Michael Palmer - Side Effects

Initially, when Kate had called and asked to meet with him, Zimmermann had proposed his office at the Omnicenter. It was, perhaps, among the last structures on earth she felt like entering on that night.

Unfortunately if there were a list of such things, Demarsco's, his other suggestion, might also have been on it. Demarsco's was one of her and Jared's favorite spots. And now Jared was gone. "A sort of separation, but not a separation, " he had called it in the note she had found waiting for her at three o'clock on Saturday morning. He had taken some things and gone to his father's, where he would stay until leaving for business in San Diego on Monday. "A sort of separation, but not a separation."

There was no lengthy explanation. No apology. Not even any anger.

But the hurt and confusion were there in every word. It was as if he had just discovered that his wife was having an affair-an up-and-down, intense, emotionally draining affair-not with another man, but with her job, her career. "Space for both of us to sort out the tensions and pressures on our lives without adding new ones, " he had written. "Space for each of us to take a hard look at our priorities."

Kate wondered if, standing in the center of his fine, paneled study, his elegant mistress awaiting him on his black satin sheets, Winfield Samuels, Jr., had raised a glass to toast his victory over Kate and the return of his son and to plan how to make a temporary situation permanent. It was a distressing picture and probably not that far from reality. However, as distressing to her as the image of a gloating Win Samuels, was the realization that her incongruous emotion, at least at that moment and over the hour or so that followed before sleep took her, was relief. Relief at being spared a confrontation. Relief at being alone to think. Someone was trying to sabotage her reputation and perhaps her career. Her close friend was lying in a hospital bed bleeding from a disorder that had killed at least two other women-a disorder that had no definite cause, let alone a cure. And now, there was the discovery that she herself had been exposed to contaminated vitamins, that her own body might be a time bomb, waiting to go off-perhaps to bleed, perhaps to die. Priorities. Why couldn't Jared see their marriage as a blanket on which all the other priorities in their lives could be laid out and dealt with together? Why couldn't he see that their relationship needn't be an endless series of either-ors?

Why couldn't he see that she could love him and still have a life of her own?

Demarsco's was on the first floor of a narrow brownstone. There were a dozen tables covered with red-and-white checkered tablecloths and adorned with candle-dripped Chianti bottles-a decor that might have been tacky, but in Demarsco's simply wasn't. Bill Zimmermann, seated at a small table to the rear, rose and waved as she entered. He wore a dark sport jacket over a gray turtleneck and looked to her like a mix of the best of Gary Cooper and Montgomery Clift. A maternal waitress, perhaps the matriarch of the Demarsco clan, took her coat and ushered her to Zimmermann with a look that said she approved of the woman for whom the tall dashing man at the rear table had been waiting. "They have a wonderful soave, " Kate answered, settling into her seat, "but you'll have to drink most of it. I haven't been getting much sleep lately, and when I'm tired, more than one glass of wine is usually enough to cross my eyes."

"I have no such problem, unfortunately, " he said, nodding that the ample waitress could fill his earlier order. "Sometimes, I fear that my liver will desert me before my brain even knows I have been drinking. It is one of the curses of being European. I stopped by the hospital earlier to see your friend Mrs. Sandler."

"I know. I was with her just before I came here. She was grateful for your visit. Whatever you said had a markedly reassuring effect."

Kate smiled inwardly, remembering the girlish exchange she and Ellen had had regarding the Omnicenter director's uncommon good looks and marital status. "Maybe I could rent him for a night, " Ellen had said, "just to parade past Sandy a time or two."

Zimmermann tapped his fingertips together. "The lab reports show very little change."

"I know, " Kate said. "If anything, they're worse. Unless there are several days in a row of improvement, or at least stability, I don't think her hematologist will send her home." She felt a heaviness in her chest as her mind replayed the gruesome scene on Ashburton Five during Beverly Vitale's last minutes. Ellen's counts were not yet down to critical levels, but there were so many unknowns. A sudden, precipitous fall seemed quite possible. The stream of thoughts flowed into the question of whether with Ian Toole's findings, Kate herself should have some clotting measurements done. She discarded the notion almost as quickly as she recognized it. "I hope as you do that there will be improvement, " Zimmermann said. He paused and then scanned the menu.

"What will it be for you?" he asked finally. "I'm not too hungry. How about an antipasto, some garlic bread… and a side order of peace of mind?"

Zimmermann's blue-gray eyes, still fixed on the leather-enclosed menu, narrowed a fraction. "That bad?"

Kate chewed at her lower lip and nodded, suddenly very glad she had gone the route of calling him. If, as seemed possible, a confrontation with Redding Pharmaceuticals was to happen, it would be good to have an ally with Bill Zimmermann's composure and assuredness, especially considering the fragility of her own self-confidence. "In that case, perhaps I had best eat light also." Zimmermann called the waitress over with a microscopic nod and ordered identical meals. "I want to thank you for coming out on such a grisly night, " Kate began. "There have been some new developments in my efforts to |! make sense out of the three bleeding cases, and I wanted to share them with you."

"Oh? " Zimmermann's expression grew more attentive. "You know I've had sample after sample of medications from the Omnicenter analyzed at the State Toxicology Lab."

"Yes, of course. But I thought the results had all been unremarkable."

"They were… until late Friday afternoon. One of the vitamin samples I had analyzed contained a painkiller called anthranilic acid. The basic chemical structure of the drug is contained in several commerical products-By mid, from Sampson Pharmaceuticals, and Levonide, from Freeman-Gannett, to name two. However, the form contaminating the vitamins is something new-at least in this country. Ian Toole at the state lab is going to check the European manuals and call me tomorrow."

"Is he sure of the results?"

"He seemed to be. I don't know the man personally, but he has a reputation for thoroughness."

"What do you think happened?"

"Contamination." Kate shrugged that there was no other explanation that made any sense. "Either at Redding Pharmaceuticals or perhaps at one of the suppliers of the vitamin components, although I would suspect that a company as large as Redding can do all the manufacturing themselves."

"Yes. I agree. Do you think this anthranilic acid has caused the bleeding disorders in our three women?"

"Bleeding and ovarian disorders, " Kate added, "at least ovarian in two of the women. We don't know about Ellen. The answer to your question is I don't know and I certainly hope not."

"Why?"

"Because, Bill, the vitamins that were finally positive for something were mine. Ones you prescribed for me."

Zimmermann paled. The waitress arrived with their antipasto, but he did not so much as glance up at her. "Jesus, " he said softly. It was the first time Kate had ever heard him use invective of any kind. "Are you sure this Toole couldn't have made a mistake? You said yourself there were any number of samples that were negative."