_Wednesday, April 8
7:40 P.M.
_
Stone was deeply troubled as he entered the elevator to return to the
lobby. He had promised Ally he'd stay by her side and now he'd let her
down. Was this the best he could do? He felt like he had to earn the
right to be back in her life, but he seemed to be making a slow start.
But he wasn't about to leave the premises until he knew she was okay.
Hoping for the best, he reminded himself that although Van de Vliet was
wound pretty tight, he clearly was more than competent. The problem
was, he'd just offered a transparent song and dance when Ally asked him
about Kristen. Now it was easy to understand why she'd said she didn't
know whether to believe a word he said. But that didn't necessarily
preclude him being a Nobel Prize-quality medical genius.
In any case, to finally be inside the Dorian Institute was a major coup
in his own quest. Up until now, Bartlett's press heavies at BMD had
turned back his every attempt to get a first-hand look at the institute
or an interview with Karl Van de Vliet. Now, at last, he'd actually
seen the man.
So . . . after he visited with Ally's mother upstairs--which ought to be
interesting, an actual patient interview--he was going to try to keep a
low profile and scout the place. Maybe he could finally talk his way
into an interview with the celebrated Van de Vliet himself, or at least
with some of his research staff. This was definitely the break he'd
been waiting for. Finally he'd have some actual reporting to put in the
book.
When he stepped off the elevator, he noticed that the uniformed
security guard looked him over suspiciously. He and Alexa had been
waved through the metal detector when they came in, owing to the
urgency of her condition. Now he felt as though the guard, a tall,
middle-aged black guy with thinning hair, was trying to frisk him with
his penetrating eyes.
Stone smiled and nodded toward him and headed for the desk in the
middle of the reception area. Around him a number of patients were
ambling through the lobby, returning from a room in the back that was
identified as DINING HALL. Some were wearing blue gowns, and most appeared
to be in their sixties and seventies. But they all were sprightly and
animated as they walked along chatting. Somehow the place felt more
like a vacation spa than a clinic. He'd like nothing better than to sit
them all down right this minute for an interview. "How has the Gerex
stem cell procedure affected your condition? Have you had any side
effects?" But to do that without official permission would undoubtedly
get him evicted on the spot.
He took a deep breath and walked over to the reception desk.
"Hi."
The woman looked up. She was the same middle-aged Hispanic nurse with
bold eye makeup who was there when they came in. "Hi. How's your friend
feeling?"
"Actually, she's my cousin, and I don't know how she's doing because
they kicked . . . sent me up here. But she gave me a mission to keep me
occupied."
"Well," the woman declared with a smile, "I'm sure she'll be fine. Dr.
Van de Vliet is a miracle worker."
"So everyone says." He smiled back. "My cousin asked me to look in on
her mother. Nina Hampton. She is, or was, in two-thirteen."
"Mrs. Hampton is your aunt?"
"Uh, yeah, right." Whoops. Get this act together. "Funny, but I always
just think of her as my cousin Ally's mother. My own weird way to look
at it, I guess. I don't really know her all that well."
Things are not getting off to a great start, he told himself. I don't
even believe me.
"Visits to patients, except by those on a pre-established list, require
a photo ID."
"Well, let's get started." He reached for his wallet and withdrew a
driver's license. He made sure his press card was well out of sight.
Keep this dumb and innocent as long as possible, he told himself.
She glanced at the driver's license, then pointed to the sign-in sheet.
"Just sign your name and print it and then also print your relationship
to the patient. I have to say this is unusual. There are regular
visiting hours and guests are normally approved in advance by Mrs.
Young, who's in charge of security. But you came in under extraordinary
circumstances, with Ms. Hampton, and you're already here, so I don't
see the harm."
He signed himself in as quickly as possible.
"Mrs. Hampton is still in room two-thirteen."
"I'll show myself up."
"Please keep it under fifteen minutes. We don't want to tire her out.
You understand."
"Thanks. I really appreciate this. My cousin Ally likes to get an
update on"--he realized he had momentarily blocked her mother's name--
"her mom as often as possible."
He headed for the elevator, trying to contain his excitement. The idea
was to keep this as below the radar as possible. Was he about to crack
the wall of secrecy that Winston Bartlett had erected around Karl Van
de Vliet and the Gerex Corporation?
Just as the elevator door was closing, he saw a figure emerge through
the security entryway. The man clicked a memory-moment from somewhere
in the far-distant past, but he couldn't place him. As best he could
tell, the guy didn't see him.
Just keep moving. Don't look back
As he stepped off the elevator onto the second floor, the pale marble
floors were lit by small bulbs along the walls. This was a place where
medical miracles were supposedly being made to happen and yet it was
lit only with a ghostly half-light. The sounds of televisions emanated
from several of the rooms.
The nurse's station at the end of the hall was empty, which added to
the sense of a surreptitious undertaking.
He walked quickly to room 213 and tapped lightly on the door. When he
heard a bold "Yes?" from inside, he opened it and entered.
He hadn't seen Nina Hampton in almost two decades, but she looked
pretty much the way he remembered her. Her hair was surely dyed now,
but her face was as square and strong as ever. She was reading a
paperback book with a tide that appeared to be Spanish. She looked up
and stared at him for a moment, adjusting her glasses.
"Hello, Stone. That is you, isn't it? You're older but you're still a
hell of a looker. How did you get in here? Is Ally here too? I haven't
seen her since this morning."
"Mrs. Hampton, don't tell me you recognize me."
"Of course I do. When you and Ally were . . . going out, I confess I
didn't hold out much hope that you'd ever amount to anything, but I've
been a fan of your columns for a long time. Though it took me a while
to put it together that that newspaper writer I liked so much was you,
the man I didn't think was ambitious enough for my daughter." She
appraised him a moment. "Does this mean you two are together again?"
Good question, he thought. And I don't have a clue about the answer.
"I wish I knew. Why don't you ask her the next time you see her?" He
smiled and walked over. "She wanted me to come up and see how you're
doing."
"Come up? Is she here now? When she came to say goodbye this morning, I
got the impression that she wanted both of us just to get out of here.
But I told her that was silly. I'm already feeling so much better."
"Really. Well, she's downstairs now and she'll be happy to hear that."
He walked over and smiled. "Mrs. Hampton, I came along with her this
time to keep an eye on her. Hope you don't mind."
"Of course not."
"And there's another reason I'm here. I want to warn you. I'm writing a
book about stem cell procedures and anything you say to me about your
treatment could well end up in it. So don't tell me anything you don't
want everybody to hear about."
"Are you really writing a book about Dr. Vee?" She beamed. "That's
wonderful! He's a saint. Everyone here says so. He deserves a special
place in heaven."
This is great, Stone thought. I've got my own Deep Throat.
"Then could I ask you what you know about what he did and how you think
you've improved."
"I don't really understand what he's doing, but I do know what is
happening to me. It's as though my mind was full of fog a lot of the
time, but now there's a wind that's blowing it away."
"And how--"
A shaft of light from the hallway pierced across the room as the door
opened. Stone turned to see the man he'd first noticed in the lobby.
The man walked past him and marched over to the bed.
"Hi, how're you feeling?"
"I'm touched." Her visage immediately hardened "It's thoughtful of you
to finally come by and favor your mother with a visit."
That's who he is, Stone finally realized. Ally's kid brother.
In his few dealings with the wiseass brat that Ally used to rant about--
what was the kid's name . . . right, Grant--he'd found him devious and
pompous. He was particularly deft at cutting ethical corners and using
other people any way he could
"Stone," Nina Hampton said gesturing toward Grant, "this is--"
"I know exactly who he is," Grant said turning around to face Stone.
"W.B. has put out an all-points alert for you, pal. You've got a hell
of a nerve weaseling your way in here. But not to worry. You won't be
here long."
"I won't have you talking that way in my presence, young man," Nina
declared "Whatever else you may be, I thought I'd raised you to have a
civil tongue in your head"
Grant replied without taking his eyes off Stone. "He lied to the front
desk, Nina. He signed in as Ally's cousin. And that twit-brain down
there let him get away with it. He got up here by using a lie. Now what
does that tell you about him?"
"It tells me he's creative. This man came with your sister. He's
helping take care of her, which is more than can be said about her own
brother."
"This creep is a newspaper reporter, Nina. He's here to spy. He's
planning to do a hatchet job on the Gerex Corporation, and Mr. Bartlett
has expressly forbidden anyone to speak to him"
"I'm not in your corporation, Son, so I guess it's all right for me
then."
"You signed a secrecy agreement with Gerex when you entered the
clinical trials. Now maybe you don't remember it, but you did" He
turned to Stone. "Nice try, amigo. Now come on, let's go."
"You know, Grant, I remember you," Stone said "Not very nice
recollections."
"And I remember you too, pal. You were that screwed-up journalism
student Ally dated for a while. Thank God she got rid of you."
"Sounds like we were awash in mutual admiration," Stone said.
"Tell you what. Are we gonna continue this touching reunion outside, or
do I have to call for security and take your trespassing ass out of
here in handcuffs? It's entirely up to you."
"Grant, I see no reason why I can't talk to him if I want," Nina
interjected "Who I talk to or what I say is nobody's business but
mine."
"You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me," Grant declared. "So I have
a little say-so too." He turned back. "Come on, pal. We're gone."
I'm screwed, Stone told himself. But what about Ally? If I get kicked
out, I'll really be leaving her completely defenseless.
"Mrs. Hampton, thank you for letting me check up on you," he said
quietly. "Alexa is downstairs. I think her procedure is starting
whether she's ready for it or not. You seem very alert, and if I were
you, I'd try to monitor her . . . progress as closely as you can."
"Don't worry," Grant said. "I'll be keeping close tabs on her. And now
let's go."
With no option short of killing him on the spot, Stone followed along,
seething. This little creep obviously works for Winston Bartlett--he
wished Ally had warned him about that. Grant was bound to have shown up
at some point.
They went down the marble staircase and Grant signaled the security
man, who leaped up and opened the front door for them. He probably got
a tongue-lashing from Grant, Stone told himself.
As they stepped onto the wide porch, dusk all around them, Grant turned
and headed toward the south end and a long wooden bench.
"Want to tell me what the hell's going on?" he said gesturing toward
the bench and then sitting down. "W.B. said you claimed to be writing a
book about this project. If that's true, then it's a seriously bad
idea. You have no idea what he's capable of if he gets pissed."
"Oh, I think I'm getting a rough idea, but I'm a little pissed too,"
Stone said, remaining standing. "For example, there's the matter of
Kristen Starr. You see, she was terminated from the clinical trials
approximately three months back. So I was wondering, when is Van de
Vliet planning to report her current condition to the NIH?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." His startled voice said
otherwise.
"Oh, I think you do. I saw her today." Then he decided to bluff. "She
had an interesting tale to tell. She--"
"Shit, you interviewed Kristy? Aw, man, don't believe anything she . .
." He hesitated. "What did she say about W.B.?"
"Tell you what, we'll play twenty questions. You tell me what you think
she said and I'll tell you if you're right or not."
"Hey," Grant declared, his eyes intense, "she wanted to do it man.
Nobody put a gun to her head or anything. She was freaking out after
she got sacked. She thought Dr. Vee could fix her skin and she couldn't
wait to try it."
"You mean--"
"The Beta. Take a look at Van de Vliet. He's a walking testimonial. No
side effects for him, so why not? The worst thing that could happen
would be nothing, right? So she figured, what did she have to lose?
Well, now we all know."
"The Beta? That's...?"
"You fucker." Grant bounded to his feet. "You don't know the first
thing about what I'm talking about do you? How the fuck did you find
out about Kristen anyway?"
"I told you I spoke to her." Well, it was almost true. He'd yelled at
her. "She's very . . . unsettled just now. But I guess you know that"
"Hey, she was always fucked-up, but W.B. liked all the energy behind
that. He looked right past the eating disorders and the coke and the
late-night clubs she went to all the time. But, man, if you think she's
spaced, try her mother. That crazy--"
"Grant, why not level with me? There's something very wrong going on
here. I'm in the business of telling the truth, and I've got a keen
nose for medical horse-pucky. So how about coming clean? If it's good,
why not, and if it's bad, it's going to come out eventually anyway.
Hasn't Winston Bartlett learned anything from all the screw-ups in
Washington? It's not the situation--it's the cover-up."
"Well, I don't know what Kristy did or didn't tell you, so we're not
going in that direction. I heard about her little trip downtown this
morning. I assume that's probably when you saw her, if in fact you
actually did. Right now she's being taken care of, for her own good."
" 'Being taken care of'? So happens I had a close encounter with a
couple of her caregivers today. They're taking care of her, all right."
"Look, she used to be W.B.'s girlfriend okay? He's still very concerned
about her. Everybody's really sorry about her situation, but nobody saw
it coming. And now he's got some problems of his own."
"You seem to be pretty heavily involved with Winston Bartlett's
personal problems."
"Yeah, well, the man's been like a father to me. And I think he feels
that way too, since he doesn't have a son of his own."
Stone let the taunt just hang in the air for a moment. He mainly just
wanted to slug the smug little bastard.
"You don't know how little you know, about him or about anything.
Someday I may take the trouble to straighten you out. But right now
you're not worth the effort. All I care about at the moment is what's
going to happen to Ally."
"Everybody cares what happens to her. A lot depends on it. Dr. Vee
thinks she's our best shot"
"What . . . what the hell are you talking about?" Stone stared at him
through the twilight. "What depends on it?"
"Guess you're not as smart as you think you are." He was up and heading
for the parking lot. "Come on, pal. Time to hit the road. I'm gonna
tuck you in. This conversation is terminated. And it never happened
anyway. I'll have them unlock the gates for you."