With his hand motioning for Carlo to follow the stroller toward Central Park West, Brennan continued the phone conversation with Louie as if he wanted Louie to stay on the line and make all the decisions. But Louie, whether he sensed Brennan’s intention or not, said, “Okay, you’re on your own, and good luck. And also remember what I said earlier. Don’t do anything silly. Use your head. Don’t take any risks. There’s no need, as there is always tomorrow, even if we lose some of the benefits of doing the kidnapping. You hear what I’m saying?”
“I hear you,” Brennan assured.
“Let me hear from you when you have the child,” Louie said before disconnecting.
Brennan flipped his phone shut and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “Don’t get too close to make it look like we’re following!” he said to Carlo, who was driving.
“I know what I’m freaking doing,” Carlo snapped back. He wasn’t happy at 201
having to take orders from Brennan, especially with other people in the van. It had been a sudden, psychologically painful reversal of the status quo.
“Slow down and stop!” Brennan ordered, oblivious to Carlo’s wounded ego.
Ahead, the nanny was held up at the corner, waiting for the light to change on Central Park West. Just across the street, the park’s pedestrian entrance was bounded by walls of dark-red sandstone blocks. There were a few buds on the otherwise leafless trees. There was also some yellow forsythia in bloom.
The van waited thirty yards from the corner for the light to change. Carlo was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. In the middle seats were Chong Yong and Riki Watanabe. Although they could speak passing English, they remained silent. In the far backseats sat Duane Mackenzie and Tommaso Deluca.
They, too, were silent, intimidated by the two massively muscled men sitting in front of them.
“All right,” Brennan said. “Let’s review the plan now that we know for certain the woman and the kid are going into the park. Everyone except for Carlo will get out at the corner and follow them in, but not as a group. I’ll go ahead, and you people string out behind me like we’re all on our own. And make sure you’ve got your masks.”
Brennan twisted in his seat so as to look at the people in the back as he talked.
“It will be up to me to decide if it is a go or not, understand? I mean, the snatch might happen as soon as we’re in the park, or later, or not at all, depending on what the nanny does. Worst case, she might be meeting up with someone. If that happens, we’ll delay. Meanwhile, Carlo will be in the van nearby with the motor running. Once we have the kid, I want all of us to get into the van and get the hell out of here. Any questions?”
“What are we to do?” Riki asked.
“Good question,” Brennan said without sarcasm after a slight pause. It had been Louie who’d ordered who was going to participate. Brennan had had the same question but chose not to ask Louie, fearing Louie might not think him capable of being in charge if the answer was obvious. “You’re to be there in case something unexpected happens and we need more people,” Brennan said, at least making a stab at an answer.
“The light is changing,” Carlo called out.
Brennan turned back to face forward. “All right,” he said commandingly. “Let’s do it!” He leaped from the car, impatient to get the operation under way. As he watched the attractive black woman hustle into the park, he felt this was his 202
opportunity to prove himself to Louie.
27
MARCH 26, 2010
FRIDAY, 12:33 p.m.
W
hen Laurie got back to her office with the wine cork-sized en bloc tissue sample, she put it on her desk in full view so as not to delay getting it to John.
Meanwhile, she fell back to examining the toxicology slides. Although she was now confident that Kenji had been murdered with a toxic agent, she still felt obliged to make sure there was no pathology in the brain to explain the seizure.
After all, whatever toxin had killed him could also have been responsible for stimulating an existing pathological lesion, rather than causing the seizure inherently. It wasn’t a serious issue, but it might influence her search for the toxin if she did find something. Besides, she wanted to be both complete and accurate for what she thought was going to be a triumphal presentation to Lou and Jack, and anyone else who might like to listen.
While she methodically searched the slides, she was able to multitask by trying to come up with what the specific toxin might have been. She assumed it was a neurotoxin, as she’d decided earlier, of which there were many different kinds in snakes, scorpions, aquatic mollusks, and even certain fish. With that thought in mind, she turned away from the brain slides temporarily to go online to review neurotoxins. Because she’d come to assume her two cases were people of Japanese ancestry, the one toxin that jumped into her mind was tetrodotoxin, possibly the most infamous toxin in Japan, since it was associated with multiple episodes of illnesses and deaths in unlucky sushi and sashimi lovers. The toxin came from bacteria associated with a number of creatures, including a particular puffer fish whose flesh was considered a delicacy in Japan. The problem was that the flesh could contain tetrodotoxin at particular times of the year, whereas it is usually confined to the fish’s viscera, such as its liver and skin.
Laurie focused her search on tetrodotoxin, with the idea of seeing if it could cause convulsions when administered parenterally, meaning by injection. As she skimmed several of the articles, refreshing her general knowledge of tetrodotoxin, she recalled that it was a useful compound and was used rather extensively in medical research and even in clinical medicine. In clinical medicine it was used to treat cardiac arrhythmia and also as a pain reliever in extreme situations, such as in cases of terminal cancer and debilitating migraines. She thought this was an important issue in that it meant the drug was commercially manufactured, hence readily available. There were many other neurotoxins that 203
were quite exotic and extremely difficult to obtain.
“Yes!” Laurie suddenly said, and snapped her fingers as she read that tetrodotoxin could, when injected, cause convulsions, which wasn’t the case with the other classes of neurotoxins. Continuing on in the same article, she also was reminded of tetrodotoxin’s impressive toxicity: Two hundred-thousandths of an ounce could kill a one-hundred-and-seventy-pound person. Laurie whistled at such a figure, realizing tetrodotoxin was one hundred times more poisonous than potassium cyanide.
While marveling over tetrodotoxin’s lethality, Laurie’s eyes wandered over to the institutional clock hanging on the wall over her file cabinet. It was nearly one p.m. Knowing John DeVries would surely be back to toxicology, she grabbed the sample bottle and headed to the elevator.
When Laurie walked into John’s bright, spacious windowed corner office, which contrasted so sharply from his previous windowless cubbyhole, she could certainly understand how it could improve one’s mood. John was just donning a fresh white lab coat as she appeared at the door. His secretary had yet to return from her lunch.
For a moment Laurie just stood there, transfixed by the man’s metamorphosis.
He was still tall and thin but no longer gaunt, and his former academic pallor had been replaced with a brush of color across his cheeks, making him look ten years younger.
“Ah, Miss Laurie,” he said, catching sight of her. “I’m afraid there’s been no change from this morning: no toxins or poisons or drugs.”
“Did you run another sample?”
“Well, no,” John admitted. “Not yet. We’ve been busy with a number of overdoses from last night.”
“Well, I have some news that I’ll clue you in on,” Laurie said, dropping her voice in a playful fashion. “But you’re not to tell anyone else until I have my mini-press conference later this afternoon.”
“I promise,” John said.
Laurie went on to tell John about her discovery from the security tapes that her case represented a robbery and that she had reason to believe he’d been murdered in the process with a toxin delivered with some sort of air gun. As she expected, John was immediately intrigued.
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“You got all this from security tapes?” he asked. He was impressed.
“I did,” Laurie said. “With a dollop of inference. By the way, do you recall a famous assassination that happened in London involving a Bulgarian diplomat?
He was killed by a toxin that was shot into him by a pellet gun hidden in an umbrella.”
“Absolutely,” John said. “It was ricin. Are you suspecting your case was a copycat?”
Laurie nodded. She was impressed not only that John remembered the case but that he’d also remembered the specific agent involved. “I believe it was a copycat, to a degree.”
“Are you then suggesting we should be looking for ricin?”
“No, I don’t think ricin was involved, because the victim convulsed, and ricin does not cause seizures. But from watching security tapes, I know one of two perpetrators was carrying an umbrella. Because the subway station was so crowded, I wasn’t able to actually see the umbrella used, but after the attack, when the victim was lying on the concrete, one of the attackers appeared to partially open the umbrella and cock it to get it to fully close. My sense is that the umbrella was some kind of air gun like the one involved in the case in London.”
“What about an entrance wound?”
“Good question,” Laurie commended. “I found one today when I redid the external exam. I’m embarrassed to tell you why I didn’t find it yesterday. There’s a small entrance wound on the back of the victim’s leg at the juncture of the leg and the gluteal mass.” Laurie held up her sample. “And this is an en bloc excision of the track, which seemed to be about an inch long.”
“Perfect,” John responded. He reached out for the bottle, held it up, and glanced in at its contents. “If the agent was not ricin, do you have any idea at all what it could have been?”
“Actually, I do,” Laurie said. “I think it might have been tetrodotoxin.”
John stopped looking in at the tissue sample and switched his attention to Laurie. “Do you have any specific reason to suspect tetrodotoxin?”
“First, I think whatever was used would have had to have been a neurotoxin,”
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Laurie said. “Whatever it was, it definitely caused a convulsion. It was a short convulsion but a real one, both because it was seen by the nine-one-one caller and because I saw it on the security tape. Tetrodotoxin is known to be able to cause seizures when it is injected internally. This afternoon when I looked into neurotoxins, I didn’t notice any others associated with convulsions. Second of all, the stuff is manufactured on a regular basis, so it’s available. And third of all, and this is the least scientific, but I believe my patient is Japanese, and Japanese have a long history with the toxin, thanks to puffer fish.”
“Sounds promising,” John agreed with a laugh. “All except the last part.”
“Now for the ninety-nine-dollar question,” Laurie said. “When can we run it?”
“Why am I not surprised,” John said, humorously throwing up his hands in mock despair. “I suppose you want it ASAP, like tomorrow, as if you are the only ME in this organization and we are sitting around up here, twiddling our fingers.”
“I’d love to have it today,” Laurie said with a smile. “It would be my coup de grace for this afternoon revelation.”
John threw back his head and laughed. “I suppose I never can please you.
You’re always in such a hurry. But tell me, you used the pronoun ‘we’ when you asked when it could be run. Was that a literal we or a figurative we?”
“Literal,” Laurie said without hesitation. “I was pretty handy around the lab in college and in biochem in medical school. If one of your techs or yourself could throw me some hints now and then, I believe I could muddle through it. As soon as I finish the rest of the case’s histology slides, I have a free afternoon.”
John regarded Laurie for a beat, wondering if it was a good idea to let an amateur loose in his lab or a recipe for disaster. In favor of allowing her to work there for the afternoon was that he liked her and respected her enthusiasm and dedication, and the fact that she had always appreciated his work and had frequently told him so.
“Have you ever used an HPLC/MS/MS, otherwise known as a high-performance liquid chromatography with tandem mass spectrometry unit, before?”
“I have,” Laurie said. “During my residency training I spent some time in the lab as an elective.”
“Also, we’ll need some actual tetrodotoxin, which I don’t have here, but they’ll have next door at New York Hospital.”
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“I’ll be happy to run next door to get it.”
“All right, why not?” John said with sudden resolve. “I tell you what we’ll do. I’ll have one of my techs start by using a sonicator to turn some of this tissue sample into organic slurry. When you come back, I’ll let you do the extraction with either n-butanol or acetic acid. I’m not sure which, but I’ll decide by the time you get back. Sound okay?”
“Sounds perfect,” Laurie said, flashing John a thumbs-up sign before spinning on her heels to head back to her office. She now had true motivation to finish up with the histology slides.
28
MARCH 26, 2010
FRIDAY, 12:45 p.m.
B
en Corey flipped closed the last journal from the stack on his desk and tossed it onto the pile that had been building on the floor next to him. It was the first time he’d had an opportunity to finish skimming all the current journals since he had started iPS USA, and it gave him a comforting sense of being under control, the exact opposite of what Satoshi’s failure to check in was affording.
Taking out a Post-it note, he wrote “recycle” in large capital letters and stuck the note on the journal he’d just finished perusing. Then he stretched with his arms over his head, noticing it was getting close to one p.m. For a moment he toyed with the idea of asking Jacqueline to join him for lunch. They’d been lunching fairly regularly over the last month, and he wondered if it was time to take their relationship to the next level. From his perspective, he thought she’d been making some overtures in that regard, which he’d come to believe he ought to take advantage of, as his relationship with his relatively new wife, Stephanie, had take a serious hit after the birth of their toddler, Jonathan. As hard as Ben had been working to get iPS USA off the ground, he felt he deserved some pleasurable diversion, which he wasn’t getting at home.