The Memory Painter: A Novel (26 page)

She stopped walking. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I stopped counting a long time ago.”

“Well, can you take a wild guess?” she asked, growing even more exasperated.

“Over thirty?”

“Thirty? You speak over thirty languages?” she yelped, on the verge of having a meltdown on the street corner. “Which ones?”

“German, Russian, French, Dutch, Spanish, Chinese—Mandarin and Cantonese—Korean, Farsi, Italian, Latin—”

“Okay, stop.” She held up her hand. “Just translate what he said.”

“He said to be careful and gave me Michael’s journals.”

“I know he said more than that. He had a coronary when he found out who I was. Why is he so afraid of my father?”

Instead of answering, Bryan handed her the journals. “These were Michael’s diaries. I already know everything in them. They’re for you.”

THIRTY-TWO

DAY 31—MARCH 8, 1982

Tonight Conrad finally admitted to recalling lifetimes. More than any of us, he has lost his way in the mire of memories. His attack on me was shocking and terrifyingly real. Who had he remembered, another one of the monsters who destroyed my life?

I now believe a soul can hate another soul, wrap itself around the other and suffocate its light, releasing tragedy and pain as its venom.

I can no longer reconcile the lives I’m remembering with my own. I fear I am losing my identity altogether, and I am not sure how much longer I can stay sane.

Last night, when I dreamed of the Egyptian queen, I thought about my death again. I have begun to think it will happen soon. I’m not ready to die, but if I do, then at least this whole experience will be mercifully forgotten.

Diana and I are meeting Finn at the lab tonight to pack our equipment and leave Boston. Simply changing the locks won’t do. We need to disappear in order to survive. Conrad is dangerous to us all.

*   *   *

“He wrote this entry the night he died?” Linz put down Michael’s journal and thought for the hundredth time,
This can’t be true.
Each word had shattered her heart.

Bryan sat next to her on her sofa, remaining quiet. He gave the slightest nod.

Her fingers fidgeted with the journal cover. Something inside of her snapped—she had reached her threshold. She stood up and threw it on the table. “Now I’m not only supposed to believe I’m this Diana woman, but that my father may have killed me?” She knew she was screaming but couldn’t stop herself. “Do you realize how insane this is? I can’t believe it! I can’t!”

“Calm down.” Bryan reached out to her. “I know—”

“What I’m feeling?” She jerked away from him. “No you don’t. I just read old diaries suggesting my father is Dr. Evil. Hell, you wrote them. Right?” She searched his face. “What happened after this?”

Bryan kept silent. Linz stared at the journals, hating them, hating Bryan, hating herself for feeling what she felt. A bitter seed of doubt about her father had now been planted inside her and she could not stop its growth.

She paced up and down the room, becoming more distraught as she tried to expel the implications of Michael’s journals. “If reincarnation is real, maybe I haven’t always been a saint either. Maybe I’ve killed. Maybe I’d become confused, crazy if I remembered everything at once. Who are we to judge?” She angrily wiped away her tears. “How do you even know my father did anything? How can you be sure I’m even Diana?”

“Don’t get angry at me. You read it yourself. Diana’s memories of Juliana are the same as your dreams.”

“So you expect me to believe the worst of my father without any proof? Well I won’t.”

“Finn thinks if Conrad knew who I was, he’d kill me,” Bryan countered.

Linz barked out a laugh. “Please, now that’s delusional.”

“He told me to leave town.”

“Fine. Go back to Canada. Do us all a favor.” She winced as she said it. She had never argued like this with anyone in her life.

Bryan had lost all of his patience. “Linz, I am trying to explain to you what the hell is going on. Stop being so damn defensive!” He grabbed her shoulders.

“Get your hands off me.” She wrenched herself away from him.

They stood three feet apart. Bryan was yelling loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “The problem is you don’t remember! And until you do, we’re going to have this wall between us that I can’t climb! All I can do is wait for you. And I will! I won’t go anywhere. I don’t care what the hell happens to me. I’ll wait!” He threw on his jacket and began to leave.

Linz had never seen him so livid. But a part of her took grim satisfaction in it. She wanted him to hurt as much as she did. “Hey,” she called out. Bryan turned around, a slight look of hope on his face. Instead she held out the journals. “Get these out of my house.”

Bryan took them and left without another word. Linz slammed the door behind him—and her eyes settled on the Renovo file. It was sitting on her coffee table. She needed more answers than Michael’s journals had provided and the scientist within her knew this would be the best place to look.

Galvanized, she opened the file and read every page. An hour later, she read it again, this time taking notes at lightning speed, her mind in overdrive as she worked to break down the formula. She could see now that this was the only way.

When she was finished, she gathered her computer, her keys, and the file with quick efficiency. She was ready to get her proof.

*   *   *

On the corner a street bum sang “Some Enchanted Evening” at the top of his lungs.

Bryan put some money into the man’s cup and used it as an excuse to look back at the two men following him. After he’d left Linz’s, he had driven back to his place, dropped off the journals, and then promptly left to go for a long walk, hoping it would help him cool down. He had become aware of the men’s presence five blocks ago.

Bryan kept walking. So did they.

*   *   *

Inside the Medicor building across town, Conrad’s office appeared deserted. His computer monitor flashed in the dark, casting a ruby light around the room that made the statue of Atlas look like it was covered in blood. The message on the screen read: “Security Override: Project File Renovo. Accessed by L. Jacobs.”

*   *   *

Downstairs in the lobby, Linz walked past the night guard toward the elevators. Her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and froze—he never called her.

She decided to pick up, forcing her voice to sound normal. “Hi … sorry I’ve been out of touch.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Conrad said, shutting the door to his office and heading to the elevator.

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

Neither spoke as each waited for the other to say something.

Conrad finally asked, “Did you read the file?”

“I did. You were right. It’s better not to get involved. Clean break.”

Conrad got into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. “Are you out? Do you want to meet for a late dinner?”

“No, I’m already at home. Why, where are you?”

“Leaving the office.”

Linz looked around in dismay. She was right smack in the middle of the lobby and sure to run into him. The lights above the elevator bank showed that there was one on its way down, and there was a good chance that Conrad was in it. He asked again, “Sure you’re okay?”

“Dad, I’m fine.” Trying not to draw attention to herself, she rounded the corner just as the elevator opened. He stepped out.

“Well, I was just worried. Try and get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

He waved to the guard and walked out the front door. Linz peeked out from around the corner and watched him leave. “Me too.”

*   *   *

Bryan took note of his surroundings and saw he had entered the club district on Lansdowne Street. The men had not stopped tailing him. In fact, they were gaining. Bryan looked over his shoulder. This was bad. There was no choice—he broke out into a run.

They chased after him.

Bryan sprinted hard and was wheezing by the second block. He wasn’t used to running, and he could feel his body slowing down. He tried to focus his memories on Mandu, who was the fastest runner in the Wardaman tribe—Bryan might not have his body, but he did have his memories. Immediately his breathing began to slow, his legs relaxed, and the earth rushed beneath him as his speed increased.

Stealing a look behind him, he saw the men break into a dead run. They were both in excellent shape. Bryan pushed even harder and managed to put a few blocks between them.

Rounding a corner, he ducked into an alley and dove right into a dumpster and covered himself with garbage. Then he waited.

Five minutes later, he heard the men outside. They were both breathing heavily from the exertion.

One of them said, “Damn, that bastard’s fast. Did you see him turn?”

They passed the dumpster and continued down the street. The second man ordered, “Check across. I’ll meet you at the next block.”

Bryan continued to wait. After ten excruciating minutes, he lifted the lid of the dumpster as quietly as possible and jumped out.

Just then a cluster of teenagers walked by, heading to the T station at the corner. Bryan slipped into step with them, using the group as cover.

He had almost reached the stairs when the two men spotted him from across the street. Bryan flew down the stairs, leapt over the station gate, and rushed to catch a boarding train. He saw one of his pursuers run into the next car. Seconds before the doors shut, Bryan jumped off—an arm came from behind him, wrapping itself around his neck like a vise.

“Nice try.” The other man pressed a stun gun to Bryan’s side and delivered a swift, paralyzing jolt.

Right before Bryan lost consciousness, he looked down at his hand and realized that he had forgotten to put on his turquoise ring. Just like Pushkin.

THIRTY-THREE

Liquid from a timed burette dripped in slow rhythm into a Petri dish. Linz checked its progress and went back to review the three-dimensional molecular structure displayed on her laptop.

She had been working in Medicor’s biochemistry labs and had one or two more hours left before people would start to arrive. She knew her keycard would show she had been there, but by the time anyone got around to questioning why she had been working all night in another lab, it would be too late.

A sound came from outside. Linz froze like a burglar caught in the act and turned off the light. She waited in the dark until she heard the footsteps pass.

Not wanting to take any chances, she finished working by the light of her computer. Forty-five minutes later, she filled a large vial with the liquid from the Petri dish and capped it. Her replica of Renovo was complete.

*   *   *

Bryan sat upright on the bed, constrained by the straitjacket. Everything about his prison—the sterile smell, the white walls, the barrenness—reminded him of the years he had spent in psych wards as a child.

He looked at the camera mounted on the wall above him, sensing that he was being observed. A minute later, someone keyed in the code for the electronic lock and the door opened.

Conrad entered. “Good, I see you’re awake.”

Bryan knew Conrad had orchestrated his abduction, but seeing him ignited a new rage. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing—you can’t just kidnap someone like this!”

“But I just did.” Conrad gave him a patronizing smile. “No one knows you’re here, and I own this hospital.”

Bryan spoke in Japanese. “
Was it my paintings that gave me away? Did the one you bought hit a nerve?
”

“This conversation is pointless right now.”

“Why? I don’t seem to be going anywhere.” Bryan pulled at his jacket. “Linz is going to wonder where I am and come looking for me. She knows about Renovo. She has the file.”

Conrad smiled without humor. “Which I’m quite aware of. Lindsey loves puzzles, always has. But she won’t find anything in the file.”

“Except the formula.”

Bryan could see the hesitation in Conrad’s eyes. “I know how to handle my daughter. I’ve given her the best life, and I will not have her dragged into this. She will not be put at risk. You are never going to see her again.”

Inside, Bryan felt a surge of relief at Conrad’s words—he was protective of her. “So you know who she is?”

“I know more than you realize.”

“That’s right. You always were the omniscient one.” Bryan couldn’t help his sarcasm. Conrad hadn’t changed a bit. “It was so easy, wasn’t it? All these years—making money medicating the symptoms, never revealing the cure.” Bryan was yelling now, but he couldn’t stop himself. “We found the cure for Alzheimer’s. And you just buried it.”

“You said yourself the world wasn’t ready for Renovo!”

“Thirty years! I would have at least found a way to reverse the disease. You never even tried.”

“You have no idea what I tried or what’s at stake. I’m sorry it has to be like this, but you have to disappear. For your own safety and my daughter’s.”

Bryan tried to change tactics. “Let me go. I promise I’ll vanish. I’ll leave Boston. You’ll never hear from me again. I swear. Just don’t do this. Please.”

Conrad shook his head. “I can’t.” He unlocked the door and stepped out.

Fear blossomed inside Bryan. “Don’t leave me in here like this.”

Conrad checked his watch. “Don’t worry. I’ll have them give you something to help you sleep. Tomorrow we’ll be starting you on your first round of Renovo. It should go rather quickly, since I’ve perfected the formula. We need to know everything that’s in that head of yours.”

Bryan’s heart froze in terror. He didn’t want to be given Renovo.

Conrad turned back to him. “I’ll tell Lindsey you went back to Europe to paint. She’ll get over it eventually. I’m sorry, but it really is for the best.” The door closed with a definitive lock.

Bryan stood up and rushed the door. “Conrad! I won’t let you do this!” He rammed the door with his upper body again and again. His shoulder took the brunt of it.

Outside, Conrad walked away, deaf to Bryan’s screams. He stopped at the nurses’ station and smiled at the nurse on duty. “Our special patient needs something to help him sleep before his big day tomorrow.”