but that wears off. I’ve never had the chance to try something different.’

‘This sounds like one of those mid life crises.’

‘Be fair, Jen. You’ve had the chance to run your own business your own way. You bought out Dad’s share years ago so you could be independent. You’re doing what you chose to do.’

‘What would you do if you went out on your own?’

‘I’m still thinking about that.’

Jennifer gave his hand an affectionate squeeze. ‘It’s my turn to offer my help,’ she said. ‘If I can help you with your decision, or if you just want to talk, anytime.’

They shared a smile. A brief, relaxed moment. But then their conversation returned to Brian, to the investigation, and the anxiety haunting Jennifer cast its shadow once more.

Daniel Furrow was a short, squat man with a shock of thick black hair and an unseemly swagger. He liked to be known as Danny The Pimp - he thought this sounded “classy” - but his girls referred to him, behind his back, as ‘Danny The Pig’s Ass.”

His girls did as he told them because they thought he was the big boss - but he wasn’t. Like them, Danny was an employee. He’d been hired to manage the three inner-city brothels and escort service because he was a bully without scruples - a vicious thug who, ultimately, was terrified of the man who pulled his strings.

Danny had an office behind the largest of the three joints and he was sizing up the pouty, busty redhead who’d been shown in by the brothel’s madam.

‘There are certain clients who have - shall we say - special needs,’ Danny told her. He stopped and cleared his throat, a loud and irritating habit to all who knew him. ‘You unnerstan’?’

‘What sorta needs?’ the redhead asked defiantly.

Danny sized her up, taking his time. ‘Arrogant little bitch, are we?’

‘Call it whatever you like.’

‘What’s your name, sweetie?’

‘Vonnie.’

‘Let me spell it out then, Vonnie.’ He emphasised the last word with a spitting sound. ‘We like to keep certain clients happy. Expect a few bruises, a fat lip, some very rough sex. You may have to do a bit o’ squealing and begging, for effect. Get the picture?’

‘I didn’t come here to put up with this crap.’

As she turned for the door Danny’s right hand shot out and grabbed her in a vice-like grip. ‘You’ll put up with whatever crap I say.’ He released his grip and she stared back at him, her face marked by loathing. Danny liked that. ‘If it wasn’t for us you’d be starting a nice, long term in the joint. But we got you off the hook. And we can just as easy lay the evidence on the cops and have you sent away for a long time.’

‘Bastard.’

‘That’s my middle name. You’ll be one of the girls that services our - deviants.’ Danny laughed out loud at this. ‘But don’t worry, we do have some rules. They aren’t allowed to cut you up or kill you. After all, we’re a classy operation.’

The redhead’s shoulders slumped in acceptance. ‘I suppose it’s as good a deal as any.’

‘Then let’s get started, eh? I’ve a client waiting for you across town right now. Two o’ my boys’ll drive you, and they’ll wait outside while you work.’ She was at the doorway when he called out. ‘Oh, and Vonnie?’

She looked back, glazed eyes, soul-less expression.

‘This fellow’s one o’ the nastiest. And he hasn’t had one o’ my girls over to see ‘im for a while.’

Afterwards, Vonnie Michaels cried. But only briefly. She snapped herself out of her self-pity and splashed cold water from the bathroom basin over her face.

Her bottom lip was cracked and swollen, her cheek bruised, her right eye puffy and turning purple.

When she’d arrived she’d hardly believed this urbane looking man could be so brutal.

Hans Falkstog was an athletic man with a commanding presence. Even in a relaxed state he exhibited an air of power and arrogance. ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ he had said. ‘Strip off. The bedroom’s through there.’ He took great pleasure exploiting their positions - customer and whore. He’d used those very terms during the sex.

Afterwards, as she emerged from the bathroom, a more composed Falkstog offered her a Scotch.

‘Why not?’ she said with a shrug. She took a long swig from the glass. ‘I hope I don’t run into anyone like you in a dark alley.’ This was her only form of comeback to characters like Falkstog, to hint at what the rest of the world thought of them.

He laughed. ‘Oh, I’m as safe as houses out there - in the alleys of the real world. Respectable. Because I get to act out my fantasies, well, most of them, on the likes of you.’

He laughed again and Vanessa shivered. She wondered how many creeps like Falkstog were clients of Danny The Pimp.

‘Another drink, Vonnie?’

‘No. I have to go.’

‘Of course. You’re a working girl.’

Heading back to Danny’s office, she kept hearing Falkstog’s words. ‘I’m as safe as houses out there … Respectable …’

A chill ran through her. How could these men with the souls of monsters pass for normal in the outside world?

The DVD wasn’t the best quality, having been filmed “live’ at a symposium. Doctor Stephen Gleitzman stood at a podium with a series of large, colourful charts behind him as visual aids. He would have been of fairly nondescript appearance if it hadn’t been for one of the cutest moustaches Jennifer had seen on a man.

Jennifer sank into the comfort of her favourite lounge chair, remote in hand, and watched.

‘The ageing process is not as cut and dried as many people believe,’ Gleitzman began, ‘you don’t have to look your age at forty or fifty. You don’t have to be old at sixty or even seventy. Medical researchers have known for years that there are a number of inter-acting processes at work in the ageing of our bodies. Today, I’m going to show you how to slow down and in some cases reverse that ageing process.

‘How can this be? I imagine you’re asking. Has this medical practitioner gone out of his mind?’ A ripple of laughter erupted from the audience. Gleitzman clearly fed on it. ‘Not at all! And I’ll prove it by taking you through the medical secrets of rejuvenating your skin, your bones, your heart and your mind. Armed with the right knowledge, and the right attitude, you can begin to start getting younger immediately.’

This man wasn’t just an enterprising doctor or a progressive thinker, Jennifer noted, he was also a super salesman. He went on to speak about the newly emerging science of longevity in life and youth preservation - and the growing number of people generally referred to as immortalists who pursued it.

This was a hybrid field - a mixture of genetics, biochemistry, cell biology, medically approved drugs, special diets and exercises. Gleitzman’s philosophy was broad. He had no qualms about combining the best strategies of alternative health practices with the latest advancements in mainstream medicine.

Gleitzman used a pointer to indicate the first chart. ‘I’m going to describe the nutrients and vitamins that help regenerate the cells of our bodies. There are two ways to absorb these. The first is in our diet, and the correct diet is an essential part of our youth preservation plan. Later, I will discuss the injection of these vitamins, along with hormones and specific amino acids, directly into the bloodstream …’

Jennifer paused the DVD for a moment and thought of the incision to Brian’s jugular. Could there be a connection even though the cut had been made after his death?

The following charts were for exercise, surgery and rejuvenating skin - the latter involving the use of vitamin based creams. Retin-A was the best known of these - it could rebuild the deep dermal layers of the skin. ‘The creams rejuvenate the cells, making the skin smoother and less wrinkled,’ Gleitzman said, showing before and after photographs of people who’d been applying the creams for several years. Jennifer admitted these people appeared to have maintained, and in some cases improved, the state of their skin. There was no evidence, however, that it could work to such an extent for a period of eighteen years.

Jennifer thought of the Brian Parkes she’d known. He’d hardly ever been to a doctor. He’d certainly never shown interest in alternative medicines - or alternative lifestyles of any kind for that matter. Perhaps, as she’d wondered earlier, she hadn’t known her husband very well at all.