Richard Mabry - Lethal Remedy

And sitting on a rafter she saw a series of small boxes interconnected with wires. She looked up to see Mark's eyes were fixed on hers.

"There's your crying baby. A digital recorder with a separate speaker, connected to a timer, and all neatly wired into the house's electrical current. I suspect that it's set to go offon random nights, playing just long enough to get you out of bed." Sara couldn't believe it.

This was something you read about in detective novels or saw in a James Bond movie. It didn't happen to divorced women living in a nice neighborhood in Dallas. The questions flew through her mind. Why? Who?

"Would you happen to have some wire cutters? Or even a pair of pliers with wire-cutting jaws? I'll cut this thing loose. We can talk later about who did it and how. Right now, I want to assure you that you're not going to be awakened by those cries anymore." Sara's heart sank.

No, she wouldn't hear the electronic cries anymore. But neither would she hear the cries of her own baby. He was dead. As dead as the love she'd once had for Jack Ingersoll.

The man behind the hotel desk wore a dark suit, a gleaming white shirt with a conservative tie, and a smile as false as Grandma's teeth. His English was only slightly accented. "Welcome, Herr Doktor Ingersoll. Or do you perhaps prefer Herr Professor?" "Either will do,"

Ingersoll said. He dropped his passport and American Express Platinum Card on the registration counter. "I'm quite tired from the overseas flight and would like to go to my room as quickly as possible." "Of course." The man beckoned to a bellman and said something in German.

The bellman gave a curt nod and hurried away for a luggage trolley.

"We have for you a very nice room on the Executive Level. Zimmer sieben funfzig." He paused and translated. "Room seven fifty." The clerk pushed the credit card back toward Ingersoll, along with a few other pieces of paper. "Here is information about our services. All your expenses will be direct-billed to Jandra Pharmaceuticals. I will return your passport as soon as I have completed your registration form." Ingersoll scooped up the credit card and other papers. One of them, a business card, fell to the floor, and when Ingersoll picked it up he saw that engraved letters identified the Hotel Hessischer Hof, with an address in Frankfurt, Germany. At the bottom, smaller script spelled out the name and phone number of Wilhelm Lambert, Generaldirektor. Not bad. Business class on Lufthansa. Quartered on the executive level of a first-class hotel, met by the general manager. So far, Jandra was treating him right. Then again, he knew that all this would vanish like the morning mist if Jandramycin failed to live up to corporate expectations. "Please go with Kurt, Herr Professor," the manager said, and Ingersoll fell in behind the bellman. Apparently the Germans respected him more as a professor than as a physician. Then again, there were several kinds of "Doktor" here.

Most of them were nonmedical and many of them honorary titles, but to be a true "Professor" was a horse of a different color. He made a mental note to identify himself in that fashion in the future.

"Professor Ingersoll. Is that you?" He turned to see a stout, middle-aged man in a wrinkled blue serge suit of European cut hurrying after him. "Please forgive me, but I recognize you from your pictures.

I believe it's important that we meet." Ingersoll frowned. "Yes, I'm Professor Ingersoll. And you are…?" "I am Doktor Heinz Gruber.

From the University of Ulm Medical Center." Seeing Ingersoll's puzzled expression, the man continued, "I lead the research studies being done in Germany on your compound, EpAm848. Or should I say, Jandramycin."

"Oh, I didn't recognize the name." He extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you." "I know you are just arriving, and must be tired, but I think it's very important that we talk. I believe we have much to discuss. Much." Ingersoll weighed the alternatives. He decided he'd better get this out of the way. He pulled a bill from a roll in his pocket and handed it to the bellman, who'd stood patiently by during this exchange. "I'm sorry I haven't had the opportunity to change any money into Euros. Please take my bags to my room." The bellman's confused expression told Ingersoll that he was dealing with one of the small minority of Germans not fluent in English. Unusual for a four-star hotel, but there it was. Gruber addressed the man. " Nimmst Du die Sacke zum Zimmer." The bellman nodded and trundled off. "Thank you," Ingersoll said. "I didn't think I'd need any German for my visit." "In most instances, you won't. I suspect he understands more English than he lets on." Gruber flashed a grin. "Bellmen and servants learn a great deal that way." "You said we needed to talk. Can we do it quickly? I'm really jet-lagged," Ingersoll said. "Of course."

Gruber scanned the lobby and pointed toward a quiet corner. "I believe we will have some privacy there." Ingersoll dropped into an overstuffed chair and settled his briefcase on the floor beside him.

"Now, what's so important that it can't wait?" He heard the impatience in his voice, but didn't really care. This was some German doctor doing grunt work for Jandra, and he probably wanted approval.

Ingersoll hoped to give him a quick "attaboy" before heading for a welldeserved bath and nap. "As you may know, along with my colleague, Dr. Rohde, I have been carrying out the German arm of the study on Jandra's new antibiotic. We have been following the protocol they set up and forwarding the results to their American office as we accumulate data." This didn't seem to call for a response, so Ingersoll nodded and tried to look interested. "The drug was completely successful in treating infections with Staphylococcus luciferus, and we noted no side effects while patients were receiving it. But…" Gruber looked around and beckoned a waiter. " Zwei Kaffee bitte." He waited until the waiter hurried away to continue.

"You seem a little unfocused. Perhaps some coffee would help. I believe you will find what I have to say important." Gruber seemed content to sit in silence until coffee was served. He dropped a few bills on the tray, added cream and sugar to his cup, and took a sip.

He smacked his lips. "Good coffee is truly one of the forces that keeps doctors and scientists going, is that not true?" Ingersoll ignored his own cup. "Can we get to the point? I'm quite tired." "I apologize," Gruber said, while looking anything but sorry. "The point is that we have heard rumors, nothing certain but definite rumors, about… " He spread his hands. " Komplikationen?" "Complications, I suppose." Suddenly Ingersoll was alert. "What about these rumors?"

"We are happy to carry out this research. The money supports much of our other work. But it is of concern when we learn that perhaps we are putting our patients at risk for troubles that come later." He leaned forward. "What can you tell me about these rumors?" Ingersoll remembered his conversation with Wolfe. Was this a trap? Had Jandra set this up to test him? Or was this a well-meaning researcher, simply seeking information? In either case, he knew what his answer would be, and he recited it, just as he'd recited it less than thirty-six hours earlier. "I know of no such effects."

Gloria stuck her head into the dictation room and waggled the chart in her hand. Sara covered the phone mouthpiece and whispered,

"One minute." She removed her hand and said, "What did you ask?" Mark repeated his question. "How did you sleep?" Sara thought she'd never heard a sillier question. She felt like she'd been put through a wringer. "I'm afraid I didn't sleep too well." "Oh." Mark's disappointment was obvious. "I was hoping that getting that digital recorder out of your attic would let you sleep through the night for a change." Didn't he realize that the cries that triggered her nightmares weren't the only thing disturbing her sleep? She had so much weighing on her that the removal of one factor didn't make everything all well. "Mark, I have to get back to patients. Can we talk later?" "Sure. How about lunch?" This was going much too fast.