Robin Cook - Seizure

Michael could feel his pulse racing. He was also perspiring copiously. “I’m not good at this,” he whispered. He desperately wanted to find the silver box and leave. It took all his willpower to stay in the room.

Pushing off from the door, he went first to the desk. Centered on the blotter between two laptop shoulder bags was a room key for 408. After a moment’s hesitation, Michael picked it up and pocketed it. Rapidly, he searched the laptop bags: no silver case. It took only a moment for him to go through the desk drawers. Save for the hotel stationery, they were empty. Next was the bureau. It too was empty, except for laundry forms and plastic laundry bags. The small drawers of the nightstands were also empty. He checked the bathroom, but no silver box. Looking into the closet, he saw a safe and breathed a sigh of relief. The door was ajar and it was empty. He checked the pockets of a man’s jacket hanging on the rod: nothing.

Turning back into the room, he eyed the unlatched suitcases. They were on luggage stands at the foot of the bed. Approaching each in turn, he raised their lids and ran his hand around their peripheries. He encountered various and sundry objects but no silver box. He then carefully lifted the clothing to search more thoroughly. Suddenly, he heard voices, and to his horror, it sounded like American English. He stood up, frozen in place. In the next instant, he heard the worst sound he could have imagined. It was the sound of a key being thrust into the door lock!

3:45 P.M., Monday, February 25, 2002

“What on Earth?” Stephanie questioned. She was standing in the doorway to their room. Daniel peered over her shoulder.

“What’s the matter?” Daniel asked.

“There are flowers on the bureau,” Stephanie said. “Who in God’s name would be sending us flowers?”

“Butler?”

“He doesn’t know we’re here in Turin, unless you emailed him.”

“I didn’t email him,” Daniel said, as if it were totally out of the realm of possibility. “But with his intelligence connections, maybe he knows. After having me investigated, I wouldn’t put it past him. Or maybe Monsignor Mansoni communicated that the sample had been delivered.”

Stephanie walked over to the arrangement and opened the envelope. “Oh, for goodness sake. It’s just the hotel management.”

“That’s nice,” Daniel said indifferently. He went into the bathroom to use the toilet.

Stephanie moved over to her suitcase that was perched on the luggage stand. She had a pair of walking shoes tucked along the left side. Lifting up the unlatched top to the bag, she hesitated. A linen shirt she had painstakingly packed back in Boston was mildly amiss, with its edge folded over. With her finger, she righted the fold. As she feared, a crease remained, even after she tried to smooth it out with the palm of her hand. Mumbling one of her private vulgarities to herself, she started to reach for the walking shoes when her eye caught an article of lingerie, which was also slightly disarranged and which she had packed with equal care.

Stephanie righted herself and stared down at her open suitcase. “Daniel! Come in here!”

With the sound of the toilet flushing in the background, Daniel’s face appeared in the bathroom doorway. He was holding a towel. “What’s up?” he questioned with raised eyebrows. He could tell from the sound of her voice that she was mildly perturbed.

“Someone has been in our room!”

“We already knew that when we saw the flowers.”

“Come over here!”

Daniel slung the towel over his shoulder as he walked over to stand next to Stephanie. He followed her pointing finger and looked down at her open suitcase.

“Someone has been in my bag,” Stephanie said.

“How can you tell?”

Stephanie explained.

“Those are pretty subtle changes,” Daniel said. He patted her patronizingly on her back. “You’ve been in your bag yourself before we went out. Are you sure you’re not having a minor attack of paranoia, thanks to the Cambridge break-in?”

“Someone has been in my bag!” Stephanie repeated heatedly. She pushed his hand away. With her jet lag and being overtired, she felt instantly frustrated that Daniel was being so dismissive. “Look in your suitcase!”

Rolling his eyes, Daniel opened his unlatched bag on the stand next to Stephanie’s. “Okay, I’m looking in mine,” he reported.

“Anything amiss?”

Daniel shrugged. He was far from the world’s neatest packer, and he had rummaged in his bag earlier when retrieving clean underwear. All at once, he froze, then slowly raised his eyes to Stephanie’s. “My God! There is something missing!”

“What?” Stephanie clutched Daniel’s arm as she looked into his bag.

“Somebody took my vial of plutonium!”

Stephanie swatted Daniel’s shoulder. He responded by protecting himself in an exaggerated fashion from further blows, which never came.

“I’m being serious,” Stephanie complained stridently. Returning to her own bag, she picked up her hairbrush and brandished it. “Here’s something else! When we left on our outing, this brush was directly on top of my clothes, not lying in the suitcase’s gutter. I remember because I thought about taking it back into the bathroom. I’m telling you: Someone has been in my bag!”

“All right! All right!” Daniel soothed. “Take it easy!”

Stephanie reached into her bag’s side pocket and pulled out a zippered velvet pouch. She opened it and peered inside. “At least my jewelry is okay, including the little bit of cash that I keep in here. It’s a good thing I didn’t bring anything truly valuable.”

“Maybe housekeeping had to move the bags?” Daniel suggested.

“Give me a break!” Stephanie responded, as if Daniel’s suggestion was preposterous. Her eyes wandered around the room until they came to rest on the desk. “My room key is gone! I left it on the blotter.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t you remember we talked about it before we left, whether we needed two keys?”

“Vaguely.”

Stephanie strode into the bathroom. Daniel’s eyes roamed the room. He couldn’t decide if Stephanie’s paranoia was worth indulging, since he was aware she was still upset about the intruder in Cambridge. He knew that hotel people such as housekeeping, minibar stockers, room-service personnel, and bellmen were in and out of rooms all the time. Maybe one of them had poked their hands into her bag. For some people, it might be a huge temptation.

“Someone has also been in my cosmetics bag,” Stephanie called from the bathroom.

Daniel walked to the door and stood on the threshold. “Is anything missing?”

“No, nothing is missing!” Stephanie answered irritably.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me!”

Stephanie straightened up, shut her eyes, and took a deep breath. She nodded a few times. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, just frustrated you’re not as upset about this as I.”

“If we were missing something, it would be different.”

Stephanie closed the cover of her makeup bag. She stepped over to Daniel and put her arms around him. He enveloped her similarly.

“It upsets me when people paw through my belongings, especially after what happened the day before we left.”

“That’s entirely understandable,” Daniel said.

“It is curious nothing is missing, like the cash. That makes this episode exactly like the one in Cambridge, although having it happen here is more confusing. At least there we could postulate industrial espionage, even if it’s unlikely. What could someone be looking for here if not valuables and cash?”

“The only thing I can think of is the shroud sample.”