Robin Cook - Seizure

“You’ll be hearing from us shortly.”

“We’ll be here!”

The screaming jet engines made the walls of Spencer’s office shudder as the Boeing intercontinental 767 passed over the Wingate Clinic at an altitude of less than five hundred feet in preparation for landing. With the building’s heavy insulation, the vibration was more tactile than audible though strong enough to jiggle Spencer’s array of framed diplomas. Spencer was already accustomed to the daily intermittent disturbance and paid no heed other than to absently right his diplomas on occasion.

“How did I do?” Spencer yelled through the open door.

Paul Saunders appeared in the doorway after having listened to Spencer’s conversation with Daniel from his office next door. “Well, let’s look on the bright side. You didn’t find out the name of the patient, but you managed to eliminate close to half the world’s rich and famous. We now know it is a man.”

“Very funny,” Spencer said. “We didn’t expect him to give us the name on a silver platter. But I did get him to up the offer to forty-five thousand and agree to allow you to observe the cellular work. That’s not bad.”

“But you didn’t press him on the favorable licensing issue. That could save us big bucks with our burgeoning stem cell therapy down the line.”

“Yeah, well, he had a point. He’s running a corporation.”

“It might be a corporation, but it’s a private company, and dollars to donuts, he’s the major stockholder by a long shot.”

“Well, we win some and lose some. Anyway, I didn’t scare him off. Remember that was one of our worries-that if we pressed too hard, he’d go somewhere else.”

“I’ve reconsidered that worry, provided he was telling us the truth about his tight time frame. We’re probably the only place that can supply him overnight with a first-rate lab, a hospital setting, and human oocytes with no questions asked. But it doesn’t matter. Our potential bonanza payoff is going to come from finding out the name of the patient. I’m convinced of it. And the sooner we find out, the better.”

“I couldn’t agree more, and to that end, I did find out Lowell was at his office for the day, which was the real purpose of the call.”

“True! And I have to give you credit for that. As soon as you hung up, I called Kurt Hermann to let him know. He said he’d relay the information immediately to his compatriot who’s positioned in Boston, waiting to break into Lowell’s apartment.”

“I hope this compatriot, as you’ve called him, is capable of finesse. If Lowell gets spooked-or, even worse, hurt-the whole thing might be off.”

“I specifically relayed your fears about heavy-handedness to Kurt.”

“And what did he say?”

“You know Kurt doesn’t say much. But he understands.”

“I hope you are right, because we could truly use a financial windfall. With what we’ve spent getting this place up and running, the well is just about dry, and besides our stem-cell work, there’s very little infertility business on the immediate horizon.”

“Dr. Spencer Wingate sounds just like the sleaze I feared,” Stephanie said. She’d come back into Daniel’s office after listening in on the conversation. “He talks about bribery as if it were an everyday occurrence.”

“Maybe it is in the Bahamas,” Daniel said.

“I hope he’s short, fat, and has a wart on his nose.”

Daniel gave Stephanie a confused look.

“Maybe he’s a chain-smoker and has bad breath.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“If Spencer Wingate looks as bad as he sounds, maybe I won’t lose complete faith in the medical profession. I know it is irrational, but I don’t want him to look anything like my mental image of a physician. It scares me to think he’s a practicing doctor. And that goes for his partners as well.”

“Oh, come on, Stephanie! Don’t be so naïve. The medical profession, like any profession, is far from perfect. There are good ones and bad ones, with the majority somewhere in between.”

“I thought self-regulation was part of the definition of this profession. Anyway, the real issue is that I wish my intuition wasn’t telling me that working with these people is a bad idea.”

“For the last time,” Daniel said with frustration, “we’re not working with those clowns. God forbid! We’re using their facilities and that’s it. End of story.”

“Let’s hope it’s that simple,” Stephanie said.

Daniel returned Stephanie’s gaze. They’d been together long enough for him to tell that she was not buying his simple assessment, and it irritated him that she wasn’t being more supportive. The problem was, her misgivings called attention to his own, which he was actively trying to ignore. He wanted to believe the whole episode was going to go smoothly and soon be over, but Stephanie’s negativity kept undermining his hopes.

The fax sprang to life out in the reception area.

“I’ll see what it is,” Stephanie said. She got up and went out of the room.

Daniel watched her go. It was a relief to escape her stare. People had a way of irritating him-even Stephanie, on occasion. He wondered if he’d be better off alone.

“It’s the release from Butler already,” Stephanie called out. “Signed and witnessed along with a note saying the hard copy is in the mail.”

“Great!” Daniel yelled back. At least Butler’s cooperation was encouraging.

“The cover sheet asks if we have checked our email this afternoon.” Stephanie appeared at the door with a questioning expression. “I didn’t check. Did you?”

Daniel shook his head and tilted forward, connecting to the Internet. At the new, special email account set up for Butler’s treatment, there was a message from the senator. Stephanie came around Daniel’s desk and looked over his shoulder as he opened it.

My dear doctors,

I hope this note finds you busy with your preparations for my imminent treatment. I too have been productively occupied, and I am happy to report that the custodians of the Shroud of Turin have been most helpful, thanks to the intercession by an influential colleague. You are to travel to Turin at your first opportunity. Upon arrival, you will call the Chancery of the Archdiocese of Turin to speak with Monsignor Mansoni. You will inform the monsignor that you are my representatives. At that point, my understanding is that the monsignor will arrange a meeting at an appropriate location to give you the sacred sample. Please understand that this is to be done with the utmost discretion and secrecy, so as not to jeopardize my esteemed colleague. Meanwhile, I remain your dear friend.

A.B.

Daniel took a moment to delete the message just as he and Stephanie had made a point of deleting the senator’s other emails. It had been their collective decision that there was to be as little evidence as possible of the affair. When he was done, he looked up at her. “The senator is certainly doing his part.”

Stephanie nodded. “I’m impressed. I’m also starting to get excited. The affair is definitely acquiring a touch of international intrigue.”

“When can you be ready to leave? Alitalia has daily flights to Rome that depart in the evening with connections to Turin. Remember, you’re going to have to pack for a month.”

“Packing is not the problem,” Stephanie said. “My two problems are my mom and Butler’s tissue culture. I need to spend some time with my mom, as I mentioned. I also want to get Butler’s tissue culture to a point where Peter can take over.”

“How much time are you talking about with the culture?”

“Not long. As good as it looks this morning, probably by tomorrow morning I’ll be satisfied. I just want to be sure a true monolayer is forming. Then Peter can maintain it, passage it, and cryopreserve it. My plan is for him to overnight an aliquot down to Nassau in a liquid-nitrogen container when we’re ready for it. We’ll keep the rest of the culture here in case we need it in the future.”