Greg Iles - True Evil

Cursing inwardly, he gave the phone back to the nurse, then hurried across the grass to his car. He would have to risk meeting Biddle at their original rendezvous. He didn't like the idea, but when he thought back to the demeanor of Morse and Shepard in his office, he felt that the worm had not quite turned. If they had anything concrete on him-or more important, if the FBI were handling this officially-they would have played it differently. He looked back over his shoulder as he walked. Morse and Shepard had still not emerged from the hospital.

Alex put on a smile and pushed open the door of Dr. Pearson's office. The beehive lady was still at her post, but the door to the inner office was cracked open.

"Hello again," Alex said. "I forgot to ask Dr. Pearson one question."

The secretary did not hide her irritation. "I think it's better if you call with it."

Alex raised her voice, trusting to Pearson's goodwill. "It's just one question, nothing medical at all."

Dr. Pearson poked his head out of his door, like a curious cat, though not so sleek. "Hello again."

He'd at least remembered her face. "Yes, I was actually talking to Dr. Tarver a moment ago. He invited us into his office-"

Beehive lady snorted.

"— and he had some very interesting pictures on his wall. I grew up in Jackson, and one of them is really bugging me."

Pearson looked perplexed. "Well, I grew up in California, so I doubt-"

"It's a long building with glass windows, and it says FREE AIDS TESTING on a banner in front. It looks like a restaurant my dad used to take me to when I was a little girl."

Pearson's eyes lit up; he was genuinely happy to be able to help. "Yes, of course. That used to be Pullo's restaurant, until Dr. Tarver bought it."

A fillip of excitement went through Alex, almost deja vu, but slightly different. "Dr. Tarver bought Pullo's?"

"Yes, about four years ago, I believe."

"I've been living in Washington, D.C., for quite a while now."

"I see. Well, Eldon wanted a site that would be easily accessible to the indigent residents of the city, the homeless, the poor children, the medically underserved."

"Easily accessible for what?"

"His clinic. It's a free clinic for the poor."

"Oh. I see."

"Dr. Tarver gives a great deal of time to that clinic. He tests for many of the common viruses that afflict the lower socioeconomic classes: AIDS, hepatitis C, the herpes family, human papillomavirus, all that stuff. He treats them as well. He's won a lot of grants. Of course, the records of his work are quite valuable in a statistical sense."

Alex was nodding; she felt as though she was nearing something important. "Yes, I imagine they would be. I didn't realize we had something like that in Jackson."

"We didn't for many years. But when Dr. Tarver lost his wife, he decided he wanted to make something positive out of her loss."

"Lost his wife?" Alex echoed. "What did she die of?"

"Cervical cancer. A terrible case, I believe. Seven or eight years ago-before my time here. But Dr. Tarver inherited quite a bit of money from his wife, and he wanted to put it to good use, which he certainly did. You know, Eldon was one of the first people to suggest a viral origin for cervical cancer. I saw a paper he did on it, written years before the idea became generally accepted. I believe he's even considered litigation over credit for that finding."

Alex had run out of words, but her mind was racing.

"Is that all you wanted?" Dr. Pearson asked.

"Um…you say he spends a lot of time at the clinic?"

Beehive woman gave her boss a pointed look, and Dr. Pearson suddenly seemed to remember that Alex was an outsider.

"Dr. Shepard told me to thank you again," Alex said with her best Southern-belle smile, then she backed out of the office.

Outside, she turned and ran to the elevator. When it was too slow in coming, she took the fire stairs. Her heart pounded as she ran, but not from the exercise. When she reached the first floor, she saw Chris standing inside the hospital entrance doors.

"Hey," he said. "I wanted to go outside, but the smoke is so thick it could choke you. There are people out there smoking through tracheostomies."

She took his arm. "Chris, you're not going to believe this."

"What?"

"That building I asked about-Dr. Tarver owns it now. Pearson told me it's a free clinic for the poor."

"What kind of clinic?"

"He tests people for viruses."

Chris's eyes flickered. "Did Pearson say which viruses?"

"AIDS, hepatitis, HPV, herpes. He also treats people there. Gets grants for the medicine. He started that clinic in memory of his wife, who died of cancer seven years ago. And guess what?"

"What?"

"He inherited a pile of money from her."

Chris's mouth fell open. "Did she die of a blood cancer?"

"No. Cervical."

"Hm."

"Doesn't that seem suspicious to you?"

"I'd say yes, except that he turned around and used the money to open a free clinic in memory of his dead wife."

"Right, but that put him down in the inner city, where he could do God knows what under the guise of treating the poor for free. How much oversight do you think there is on that kind of thing?"

Chris was nodding. "Some, but it's tough to oversee what's actually going on in that kind of patient population. OSHA would have to have their own Eldon Tarver on site to understand what was really happening."

Alex nodded excitedly. "I want to go down there."

"And do what?"

"I don't know. Look around, for starters. I want to find out if there's any connection between Tarver and Andrew Rusk. Don't you?"

"I think it's worth exploring." Chris grimaced. "But right now I need to find a bathroom and a bed. I'm feeling pretty rough."

Consciousness of Chris's desperate plight rushed back into her mind like a dark tide. "I'm sorry," she said, slipping under his arm so that he could lean on her. "Let's go to the car. I'll get Kaiser on Dr. Tarver when we get back."

Chris nodded, then walked slowly through the doors.

"When I'm distracted," he said, "like upstairs, I can almost put the reality out of my head. But when I'm alone, like a minute ago…"

Alex pressed her cheek to his chest as they walked. "You're not alone. Remember that."

"Alex-" He caught his breath as they stepped over a hole in the sidewalk. "Everybody faces death alone."

She shook her head. "Not you. You have Ben, and…I'll be right beside you, no matter what happens."

He squeezed her shoulder.

"But nothing bad's going to happen," she said forcefully. "We're going to find these assholes, and we're going to get you cured. Right?"

His reply was a whisper. "I hope so."

Will Kilmer sat in his Explorer, watching Thora Shepard walk angrily up and down the block beneath the AmSouth tower. She clearly meant to ambush Rusk, even if she had to wait all day to do it. Will knew that the confrontation was imminent, since one of his operatives had called and told him that Rusk was sitting in traffic only a block away.

As though she were telepathic, Thora began to concentrate on the private parking garage from which Rusk would try to leave if he had been hiding upstairs. She obviously knew what kind of vehicle he drove, for when the gleaming black Cayenne wheeled around the nearest corner and rolled up to the bar that blocked the garage entrance, Thora sprinted over, interposed herself between Rusk's window and the card reader, and started banging on his window.

Will climbed out of his Explorer and hurried across the street. Thora was hammering the Porsche's window with her fists, while Rusk gaped in shock. His only option was to back up and flee, but a Cadillac had already pulled into the lane behind him. At last, Rusk lowered his window and hissed, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"