Megan's Cure (26 page)

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Authors: Robert B. Lowe

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Medical, #Thrillers

BOOK: Megan's Cure
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Chapter 50

 
 

BY THE TIME that Enzo Lee was released from the hospital, it was late in the afternoon.
 
He had had a small lunch at the USF hospital, headlined by chicken noodle soup and strawberry jello.
 
Although he felt fine, the doctors were cautious, wanting to ensure whatever paralyzing agent had been used on him would have no delayed effects.

 

On his way out, Lee stopped at Megan Kim’s room.
 
He introduced himself to a patrolman sitting outside.
 
The cop made him find the head nurse on the floor to confirm his identity.
 
He then explained that Megan had been taken into the hospital basement for X-rays or some other scanning procedure.
 
Another officer – a police woman – had accompanied her.
 
Megan now had at least two – and sometimes more – SFPD officers assigned to her at all times.
 
After the death of a colleague, Lee guessed that the level of police vigilance would be at an all time high.

 

Although Megan was gone, Walter Novak was sitting in her room waiting for her return.
 
The scientist sat staring out the picture window at the residential district beyond, sloping down toward the San Francisco downtown skyline in the distance.

 

“Walter,” said Lee.

 

Novak slowly turned toward him.
 
His face was slack.
 
Eyes dull.
 
His hair was even more askew than normal.
 
He had shaved unevenly.
 

 

“Are you okay?” asked Lee.

 

“Am I okay? Am I okay?”
 
said Novak.
 
“How are you?
 
After your close brush.”

 

“I’m great…now,” said Lee.
 
“I was very lucky.
 
But you look like…well…you look like crap, Walter.”

 

Novak stared down at his hands.

 

“I’m tired…just so tired,” he said.
 
“Haven’t been sleeping well.
 
I’d been talking with my lawyers.
 
They are keeping up this…this unrelenting assault.
 
I’ve lost track of the lawsuits.
 
The press conferences.
 
They’re threatening…I don’t know.
 
Criminal charges.
 
They’re talking about forcing me to go to Louisiana.”

 

“They’re desperate, Walter,” said Lee.
 
“They’re losing control.
 
They’re lashing out however they can at this stage.
 
I told you this would happen.
 
We need to stand up to them.
 
Otherwise, they’ll crush you.
 
They’ll crush Megan.
 
We’re in a war here.”

 

Walter nodded.
 
He glanced up, held Lee’s eyes for a second, and then looked down at the floor again.

 

“I know…I know…I know,” he said, his voice trailing off.

 

Lee left Novak to await Megan’s return, picked up his car from the hospital garage and drove the few miles to his home.
 
He parked in the street-level garage at the bottom of the double-decker Victorian that held his flat.
 
He was starving, so he walked the three blocks to his favorite take out place on the edge of Chinatown.

 

 
He ordered wonton soup with shrimp, snow peas, chicken and barbecued pork.
 
He also got an order of sliced beef with broccoli, water chestnuts and black mushrooms as well as a box of steamed rice.
 
He recognized his desire for the comfort food of his youth after a day that had come perilously close to being his last on earth.
 
He also needed to regroup and get his head around everything.

 

Lee let himself into the stairwell that led up to his flat.
 
He pushed his cat, Max, back inside the front door and put the bag of Chinese food on his dining table.
 
He fed Max first and then got out a plate, fork and a big spoon.
 
He ate the soup directly from the container, barely looking at it as he stared at a wall that still held the framed poster of a ballerina in mid-spin.
 
A peasant’s skirt billowing around her.
 
It had been Carr’s.
 
She gave it to him when she moved back East.

 

Novak had looked shaky.
 
Lee felt sorry for the scientist and he understood the intense pressure he felt.
 
But the last thing he needed was to have the man whose brilliant research had set everything in motion flame out at this stage.
 
He needed to help him however he could.
 
Try to shore him up somehow.

 

And then there was Lee’s grandmother.
 
She was part of the mix now.
 
The clock was ticking.
 
He only had eight days to get more Roxaten for her.

 

 
If the drug was effective in halting her cancer, his grandmother would be the second person to receive the course of treatment.
 
If Megan was Exhibit A in the story of the medicine’s effectiveness, his grandmother could soon be Exhibit B.
 
He knew Ming Wah Choy would not tell anyone about his grandmother’s treatment and he would keep it quiet as long as he could as well.
 
But there was no doubt that the treatment that might save her life could also endanger her.
 
The stakes kept getting higher.
 

 

 
Now there was a dead cop, killed while trying to protect Megan Kim.
 
That totally changed the dynamic.
 
No one could view this now as just a scientific debate or corporate intrigue, and dismiss his and Novak’s fears as paranoia.
 
He was sorry about the patrolman, Mendoza, but the total involvement of Connors and the rest of the SFPD would help.
 
It might be decisive.
 
But the wheels of justice often moved slowly.
 
The criminal investigation could take a while.
 
And Lee didn’t have the luxury of time.
 

 

He set down the won ton soup, now half gone, and left the rest of the food sitting on the table.
 
He picked up the telephone, consulted his reporter’s notebook on his nearby desk and dialed a number.

 

“Hello?” said Roxanne Rosewell.

 

“Roxanne.
 
This is Enzo Lee.”

 

“Yes.
 
Hello.
 
You’ve been creating quite a stir, I see.”

 

Lee breathed out a long sigh.
 
Total exhaustion was setting in.

 

“You don’t know the half of it,” he said.
 
“Listen.
 
I think…I think Walter needs you.
 
Can you come over right now?”

 

“Of course.”
   

 

Chapter 51

 
 

ENZO LEE WAS working on his second cup of coffee when he heard the door to the second bedroom open, footsteps walking down the hall, and then the door to the bathroom click shut.

 

He had gotten up an hour earlier.
 
He bought croissants and scones at Café Trieste and a dozen eggs at the corner convenience store on the way back.
 
The pastries were on the dining table.
 
The eggs sat in a large bowl on the counter next to the stove.
 
With a wooden spoon, Lee pushed sliced onions and mushrooms sautéing in olive oil and wine around a frying pan.
 

 

He heard Rosewell behind him and he turned to see her.

 

She had on the same thick button-up sweater and long skirt she had worn when she arrived the previous night.
 
She carried herself with the same elegance he remembered from their first meeting at her house and that he now realized was her natural state.

 

“Coffee?” he said, nodding to a pot filled with strong, black Sumatra.
 

 

“Perfect,” she said.

 

“And scrambled eggs if you’re game,” he added.
 

 

“Yumm.”

 

Lee cracked the eggs, scrambled them and poured them on top of the onions and mushrooms.
 
He took a block of aged Parmesan out of the refrigerator and grated a small mound on top of the eggs.
 
Rosewell stood quietly with her arms crossed. She held a mug of coffee in one hand and watched Lee continue to work the eggs.

 

“How is he?” said Lee finally.

 

“He’s sleeping…which is good,” she said.
 
“When he gets this way and he stops sleeping as well, everything is compounded.
 
He can spiral very quickly.”

 

“I noticed,” said Lee.
 
He sprinkled some pepper over the eggs, carried the frying pan over to the table and spooned the contents onto two plates.
 
He put the pan back on the stove and they sat down at the table.
 
They ate in silence for a minute.

 

“He didn’t ask you to call me, did he?” asked Rosewell.

 

“No.”

 

“Why did you?”
 
she asked.

 

 
Lee shrugged.

 

“The man names his life’s work after you, I figure that means something,” he said.
 
“And just things you and he said.
 
I think he said you were his ‘contact with reality’ or something like that.
 
Plus I was desperate.”
 

 

Rosewell smiled.
 

 

“I’m glad you did,” she said.
 
“I wish he’d call me when he gets this way.
 
If I’m around to see it, I can help.
 
If I’m not…well he can go somewhere deep and scary.
 
It can be hard to reach him.”

 

Lee nodded.

 

“You know,” he said.
 
“I like Walter.
 
I mean obviously he’s a smart guy and impressive.
 
All of his work and all that.
 
But he seems…I don’t know…like a real
mensch
.
 
You know?”
 

 

Rosewell suddenly burst into tears.
 
Lee grabbed a box of Kleenex and put it in front of her.
 

 

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing a handful of tissues and blowing her nose. “Dammit!”

 

“It’s okay,” said Lee.

 

“A ‘mensch,’” she murmured.
 
“He is.
 
He truly is.
 
God.
 
I should have married him 12 years ago.”

 

“Really?” said Lee.
 
“You were close to that?”

 

Rosewell nodded.
 
Her gaze shifted away from Lee and out the kitchen window.

 

“Engaged…or agreed anyway,” she said.
 
“It’s not as if he got down on his knee.
 
But, we were going to…and…and I couldn’t go through with it.
 
Got cold feet.
 
He’d had some episodes.
 
Like this or worse.
 
And…I just couldn’t.
 
I was afraid to commit…to commit to dealing with that.”

 

“That’s understandable,” said Lee.

 

“But I didn’t realize how much I loved him,” she said, looking back at Lee.
 
“And that I would be with him anyway.
 
I should have seen it.
 
Instead, it was as if he was close…coming into shore finally.
 
And then I pushed him back out…back out into… Oh, God.”

 

Rosewell was in tears again.
 
She grabbed another handful of tissues.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said.
 
“I know you’ve got a tremendous amount on your plate.
 
And…uh…you don’t need a woman in tears.”

 

“Listen,” said Lee.
 
“I hate to think how he would be without you. From what I’ve seen, he’s lucky to have you in his life.
 
I mean marriage…who knows how that would have gone?”

 

Rosewell nodded as she politely blew her nose again.

 

“Thank you for saying that,” she said.
 
“Well, it’s done now.
 
All we have is the here and now…not what might have been.”

 

“Right,” said Lee.
 
“Let’s be honest, Roxanne.
 
We’ve got a ‘situation’ here.
 
It’s a bad time for Walter to check out of it.
 
I don’t think he has to be out in public defending Roxaten.
 
But he should be available if questions arise over Megan’s tests or anything of that sort. And, let’s face it, a lot of this rests on him.
 
If he appears unreliable, it makes it hard to overcome the doubts about Roxaten.”

 

“He’s overwhelmed,” said Rosewell. “There is so much coming at him and with the publicity, the condemnation, all the nastiness…it’s no surprise that he’s breaking down.
 
Let me take him to stay with me.
 
I can deal with everything for a while.
 
The lawyers.
 
The researchers.
 
Doctors.
 
He trusts me.
 
I’ve been doing this for a long time…being the buffer between Walter and the world.
 
Let’s give him a couple of days. I think he’ll be better with some rest.
 
This kind of battle…it’s not his strength.”

 

“Yes.
 
I know that,” said Lee.
 
“If I could speed it up or bring it to a close somehow, I would.”

 

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