Robin Cook - Acceptable Risk

“Kinnard!” Edward said, breaking away from Kim. “Don’t be a stranger now that you know where we are. Kim needs some company. Unfortunately I’m a bit preoccupied for the immediate future.”

Edward gave a high-pitched whistle which made Kim cringe. Buffer trotted out from the kitchen.

“See you guys later,” Edward said with a wave. A second later the front door banged shut.

For a moment Kim and Kinnard merely looked at each other.

“Did I agree or what?” Kim questioned.

“It happened kind of fast,” Kinnard admitted.

Kim stepped to the window and watched Edward and Buffer crossing the field. Edward threw a stick for the dog.

“He’s a lot more friendly than when I worked in his lab,” Kinnard said. “You’ve had a big effect on him. He was always so stiff and serious. In fact he was downright nerdy.”

“He’s been under a lot of pressure,” Kim said. She was still watching from the window. Edward and Buffer seemed to be having a marvelous time with the fetching game.

“You’d never guess, the way he’s acting,” Kinnard said.

Kim turned to Kinnard. She shook her head and rubbed her forehead nervously. “Now what have I gotten myself into?” she asked. “I’m not completely comfortable with Edward’s people staying in the castle.”

“How many are there?” Kinnard questioned.

“Five,” Kim said.

“Is the castle empty?” Kinnard asked.

“No one is living there if that’s what you mean,” Kim said. “But it surely isn’t empty. You want to see?”

“Sure,” Kinnard said.

Five minutes later Kinnard was standing in the center of the two-storied great room. A look of disbelief dominated his face.

“I understand your concern,” he said. “This place is like a museum. The furniture is incredible, and I’ve never seen so much fabric for drapes.”

“They were made in the twenties,” Kim said. “I was told it took a thousand yards.”

“Jeez, that’s over a half mile,” Kinnard said with awe.

“My brother and I inherited this from our grandfather,” Kim explained. “We haven’t the slightest idea what to do with it all. Still, I don’t know what my father or brother will say about five strangers living in here.”

“Let’s look at where they would stay,” Kinnard said.

They inspected the wings. There were four bedrooms in each, and each had its own stairway and door to the exterior.

“With separate entrances and stairs they won’t have to traverse the main part of the house,” Kinnard pointed out.

“Good point,” Kim said. They were standing in one of the servants’ bedrooms. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. The three men can stay in this wing and the two women over in the guest wing.”

Kinnard poked his head into the connecting bath. “Uh oh,” he said. “Kim, come in here!”

Kim joined him. “What’s the problem?”

Kinnard pointed to the toilet. “No water in the bowl,” he said. He leaned over the sink and turned on the faucet. Nothing came out. “Some kind of plumbing problem.”

They checked the other bathrooms in the servants’ wing. None of them had water. Crossing to the guest wing, they found that the problem, whatever it was, was confined to the servants’ wing.

“I’ll have to call the plumber,” Kim said.

“It could be something simple like the water has just been turned off,” Kinnard said.

Leaving the guest wing, they walked through the main part of the house again.

“The Peabody-Essex Institute would love this place,” Kinnard said.

“They’d love to get their hands on the contents of the attic and the wine cellar,” Kim said. “Both are filled with old papers, letters, and documents that go back three hundred years.”

“This I gotta see,” Kinnard said. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Kim said. They reversed directions and climbed the stairs to the attic.

Kim opened the door and gestured for Kinnard to enter. “Welcome to the Stewart archives,” she said.

Kinnard walked down the central aisle looking at all the files. He shook his head. He was floored. “I used to collect stamps when I was a boy,” he said. “Many a day I dreamed of finding a place like this. Who knows what you could find?”

“There’s an equal amount in the basement,” Kim said. Kinnard’s delight gave her pleasure.

“I could spend a month in here,” Kinnard said.

“I practically have,” Kim said. “I’ve been searching for references to one of my ancestors named Elizabeth Stewart who’d been caught up in the witchcraft frenzy in 1692.”

“No kidding,” Kinnard said. “I find all that stuff fascinating. Remember, my undergraduate major was American History.”

“I’d forgotten,” Kim said.

“I visited most of the Salem witchcraft sites while I’ve been out here on rotation,” Kinnard said. “My mom came for a visit and we went together.”

“Why didn’t you take the blonde from the ER?” Kim asked before she had a chance to think about what she was saying.

“I couldn’t,” Kinnard said. “She got homesick and went back to Columbus, Ohio. How are things going for you? It looks like your relationship with Dr. Armstrong is alive and well.”

“It’s had its ups and downs,” Kim said vaguely.

“How was your ancestor involved in the witchcraft episode?” Kinnard asked.

“She was accused as a witch,” Kim said. “And she was executed.”

“How come you never told me that before?” Kinnard said.

“I was involved in a cover-up,” Kim said with a laugh. “Seriously, I had been conditioned by my mother not to talk about it. But that’s changed. Now getting to the bottom of her case has become a mini-crusade with me.”

“Have you had any luck?” Kinnard said.

“Some,” Kim said. “But there is a lot of material here and it has been taking me longer than I’d anticipated.”

Kinnard put his hand on the handle of a file drawer and glanced at Kim. “May I?” he asked.

“Be my guest,” Kim said.

Like most of the drawers in the attic it was filled with an assortment of papers, envelopes, and notebooks. Kinnard rummaged through but didn’t find any stamps. Finally he picked up one of the envelopes and slipped out the letter. “No wonder there’s no stamps in here,” he said. “Stamps weren’t invented until the end of the nineteenth century. This letter is from 1698!”

Kim took the envelope. It was addressed to Ronald.

“You lucky son of a gun,” Kim said. “This is the kind of letter I’ve been breaking my back to find, and you just walk in here and pluck it out like there was nothing to it.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” Kinnard said. He handed the letter to Kim.

Kim read the letter aloud:

12th October 1698

Cambridge Dearest Father,

I am deeply grateful for the ten shillings as I have been in dire need during these troublesome days of acclimation to colledge life. Ever so humbly I should like to relate that I have had complete success in the endeavor about which we had much discours prior to my matriculation. After lengthy and arduous inquiry I located the evidence used against my Dearly Departed Mother in the chambers of one of our esteemed tutors who had taken a fancy to its gruesome nature. Its prominent display caused me some disquietude but Tuesday last during the afternoon bever when all were retired to the buttery I chanced a visit to the aforesaid chambers and changed the name as you instructed to the fictitious Rachel Bingham. To a like purpose I entered the same in the catalogue in the library of Harvard Hall. I hope Dear Father that now you find solace that the surname Stewart has been freed from its most grievous molestation. In consideration of my studies I can with some felicity relate that my recitations have been well received. My chamber-mates are hale and of a most agreeable nature. Apart from the fagging about which you aptly forewarned me, I am well and content and