Michael Palmer - Fatal

"The miners?"

"Them and the girl who died, Kathy Wilson. And Bill Grimes is right in the middle of it."

"My read on Grimes is that he's slick and power hungry," Hal said, "but he's not evil."

"Unk, he's evil. Believe me, he is."

Hal Sawyer listened patiently as Matt recounted the story of Nikki's abduction and subsequent rescue, and this morning's revelation regarding the microscopic findings in Kathy Wilson's brain.

"Spongiform encephalopathy" Hal said when Matt had finished. "Now, doesn't missing something like that make me feel a bit sheepish."

"There's no reason. The Wilson woman's brain looked normal, just as I'm sure our two cases' did. You wouldn't be expected to do a microscopic on their brains. This guy in Boston only did it because Nikki Solari insisted."

"You still think the mine's at fault?"

"I'm sure of it. I don't know the precise connection between what they've done and spongiform disease, but I do know that somehow they're the cause of this, and Grimes is on the take from them. Any ideas what we should do?"

Hal thought for a time.

"It seems showing someone in authority that toxic dump you found is the place to start."

"I agree."

"There is a man, Fred Carabetta, at the Occupational Safety and Health Administration in Washington, who owes me a favor for some expert witness work I did for him a few years back. Maybe the way to go is to see if I can call in my marker and get him to come with us and view that dump. Once we've got an OSHA official believing, we can bring some legitimate pressure to bear against BC and C."

"If the dump is still there."

"Now, nephew, you know we can't control that. That's rule number two in your Godfather's Lexicon — "

" — of Youth. I know, I know. Rule number one: There's no such word as 'can't.' Rule number two: If you can't control it, don't let it control you."

"Excellent. I'm proud that you haven't forgotten the Lexicon rules after all these years."

"That's 'cause you still spout them at me every chance you get."

"In that case, I'm glad you've been paying attention. Listen, Matt, I'll see what I can do with Fred Carabetta. How can I get ahold of you?"

"Just call the house and leave a message on my machine. I'll check it frequently and get back to you."

"And I'll call that coroner in Boston, too. See if he can tell me about that special stain he used."

"Do you have any tissue left from those two miners?"

"I suspect I do."

"Please don't speak with anyone about Grimes until you and I have a chance to talk, okay? He's more dangerous than you think."

"If you're that certain about him, why don't you just go to the police somewhere and file a complaint?"

"Nikki wants to, but I've talked her out of it for now. From what I've heard, the police are a pretty tight fraternity. There's no cop who's going to listen to us and run right down to Belinda to make Grimes assume the pat-down position. And once we come out into the open, he'll have us between his crosshairs regardless of what we allege he did. For the time being, I'd rather wait."

"Okay, whatever you say. Just be careful. I'll call you later today. By the way, I visited with your mother this morning. She's really slipping."

"I know. I saw her for a few minutes yesterday. It won't be long now before she'll need some sort of comprehensive care. I'll look into it when I get this business settled. Listen, Hal, thanks for your help — with her and with this."

"You're on the right track, Matt. I'm certain of it."

"Me, too, Unk," Matt said. "Me, too."

Nikki gave the pancakes a solid eight. Matt claimed to have wolfed down his Spanish omelet too rapidly to grade it for taste. He left Grace a tip that was twice the cost of their meal, along with a note that thanked her for presiding over their morning mooning.

"You know what I'm really relieved about?" he asked as they headed out to the Harley. "I'm really relieved those guys didn't kill you."

"Aw, gee. You certainly know just what to say to a girl, you romantic devil you. It's good to know we actually have something in common. I'm relieved they didn't kill me, too."

She reached across the bike and kissed him intensely enough to get a honk from a passing trucker. She had just let up when they felt some tentative raindrops. Fifteen minutes later, it was drizzling steadily. Matt found a Wal-Mart outside of York and VISAed some rain gear for each of them, but for the next five hours the going was slow and not pleasant. They gave passing thought to stopping until the next morning, but Nikki was too anxious to get home. By the time the clouds broke, they were still several hours from Boston, having inched through rush-hour traffic around New York City. At nine Nikki called the office to tell Joe Keller they were running late and might not be there until eleven, but there was no answer.

"He's either doing a late case or out to dinner," she said. "I shouldn't have told him when we were arriving, so he wouldn't wait, but now that I did, I'm sure he'll be there."

Matt used the break to call his machine. There were two messages. The first was from Mae reporting that as far as she knew, there was no word about his patient, Dr. Solari, and that she was worried about not having heard from him all day, and hoped he was all right and that his absence was due to nothing more serious than the erratic behavior he had been exhibiting so much of lately. The second message was from Hal.

"Good news, Matt. Not great, but good. Fred Carabetta won't commit to any action regarding the mine, but he will meet with us his office. Tomorrow at three. Two Hundred Constitution Avenue. Wherever you are, I hope you can make it. Call and confirm."

Matt left a message on both his uncle's office and home machines that he would be there, and then dictated a message on his own office machine telling Mae he was all right and would be in touch. After he set the receiver down, he shared Hal's breakthrough with Nikki.

"I'm going to take the bike back to D.C. tomorrow," he said. "Wanna come?"

"Do you get frequent flyer miles on this thing?"

"Double miles to D.C. It's the shuttle."

"Well, thanks. I really want to be with you, but for the moment I think I need to stay here. For one thing, I feel like my body can't take too much more, and for another, I have this job cutting up dead people that I get paid pretty well for doing, but only if I show up. It says so in my contract."

"I understand. I'll be back up as soon as I deal with this mine thing."

It was nearing eleven by the time they cruised up the Southeast Expressway toward the shimmering lights of Boston. The rain had stopped, leaving the air cool and fresh.

"Have you been back here since your residency?" Nikki asked.

"Nope," he called back over his shoulder. "In the beginning, after I returned to Belinda, I was working like hell in the ER, then to set up a private practice. Ginny got sick soon after that, and never really had much of a remission. Since she died, it's been hard enough much of the time just to get up and go to the office, much less embark on a nostalgic journey to Boston. I did like the place, though. Lots."

The medical examiner's office was located just off the highway. Except for some low nighttime lighting, the three-story building was dark. Nikki rang the front buzzer half a dozen times. They could hear the sound of it echoing through the empty reception area, but there was no movement inside.

"Strange," she said, "there's usually a maintenance man here all night. Even if he's not, Joe often works past midnight. Knowing we're coming, I have trouble believing he went home."

"Maybe he wasn't feeling well," Matt offered.

"Maybe. The front door opens with a swipe card that is back in West Virginia with my things. But there's a security door in the back that has a keypad. Joe's office is toward the back anyhow. Maybe he can't hear the buzzer."