Robin Cook - Seizure

“That would be problematic,” Daniel responded. “To get you out of Kurt Hermann’s private jail cell immediately, which I thought was of prime importance for all concerned, I signed a confidentiality agreement that precluded doing what you just suggested. These people we are dealing with might be crazy, but they are not stupid. The agreement also spelled out what we are doing at the Wingate, meaning that if their secret is revealed, they will reveal ours, which could undo everything we’ve tried to accomplish by treating Butler.”

Stephanie absently twirled her wineglass, which she had otherwise not touched. “What about this idea?” Stephanie said suddenly. “Maybe once Butler is cured, he won’t be so emphatic about secrecy.”

“I suppose that’s a possibility,” Daniel offered.

“Can we then say we will at least leave the issue open for discussion down the road?”

“I suppose,” Daniel repeated. “I mean, who knows? Things might happen that we have not anticipated.”

“That seems like a fair description of the whole affair to date.”

“Very funny!”

“Well, nothing has happened exactly as we’ve planned!”

“That’s not quite true. Thanks to you, the cellular work has progressed exactly as we planned. By the time Butler gets here, we could have ten cell lines available, any one of which could cure him. What I need to know is whether you are with me, so we can complete what we need to do and get out of Nassau.”

“I do have one more demand,” Stephanie said.

“Oh?”

“I want you to make it clear to Spencer Wingate that you’re not happy he is making inappropriate overtures toward me. And while we’re on the subject, why have you been so passive about it? It’s humiliating. You’ve never even brought it up between us.”

“I’m just trying not to make waves.”

“That’s making waves! I don’t understand! If Sheila Donaldson was making equivalent overtures to you, I would certainly support you however you wanted me to.”

“Spencer Wingate is a self-centered blowhard egotist who thinks he’s a gift to womankind. I was confident you could handle him without turning the situation into a bad scene.”

“It’s already been a bad scene. He’s become progressively and offensively insistent, even to the point of touching me, although after today’s flap, maybe he’ll be less so. Anyway, I want some support from you about this. Okay?”

“All right! Okay!” Daniel said. “Is that it? Can we just move on and finish this whole Butler affair?”

Stephanie nodded. “I suppose,” she said without a lot of enthusiasm.

Daniel ran his fingers through his hair several times, puffed up his cheeks, and then let his breath out like a balloon deflating. He smiled weakly. “I’m sorry again for what I said a little while ago. I’ve just been beside myself since hearing you were locked up in that jail cell. I thought for sure we were going to be kicked out of the Wingate because of your nosing around, just when we were in sight of success.”

Stephanie silently wondered if Daniel had any inkling of how self-centered he was himself. “I hope you are not leading up to saying I shouldn’t have gone into the egg room.”

“No, not at all,” Daniel admitted. “I understand that you did what you felt you had to do. I’m just glad that ultimately our project hasn’t been derailed. But this episode has made me realize something else. We’ve been so busy and preoccupied that we haven’t taken a moment to ourselves other than to eat.” Daniel put his head back and looked up through the palm fronds at the star-speckled sky. “I mean, here we are in the Bahamas in the middle of the winter, and we haven’t taken advantage of it in any way or form.”

“Are you suggesting something in particular?” Stephanie asked. Occasionally, Daniel surprised her.

“I am,” he answered. He took his napkin off his lap and plopped it onto his dinner plate. “Neither of us seems particularly hungry, and we’re both stressed. Why don’t we take a moonlit stroll up through the hotel’s formal garden and visit that medieval cloister we saw from a distance on our walk our first morning here. We were both curious about it, and it would be awfully appropriate. In the middle ages, cloisters were shelters from the turmoil of the real world.”

Stephanie lifted her own napkin and put it on the table. Despite her current aggravation with Daniel and the further questions it raised about her future relationship with him, she couldn’t help but smile at his cleverness and razor-sharp intellect, traits that had had a lot to do with her initial attraction to him. She stood up. “That might be the best suggestion you’ve made in six months.”

This looks promising! Gaetano said to himself as he saw Stephanie’s head and then Daniel’s appear over the top of the oleander that blocked his view of their table. He’d seen Stephanie’s for a moment earlier, but she had apparently sat back down. Gaetano hunkered down in his chair, lest Daniel chance to look up at the ensemble on the balcony. Gaetano fully expected the couple to make their way in his direction and pass the hostess desk directly below on their way back to their suite. But they fooled him. They started off in the opposite direction and never looked back.

“Crap!” Gaetano mumbled. Every time he thought he had everything under control, something unexpected happened. He glanced over at the lead musician, with whom he’d made eye contact during the time he’d been waiting. The man had been demonstrably appreciative of Gaetano’s attention. Gaetano smiled and gave a little wave as he got to his feet.

At first Gaetano walked at a normal pace along the balcony to avoid giving the impression that he was hurrying. But once he was far enough away from the musicians, he upped his pace while keeping a hand on the gun in his pants pocket to keep it from banging against his leg. In the courtyard below, the professor and the girl had already disappeared into the spa that occupied the first floor of the eastern end of the building.

At the opposite end of the balcony, Gaetano skidded to a stop at the head of the stairs. He descended rapidly, still clutching the gun through the fabric of his slacks. When he arrived at the spa door, he stopped, briefly composed himself, made sure he wasn’t being observed by anyone in the restaurant, and then slowly opened it. He had no idea what to expect. If the professor and the girl were in sight, signing up for a treatment, he’d just back out and rethink what he should do. But the spa was shut for the night, as evidenced by a sign on the empty reception desk illuminated by a single votive candle. All at once, Gaetano remembered having passed through the same area on his first visit when he had been searching for the hotel’s pool. Guessing the pool was the professor and his girlfriend’s destination, he hurried across the empty room and out the other side.

Gaetano was now in the section of the hotel grounds composed of individual villas. Splotches of dim light defined each entrance, but the area was otherwise dark beneath a canopy of palms. Gaetano walked briskly, remembering the route. He was pleased. Guessing the pool and its snack bar would also be closed and deserted, he’d have his choice of appropriate locations to do what he needed to do.

As he rounded a sharp right-hand turn in the walkway, Gaetano caught a glimpse of the professor and Tony’s sister before they disappeared down a short run of stairs beyond a baroque limestone balustrade. Gaetano picked up his pace again. Reaching the balustrade, he looked out over the pool area. As he had expected, it was closed for the night, and the surrounding buildings were dark. The pool itself was illuminated with underwater lights and appeared like a huge, flat emerald.