Forever (72 page)

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Authors: Judith Gould

Tags: #amazon, #romance, #adventure, #murder, #danger, #brazil, #deceit, #opera, #manhattan, #billionaires, #pharmaceuticals, #eternal youth, #capri, #yachts, #gerontology, #investigative journalist

BOOK: Forever
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'You mean, without the goggles, they would
inadvertently walk straight into the beams?'

'Right through them and never even know
it.'

They had reached the trapezoid structure.
'This is where the quimica division produces its pharmaceuticals,'
Luiz said. He looked at her questioningly. 'On the other side of
this building is the security compound. Are you up to seeing
it?'

'Sure,' said Stephanie.

Near the end of the tour, she was drifting
towards a door when - she did a double-take - was that a bin of
goggles with red lenses beside her? Infrareds? Quickly looking
around to make sure no one was watching, her right hand darted out,
reached into the bin, and snatched a set. She slipped them inside
her pocket and looked around, hands in her pockets, lips slightly
puckered. Cool as a cucumber.

'Now where are we off to?' she asked.

Luiz said, 'The cube. If you care to see the
lab where we do the actual genetic engineering. Or are you getting
tired?'

'Quite honestly, I am getting a bit bleary
around the edges. We'll make it the last stop,' she decided.

They came to the end of the glass tunnel,
and another set of brushed-steel doors. Stephanie studied the large
yellow and black warning decals with more than a little
apprehension. The one on the left read:

 

CAUTION

Biological Hazard

Restricted Area

Authorised Personnel Only

 

And the one on the right:

 

DANGER Carcinogenic Contaminants

Teratogenic Substances

In Use

 

Luiz produced his plastic card, but
Stephanie stayed his hand.

'Wait,' she said, and opened her purse. 'Why
don't we see if mine will work. This way we can see if I'll have to
be escorted everywhere I go.'

'By all means.' He gestured at the card
slot. 'Be my guest.'

She slipped her card into it and was
rewarded by the blinking of a yellow light and the doors sliding
apart. 'Well, what do you know?' she said.

'This,' said Luiz, 'is where we do our most
important research.'

'Which is?' Stephanie asked.

His voice was soft. 'DNA research and
gene-splicing.'

She looked at him. 'Like creating a better
mouse?'

'No, we've done that.' He shook his head
adamantly. 'A healthier, longer-living, and hopefully happier human
being. But not necessarily a better one.'

She looked around and frowned. She had a gut
feeling, an instinct that there was something sinister about this
lab. And I'm probably not being told half of it. God alone knows
how many secret projects are in the works.

They were at the far end of the room when
she noticed the six doors. The one on the far left intrigued her
especially. Its yellow and black decal warned:

 

TOP SECRET AREA

CAUTION

BIOLOGICAL AND RADIOACTIVE AREA

Strictest Radiological and Genetic

Protocols must be Observed

 

'What's behind there?' she asked, pointing
at it.

'That is our top-secret laboratory,' Luiz
said. 'I'm afraid I can't take you in there.'

Her pulse began to hum.

'Then my key card wouldn't open it?'

'I'm afraid not. Even mine doesn't.'

'Then whose would?'

'Dr Vassiltchikov's, Colonel Valerio's, Dr
Jhanwar's, and both of the Mr de Veigas.'

'I see,' she said softly.

She felt something reach into her gut and
twist. Every instinct tells me I've got to get in there.

And there was only one person who could
unwittingly help. Where's Eduardo when I need him?

 

 

Myles Riley strolled into O'Neal's Balloon,
glanced about, and scowled. He was wearing a light-blue sports
jacket, grey polyester slacks, and had his top shirt button open
and his polyester tie loosened. The young
au courant
dressed-for-success crowd depressed him. Made him feel shopworn and
every one of his forty-eight years. Reminded him that in the urban
jungle prowled the fiercest animal of them all - singles.

Nancy Fleming had a little table way in the
back where it was quiet. When she saw him, she lifted a hand and
waggled her long fingers at him while continuing to sip her mimosa
through a straw.

'What is this - hysterical hour?' he
growled, glaring around as he pulled out a chair and plopped
himself down.

'You're late,' she said around her
straw.

'Yeah. Phone rang on my way out.'

She shrugged, showing him she didn't much
care, and he twisted around, trying to catch the eye of a waiter or
waitress.

Finally a waiter came and Riley ordered a
draught beer for himself and pointed to Nancy's glass and held up
one finger. They waited until the drinks came and he emptied a
quarter of his mug in one long swallow. Then he put it down and
licked the foam off his upper lip.

'Well?' he said.

She leaned across the table. She was wearing
a cloyingly sweet perfume that made his nostrils itch and a
pale-grey linen jacket with the top two buttons undone, so that
when she leaned forward the lapels parted strategically and he
could see the swelling of her soft ripe freckled breasts. 'I got
what you wanted,' she said. 'Name, address, long-distance printout.
The whole schmear.' A steely look came into her eyes. 'I think it's
worth more'n a hundred's what I think.'

He looked at her levelly and shook his head.
'No way. It's worth fifty, tops. I got the name and address on my
own.'

'Oh yeah?' she glared at him. 'Then who is
it, huh? You tell me.'

'Kafka, Samuel I.,' he said calmly. '2107
Broadway.'

Her expression changed. 'Shit,' she said,
sitting back and adjusting her lapels and looking miffed. 'How'd
you find out?'

'Simple. I looked it up in the reverse
directory.'

She turned her glass slowly around in a
circle. 'Only cops are supposed to have access to those, you
know.'

He shrugged and took another swallow of
beer. 'So arrest me.' His face was set and cold. 'Seventy-five's as
high as I'll go.'

She lit a cigarette and drew in a mouthful
of smoke. 'Oh, all right,' she said truculently. 'Seventy-five it
is.' Cigarette dangling from her lip and one eye squinting against
the smoke, she held out her hand, palm side up. 'The muh-ney,
huh-ney.'

'Yeah, yeah.' He reached for his wallet,
counted out three twenties, a ten, and a five.

Her hand snatched for it.

'Unh-unh,' he said, holding it just beyond
her reach. 'The printout, if you please.'

'Oh, ChristV She grabbed her bag, fished a
folded piece of computer printout from it, and tossed it across the
table at him. 'There.'

Taking his time, he slowly picked it up,
unfolded it, and ignored everything but the itemised long-distance
calls, which he scanned:

 

23 MAY 11:49A D TO BUDAPEST HU 36
1852200

25 MAY 03:02 A ETOSALTZBURG AU 43 662
848511

27 MAY 02:16 P D TO MILAN IT 39 2801231

 

'Well?' she demanded. 'It's what you asked
for, isn't it?'

'Yeah.' He nodded. 'It is.' He tossed the
money to her side of the table and refolded the printout and
stuffed it into his breast pocket.

She smiled as she clicked her bag shut. 'Now
that we got business out of the way, what d'you say we have another
drink? Maybe something to eat. Huh?'

He shook his head. 'Not me. I gotta run.' He
finished his beer and pushed back his chair.

She glared. 'Well, see if I'll help you out
the next time,' she sniffed.

He smiled knowingly. ' 'Course you will.
With your tastes and what you make at the phone company, you need
every extra penny you can get your grubby little hands on. Till
next time, sweetums.' He gave her a mock salute and left.

 

 

Lili floated. On a white air-filled lounge
in the middle of the aquamarine pool. All in smart white. White
one-piece swimsuit. White silk turban. White plastic wrap-around
sunglasses with a mere razor-slit to look out through. Huge clunky
white earrings and bracelets. Even her lips, fingernails, and
toenails were painted pearlescent white to match.

From the edge of the pool, Colonel Valerio
reported, 'The man Ms Williams has been calling is named Samuel I.
Kafka. He lives in New York.'

Lili gazed unconcernedly up at the sky.
'Kafka . . .' she murmured, ' . . . Kafka . . . The name sounds
vaguely familiar. Should I know who he is?'

'I'm not sure, ma'am. My contact is
investigating him right now.'

'Let me know when you find out more.' She
dipped her fingertips in the water, moved them in languorous
circles to create gentle ripples.

'Also, my contact faxed me copies of Mr
Kafka's long-distance telephone calls over the past couple of
months.'

'Indeed! How enterprising of you, Colonel!
And where did our Mr Kafka call?'

'One of the places was Budapest.'

'Budapest!' She was suddenly sitting up
straight, whipping off her wraparounds. She stared at him. 'You're
certain?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

She sat very still, then released a long,
quivering sigh. 'Who did he call there?' Her voice was very
soft.

'The Gellert Hotel. I talked to various
people there, but no one at the switchboard remembered routeing his
call to a particular room. Nor was Monica Williams ever
registered.'

'Then perhaps it wasn't her he was calling.
He could easily have been telephoning someone else who was staying
there.'

'Maybe,' he drawled. 'But somehow I don't
think so.'

'No,' Lili said slowly, 'nor do I.' She lay
back down and slipped her sunglasses back on. She thought: I wonder
if Judit Balasz is still alive? Not that it really mattered. She
would be a decrepit old woman. No one in their right mind would
listen to her ramblings. And besides, she thinks I died in that
fire in London . . .

'And where else did Mr Kafka call?'

'Salzburg -'

'Enough,' Lili said and lay absolutely
still. She thought: I haven't been in contact with Detlef von
Ohlendorf for over four decades. He too believes I'm dead, so he
couldn't have told anyone anything. I really have nothing to
fear.

But her arrhythmic heartbeat expressed her
own doubts. Told her that no matter how hard she tried to convince
herself otherwise, she had everything to fear.

'You okay, ma'am?' Colonel Valerio
asked.

She didn't answer. She could feel a great
pressure starting to build up inside her lungs. 'And who did Mr
Kafka call in Salzburg?' she asked quietly.

'Once again, the number is a hotel. In this
case, it was the Goldener Hirsch.'

'Don't tell me,' she said sardonically.
'They don't remember his call at the switchboard, and no one has
ever heard of Monica Williams.'

'That's right, ma'am. She was never
registered there.' He paused and added pointedly, 'At least, not
under that name.'

'But you think she was there? Under an
assumed identity? And that it was she who he called?'

'Yes, ma'am, I do.'

And so do I, she thought. So do I . . .

Lili eased the pressure in her lungs by
letting out another long slow breath and stared up at the sky. One
of those huge tropical cloud formations was drifting towards her.
For a while she studied it. Such a strange shape it was, an
asymmetrical topiary of three overlapping grey-and-white busts
stacked one on top of the other. The image did not tantalise or
delight, but was a menace. She could see the face of Judith Balasz
on the bottom one, and Detlef von Ohlendorf on the one in the
centre, and she had the urge to reach up and tear madly into it and
shred it like cotton candy.

She found herself thinking: If only it were
that easy.

'Colonel . . .?'she asked slowly.

'Ma'am?'

Her voice was weary. 'Did Mr. Kafka call
anywhere else?'

'Yes, ma'am. One other place.'

She steeled herself, stared at the top third
of the cloud, at the bust which was still faceless. She held her
breath. As long as it's not -

'Milan,' he said.

She had been expecting it; nevertheless, the
word was a crushing blow. Now the top bust had a puffy cloud face
too: Guberoffs. She closed her eyes against the sight, needing no
reminder; but mostly, against the unbearable reality of her secret
being exposed.

She thought,
Slowly but surely, unseen
enemies are closing ranks around me
. But one question still
remained to be answered: were Samuel Kafka and Monica Williams
working on their own? Or are they part of a greater, broader
conspiracy?

Lili forced herself to appear calm. 'That
will be all, Colonel,' she said dismissively. 'I wish to be left
alone now.'

'Ma'am.' Colonel Valerio spun around smartly
and marched off.

Lili watched him go. The late afternoon
shadows were lengthening, and it was getting noticeably chilly, but
she seemed unaware of the drop in temperature. Still she floated in
the centre of that aquamarine pool, lost in deep thought.

The Ghost is in place. All I have to do to
activate him is to give the word.

A sudden fear rose inside her. She thought,
I only hope to God I didn't wait too long. Ms Williams must be
eliminated. And quickly.

She used her hands to paddle to the edge of
the pool and picked up a walkie-talkie. She raised the antenna and
pressed the transmit button. 'Colonel?'

There was a moment of silence, then static.
'Ma'am?' His voice was a squawk.

Lili took a deep breath. 'Activate The
Ghost. I want Monica Williams eliminated. Now!

 

 

The Ghost was feeling good, same as always
after getting the go-ahead to carry out a contract. It was like
getting high, only a whole lot better. Hell, no fuckin' drug could
touch this euphoria. No way!

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