The Proteus Cure (27 page)

Abra didn’t understand Mama. And apparently, Mama didn’t understand her. They’d had a falling out over the pace of Proteus. Mama wanted a much more aggressive approach; Abra insisted on slow and easy. The conflict grew so contentious that it threatened Proteus itself.

Finally Mama had stormed off, saying she wanted no more to do with anything connected with Tethys.

Things had remained a little tense since then, but time was a healer. Mama’s resurrection of Schelling Pharma was going well.

Still … she could have so much greater impact on health and humanity if she had stayed with Tethys.

She called her again. Mama wasn’t in, so Abra left a message with her secretary.

She wished she could get more involved in Mama’s day-to-day work. See her new lab, see firsthand what she was working on. But flying wasn’t easy for Abra.

Billy was always flying out there. He got to work with Mama. He even helped with her marketing campaigns for their vaccine line.

She had to smile. Still the jealous older sister.

Maybe in the spring she’d fly out and see the new lab. It was less risky now that her fracture rate was down. Her bones were growing stronger. Not straighter or longer, but tougher. They no longer broke like glass.

Yes, in the spring, she’d bite the bullet and join her mother in the lab. Perhaps help her with whatever she was working on these days. Flu vaccine was valuable in its way, but nowhere near as noble or potent as Proteus.

Jing answered the phone. She spoke a few words, then turned to Shen with her hand over the mouthpiece.

“It’s Doctor Gilchrist for you—again. Why doesn’t he leave you alone?”

Shen could not answer that. He had to keep Jing in the dark.

He took the phone from her and said, “Yes, sir?”

“Shen, I’m outside your house. We need to talk.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be right out.”

He hung up and went to the closet for his jacket.

“Where are you going?” Jing said as she balanced Fai on a slender hip.

“A meeting. He is outside.”

“Why so secret all the time?”

“I will know that when I speak to him.”

Shen walked outside and slipped into the passenger seat.

“We have a problem, Shen,” he said as he put the car in gear.

Shen nodded and held his breath.

“We have another serious threat to my sister’s dream.”

Shen’s heart sank.

“As serious as the one before?”

“More so.
Ji
ù-zhù-zh
e
has tried to avoid this, but there is no other way.”

He had no wish to be impertinent, but had to ask.

“You have tried everything, sir?”

“Everything.”

“Who is this threat? Not Doctor Sheila?”

“No, not Doctor Sheila. Tanesha Green. You tapped her phone. She’s scheduled for biopsies tomorrow at eleven A.M. She must not keep that appointment. She must not keep any appointment ever again.”

Shen sat silent. He did not want this. He felt as if the jaws of a trap were slamming closed on his life.

“I would rather not.”

“What?”

“Shen would rather not kill anyone else. I have a son now and a new life in the United States. I cannot live the life I did in China. I am sorry, but no.”

Shen hated to disrespect his boss, but he had promised this to himself, for Jing and Fai.

“But Shen, I—my sister needs this. You wouldn’t have this new life you speak of if it weren’t for my sister and me, right?”

Shen slowly nodded. “This is correct.”

“Then please, Shen, please, one last thing for her. Once Tanesha is out of the equation, everything will return to normal.”

The doctor had promised this before. But Shen had already killed Dr. Sheila’s husband. Also he had made Dr. Silberman deathly ill. And it was not back to normal. He had to know that if the situation took a bad turn he could run away with his family and start another new life. He had some money saved, but not enough.

“This one need three tickets for family to—” he had not come prepared but he had to say something. He thought of a movies he had recently seen,
The Firm
—“to Jamaica. And fifty thousand dollars in an account there in my name.”

Dr. Gilchrist’s jaw dropped. “Fifty thousand dollars? Shen, I can’t get that kind of money.”

Shen stared at him, waiting. He could see in Dr. Gilchrist’s eyes that he
could
get the money, so he sat silent, waiting.

“Shen, please.”

“Doctor Gilchrist, you are protecting your family and your dream; I must protect mine. I do not wish to leave my home or Tethys. I will do as you command, but I need a refuge if things
not
return to normal.”

The doctor’s face reddened until Shen thought he would explode. Then his color faded.

“Fine, Shen. If that’s how it has to be, I’m sure my sister won’t mind. I’ll work out the details with you later. For now, let me tell you about your job.”

“Thank you, Doctor Gilchrist. We shake on it.”

Shen extended his hand. Dr. Gilchrist was a man of his word and if he took his hand, it would be a deal. The doctor hesitated but finally shook Shen’s hand. A contract.

“Let’s move on now. We don’t have much time. The problem with this job is you must make it look much different than what happened to the Slade woman. If Tanesha Green dies of a broken neck, or even a car accident, the wrong questions will be asked by the wrong people. You must find another way.”

Shen knew of another way but did not want to speak of it. The right mixture of certain herbs—herbs he could find in Chinatown—would do the job.

“It will be done.”

Shen looked straight ahead and thought of all the people he had killed in China at the Party’s behest. He had never counted them, but there were many.

He sighed. Would one more make so big a difference?

Bile had crept up into Bill’s throat the whole time Shen was delivering his demands. It took every bit of his willpower to remain calm. Or pretend to. As soon as Bill dropped off Shen and turned the corner, he slammed on his brakes, shoved open his door, and vomited onto the pavement.

He looked down at his tie. An Armani, his favorite. Puke all over it. Another wonderful day in the life of Bill Gilchrist.

Bill took it off and set it on the passenger seat. Clenched the wheel of the idling car.

He didn’t care that Shen wanted money. Hell, why shouldn’t he get paid extra for killing people? But that much cash would leave a paper trail. And if Shen fled the country with his family, that meant he, Bill, would be left holding the bag. With Shen gone, who else would be blamed?

William Gilchrist
, head of the Tethys Corporation, indicted for murder … probably be convicted too.

Bill pounded the steering wheel with his fists. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

This was not going to happen. He was
not
going down for this. No one was. Shen was going to eliminate Tanesha, and Sheila and Rosko were going to get off his goddamn back.

And everything
was
going to go back to goddamn normal. And Abra would never find out.

Bill drove as quickly as he could back to Tethys. His hands shook as tears welled. Things had to return to normal. They just had to. He
couldn’t
let Abra or his kids down. He could not go to jail.

He wiped his eyes and thanked God for the lock on his office door. If ever he needed to drown himself in a bottle of Jack it was now.

Tanesha was just heading for the shower when the front doorbell stopped her.

Who could that be? she thought, reversing direction. Not Jamal—she’d watched him get on the bus and drive away.

She peeked through the keyhole and saw a Chinese guy standing on her front stoop. He was thin with a shaved head and his eyes were eight-ball black.

She wasn’t about to open the door to no stranger. Tanesha Green wasn’t born yesterday.

“What you want?” She said as she leaned close to the jamb.

“Mrs. Green,” he said softly. “I am from Tethys.”

She could barely hear him.

“Tethys? I’m goin’ there at eleven. What you doin’ here?”

“They did not tell you? Your appointment canceled.”

“Canceled? What you talkin’ ’bout?”

“No need for biopsy. Doctor Sheila Takamura send me. Just swab of mouth for DNA. It will do same thing.”

“Oh, right. Like I’m gonna let you come in here and stick something in my mouth.”

“I stay out here, give you swab. You rub inside mouth, give back, and I go.”

Tanesha thought about that. This was good news in a way. She hadn’t been looking forward to going all the way up to Bradfield to have someone cut on her for a few minutes, then come back home again.

But no way was she letting this guy in, even though she could probably whup his skinny ass with one hand tied behind her back. She spotted her chain lock dangling beside the door and hooked it into the track. She opened the door but she stayed back out of reach. And stick her hand out the door? Not hardly. Let him stick his in here.

“You hand that swab through the door.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He pulled a small case from his pocket, opened it and snapped on a plastic glove. He took test tube and a paper-wrapped swab from the case, peeled the wrapper then handed the swab through the opening. Tanesha snatched it from his fingers and backed further away.

“Just rub cotton tip on inside of cheek,” he told her. “Twirl as you rub.”

She did as he said. It tasted kind of funny but it wasn’t in there long. When she finished she handed it back.

“That’s it?” she said.

“That is all.” He stuck the swab into the test tube and gave her a little bow. “I hope you will believe that I am sorry for you.”

“I don’t need you feelin’ sorry for me.”

“You shall be free of your problems. May your soul find peace.”

Tanesha closed the door. What a weirdo.
May your soul find peace
? What up with that?

A squeezy feeling hit her chest about half way across the living room. Another two steps and it became a pain, a feeling like she was being crushed between two trucks. She turned and started toward the phone to call Tethys. She tried to call for help but couldn’t take a breath. She dropped to her knees and that hurt, but not as much as her chest. She reached out, got her hand on the phone.

Black spots began floating in her vision.

Lord, just let me have one breath so I can dial.

She hit the ON switch but as she began thumbing 9-1-1, the pressure increased and the black spots became spreading splotches, running together, blotting out everything.

“Doctor Kaplan?”

Gerald stopped halfway through the reception area and turned at the sound of the woman’s voice. He groaned when he saw that Japanese doctor—she had a long name he couldn’t remember.

“Don’t waste you time or your breath,” he told her. “I’ve said all I care to.”

Her scary boyfriend came up behind her and said, “We can continue it out here or in your waiting room. I have a very loud voice.”

A lot of anger in that man. Gerald didn’t want to call his bluff. He wouldn’t care if the lumberjack screamed his head off at the Penner, but not here in the medical group’s waiting room. He glanced at his watch.

“I can give you ten minutes, no more.”

The woman nodded. Takamura—that was her name. “That should do it.”

He led them to his consultation room where he seated himself behind the desk but did not offer them chairs. He didn’t want them getting comfortable.

“Very well, what is it this time?”

Dr. Takamura said, “Do you know anyone named Lee Swann?”

“No. Should I?”

She looked disappointed. “He bought the assets of Kaplan Biologicals.”

Gerald straightened in his chair. “He did? Who is he?”

“We were hoping you’d know.”

“No idea. Who gave you his name?”

“I know where to look. Besides, it’s a matter of public record.”

He slumped back. “What does it matter? It’s over, done, finished.”

For him maybe. For KB. But his therapy lived on.

“Maybe not. I think he sold KB-twenty-six to VecGen.”

Just what he’d been thinking. But he wanted no connection to VecGen.

“KB-twenty-six never used a viral vector.”

“Didn’t have to,” she said. “Its use was limited to leukemia. It was introduced directly into the marrow space. VG-seven-twenty-three is used to treat a variety of tumors. But I think there’s a connection.”

Don’t go there, he thought. Please don’t go there.

“Kaplan Biologicals is dead,” he said, “and—”

“Why is it dead? Who killed it?”

“My backers—Innovation Ventures.” The name was bitter on his tongue. “They liked to refer to the company as ‘IV’—infusing capital into worthy ventures. Get it? Clever?” Their expressions said they didn’t think so either. “Anyway, they pulled the plug when they saw that KB-twenty-six wasn’t going to be the cash cow they’d anticipated.” He shook his head. “But why do you care?”

The big man stepped closer to the desk.

“Because of the changes in my son—I told you about them last week. We can’t look at KB-twenty-six, but if it’s the forerunner of VG-seven-twenty-three …”

A question sprang to mind. Did he dare ask it?

“Did your son exhibit changes in his tissue DNA?”

The consultation room went as silent as interstellar space.

“We—” Dr. Takamura swallowed as if her saliva had vanished. “We thought so at first, but retest showed it was the same as before.”

Interesting. How could it?

Gerald restricted his response to a nod and one word. “Good.”

“Why did you ask that?” the man said. Gerald saw his hands bunch into white-knuckled fists. “What do you know?”

“Nothing. Just idle curiosity.” Gerald fixed his gaze on Dr. Takamura. “And you? Is your interest scientific or in this man here?”

He saw her redden. Gotcha.

“I have a patient who’s experiencing changes that parallel those of Mr. Rosko’s son. We’re combining our efforts.”