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Authors: Robin Cook

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense

Cure (28 page)

BOOK: Cure
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All of a sudden Ben felt a bit less anxious, even though the documents had not been signed by the wife. He thought there was a reasonably good chance Saboru Fukuda, with Vinnie Dominick’s encouragement, could have the needed signature faked, as well as an inkan seal. He smiled at his paranoia. Next he looked at the wife’s will. That could be faked as well, if needed, making Ben both trustee and guardian. With a comforting exhale, Ben realized if the worst-case scenario was to occur and something untoward was to happen to Satoshi with or without his wife, iPS USA would not find itself out in the cold vis-à-vis the license agreement.

Shigeru would own them, and Ben would be the trustee.

Snatching up the legal papers, Ben passed from his office into Jacqueline’s. “I’d like you to put these papers in the safe,” he said. “Put them with Satoshi’s lab books.”

169

“Will do!” Jacqueline responded while covering the telephone mouthpiece with her left hand.

“What’s my schedule for today?” Ben asked. He’d been so preoccupied with working himself up over Satoshi and the new opportunity represented by iPS

RAPID, he’d completely forgotten his planned schedule for the day. Of course, forgetting his agenda was hardly unusual for Ben.

“It’s blank,” Jacqueline said. “Do you remember telling me not to schedule today because of your race in the morning? You said you wanted to leave early. I took you at your word.”

“I remember now,” Ben said happily, like a teenager hearing that school had been canceled.

With a spring back in his step, Ben returned to his desk. He was looking forward to the race in the morning as the official beginning of his training for the Hawaiian Ironman event on the fifth of June. Picking up the top magazine from the newly constituted biomedical journal stack, Ben eased back and lifted his legs. He was just getting comfortable when the phone rang. It was Clair out at the reception desk with the message that Michael Calabrese was on the line.

With considerably less anxiousness than he’d felt when he’d put in the call, Ben answered.

“I know you called, but I have some possibly good news,” Michael said eagerly.

“Remember I mentioned that there was another potential angel investor for iPS

USA.”

“Of course,” Ben said.

“Well, he’s heard of the contract signing we had with Satoshi through Vinnie Dominick and he wants in. He already called me this morning and said he wants in to the same degree as Dominick and Fukuda. Since I didn’t want to piss those guys off, I called and asked if they minded, since it will dilute them, but they don’t mind. The reality is you guys are sitting on a lot more capital today than you were yesterday.”

“It’s coming at a good time, as we are actually considering making an offer for iPS RAPID in San Diego instead of just negotiating a licensing agreement. We think there’s a good chance they might jump at an offer.”

“Well, whatever you decide, the money will be there,” Michael said. “Now, I 170

know you called me, so what’s up?”

“I was calling you about Satoshi,” Ben said. “I haven’t seen him since he signed the contract.”

“Is that unusual?”

“I suppose not. One time he disappeared on a trip to Niagara Falls without telling me, and Carl said that he mentioned to him he was thinking of taking his family to Washington, D.C.”

“Did you try to call him?”

“Of course. Many times.”

“Did you try to call him when he went to Niagara Falls?”

“I did, and he didn’t answer then, either.”

“Then I wouldn’t worry. He wants to get away once in a while and celebrate his liberation. He told me when he first arrived at the signing the day before yesterday that what he liked best about living in America is the freedom to do what he wanted rather than always doing what was expected of him.”

“But I had specifically asked him the day of the signing to either come to the office or call me the following day, yesterday, because he had reminded me to find laboratory space for him, which I have now done. He was also to pick up some documents for his wife to sign, but he never showed up or called. He hasn’t even shown up today, at least not so far.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound worrisome to me, if that’s what you are asking.”

“I suppose not,” Ben agreed. “But it makes me uncomfortable. What I was going to ask you was to get in touch with Vinnie Dominick and ask where Vinnie and his guys had placed Satoshi and his family. You said it’s probably one of their collection of safe houses.”

“That was my understanding.”

“Would you mind asking for me? I’d like the address and the phone number, if there is one. I’ll feel better if I know how to get in touch with him if need be, and he’s not answering his cell. I certainly would not tell anyone.”

“They don’t like to reveal any of their safe houses for obvious reasons, the main 171

being because it’s then no longer a safe house. I know Satoshi was told under no uncertain terms not to reveal where he was temporarily living. I know Fukuda-san is arranging more permanent housing. Anyway, I’ll ask and explain your reasons. I mean, they are already entrusting you with a heck of a lot of their hard-earned money. I can’t see why they wouldn’t trust you with the address of one of their safe houses.”

“It will let me sleep better,” Ben confessed.

20

MARCH 26, 2010

FRIDAY, 9:40 a.m.

T
he floater had taken more time than Laurie had originally imagined, because the autopsy required tracing more than a dozen bullet tracks through the victim’s body, the majority through the chest and abdomen. Most had hit against bone and were diverted, but some had pierced the body through and through.

About midway through the case, Lou had decided he’d learned all he was going to learn and left. So it was Laurie and Vinnie who had slogged through, painstakingly following each shot and gathering bullets and bullet fragments as they progressed.

At first Laurie had tried to bring Vinnie out of his apparent funk by actively attempting to get him to participate in the dissection, but she eventually gave up. Instead, with the part of her brain she didn’t need to devote to the physical work, she tried to imagine how the previous day’s case could be related to the case she was doing. Could it be some sort of vengeance killing? There was no way to know. Besides, Laurie was the first to question whether there was a relationship or not, and she found herself progressively eager to find out. What was going to make her more confident was to study the photo she’d made and view the security tape again, holding a photo of the current case to compare.

Even then she knew she probably was not going to be one hundred percent certain but maybe certain enough to question its potential meaning. Laurie thought seriously that one of the pursuers in the security tapes she’d watched at home was the man she was autopsying at that very moment. But she was being realistic. It was never that easy to identify people, especially looking at a photo or a film of a live person as compared to a corpse that had been floating around in the river.

The one thing Laurie was particularly thankful for was Jack’s sensitivity. She 172

knew he knew that it had to be the security tapes where she’d seen the floater, but he didn’t push her on the issue. Instead, he’d respected her wish to do the legwork on her own and gain professional confidence by going so.

“Thank you for helping me on this case,” Laurie said to Vinnie, preparing to help him lift the body onto the gurney. “I’m sorry it was so long.”

“No problem,” Vinnie answered, but without emotion.

“Now I want to ask another favor.”

Vinnie looked expectantly at Laurie without speaking.

“If there’s a table available, I’d like you to bring out my unidentified case from yesterday. I want to repeat the external exam.”

Vinnie didn’t respond.

“Did you hear me?” Laurie questioned with a hint of pique. She was now certain he was not acting like himself. He was even avoiding eye contact.

“I heard you,” Vinnie said. “When there’s a table available, I’ll bring it out.”

“On three,” Laurie said, holding the floater’s ankles. She then counted, and together they shifted the corpse off the table and onto the gurney. She then walked away without another comment.

Laurie stopped by Jack’s table on her way out. “It looks like you’ve got a child,”

Laurie said. She hung back and avoided looking directly at the preteen girl’s face.

Children, particularly infants, were always difficult for Laurie, despite her active attempt to be professional and to keep emotion from her work.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Jack said. “And a rather heartbreaking case as well, so to speak. Do you want to hear?”

“I suppose,” Laurie said, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

Jack picked up the child’s heart from a tray and opened the edges of a slice he’d made to view a porcine aortic valve replacement. “A suture became loose after the initially successful replacement and got tangled in the valve. One suture out of a hundred! It’s a tragedy for everybody: the surgeon, the parents, but of course, mostly for the child.”

“I hope that surgeon can learn from his or her mistake.”

173

“That’s the hope,” Jack said. “He’s certainly going to hear about it. Are you off to work on yesterday’s case?”

“I am,” Laurie said.

“Good luck!”

“Thanks for not pushing me earlier to explain myself.”

“You’re welcome. But I’m getting awfully curious and want to hear about what you’ve got by the end of today. I’m assuming your watching the security tapes last night was a lot more fruitful than I had imagined.”

“They were interesting,” Laurie teased. “On another subject, Vinnie is not acting at all like himself today.”

“Really? That sounds very unlike Vinnie. I did notice he called me Dr. Stapleton when I stopped at your table. It’s usually something a lot more derisive.”

“Maybe it’s me, as I did deliberately hijack him this morning. But I did give him the option to wait and work with you.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Jack said as Laurie moved on.

Laurie removed her Tyvek coveralls in the locker room and disposed of them before heading upstairs in her scrubs. The first stop was Sergeant Murphy’s office, where she turned over the information she had involving the pickpocket episode seen on the security tape. Then she asked about John Doe.

“I haven’t heard a damn thing about your case from yesterday,” the sergeant confessed. “But I expect to hear something today. If I don’t, I’ll give Missing Persons a call myself. If they’d received any calls about a missing Asian male, they would have let me know.”

Laurie thanked the sergeant before climbing a flight of stairs and dropping in on Hank Monroe, the director of identification in the anthropology department.

Laurie knocked on the closed door. It seemed that Hank, in contrast to most everyone else, preferred his privacy.

Hank Monroe was no more help than Sergeant Murphy had been, saying that the Missing Persons Squad had admitted they had yet to run the victim’s fingerprints on any local database, much less on the state or federal level. “As I believe I told you yesterday, they usually wait at least twenty-four hours or so, because the 174

vast number of cases are solved by someone calling in within that time period.

But as soon as I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

From the director of identification’s office, Laurie went up to toxicology and stopped in to see John DeVries. “So far the screen for drugs, poisons, or toxins has shown absolutely nothing,” John said with an apologetic tone. “I’m sorry.

You did get the essentially negative blood alcohol, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Laurie said. “And I appreciate you making the effort to do it so quickly.”

“We’re happy to help,” John said in his new persona. “But I want to emphasize that just because the toxicology screen is so far negative, it doesn’t necessarily mean there is none present. With some of the more potent agents, so little is needed to kill someone that the only way to identify it is to look for it specifically.

What I’m trying to suggest is that if you have any reason to suspect a specific agent, you have to tell us, and we’ll specially look for it. Even then we can’t guarantee success, even with the trick of running the sample through the mass spec twice.”

“I understand,” Laurie said, and she did. She had been involved in several poisonings over the years. One had involved finding the agent at the crime scene, the other by discovering evidence that the perpetrator had purchased the material. But in her current case, neither of those opportunities was available.

“We’re not totally finished,” John added. “If we find something, I’ll be sure to give you a call.”

Next Laurie went down to the fourth floor and entered the histology lab, bracing herself for Maureen O’Conner’s invariable humor. She was not disappointed, nor was she disappointed about getting her slides overnight. As usual, Maureen came through with both.

Descending yet another floor, Laurie entered her office, eager to get to work. In order not to be bothered, she shut her door, which she rarely did. Next she deposited the tray of histology slides next to her microscope and turned on her monitor.

Her final act of preparing to get to work was to take out her cell phone and give Leticia a call. She actually felt proud of the fact that she’d resisted calling until almost ten. She thought it showed marked restraint, at least in comparison to the previous day. Leticia agreed.

“I’m surprised you didn’t call earlier,” Leticia said teasingly when she first answered.

175

“I’m surprised myself. How are things going?”

“Couldn’t be better. We’re staying in this morning, then going out to the park this afternoon. The sun is supposed to come out after noon.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Laurie said. While she had been talking to Leticia, she’d gotten out the photo she’d made from the security tapes and compared it to the photo in the new case file. It seemed that there was a definite resemblance between the man she’d just autopsied and one of the men in the photo. Actually, more than she expected.

BOOK: Cure
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