Robin Cook - Mindbend

“Are they prostitutes?” asked Adam, thinking it would be good to know for sure before Heather’s visit.

José shook his head, laughing. “No, they’re college girls working for extra credit. What kind of question is that?”

“Do you ever get to see them?” asked Adam.

“I wish,” said José. “Listen, they never let us mingle with those weirdos who run the cruise. But I did see one of the girls on a beach in Puerto Rico about a year ago. I tried to get some action, but she wasn’t interested. I was pretty drunk and tried to grab her. That’s when I found out she was wearing a wig. It came off, and her head was shaved. On either temple there were big round scars. Now tell me that isn’t weird.”

“What had happened to her?” asked Adam.

“I never found out,” said José. “She kneed me and suddenly I lost interest.”

“What a cruise,” said Adam, picking up his parcel.

“What’s the matter?” asked José. “You’re not enjoying yourself?”

When the phone rang, Jennifer had a premonition it was Dr. Vandermer. She heard her mother answer and then a moment later give a little shriek. That was when Jennifer knew. She started downstairs before her mother could call her. When she reached the kitchen, Mrs. Carson wordlessly held out the receiver.

“Hello, Dr. Vandermer,” Jennifer said, controlling her voice.

“Hello, Jennifer,” he said. There was a long pause. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“I expected it,” she said. She could sense that Dr. Vandermer was struggling to find the right words.

“The amniocentesis is definitely positive,” he said. “This time I supervised the straining of the amniotic fluid myself. There was no chance of error. The same major chromosomal abnormality is there. In fact, the specimens were never mixed up. I’m afraid that in addition to Down’s syndrome, your fetus must have significant developmental abnormality of its sex organs.”

“Oh God,” said Jennifer. “That’s terrible.”

“It is,” agreed Dr. Vandermer. “Look, if we are going to do something, I think we should act quickly.”

“I agree. I’ve thought it over carefully, and I want to have an abortion. The sooner the better.”

“In that case I’ll try to arrange it for tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Dr. Vandermer,” said Jennifer. Then she hung up.

Mrs. Carson put her arms around her daughter and said, “I know how you must feel, but I believe you are doing the right thing.”

“I know I am. I just want to talk to Adam.”

Mrs. Carson’s mouth tightened angrily.

“Mother, he’s still my husband, and I don’t want to do this without telling him.”

“Well, dear, whatever you think best.” Her mother left the kitchen and went upstairs, probably to complain about Adam to her husband on the other phone.

As soon as she was alone, Jennifer dialed the apartment just in case Adam had returned. She let it ring twenty times before hanging up and dialing information for Arolen Pharmaceuticals in Montclair, New Jersey. When the Arolen switchboard answered, she demanded to speak to Clarence McGuire. She wasn’t put through until she’d had a shouting match with his secretary.

“How are you, Mrs. Schonberg?” McGuire said when he finally came on the line.

“Not very well,” said Jennifer coldly. “I want to know where my husband is.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know myself. He called in and said he had to go out of town because of family problems.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” asked Jennifer. “I thought you’d sent him to Puerto Rico.”

“He turned down the offer,” said McGuire. “And there’s no reason for me to lie to you.”

Jennifer hung up feeling confused. She’d been so certain that Adam was on a trip for Arolen and hadn’t wanted to tell her, she had trouble conceiving of any other possibility. Impulsively, she placed a call to Adam’s father.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Dr. Schonberg,” said Jennifer, who’d never called the man before, “but I’m looking for Adam and I thought you might know where he is.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Dr. Schonberg, “and you of all people should know that.”

Jennifer hung up the phone as her mother came back into the kitchen. She must have overheard Jennifer’s conversation with McGuire. “Better not tell your father this,” she said. “He already thinks Adam is having an affair.”

Adam was nervous. He’d been handed another yellow capsule about six o’clock, and the stewards were watching him carefully during dinner. Afraid that they were realizing he was avoiding their treatment, Adam resorted to hiding food in his napkin to make it look like he was eating. As soon as he could, he left the dining room. On the way back to his cabin he checked out the infirmary. It was an impressive setup with a full operating room and fancy radiological equipment. But there were no patients in the small ward.

As he passed Alan’s room, he opened the door, expecting to see an empty cabin. To his surprise, Alan was in bed and in essentially the same condition as he’d been in before his disappearance. Adam roused him. Alan seemed to know where he was but insisted he had never left his room. Adam eased him back onto the bed and returned to his own cabin.

Coming on the cruise to discover why Vandermer had changed his position on pregdolen had seemed like a good idea in the safety of New York. Now Adam only wanted to get home safe and sound to his wife. He remembered someone explaining to him that the reason Arolen sent the doctors on a cruise was to get them away from their usual cares. But drugging them so they didn’t know what they were doing was more than extreme. It was terrifying.

A knock on Adam’s door sent his pulse racing. He hoped it wasn’t the blank-faced steward with another pill.

“Oh God,” said Adam when he saw it was Heather.

“I’m so glad they let me off the last set,” she said, coming in and looking about the small cabin. She was wearing a see-through blouse and what must have been the shortest skirt Adam had ever seen. She did have a marvelous figure. I’m crazy, thought Adam, unable to take his eyes off her. How on earth would he go about explaining this scene to Jennifer?

“Heather, why don’t you sit down so I can talk with you?”

Heather stopped the little dance she was doing about the room. “Sure,” she said, dropping onto the bed next to Adam and pressing her bare thigh against his leg. With two dainty kicks she sent her high heels across the room.

“What would you like to talk about?”

“You,” said Adam, finding it difficult not to look down at the curve of her breasts.

“I’d rather talk about you,” said Heather, putting her arms around his neck.

“That’s what you told me at lunch,” said Adam, gently pushing her away, “but I really want to get to know you.”

“There’s not a whole lot to tell,” insisted Heather.

“Look, this isn’t a run-of-the-mill job for a young girl. How did you happen to end up here?”

Heather didn’t answer. At first Adam believed she was thinking, but when he looked at her, she appeared to be in a trance.

“Heather?” said Adam, waving his hand in front of her eyes.

“Yes,” she said, blinking.

“I asked you a question.”

“Oh, yeah. How did I end up on the Fjord? Well, it’s a long story. I was a secretary at Arolen Pharmaceuticals in New Jersey. They liked me and offered me a job with MTIC in Puerto Rico. I started as a secretary there, too, but then they found out I liked to dance, so I got this job.”

That explained the dancing, thought Adam, but not the prostitution, if she actually was a prostitute. Adam was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.