Robin Cook - Acceptable Risk

“Good grief!” Edward said. “You mean to tell me your family has kept that land for three hundred years?”

“Well, not the entire tract,” Kim said. “The original tract included land in what is now Beverly, Danvers, and Peabody, as well as Salem. Even the Salem part of the property is only a portion of what it had been. Yet it is still a sizable tract. I’m not sure how many acres, but quite a few.”

“That’s still extraordinary,” Edward said. “The only thing I inherited was my father’s dentures and a few of his masonry tools. To think that you can walk on land where your seventeenth-century relatives trod blows my mind. I thought that kind of experience was reserved for European royalty.”

“I can even do better than just walking on the land,” Kim said. “I can even go into the house. The old house still stands.”

“Now you’re pulling my leg,” Edward said. “I’m not that gullible.”

“I’m not fooling,” Kim said. “It’s not that unusual. There are a lot of seventeenth-century houses in the Salem area, including ones that belonged to other executed witches like Rebecca Nurse.”

“I had no idea,” Edward said.

“You ought to visit the Salem area sometime,” Kim said.

“What shape is the house in?” Edward asked.

“Pretty good, I guess,” Kim said. “I haven’t been in it for ages, not since I was a child. But it looks okay for a house built in 1670. It was bought by Ronald Stewart. It was his wife, Elizabeth, who was executed.”

“I remember Ronald’s name from Stanton’s toast,” Edward said. “He was the first Harvard man in the Stewart clan.”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Kim said.

“What are you and your brother going to do with the property?”

“Nothing for the time being,” Kim said. “At least not until Brian gets back from England where he’s currently running the family shipping business. He’s supposed to be home in a year or so, and we’ll decide then. Unfortunately the property is a white elephant considering the taxes and upkeep.”

“Did your grandfather live in the old house?” Edward asked.

“Oh, goodness no,” Kim said. “The old house hasn’t been lived in for years. Ronald Stewart bought a huge tract of land that abutted the original property and built a larger house, keeping the original house for tenants or servants. Over the years the larger house has been torn down and rebuilt many times. The last time was around the turn of the century. That was the house my grandfather lived in. Well, rattled around in would be a better term. It’s a huge, drafty old place.”

“I bet that old house has historical value,” Edward said.

“The Peabody-Essex Institute in Salem as well as the Society for the Preservation of New England Antiquities in Boston have both expressed interest in purchasing it,” Kim said. “But my mother is against the idea. I think she’s afraid of dredging up the witchcraft issue.”

“That’s too bad,” Edward said. Once again his slight stutter returned.

Kim looked at him. He seemed to be fidgeting while pretending to watch the Peruvians.

“Is something wrong?” Kim asked. She could sense his unease.

“No,” Edward said a little too forcefully. He pondered for a minute and then said, “I’m sorry, and I know I shouldn’t ask this, and you should just say no if it’s not convenient. I mean, I’d understand.”

“What is it?” Kim asked. She was mildly apprehensive.

“It’s just that I read those books I told you about,” Edward said. “What I mean to say is that I’d really like to see that old house. I know it is presumptuous of me to ask.”

“I’d be happy to show it to you,” Kim said with relief. “I have Saturday off this week. We could drive up there then if it’s convenient for you. I can get the keys from the lawyers.”

“It wouldn’t be too much of a bother?” Edward asked.

“Not at all,” Kim said.

“Saturday would be perfect,” Edward said. “In exchange perhaps you’d like to go to dinner Friday night?”

Kim smiled. “I accept. But now I think I’d better be getting home. The seven-thirty shift at the hospital starts awfully early.”

They slid off the concrete wall and strolled toward the subway entrance.

“Where do you live?” Edward asked.

“Beacon Hill,” Kim said.

“I hear that’s a great neighborhood,” Edward said.

“It’s convenient to the hospital,” Kim said. “And I have a great apartment. Unfortunately I have to move come September because my roommate is getting married and she has the lease.”

“I’ve got a similar problem,” Edward said. “I live in a charming apartment on the third floor of a private house, but the owners have a baby coming and need the space. So I have to be out September first as well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kim said.

“It’s not so bad,” Edward said. “I’ve been meaning to move for years, but I’ve just been putting it off.”

“Where’s the apartment?” Kim asked.

“Close by,” Edward said. “Within walking distance.” Then he added hesitantly: “Would you care to come over for a visit?”

“Maybe another night,” Kim said. “Like I said, morning comes early for me.”

They reached the entrance to the subway. Kim turned and looked up into Edward’s pale blue eyes. She liked what she saw; there was sensitivity.

“I want to congratulate you on asking to see the old house,” Kim said. “I know it wasn’t easy for you, and the reason I know is because it would have been equally difficult for me. In fact I probably couldn’t have done it at all.”

Edward blushed. Then he chuckled. “I’m certainly no Stanton Lewis,” he said. “The truth of the matter is that I can be kind of a klutz.”

“I think we have some similarities in that area,” Kim said. “I also think you are a lot more socially adept than you give yourself credit for.”

“You get the credit,” Edward said. “You make me feel relaxed, and since we’ve only just met, that’s saying something.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Kim said.

They gripped hands for a moment. Then Kim turned and hurried down into the subway.

Saturday, July 16, 1994

Edward double-parked on Beacon Street across from the Boston Common and ran into the foyer of Kim’s building. After ringing her bell, he kept his eye out for a Boston meter maid. He knew of their reputation from sore experience.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Kim said when she appeared. She was dressed in khaki shorts and a simple white T-shirt. Her dark, voluminous hair was pulled back in a pony tail.

“I’m sorry for being late,” Edward said. By mutual consent Edward was dressed in a similar, casual fashion. “I had to run by the lab.”

They both stared at each other for a beat, then burst out laughing.

“We’re too much,” Kim admitted.

“I can’t help it.” Edward chuckled. “I’m always apologizing. Even when it isn’t warranted. It’s ridiculous, but you know something? I wasn’t even aware of it until you pointed it out at dinner last night.”

“I only noticed it because I do it too,” Kim said. “After you dropped me off last night, I thought about it. I think it comes from feeling overly responsible.”

“You’re probably right,” Edward said. “When I was growing up I always thought it was my fault when something went wrong or someone was upset.”

“The similarities are frightening,” Kim mused with a smile.

They climbed into Edward’s Saab and headed north out of town. It was a bright, clear day, and even though it was early morning, the sun already gave adequate hint of its summer strength.