The Proteus Cure (30 page)

She couldn’t talk. Was beyond anything as civilized as speech. He brought her to a state of flat-out animal hunger. Words would ruin it. She shook her head and pushed herself onto him harder.

He bit into her neck and after that all was an ecstatic blur.

“Turn it off!” Dr. Gilchrist said.

Startled by the raw emotion in his voice, Shen looked up and found that the doctor had turned away. He stood rigid, head thrown back, arms straight against his sides, hands in tight fists.

“Sir?”

“Off, goddamn it!
Off
!”

Shen shut down the visual and audio feeds from Dr. Sheila’s office.

Dr. Gilchrist was obviously shocked. Shen too. But he hadn’t wanted to turn away. Here was an unsuspected side of the proper Dr. Sheila. Who would have dreamed she possessed such a wonderful body, curving and swelling in all the right places? She had hid it well within her loose clothing and even looser lab coat. And who would have dreamed she was a woman of such passion …

It made Shen want to rush home to Jing and ease the throbbing hardness behind his fly, make her moan with pleasure like Dr. Sheila.

“The bitch!” Dr. Gilchrist said. He turned toward Shen with teeth bared like a wolf. “Pretending to be pure as driven snow but … this … to think …in the office …”

He seemed to run out of words, or lose the ability to speak.

Why so upset? This surely was not the first time someone had had sex in a Tethys office. But then he saw the hurt mixing with the rage in Dr. Gilchrist’s eyes and he knew.

Dr. Gilchrist was in love with her.

Shen found that more shocking than Dr. Sheila’s lust. Dr. Gilchrist was always so in control, seemingly above the petty needs of common people. And yet here he was, raging like a betrayed lover.

Lover … Shen wondered if the two doctors at one time had had an affair.

But no. Shen sensed that Dr. Gilchrist had loved her from afar, had admired her, placed her on a pedestal.

And now … to see this …

“What should I do, sir?”

Dr. Gilchrist calmed himself—Shen sensed it took much effort—and fixed his gaze on the blank screen.

“Continue to monitor her phone and computer. Erase the recording and when they’ve … when they’ve finished, resume AV monitoring.”

“Yessir.”

“I’ll be in my office.” Dr. Gilchrist still looked shaken. “Keep me informed of any new developments.”

“Of course.”

As Dr. Gilchrist left the tiny room, Shen thought about erasing the recording. Yes, he would do it. But not yet. He wished to watch it again.

“One last thing before you go.”

Gerald Kaplan looked up at the clerk—a young black woman in a green skirt and blouse—and concealed his annoyance. He was only scheduled till three today and he wasn’t staying late. Whatever “last thing” she had, she’d better be quick about it. He’d put in his hours, now he wanted to go home.

It had been raining steadily all day and the parking lot was flooded. The longer he stayed, the deeper it would get. “What is it?”

“A chart. You were the last to see her, so you need to sign off on her.”

“What’s the story?”

The clerk shrugged. “Dead. That’s all I know.”

Gerald looked at the name. Icy shock stabbed him.
Tanesha Green
.

He flipped open the chart and looked at the typed note pasted inside the front cover:
Deceased. Cardiac arrest.
The time of death, the names of the hospital and the doctor who pronounced her were listed below.

He closed the chart and leaned back, chilled yet sweating. Takamura had told him that the first patient showing pigment changes had died in some sort of accident—a fall at home. And now that woman’s counterpart was dead too.

Coincidence? If so, it was damn convenient for the folks producing VG723.

Try as he might, Gerald could not escape the conclusion that someone was covering tracks. An outlandish idea, wacky, absurd, and yet …

Let’s just say it’s true, he thought. Who would it be?

Not the Tethys crew—they were an altruistic bunch. They’d never kill anybody to hide a secret, no matter how dangerous. But he couldn’t say the same about VecGen. For all he knew it could be a money-laundering front for organized crime.

Now
there
was a thought.

Any way about it, Takamura and that Rosko goon had better watch out. They were loose ends.

Gerald bolted upright in his chair.

And so am I!

What if there really were people out there covering their tracks? How long before they decided he was too much of a liability?

How else to explain the two oh-so-convenient deaths?

Yes, it could all be coincidence, but why take chances? He’d been looking for an excuse to get away for a while. This could be it. Claim a family emergency, and disappear.

Not forever. He’d keep watch. And if nothing happened to Takamura or Rosko, he’d come back.

But if something did happen …

He wondered if he needed a license to practice medicine in Honduras or Ecuador.

He checked his watch. The bank was still open. Time to put it all into traveler’s checks.

But before he disappeared maybe he’d throw some gas on the fire—then see if anyone showed up to put it out.

Sheila sat on the floor in the corner of her office, snuggled in Paul’s arms. The corner provided a haven. She was still naked, but Paul had draped his sweater over them, covering what he could.

She smiled at him. “I’m still dizzy. I’ve never gotten so dizzy from sex.”

Paul returned her smile. “I’ve never made someone dizzy before. You seemed really excited. Unless you’re a good actress.”

“No act, believe me. I was out of control.”

“In a good way. A very good way.” He stroked her hair. “What a fabulous surprise. I thought I was just coming here for lunch.”

Sheila laughed. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve done anything with anyone. Hanging around with you just pushed me over the edge. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” Ooh, that might scare him. “I mean, I couldn’t stop thinking of having you. Of you having me.”

She giggled and turned red.

“I know what you mean. I haven’t been able to get anything done at home. I can’t sleep. It’s a good thing I’m off work or I might have wired somebody’s cable up to a gas range.” He tapped her nose. “Can’t think of anything but you.”

“I hadn’t planned for it to be so … well, you know. I wanted it to be candlelight and, jeez, at least a bed, but I just couldn’t wait anymore.”

“Hey, no apologies. That was … I hate the word, but that was incredible.”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

She closed her eyes and leaned against his shoulder. Not only was the sex great but she felt so comfortable with him. No embarrassment, no remorse. Just … good.

“We could do it again, you know,” Paul said. “Just to make sure you weren’t faking.”

He kissed her lips. Her heartbeat picked up tempo. Twice in her office … did she dare?

Her phone rang and answered her question.

As Sheila reached for it, Paul grabbed her arm.

“Let it ring.”

She sighed. “I wish I could, but in my business you don’t ignore pages and phone calls.”

She picked up the receiver. “Doctor Takamura.”

“If you recognize my voice, don’t say my name. Do you know who I am?”

Sheila knew instantly that it was Kaplan. “Yes.”

“Good. Meet me at the place where we first spoke if you want the answers to your questions—all your questions.”

Was he for real?

“Can’t you tell me now?”

“Over the phone? Not likely.”

“Okay then, when?”

“A-S-A-P. In two hours I’ll be on my way to the airport and you’ll have missed your chance.”

He hung up.

“Don’t tell me,” Paul said. “You’ve got an emergency.”

“Not the kind you think. That was Doctor Kaplan.”

Sheila gave him the gist of the call.

“He didn’t want you to say his name or where you were supposed to meet him. Sounds like he knows something.”

Paul grabbed his shorts and began stepping into them. “We’d better get going. It’s raining pretty hard out there so the traffic might be slow.

“He didn’t say anything about you.”

“Maybe not, but if you think you’re going out there alone, forget it.

He had a point. She was half dressed when she remembered.

“Oh, no! I’m on till eight tonight!”

“Get someone to cover for you.”

“I can’t. I’m covering someone’s shift as it is. Damn!”

“Try. Call in some favors. We can’t miss out on this.”

Marge’s voice blared through the intercom: “Mr. Li on two.”

Bill didn’t want to speak to anyone, especially someone who had been witness to Sheila’s wanton display. Bad enough that he’d been subjected to it, but to think that another man had been privy as well …

Almost unbearable.

Sheila … flesh bared … legs spread … allowing—no,
inviting
that cretinous beast Rosko into her.

Bill had wanted to vomit. Still felt queasy. He’d just learned the truth about Rosko from the security company. If Sheila knew she’d never have let him near her. Well, he’d make sure she knew real soon.

But still … such lascivious carrying on right here on the Tethys campus. Never in a million years would he have imagined—

“Doctor Gilchrist?” Marge again.

“I’ve got it.” He reached for the phone. “Yes, Shen?”

“Doctor Sheila receive call from man who did not give name, but after call she say it was someone named Doctor Kaplan.”

Kaplan! Jesus God! Not Kaplan! How the hell did she find him?

“What … what did he want?”

“He say to meet him and he would answer all their questions.”

Bill closed his eyes as he stifled a groan. It was all coming apart.

“Where are they meeting?”

“He say in place where they first speak. No more.”

Did Kaplan suspect a phone tap?

“Shen, I want you to trace that call and—”

“Did, sir. It come from Boston—from Penner Brigham Hospital.”

Damn. Useless. The place was huge.

“All right, then. Follow them. Call me when you find out where they’re meeting. This man Kaplan is a terrible threat to my sister’s dream.”

“Yessir.”

As he hung up, Bill felt his insides coiling into knots.

Was Kaplan insane? Anything he revealed would turn around and bite him as well. What was he thinking?

“A dark and stormy night,” Paul muttered as he pulled into Kaplan’s driveway. “Well, almost night.”

He turned off the engine and sat. Alone. Sheila hadn’t been able to find coverage.

Thoughts of their lovemaking had kept him warm all the way to Marblehead—God, what a woman—but now that he was here …

Sheila had written down a number of questions and he was to call her with the answers so that she could ask follow-ups.

Paul hoped he was up to it. He had no grounding in medicine. It was such a wide, arcane field—and growing wider and more arcane every minute—that he felt daunted by the prospect of making sense of whatever Kaplan had to say.

He glanced at his watch: 4:20. The days were getting short fast.

Kaplan looked surprised when he answered Paul’s knock.

“I don’t recall inviting you.”

“Doctor Takamura couldn’t get away. I’m here in her stead.”

“Sorry.” He started to close the door. “I’ll only talk to—”

In a burst of anger Paul slammed his hand against the door, knocking it open. He stepped in and faced the cowering Kaplan.

“I have a list of questions for you to answer, and I intend to hold you to your word.”

He closed the door behind him.

“I-I’ll call the police!”

“I think not. Paul pointed to a chair. “Sit down.”

Kaplan dropped onto a sofa. Paul positioned an armchair opposite him and pulled out Sheila’s list.

“Okay. First thing she wants to know—”

“I’ll tell this my way, if you don’t mind.”

Paul looked at him. Kaplan had regrouped and replenished his vinegar.

Paul nodded. “Okay. Go.”

Kaplan leaned forward, hands clasped atop his knees.

“I’ll skip the scientific details. You wouldn’t understand them and they’re not germane to the big story.” He cleared his throat. “It all started ten years ago when I was heading up a research team working with embryonic stem-cells. I’d had some luck with cloning an antigenically neutral strain.”

“KB-twenty-six.”

“Not yet. I was still a long way from KB-twenty-six. I needed money for development. I applied for grants from NIH, NAS, anyone else connected to the government who had dollars to give away; I applied to universities and foundations—ironically, the Tethys Foundation turned me down. I got offers but only small amounts. Nowhere near what I needed. And then out of the blue this venture capital company contacts me and says they’ll underwrite whatever I need.”

“Innovation Ventures.”

“Exactly. I thought they were the greatest—then. True to their word they funded me to the max. And that allowed me to develop a strain of embryonic stem cells that might offer a last-resort hope to people with refractive leukemia. So I started primate trials.” He looked at Paul. “You following me?”

Paul nodded. No problem. Pretty straightforward so far.

“You mean monkeys and such.”

“Exactly. And the primate trials were a roaring success. So I applied for and received the go-ahead from the FDA for clinical trials. The ink on the approval was hardly dry when Tethys came knocking on the door to run the trial.”

“
Now
KB-twenty-six comes in.”

“Right—as does your son and a host of other refractive leukemias.”

Paul remembered the bright summer day Rose and he drove Coogan through the Tethys front gate—and the forlorn hope that this time something would work. KB26 was new and experimental, but they didn’t care. They’d tried everything and had nowhere else to go. Coog was on his last legs. If he didn’t respond to
something
, they’d be burying him before Christmas.