Robin Cook - Death Benefit

“Fine,” Pia said. “I wouldn’t mind a few minutes of rest. Whatever drug I was given has me feeling sleepy again. I could use a bit of rest while you take care of business. Do you mind if I just lie down here on your bed? Call me when you’re ready.” Pia moved from the desk chair over to the bed and lay down. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. She was tired and wired at the same time.

George went over to her and, taking out his pocket light, made her open her eyes. He quickly checked pupillary light reaction. It was normal.

“Jesus, that’s bright,” she complained, turning her head to the side. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m just worried about a concussion,” George said.

“That’s a happy thought,” Pia said.

“It’s something to think about, especially if you’re sleepy.”

“Good point, but I think I’m fine, just tired.”

“I’ll go back to Radiology and make my excuses. I’ll be right back. Wedge the chair under the door handle. Do you have your phone?”

Pia nodded.

“Make sure it’s charged. My charger’s on the desk. And call me if you need me.”

George would have been far happier calling the police or renting a car and driving Pia as far out of the city as he could. But he’d come this far with her. He just had to cover himself, and he’d be clear to stay with her for as long as it took to resolve this thing. They’d get a Geiger counter and find the proof if it existed. Or they wouldn’t find the proof, and Pia would have to drop this theory as she had all the others. Perhaps then she would quit sleuthing.

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER NEW YORK CITY MARCH 25, 2011, 2:01 P.M.

Pia’s brief sleep was interrupted by George knocking gently on his own door. She woke up with a start and recognized that she was in a room that was not her own. She sat up feeling like she had a hangover. All at once she realized where she was, and the whole previous night’s experience came flooding back. Pia got up from the bed, swayed for a moment, and went to the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s George.” Pia took the chair away from under the door handle. She then hurried into George’s compulsively clean bathroom and checked out her face, wincing when she touched her bruised left jawbone and wincing again when she noticed for the first time that she also had the makings of a good black eye. Reflexively, she closed her uninjured eye to make sure she could see normally. She also examined her cut lip, and then wiped away a bit of blood encrusted in her nostrils. Then she began to fill the sink to wash her face.

“What time is it?” she called through the open door. Her mind was clearing, and the dizziness she’d experienced when first getting off George’s bed had totally disappeared.

“It’s about two, a little after,” said George. “You want something to eat?”

“No! There’s no time. We have to get moving. The longer we wait, the less chance we have of finding anything. As we learned, polonium has a relatively short half-life and you can just wash it off normally, like dirt.”

“So you’re sticking to the polonium idea?” George had half hoped Pia would have cooled to her rather outlandish scenario by the time he got back.

“Absolutely. It fits so well. You agreed it fit, didn’t you?”

“It seems to,” George said. “Provided we can’t think of another reason for the hair loss. But the practicalities seem so daunting. And you’re sure there was hair loss, right?”

“Oh God, yes, George, I’m sure. You saw it yourself.”

George looked at Pia as she emerged from the bathroom. She had an intent expression on her face. It seemed that Pia was pleased with the power of her deductive reasoning, or else with the elegance of the plot to murder her mentor.

“Do you have any idea how hard this must have been to pull off?” she said. “It makes the Kennedy assassination look easy.”

“I think Oswald acted alone.”

“Okay, bad example. This has to be a sizable conspiracy, with a number of people involved. Once we confirm the polonium, I can’t let the authorities spin the story, which they will. I need to make sure my version of the story, which is the truth, gets out.”

“But if there’s proof, the police will protect you.”

“Bullshit. It’s the police I’m most afraid of. Listen, the more I think about it, the more I think it has to have been other researchers or doctors. The science behind it is impressive. I mean, it had to be someone with a medical background who thought all this through. Otherwise, as you said, why not just shoot them?” Pia stopped herself.

“I’m jumping the gun. We’ve got to look for radiation left in the lab. If it’s going to be anyplace, that’s where it will be, I’m sure. We need that Geiger counter. But let’s make a quick detour back to my room. I need to dig out some concealer. The fact that I look like I got run over is going to raise some eyebrows.”

“Let’s make it quick,” George said. “I’ve only managed to wrangle a couple more hours. I have to be back in the Radiology Department for an important lecture at four o’clock.”

Pia and George were able to borrow a Geiger counter from a resident in the department of nuclear medicine with ease. It was an out-of-commission machine awaiting recycling that was actually better at detecting alpha particles than the newer models. With the detector in hand, they hustled over to Rothman’s lab to check for any leftover radiation.

Once at the lab’s outer door they hesitated. “The only person I’d rather not run into is Spaulding,” Pia said. “He’s the only one who might cause us trouble. I never got the impression that any of the other technicians liked me much, but I can’t imagine they would physically stop us.”

“Want me to duck in and ask if he’s around?” George questioned.

“Good idea,” Pia responded.

It took George less than a minute. When he reappeared he said that the secretary told him Arthur Spaulding was taking a late lunch.

“Lucky us,” Pia said. “Let’s do it.”

The pair entered the lab with Pia in the lead. Marsha Langman looked up. Pia said she was just coming by to get some personal items. Marsha shrugged and went back to her work, whatever that was.

Pia made a beeline for the biosafety unit. They quickly donned protective clothing. They were in a hurry and didn’t want to be interrupted. Pia wanted to start in the unit because it was there that Rothman and Yamamoto had spent the entire morning on the fateful day, as well as the day before.

The Geiger counter was a small yellow box about the size of a large flashlight, with a handle on top. Pia held the main instrument in her left hand and ran the sensor, much like a microphone, over the bench surfaces. The machine made a slight crackling sound from background radiation every few seconds. To Pia’s chagrin, they found nothing, even under the hood itself.

As they removed their protective clothing they didn’t talk. Emerging back into the lab, they detoured to Pia’s small office for Marsha’s benefit. Pia had said she was there for some personal items so it was a command performance. As per usual, O’Meary was still there, half up in Pia’s ceiling space. He poked his head down when he heard the students enter.

“Miss Grazdani, you back? My God. What happened to your face?”

Pia said nothing.

“Good news. I found the short after all this time. It was between here and the doctor’s office. We’ll be out of here today. Sorry about the inconvenience.”

Pia ignored him.

“Is that one of those Geiger counters?”

“We did some radioisotope labeling in here,” Pia said. “We’re just checking the place is clean. Which it is.”