Robin Cook - Shock

After sitting in the van for almost a half hour, Kurt decided the time was right. The level of activity in the square had diminished but was not so quiet he'd stand out as a stranger. Kurt got out of the van and locked it. After a final, casual glance around the area, Kurt set out for number one Louisburg Square.

With his van keys in his hand, Kurt went up the steps to the building's front door. Holding the keys as if he were having unexpected trouble with the lock, Kurt went to work with the lock-picking tools. It took him longer than he'd anticipated, but the cylinder finally yielded to his efforts. Without looking back, Kurt pushed in the door and stepped inside the building.

The squeals of the children still playing in the square died away as the door closed. Without rushing, Kurt put away his tools and started up the stairs. He knew from the doorbell panel that Deborah Cochrane and Joanna Meissner occupied the fourth floor. He assumed that Joanna Meissner was Prudence Heatherly, but he intended to confirm that assumption.

With each flight, Kurt's excitement built. He truly loved the type of action he was anticipating. In his mind's eye he could see Georgina Marks dressed in her disgustingly provocative dress. He wanted her alive for sure, and he wanted her back in his villa on the Wingate grounds.

Cresting the third flight, Kurt pulled on a pair of the gloves. He then reached around and gripped the Clock with his right hand but kept the gun holstered. With his left hand raised, he was about to knock when he heard the front door to the building open on the first floor below. Kurt did not panic as a less-experienced man might have. He merely stepped over to the railing and looked down the stairwell. He thought it might have been the women, but it wasn't. Instead it was a solitary man trudging up the stairs after a day at the office. Kurt couldn't see the individual except for his arm gripping the banister.

Kurt prepared himself for whatever confrontation was going to occur. His plan was to start down as if on his way out if the individual began to climb the third flight. But the ruse wasn't necessary. The man stopped on the second floor, keyed open a door, and disappeared. The hallway lapsed back into its sepulchral stillness.

Kurt went back to the door to the fourth-floor apartment. He knocked loud enough for the occupants to hear if they were home, but not loud enough to disturb other people in the building. He waited, but when no one responded and he could hear no sounds from within, he went back to work with his lock-picking tools. As was typically the case in Kurt's experience, the interior apartment door was more of a challenge than the outer door, mainly because it had two locks: a regular lock and a separate deadbolt.

The regular lock was easy, but the deadbolt took patience. Finally it gave way and opened. In the next instant Kurt was within the apartment and had the door closed. With speed that belied his earlier slow and deliberate movement, Kurt dashed through the apartment to make certain it was empty. He didn't want to give anyone a chance to make a 911 call. To be complete, he checked every room and every closet. He even peered under the beds.

Once he was satisfied he was alone in the unit, he checked the alternate exit. It was a fire escape that zigzagged its way down the back of the house. Its access was through the window of the rear bedroom. Walking back through the bedroom, Kurt caught a glimpse of a photo of a young couple. The woman looked similar enough to Prudence Heatherly despite the longer hair for Kurt to be certain the two women he was after were roommates and that Joanna Meissner was Prudence Heatherly.

Passing out of the bedroom and down the hall, Kurt entered the living room. Going over to the desk, he searched for any papers suggesting an association with the Wingate Clinic. He didn't find any, but he did find some material relating to the two aliases the women had used. Kurt carefully folded these sheets and pocketed them.

Continuing on, Kurt found a photo of Georgina. He preferred to relate to her as Georgina rather than Deborah. In the photo Georgina had her arm around an older woman Kurt assumed was Georgina's mother. He was astounded how different Georgina looked in dark hair and chaste attire. Her lascivious transformation was clearly the work of the devil.

Kurt put the photo down and opened up the top drawer of the bureau. Reaching in he pulled out a silky pair of lace panties. Despite the latex gloves that dampened his sense of touch, there was something about the feel of the lingerie that excited him.

Leaving the second bedroom, Kurt walked back through the living room and into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator door, he was disappointed. He'd expected a cold beer, and the fact. there was none irritated him immeasurably.

Returning to the living room Kurt removed the Clock from i: small of his back and placed it on the floor. Then he sat down: the couch. He checked his watch. It was well after seven, and he wondered how long he'd have to wait for Georgina and Prudence to return.

"IT'S CALLED WAARDENBURG SYNDROME," CARLTON SAID. He nodded as if agreeing with himself, then sat back with a proud expression on his youthful face. He and the women were sitting at a Formica table in the middle of the MGH basement cafeteria where he'd brought them for a quick bite of supper since nor of them had eaten. Carlton was on call that night and had warned them he could be paged for some emergency at any moment.

"What in God's name is the Waardenburg Syndrome?" Joanna asked impatiently. Carlton's response suggested he'd not been listening to what she'd been saying. She'd just finished describing the shock she and Deborah had had in discovering the two cloned children.

"Waardenburg Syndrome is a developmental abnormality,' Carlton said. "It's characterized by white forelock, congenital sensorineural hearing loss, dystopia canthorum, and heterochromic irises."

Joanna glanced at Deborah for a moment. Deborah rolled her eyes indicating she had the same reaction. It was as if Carlton was on another planet.

"Carlton, listen!" Joanna said, trying to be patient. "We're not on hospital rounds like you've described to me in the past. We're not grading you, so you don't have to spout off with this medical minutia. It's the forest that's important, not the tree."

"I thought you'd want to know what this doctor you've described has," Carlton said. "It's a hereditary condition involving the migration of auditory cells from the neural crest. It's no wonder the cloned kids have it. His legitimate kids would have it, too."

"Are you trying to suggest that these kids we've described aren't clones?" Joanna questioned.

"No, they're probably clones," Carlton said. "With the normal genetic shuffling that would occur in a normally fertilized egg, there would be variable penetration, even of dominant genes. The kids wouldn't look exactly the same. There'd be significant variation of the same characteristics."

"Are you trying to be abstruse on purpose?" Joanna demanded.

"No, I'm trying to help."

"But you still think these children are clones, am I right?" Deborah chimed in.

"Absolutely, from how you've described them," Carlton admitted.

"Doesn't that shock you?" Joanna questioned. "We're not talking about fruit flies or even sheep. We're talking about cloning human beings."

"To tell you the truth I'm not all that surprised," Carlton admitted. He sat forward again. "As far as I'm concerned it was just a matter of time. Once Dolly was cloned, I thought human cloning would happen eventually, and it would happen in the kind of environment you've described: a non-university-based infertility clinic. Many of the infertility guys, particularly the mavericks have been bantering around about cloning and threatening to do it since Dolly was announced."