Seizure (31 page)

They drove in silence for a few minutes. Daniel spoke up as they reached the outskirts of Nassau and had to slow because of traffic. “Everything you are saying is true. But it is also true that we had a pretty damn good idea of what these people were like before we got here. You're the one who checked them out on the Internet, and to quote you, you said, ‘These people are definitely not nice, and we should limit our interaction with them.' Do you remember saying that?”

“Of course I do,” Stephanie snapped. “It was at the Rialto restaurant in Cambridge, not even a week ago.” She sighed. “My word! So much has happened in the last six days, it seems like a year has gone by.”

“But you get my point,” Daniel persisted.

“I suppose, but I also said I wanted to be sure that by working at their clinic, we wouldn't be supporting something unconscionable.”

“At the expense of being ridiculously redundant, we're here to treat Butler, and nothing else. We agreed on it, and that's what we are going to do. We're not on a social crusade to expose the Wingate Clinic, not now and not even after we treat Butler, because if the FDA finds out what we've done, there could be trouble.”

Stephanie turned around to face Daniel. “When I initially agreed to participate in treating Butler, I thought the only compromise we would be making was in regard to experimental ethics. Unfortunately, it seems as if we find ourselves on the proverbial slippery slope. I'm worried where this is going to take us, conscience-wise.”

“You could always go home,” Daniel said. “You're better at the cellular work, but I suppose I could muddle through it.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I do. You have a far better technique with nuclear transfer than I.”

“No, I'm asking if you would mind if I leave.”

“If the ethical compromises we have to make are going to make you miserable, morose, and unpleasant to be with, then no, I don't mind if you leave.”

“Would you miss me?”

“Is this a trick question? I already implied that I'd much prefer you to stay. Compared with you, I have two thumbs on each hand when I'm working with oocytes and blastocysts under a dissecting microscope.”

“I mean miss me emotionally.”

“Of course! That's a given.”

“It's never a given, especially since you've never said as much. But don't get me wrong; I appreciate you saying it now, and I appreciate your willingness to let me leave. It means a lot to me.” Stephanie sighed. “But as much as I'm conflicted about working with these morons, I don't think I could leave you here to carry on by yourself. But I'll think about it. It makes me feel better to know it is an option, and such feelings are appreciated. After all, from day one, this whole affair has
been against my intuition and better judgment, and this morning's experience hasn't helped.”

“I'm aware of your misgivings,” Daniel said. “And knowing them makes me even more appreciative of your support. But enough is enough! We know they are bad news, and what we've seen this morning just confirms it. Let's move on to another subject! What was your take on the Pakistani neurosurgeon?”

“What can I say? I liked his English accent, but he's kind of short. On the other hand, he's cute.”

“I'm trying to be serious,” Daniel said, with an edge returning to his voice.

“Well, I'm trying to be humorous. I mean, how can you evaluate a professional after meeting him for lunch? At least he's had good training at recognized academic centers in London, but whether he's a good surgeon, who's to say? At least he's personable.” Stephanie shrugged. “What do you think?”

“I think he's terrific, and I think we're lucky to have him on board. The fact that he had experience doing fetal cell implants for Parkinson's disease as a resident is an extraordinary plus. I mean, he's going to be doing the same procedure for us. Implanting our cloned dopaminergic neural cells will merely be a rerun, with the exception that it will work. I sensed a true frustration on his part that the results of the fetal cell study he was involved in were so poor.”

“He is enthusiastic,” Stephanie agreed. “I have to give him credit for that, but I wasn't totally convinced it wasn't because he needs the work. One thing that surprised me was that he thought it would only take him an hour or so.”

“I'm not,” Daniel said. “Setting the stereotaxic headgear in place is the only step that's time-consuming. The burr hole and the injection will be quick.”

“I suppose we should be thankful to have found him so easily.”

Daniel nodded.

“I know one other reason you were upset this morning,” Daniel said suddenly, after a short break in their conversation.

“Oh?” Stephanie questioned, feeling herself tense up after finally relaxing to a degree. The last thing she wanted to hear was another upsetting detail.

“Your faith in the medical profession must now be at a new nadir.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Spencer Wingate is hardly the short, fat, and warted individual you'd hoped, although, as I already said, he could still be a chain-smoker and have bad breath.”

Stephanie gave Daniel several playful swats on the shoulder. “After all the things I've said lately, it's just like you to remember that.”

In an equally playful fashion, Daniel pretended to be terrified and pressed himself up against his window to get out of her reach. At that moment, they were stopped at a traffic light just short of the bridge to Paradise Island.

“Now, Paul Saunders is another story,” Daniel said, righting himself. “So maybe your faith hasn't suffered an irreversible blow, since his appearance certainly makes up for Spencer's matinee-idol good looks.”

“Paul is not that bad-looking,” Stephanie said. “He certainly has interesting hair, with such a striking white forelock.”

“I know you have trouble saying anything bad about someone's person,” Daniel said. “Not that I understand it, particularly in this instance, considering how you feel about these people, but let's at least admit that the man is an odd-looking duck.”

“People are born with their faces and their bodies; they don't choose them. I'll say Paul Saunders is unique. I've never seen anyone with two different-colored irises.”

“He has an eponymous genetic syndrome,” Daniel explained. “It's fairly rare, if I remember correctly, but I don't recall its name. It was one of those arcane diseases that would occasionally get tossed out during internal medicine rounds.”

“A hereditary disease!” Stephanie remarked. “Well, that's exactly why I don't like to criticize people's basic appearances. Does this syndrome have any serious health consequences?”

“I can't remember,” Daniel admitted.

The light changed, and they motored over the bridge. The view of the Nassau harbor was engaging, and neither spoke until they got to the other side.

“Hey!” Daniel blurted. He veered into a lane for making a right-hand turn across traffic and came to a stop. “What about
heading over to this shopping plaza to get ourselves some more clothes? At the very least, we need bathing suits so we can visit the beach. After the FedEx package gets here, there's not going to be much opportunity to take advantage of Nassau's pleasures.”

“Let's go back to the hotel first. It's time to give Father Maloney a call. By now, he should be back in New York, and maybe he has some information about our luggage. What clothes we buy will depend on whether we're going to get it or not.”

“Good point!” Daniel said. He changed his turn signals and looked over his shoulder as he drove back into the line of traffic heading east.

A few minutes later, Daniel drove the car past the hotel's parking area and directly up to the front of the hotel. Liveried doormen came to both sides of the car and opened the doors simultaneously.

“You're not going to park it in the lot?” Stephanie questioned.

“Let's leave the car here with the doormen,” Daniel said. “We'll give Father Maloney a try, but whether or not we get him, I want to go back and get us bathing suits.”

“Fine by me,” Stephanie said, as she slid out of the car. After the stress of the morning, a little shopping plus a relaxing visit to the beach sounded glorious.

 

As if he'd had a shot of speed, Gaetano felt his pulse quicken and the hairs rise up on the back of his neck. Finally, after lots of false alarms, the two people coming in through the front doors of the hotel looked like the pair he was searching for. He quickly withdrew the photo he had in the pocket of his flower-print shirt. While the couple was still in view, he compared their faces with those in the photograph. “Bingo,” he said under his breath. He replaced the photo and glanced at his watch. It was a quarter to three. He shrugged. If the professor cooperated by either going for a long walk or, better yet, heading back into town, where the two of them must have been, Gaetano might make the evening flight to Boston after all.

The couple disappeared from view to Gaetano's right, apparently walking through the lobby, past the registration
desks. Without causing a scene by hurrying, Gaetano replaced the magazine he'd been perusing, picked up his jacket, which he'd draped over the back of the sofa, smiled at the bartender, who'd been nice enough to engage him in chitchat, which had kept the hotel security from becoming suspicious, and headed after the couple. By the time he got outside, they were out of sight.

Gaetano headed along the serpentine walkway that wended its way among flowering trees and high bushes. He wasn't concerned that he couldn't see the couple, since he assumed they were headed to their room, and he knew exactly where room 108 was located. As he walked, he regretted his instructions not to confront the professor in the hotel. It would have been so much easier than having to wait for the man to leave the premises.

Gaetano caught sight of his quarry just as they were entering their building. He walked around to the ocean side, and found a strategically situated hammock stretched between two palm trees. After draping his jacket over one of the ropes, he gingerly climbed aboard. From that convenient vantage point, he would see them if they went to the beach, the pool, or any other of the hotel attractions. There wasn't much more he could do but wait and watch and hope their plans took them away from the hotel.

As the minutes passed, Gaetano's heart rate settled back to normal, although he was still titillated by the anticipation of imminent physical action. He was about as comfortable as he could imagine, with his head propped up on a little canvas pillow attached to the hammock and one foot out on the ground to gently sway himself. Only a smattering of sunlight sifted through the palm fronds overhead, which was a godsend. If he'd been in the direct sun, he would have broiled.

A woman in a skimpy bikini and a see-through cover-up walked by and smiled. Gaetano gave a wave in return, which nearly upended him. As far as he knew, he'd never been in a hammock before, and since it was stretched rather tightly between the trees, it wasn't as steady as he imagined. He felt better gripping both sides.

Gaetano was about to risk checking his watch when he saw the couple. Instead of going to the beach, they were on the
walkway, heading back to the lobby. More important, they were dressed as they had been earlier. Gaetano didn't want to jinx himself, but attired as they were, they weren't going to the pool for damn sure, and just maybe they might be heading back out of the hotel.

In an attempt to get out of the hammock quickly, Gaetano caused it to flip completely over, resulting in his being ignominiously dumped face-first on the ground. He scrambled to his feet and was further embarrassed when he discovered that two toddlers and their mother had witnessed his fall.

He brushed off blades of grass adhering to the front of his slacks and picked up his sunglasses. It irritated him that both kids had smirks on their faces at his expense, and for a second, he thought about teaching them a lesson about respect. Luckily, the family moved on, although one of the brats looked back over his shoulder, with a mocking smile still plastered to his face. Gaetano gave him the finger. He then grabbed his jacket and took off after the couple.

This time, Gaetano ran, since it was now important to keep them in sight. He caught up with them before they reached the central building, and he slowed to a walk. He was breathing heavily. When they entered the lobby, Gaetano was right behind them. He was close enough to hear them talk. He was also close enough to appreciate that Stephanie was even more comely than her photograph suggested.

“Why don't you have them pull the car up,” Stephanie was saying. “I'll be out in a second. I want to check with the concierge whether we need a reservation for dinner tonight in the courtyard.”

“Fine,” Daniel said agreeably.

Suppressing a smile to hide his delight, Gaetano reversed course and exited the lobby area through the door he'd just come in. Walking quickly, he beat it out to the parking lot and jumped into the Cherokee. After getting it started, he drove back toward the front of the hotel, positioning the car so he could see the roundabout and the porte cochere. Directly in front of the hotel entrance was a blue Mercury Marquis with its engine idling. Stephanie appeared from within and climbed into the front passenger seat.