Whiteout (38 page)

They laughed, and Craig flushed. He had never told anyone about
the
first
time he had dented the car. Only Sophie knew. He was still embarrassed and guilty about it. He thought he might confess when he was really old, like thirty or something.

“Enough of the past,” said Grandpa. “Let's drink a toast. Merry Christmas, everybody.”

They all said, “Merry Christmas.”

Sophie came in as the first course was being served. She looked wonderful. She had put her hair up and wore small dangling earrings. She looked so mature, at least twenty. Craig's mouth went dry at the thought that she was his girl.

As she passed his chair, she stooped and whispered in his ear, “Miranda gave me some condoms.”

He was so surprised that he spilled his champagne. “What?”

“You heard,” she said, and she took her seat.

He smiled at her. He had his own supply, of course. Funny old Aunt Miranda.

Grandpa said, “What are you grinning at, Craig?”

“Just happy, Grandpa,” he said. “That's all.”

I was privileged to visit two laboratories with BSL4 facilities. At the Canadian Science Center for Animal and Human Health in Winnipeg, Manitoba, I was helped by Stefan Wagener, Laura Douglas, and Kelly Keith; and at the Health Protection Agency in Colindale, London, by David Brown and Emily Collins. Further advice on BSL4 laboratories and procedures came from Sandy Ellis and George Korch.

On security and biosecurity I was advised by Keith Crowdy, Mike Bluestone, and Neil McDonald. For insight into possible police responses to biohazards, I talked to Assistant Chief Constable Norma Graham, Superintendent Andy Barker, and Inspector Fiona Barker, all of the Central Scotland Police in Stirling.

On gambling I spoke to Anthony Holden and Daniel Meinertzhagen, and I was permitted to read the typescript of David Anton's book
Stacking the Deck: Beating America's Casinos at Their Own Game.

Many of the above experts were located for me by Daniel Starer of Research for Writers in New York City.

For comments on drafts of the book, I'm grateful to my editors Leslie Gelbman, Phyllis Grann, Neil Nyren, and Imogen Tate; to my agents Al Zuckerman and Amy Berkower; to Karen Studsrud; and to my family, especially Barbara Follett, Emanuele Follett, Greig Stewart, Jann Turner, and Kim Turner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's Imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

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