The Proteus Cure (33 page)

“Parked behind the Admin building. I’ll pick you up in front. Bring your umbrella. It’s a mess out here.”

Ten minutes felt like forever as he waited, watching all the doors and windows for anyone suspicious. He didn’t know what he was going to say but he had to tell Sheila something. Even if they dropped the whole thing and ran away to start a new life, Paul wasn’t sure he’d ever feel safe. That had been Kaplan’s plan and look what happened to him.

The best and worst idea was probably to act as if he knew less than he did and cool it with Sheila. Best because it would protect her. Worst because it meant not seeing her. Hurting her. She’d probably feel used. Keeping his distance might be the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he saw no other way.

He also had to put the brakes on her inquiries into VG723. But how?

“Damn it!” He punched the steering wheel. “How am I going to do this?”

He looked up and had to smile as she stepped out the front door. What a beauty.

She ran full speed through the rain to reach his truck. Her hair swirled about and clung to her face. She swatted at it with one hand while she wrapped the other tightly around her coat to keep it closed.

He sighed. She looked so small and frail in the wind and rain. She could barely make it to him without being blown away. How could she stand up to a corporation that killed people as easily as deleting line items off a budget?

He opened the door for her and she jumped in.

“Made it. Whew! That wind is something else. My hair must be all over the place.”

“It’s fine.”

Of its own accord his hand started to reach out to her, to smooth a few strands back in place. He stopped it. What he really wanted to do was cup a hand around the back of her neck, pull her closer, and kiss her. A lingering kiss. How he wanted her.

“Sorry to drag you out here. A minute ago it was only rain.”

“That’s all right. So, what’s the big secret? What did Kaplan say?”

Now to begin the lies. God, he hated this.

“Nothing. Said I wasn’t a doctor so he refused to talk to me.”

Sheila’s face reddened. “But the list—I gave you the list of what to ask. Did you show him?”

“I tried. I told him what you said and dangled the note in front of him but he wouldn’t talk. Wouldn’t even call you. Wouldn’t say a damn thing. I’m sorry.”

“Well, we’ll just go see him together. Tonight. We’ll get the story. What a jerk. I’m sorry you went all the way there for nothing.”

“So am I. But for a different reason.”

His eyes must have given something away, for she clutched his arm and stared at him.

He said, “Kaplan is dead.”

Sheila gasped. “
What
? Are you serious?”

He nodded.

“But how?” She thought of Tanesha. “Heart?”

“Bludgeoned to death in his home.”

Sheila felt a wave of nausea. It made no sense … her mind wouldn’t register it. They’d seen him just a few days ago.

Then a question worked its way through her confusion.

“How come you know and I haven’t heard a thing?”

“The cops told me.”

“Cops? Paul, what’s going on! Why were the police—?”

“Seems he was murdered not too long after I left.”

“They can’t suspect you!”

“Oh yes, they can. Someone told them about our little contretemps the other morning.”

Head spinning, Sheila leaned back in the seat. What was going on in her life? Patients dying, doctors dying—

She bolted upright—

“I don’t believe you about Kaplan.”

She saw Paul stiffen. “I didn’t kill him, Sheila.”

“I know. I didn’t mean that. I meant that I think he told you something and you’re afraid of what I’ll do with the information. You’re afraid I’ll get killed. But whatever he told you doesn’t matter. There’s already been an attempt on my life. How much more dangerous could it get?”

Paul looked away for a minute, tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He glanced back at her. “You’re right, okay. There’s a lot to tell but not right now. Suffice to say, Kaplan doesn’t think the deaths of your two patients were accidental.”

Sheila bowed her head. “Hal Silberman died today.”

Paul grimaced. “That means four people dead who could cause problems for VG-seven-twenty-three. Kaplan was terrified because he knew too much. He was taking off. Hiding. He said if we didn’t drop the investigation, then most likely Coogan and I would be added to that list. He said whoever it is isn’t playing around and we should just look the other way.”

“Coogan?”

“Kaplan says he’s evidence.”

“I’m sorry, Paul. I’m so sorry I got you two involved.”

“I got
you
involved, asking for that test.”

Oh God, the test.

“I found out the lab samples were switched. Bill was seen around the lab. I think he took Coog’s samples from before he had the KB-twenty-six and substituted it. This sounds crazy but I think the therapy changed his DNA.”

“It’s not crazy. You’re right. It changed him.”

“What?”

Paul looked frightened suddenly. “Look up there.” He didn’t point but jutted his chin in the direction of the building. “Is that Bill’s window?”

She looked and saw two figures, watching them. She couldn’t see their faces but they were facing their way.

“Listen Sheila, all our lives are in danger. Kaplan told me everything he knows but I can’t tell you now. I need you to go back in there and pretend we’re fighting or something. I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts the police are fingering me for Kaplan’s murder.”

“What did they think about you being there last night?”

He looked away again. “I didn’t tell them.”

Sheila closed her eyes. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you lied to them.”

“I was most likely the next-to-last person to see him alive and I panicked.”

“Next to last?”

“Well, figure his killer was the last.”

Oh, right. Of course.

“But if they find out you were there when you said you weren’t, you’ll be their number-one suspect.”

“I know.” It sounded like a moan.

“You’ve got to tell them, Paul. Call them and tell them just what you told me: You had a contentious history with the guy and he was killed shortly after you left him, so you panicked. Now you’re coming clean.”

“I can’t, Sheila.”

“You’ve got to! It’ll look a lot better if they learn it from you than if they find out on their own. We should tell the police everything. All we’ve found out.”

He shook his head. “We can’t prove anything. And with me behind bars, you and Coogan won’t be safe.”

She stared at him. “What happened yesterday—”

“Sheila, I’m crazy about you. And what happened yesterday was incredible. I’m sick that instead of taking you to a nice restaurant or filling your house with flowers, I’m in a car in the rain asking you to lie for me. But I swear to you we’ll get through this together and I’ll spend the rest of my life, our lives, making it up to you.”

She looked back up at the window. Bill and someone else were still watching. She couldn’t hug Paul without being seen, so she squeezed his hands.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Do you think they suspect something?” Bill said as he and Shen stood at his office window and watched Rosko’s car.

Shen had come to Bill after overhearing the call from Rosko about meeting in his car.

“Four deaths …” His piercing eyes riveted Bill. “Only a fool would not suspect.”

Only a fool would not suspect.
Condescending creep
.
Bill liked Shen a lot better when he was subservient. Ever since he had given him the money the tables had been switched. He was at Shen’s mercy and they both knew it. So much for respect.

Bill glanced at him. “Three: The Slade woman, Tanesha Green, and then Kaplan.”

“Doctor Silberman died this morning. Four deaths.” The wolverine tone and that omnipotent stare.

Bill had given the man the tickets and money he’d demanded. Just this morning he’d wired the other fifty thousand into his account for Kaplan. What did he want now? Shen kept watching him. Bill could feel goosebumps on his arms under his shirt. This was not someone he wanted as an enemy. Whatever it was, he could have it. Bill didn’t want Shen angry with him.

“Fine, four deaths. But it should have been three. If Kaplan had kept to himself and left well enough alone we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

Bill had spent last night in a state of sweaty nausea. He still had a conscience. But sometimes conscience had to surrender to a higher purpose.

And the nausea would pass.

“I
meant
does she suspect that she’s bugged?”

“I cannot know.”

Bill had to smile. Of course Shen could not know.

The major disappointment was that Rosko had called Sheila. Bill had hoped the police would have placed him at the scene of the crime by now, looked up his record, and slapped on the cuffs.

Rosko’s passenger door opened. Sheila stepped out and rushed back through the rain. Her head was down, her shoulders slumped, her usual bouncing stride was gone.

Had they had a fight?

“Here she comes. Get back to the monitoring room and stay on her. I want to know every word she says to anyone.”

“Yessir.”

“And if you need to call me, use my cell. I’ll be out of town this afternoon.”

Shen nodded, then headed for the door.

Bill turned back to the window and watched Sheila approach.

Tramp. He’d tried to expunge the images from his memory but they kept recurring … the same scenes flashing again and again across the screen of his brain like some foul porn loop …

No, not fair. He couldn’t bring himself to hate her. After the initial shock and revulsion had worn off, he realized, hell, she was human. She had needs. He might fantasize about her when he was with Elise, but at least he found his release.

No, he didn’t hate her. But he was very, very disappointed.

She needed to know the truth about her boyfriend. But Bill wouldn’t be the one to tell her. He’d let the cops give her the bad news.

But to do that they’d have to know about Rosko themselves.

As Rosko drove away, Bill wrote down his license plate number.

•

Where have all the phone booths gone? Bill wondered as he cruised what appeared to be Marblehead’s main drag. Cell phones had put them on the endangered species list.

He wanted no chance that his call would be traced, and figured it would carry more weight if it came from Kaplan’s own town.

Finally he spotted a booth and pulled into the curb half a block past it. He opened his umbrella and hurried through the downpour.

When he reached it he pulled out the memo slip with the police number, plunked in a couple of coins, and dialed. Once connected, he asked to speak to the detective in charge of the Kaplan murder. Seconds later a soft voice came on the line.

“
Detective Winters
.”

“Yes, detective. I just heard the terrible news about Doctor Kaplan and I just had to call.”

“
What is it, Mister …?”

“I-I’d rather not give my name. I don’t want to get involved, but I think you should know about the strange car parked in Doctor Kaplan’s driveway last night.”

“
Strange how?”

“Well, Gerald isn’t a social man and never—well, almost never—has company.”

“
Really.”
The detective’s tone shifted from bored to interested. “
Can you give me any details?”

“Not many, I’m afraid. I know it was an SUV—an Explorer, I think. And it was a dark color. As to whether it was black or dark blue, I’m afraid I can’t say.”

“
Did you happen to notice the plates?”

“Yes. I’d first thought maybe a relative was visiting from out of state, but then I saw it was a Massachusetts plate.”

“
Can you remember anything, anything at all about the number?
”

“Well, I have a near-photographic memory, but I wasn’t paying all that much attention. The best I can recall it started with 789 and ended—I think—with something like L-V-E.”

Rosko’s plate actually began with 739, but Bill didn’t want his recall to seem too prefect.

“
This might prove very helpful
,” the detective said. “
Where can I reach you if I have any further questions?”

Bill hung up and walked back to his car. Once inside and back in traffic he laughed aloud.

Everything was working so perfectly. Like the string-puller Supreme, he was the Piper who’d chosen the tune and now everyone was dancing to it, whether they liked it or not—whether they heard it or not. He was back in control.

“Want some more fries?” Coog said, extending the bag across the Explorer’s center console.

Paul hadn’t been able to sit around the house any longer, so he and Coog had taken in a movie—the Rock’s latest puncher-upper—and stopped at a Wendy’s. Coog had brought along his leftover fries for the ride home.

“Just a couple.”

Paul snagged three and stuffed them in his mouth.

At least something was good.

He had long since given up hope that this would all go away. He’d left Kaplan’s with a pit on his stomach. But also a sense of relief. He
had
fathered this child. And like Kaplan said, he was alive and healthy with his memory unchanged, so what else really mattered? But the rest of the world might not feel the same way. Certainly Sheila wouldn’t. What Kaplan’s therapy had done to the patients was unintentional. But not VecGen or Tethys. They knew the therapy would change the patients’ DNA and didn’t bother to tell them. Didn’t they think the public would figure it out eventually?

If Kaplan hadn’t been killed, Paul might have tried to talk Sheila into running off with him, to a new state, to swear off looking into Tethys and VecGen and just pretend it never happened. Turn a blind eye to all the patients. But if he ran, he’d look guilty. And Sheila would never let this go.

So what was his plan? Besides continuing to look for evidence against VecGen and IV and trying not to get killed … hoping Sheila could play it cool at work …