Robin Cook - Chromosome 6

“Let’s at least enjoy our last supper,” Melanie said with her typical wry humor. “Besides, the more I think about it, the less likely I think it is that they can just foist us off on the Equatoguineans. I mean, they wouldn’t be able to get away with it. This is almost the beginning of the third millennium. The world is too small.”

“But I’m worried…” Candace began.

“Excuse me,” Kevin interrupted. “Esmeralda told me something curious that I’d like to share with you.” Kevin started by mentioning the phone call he got in the middle of the night from Taylor Cabot. Then he told the story about the arrival and subsequent incarceration of the New Yorkers in the town’s jail.

“Well, this’s just what I’m talking about,” Melanie said. “A couple of smart people do an autopsy in New York, and they end up here in Cogo. And we thought we were so isolated. I tell you the world’s getting smaller every day.”

“So you think these Americans came here following a trail that started with Franconi?” Kevin asked. His intuition was telling him the same thing, but he wanted reinforcement.

“What else could it be?” Melanie questioned. “There’s no question in my mind.”

“Candace, what do you think?” Kevin asked.

“I agree with Melanie,” Candace said. “Otherwise, it’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Thank you, Candace!” Melanie said. While twirling her empty wineglass, she looked menacingly at Kevin. “I hate to interrupt this fascinating conversation, but where’s some of that great wine of yours, bucko?”

“Gosh, I totally forgot,” Kevin said. “Sorry!” He pushed back from the table and went into the butler’s pantry that he’d filled with his mostly untouched wine allocation. As he was looking through the labels, which held little meaning for him, he was suddenly struck by how much wine he had. Counting the bottles in a small area and extrapolating it to allow for the entire room, he realized he had more than three hundred bottles.

“My word,” Kevin said as a plan began to form in his head. He grabbed an armload of bottles and pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen.

Esmeralda got up from where she was sitting having her own dinner.

“I have a favor to ask,” Kevin said. “Would you take these bottles of wine and a corkscrew down to the soldiers at the foot of the stairs?”

“So many?” she questioned.

“Yes, and I’d like you to take even more to the soldiers in the town hall. If they ask what the occasion is, tell them that I’m going away, and I wanted them to enjoy the wine, not the manager.”

A smile spread across Esmeralda’s face. She looked at Kevin. “I think I understand.” From a cupboard she got the canvas bag that she used for shopping and loaded it with wine bottles. A moment later, she disappeared through the butler’s pantry, heading for the front hall.

Kevin made several trips back and forth from his wine collection to the kitchen table. Soon he had several dozen bottles lined up, including a couple bottles of port.

“What’s going on?” Melanie enquired after sticking her head into the kitchen. “We’re waiting and where’s the wine?”

Kevin handed her one of the bottles. He said he’d be a few minutes more and they should start eating without him. Melanie rolled the bottle over to look at the label.

“Oh, my, Château Latour!” she said. She flashed Kevin an appreciative grin, before ducking back into the dining room.

Esmeralda returned to say that the soldiers were very pleased. “But I thought I’d take them some bread,” she added. “It will stimulate their thirst.”

“Marvelous idea,” Kevin said. He filled the canvas bag with wine and tested its weight. It was heavy, but he thought Esmeralda could handle it.

“Let me know how many soldiers are at the town hall,” Kevin said as he handed her the bag. “We want to make sure there is plenty for everyone.”

“There are usually four at night,” Esmeralda said.

“Then ten bottles should be fine,” Kevin said. “At least for starters.” He smiled, and Esmeralda smiled back.

Taking a deep breath, Kevin pushed through the door into the dining room. He wanted to see what the women thought of his idea.

Kevin rolled over and looked at the clock. It was just before midnight, so he sat up and put his feet over the side of the bed. He turned off the alarm clock that had been set to go off at twelve p.m. sharp. Then he stretched.

During dinner, Kevin’s proposed plan had sparked a lively discussion. In a cooperative effort, the idea had been refined and expanded. Ultimately, all three thought it was worth attempting.

After making what preparations they could, they all decided to try to get a little rest. But Kevin had been unable to sleep despite his exhaustion. He was too keyed up. There was also the problem of the gradually increasing noise from the soldiers. At first, it had just been animated chatter, but during the last half hour, loud, drunken singing had reverberated from below.

Esmeralda had visited both groups of soldiers twice during the evening. When she returned, she reported that the expensive French wine was a big hit. After her second visit, she told Kevin that the initial deliveries of bottles had been almost drained.

Kevin dressed quickly in the dark, then ventured out into the hall. He did not want to turn on any lights. Luckily, the moon was bright enough for him to see his way to the guest rooms. He knocked first on Melanie’s door. He was startled when it was opened instantly.

“I’ve been waiting,” Melanie whispered. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Together, they went to Candace’s room. She, too, was ready.

In the living room they picked up the small canvas bags each had prepared and walked out onto the veranda. The vista was enticingly exotic. It had rained several hours earlier, but now the sky was filled with puffy, silver-blue clouds. A gibbous moon was high in the sky, and its light made the mist-filled town glow eerily. The jungle sounds were shockingly loud in the hot, moist air.

They had discussed this first stage in detail so there was no need for talk now. At the far end of the veranda in the rear corner they secured the end of three sheets that had been tied together. The other end was dropped over the side to the ground.

Melanie had insisted on going first. She climbed nimbly over the balustrade, and lowered herself to the ground with inspiring ease. Candace was next, and her cheerleading experience stood her in good stead. She had no trouble making it down.

Kevin was the one who had difficulty. Trying to imitate Melanie, he pushed off with his feet. But then as he swung back toward the building he got twisted in the sheets so that he collided with the stucco, scraping his knuckles.

“Damn,” he whispered, when he finally was standing on the cobblestones. He shook his hand and squeezed his fingers.

“Are you okay?” Melanie whispered.

“I think so,” Kevin said.

The next stage of their escape was more worrisome. In single file, they inched along the back of the building within the shadow of the arcade. Each step took them closer to the central stairwell, where they could hear the soldiers. A cassette recorder playing African music at low volume had been added to the festivities.

They reached the stall where Kevin kept his Toyota LandCruiser and slipped in along the passenger side until they reached the front. According to previously made plans, Kevin eased around the car to the driver’s-side door and quietly opened it. At that point, he was within fifteen to twenty feet from the inebriated soldiers who were on the opposite side of a reed mat suspended from the ceiling.

Kevin released the emergency brake and put the car in neutral. Returning to the women, he motioned to start pushing.