I Will Fear No Evil (11 page)

“I’m glad to hear it. And I’m glad to see that you are getting well, Johann. I’m certain you are since you are again, or still, the same stinking bad-tempered, unreasonable old scoundrel you always were.”

Johann chuckled. “Thanks, Jake—and I see that you are in good health, too. May we never see the day we talk sweet to each other. What else is now? Oh, yes! Where in hell is my secretary? Eunice, I mean. There is not a one of this gang of kidnappers around me who ever knew her . . . and they show no interest in trying to find her. Oh, Garcia knew her by sight—but he says that he doesn’t know where she is and claims he’s too busy to run errands. Told me to ask you.”

“Oh.” Salomon hesitated. “Do you know her address?”

“Eh? Somewhere at the north end of town. I suppose my accountant has it. Wait a moment! You took her home once, I remember clearly.”

“So I did. It was indeed somewhere in the north end. But those rabbit warrens all look alike. My guards may know. Hold it—
your
mobile guards escorted her for several months, right up to the time you went in for surgery. Have you asked them?”

“Hell, Jake, I haven’t been allowed to see
anyone.
I don’t even know that they are still working for me.”

“I’m fairly sure they still were when I left for Europe. But, Johann, while we can ask them, I doubt if it will do any good.”

“Why not?”

“Because I
did
see Eunice just before your operation. She was interested—she was fond of you, Johann, much more so than you deserved—”

“Conceded! Make it march.”

“Well, she didn’t mention specific plans but I don’t think she intended to stay in secretarial work. Hell, man, none of us expected that you would ever
need
a secretary again. I would happily have hired her myself; she is a good secretary. But—”

“I’m sure you would, you old goat. But surely you let her know that she could stay on my payroll forever? Well, until I died, at least.”

“She knew that. But she is a proud girl, Johann. Not a parasite. I’ll make an effort to find her. However, if I don’t, there are many good secretaries. I’ll find one for you. That’s a promise.”

“Look, I don’t want another secretary; I want Eunice Branca.”

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant. You’d find me some old witch who does perfect work but is no fun to look at or have around . . . while you’ve probably got Eunice stashed away in your office.”

Salomon said slowly, “Johann, I swear by all that’s holy that I do not have her in my office nor anywhere.”

“Then she
did
turn you down. Jake, I trust you with my life and all my worldly goods. But I don’t trust you er any man not to steal a perfect secretary if he can.”

“Nolo contendere. I did offer her a job anytime she wanted it. She did not accept.”

“So we find her.
You
find her.”

Salomon sighed. “What clues can you give me? Her husband, perhaps? Isn’t he an artist?”

“I suppose you could call him that. Look, Jake, don’t hold this against Eunice—but
I
would call him a gigolo. But I’m old-fashioned. I had to get a report when she married him. He was clean, no reason to lose the best secretary a man ever had just because she chose to marry him. Yes, he was an artist, one who didn’t sell much; she supported him. That was
her
business; Branca was all right—didn’t use drugs, didn’t even drink. But he wasn’t up to her. Illiterate. Surely I know how common that is today; I’m not prejudiced, I’ve got illiterates right in this house—and only God and Accounting know how many are working for Smith Enterprises. Branca may never have attended a school in which reading is taught. But I can give you one lead—if Eunice is not working as a secretary—easy to check through Social Security—and if they aren’t on the Welfare rolls—she won’t be, he might be—then check model agencies, video, artists, photographers, et cetera. For
both
of them. For he was as handsome as Eunice was beautiful; the snoopshot with the security report made that plain.”

“Very well, Johann; I’ll get a skiptrace firm on it.”

“Hell, put a regiment of detectives on it!”

“But suppose they dropped out? People do.”

Johann sniffed. “Perhaps he would, I would lay any amount that she never would. But if necessary, I want every Abandoned Area in this city combed.”

“Expensive. You send a private detective into an A.A. and the premium on his life goes sky high.”

“Didn’t you tell me that I have more money than I know what to do with?”

“True. But I don’t relish hiring a man for hazardous work even if he wants the job. But we’re borrowing trouble; it may take nothing more than getting Accounting to dig out that address. Or do a back check on a Social Security number with the customary small bribe. I’ll let you know.”

Salomon stood up to leave. Smith said, “Hold it. Will I see you tomorrow? And will you phone in a report—tell Hedrick or the physician on watch; they won’t let me talk on the phone—phone a report each day? Till you find her?”

“Every day, Johann.”

“Thanks, Jake. You’ll make Eagle Scout yet. Tell nursy she can come out of the comer now. They’re probably waiting to slip me my Mickey Finn—this is the longest they’ve let me stay awake so far.”

Two rooms away Salomon stopped to speak to Dr. Hedrick. The physician looked at him. “Rough,” he stated.

“Quite. Doctor, how long do you expect to keep your patient from using a mirror?”

“Hard to say. Progress has been rapid lately . . . but Smith still has very imperfect control of the new body. Plus tingling and itching and numbness—all to be expected—and imaginary pains. Psychosomatic, rather; they are real to the patient. Counselor, if you expect me to have my patient ready for a competency hearing any time soon, emotional shocks must be delayed as long as possible. That’s my opinion, though of course I am strongly influenced by Dr. Rosenthal’s judgment. Besides imperfect body control, our patient is weak and emotionally extremely unstable.”

“So I am aware.”

“Mr. Salomon, you look as if you needed another tranquilizer. May I?”

Salomon grudged a smile. “Only if it involves grain alcohol.”

Hedrick chuckled. “Will you settle for some bottled in Scotland?”

“Yes! No water. Well, just a touch.”

“I’ll dispense the drug, you add water to taste. I’ll prescribe for myself, too—I also find this case a bit trying. Even though we are making medical history.”

8

Dr. Garcia rubbed Jake Salomon’s arm where he had just injected him. “Now wait three minutes. With a tenth cc. of ‘Tranquille’ in you, you could attend your own hanging in a calm mood.”

“Thank you, Doctor. Dr. Hedrick, what’s bothering Johann now? Your message was not specific.”

Hedrick shook his head. “The patient won’t talk to us. Simply demands to see you.”

“Uh . . . he has found out? Or, rather, if he has, what then?”

Hedrick turned to his colleague. “Dr. Garcia?”

“You know my opinion, Doctor. Your patient has recovered, is simply weak from being too long in bed. There is no longer any excuse—any
medical
excuse—for restraints.”

“Dr. Rosenthal?”

The psychiatrist shrugged. “The human mind is a weird and wonderful thing—and the longer I study it the less I’m sure about anything concerning it. But I agree with Dr. Garcia on one point: You can’t keep a patient tied down forever.”

Hedrick said, “I’m afraid that’s it, Counselor.”

Salomon sighed. “And I’ve been appointed a volunteer.”

“Any of us will go in with you if you wish, sir. But the patient flatly refuses to talk to
us.
We’ll be standing by, ready to move fast if a crisis develops.”

“The dummy-switches dodge again?”

“Oh, certainly. And this time the nurse has been instructed to get out if you tell her to.
You
, not the patient. But don’t worry; I’ll be watching and listening by closed-circuit video; Dr. Garcia and Dr. Rosenthal will watch the monitor scopes.”

“I’m not worrying, that drug must have hit me. Okay, I’ll go in—and if I have to ride the tiger, I’ll hang onto its ears.”

Johann Smith said, “Jake! Where the hell have you been? You’ve come to see me just
once
in the past three weeks. Once! Damn you.”

“I’ve been working. Which is more than you can say.”

“You think so, eh? Physiotherapy is damned hard work, harder than you ever do, you shyster—and I have to go through it seven days a week.”

“My heart bleeds, Johann—want a chit to see the Chaplain? I was laid up sick for ten days—which I’m sure Hedrick told you—and I still don’t feel chipper, so move over, you lazy bastard, and let me stretch out. Damn it, Johann, I’m not as young as I used to be; I can’t jump through hoops every time you snap your fingers.”

“Now, now, Jake, don’t take that line with me. I’m sorry you were ill. I told ’em to send you flowers. Did you get them?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“That’s odd, I didn’t send any. Caught you, didn’t I? Jake, I never intend to overwork a man—but, damn it, when he’s on my payroll, I expect to hear from him occasionally. And see him.”

“I’m not on your payroll.”

“Huh? What nonsense is this?”

“When the Court appointed me your guardian pro tem and conservator, McCampbell awarded me a token fee of ten dollars a month. That’s all I am allowed to accept from you—and I haven’t collected it.”

Johann looked incredulous. “Well, we’ll change that in a hurry! You get word to Judge McCampbell that I said—”

“Stow it, Johann. It was part of the deal to shut up your granddaughters. Now what is eating you? Mrs. Branca? You’ve had a report each day—negative. I fetched a briefcase stuffed with detailed reports—all negative but showing what has been done. Want to read ’em? I see you have a reading machine now.”

“Read negative reports? Jake, don’t be silly. Yes, I’m fretted about Eunice—damn it, even if she didn’t want to work for me any longer, you’d think she would have paid me the minimum courtesy of a sickroom visit. But that’s not what is on my mind—not why I sent for you, I mean Nurse!”

“Yes, sir?”

“Switch off the voice monitors; then go hide your head in the idiot box. Pick any program as long as it’s loud; I want privacy.”

“Yes, sir.” She stood up and switched off the dummy switches.

“Nurse.”

“Yes, Mr. Salomon?”

“Ask Dr. Hedrick if we can have full privacy. I don’t think Mr. Smith is going to swing from the chandelier simply because I don’t have a nursing degree.”

“Mr. Salomon, Dr. Hedrick says that we are doing so well”—she smiled brightly—“aren’t we, Mr. Smith?—that if you wanted to talk privately, I could leave. Just push this red button when you want me.” She smiled again and left.

Johann said, “Well, that’s a surprise!”

“Why so? You’re getting well, Hedrick says so.”

“Hmm. ‘I fear the Greeks, even bearing gifts.’ Jake, come close, I want to whisper . . . because I wouldn’t put it past ’em to have a spare microphone tucked away somewhere.”

“Paranoia, you old fool. Why would Hedrick bother to listen to our conversation?”

“ ‘Young fool,’ please—I’m young again. Paranoid, possibly. Anyhow I don’t want anybody to hear this but you. Because if I’m mistaken, it won’t sound good to have this repeated in court in a competency hearing. So lean close and listen hard. Jake . . .
I’m almost certain this new body of mine is female!
”

Jake Salomon’s ears started to buzz and he was glad that Garcia had given him that shot. “So? Interesting idea. If ‘true, what are you going to do? Take it back to the complaint desk and demand another one?”

“Oh, don’t talk like a fool, Jake. Whatever body I have now, I’m stuck with—and if it’s female, well, it’ll seem odd but half the human race manages to bear up under it; I guess I can. But don’t you
see
? If my notion is correct, that’s why they’ve taken such great care not to let me see myself. Afraid I would jump my cams, no doubt.” Johann chuckled. “I’m tougher than that. Shucks, they haven’t even let you see anything you could spot as female—sheet over my whole body, not even my arms in sight, and enough gear hooked to me to clutter up any lines of figure. Towel over my scalp—I suppose the hair is growing back, or such. If I’m horsefaced enough, you couldn’t tell my sex just from my face. My new face.”

“Perhaps. It’s an interesting theory. How did you reach it?”

“Oh, a number of things. Especially the fact that, even though I now can use my hands and arms, they won’t let me. Except during controlled physiotherapy. Can’t
touch
myself, I mean; they strap me down again at once, with an excuse about ‘spastic muscle action’ and so forth. Which I did have at first and don’t have now. But never mind. This is the first time there hasn’t been a nurse in the room. So find out. Lift the sheet and look! Tell me, Jake,
am I male or female
? Hurry—she might come back.”

Salomon sat still. “Johann.”

“What, Jake? Hurry up, man!”

“You’re female.”

Johann Smith was silent several moments, then said, “Well, it’s a relief to be sure. At least I’m not crazy. If ‘female’ and ‘crazy’ aren’t synonyms. Well, Jake? How did it happen?”

“I’ve known it all along, Johann. It’s been a strain on me to see you and not let on. For you are correct; your doctors were afraid that you might not take it well. While you were still weak.”

“They don’t know me very well—it’s not half the surprise it was to me when—at about six, it was—I found out that girls really
are
different from boys. Little girl down the block, it was. Showed me. But how did it happen, Jake? It wasn’t what I signed up for.”

“Oh, but it was.”

“Eh?”

“No instruction you gave said one word about race or sex. You specified ‘healthy,’ and around twenty to forty years old, and with AB-Negative blood. Nothing else.”

Johann blinked. “Yes. But it never occurred to me that they might put me into a woman’s body.”

“Why not? They put women’s hearts into male bodies and vice versa every day.”