Robin Cook - Vector

Without warning Paul stood up. His chair tipped over backward and crashed to the floor. Other diners looked up from their quiet meals. Several waiters rushed over to right the chair.

“I’ve had just about as much of this as I can take,” Paul snarled. Angrily he reached into his pocket and yanked out his billfold. He took several hundred-dollar bills and tossed them contemptuously onto the table.

“This should cover the entertainment,” he said. Then he walked out of the restaurant.

Laurie was mortified. She’d heard about such scenes occurring in public but certainly had never been involved in one herself. Timidly she picked up her cappuccino and took a few sips. Intellectually she knew it was silly for her to pretend that she wasn’t bothered by what had transpired, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt bound to maintain a charade of calm decorum. She even waited until she finished her coffee to request the check.

When she emerged from the restaurant fifteen minutes later, she was mildly concerned that Paul might be waiting for her. She was relieved when he wasn’t because she didn’t want to talk to him, at least not for a while. She stood at the curb to get her bearings. The restaurant was on Columbus Avenue on the Upper West Side. She was about to raise her hand to flag down a taxi to take her downtown when she realized she was only twenty or so blocks from Jack’s. She decided to pay him a visit. More than anything else, she needed a friend.

When she got into a cab and gave Jack’s address, the driver, who was a born and bred New Yorker, turned around and asked her to repeat it. After she had, he raised his eyebrows as if to say she was crazy, and they were off.

With little traffic, the ride went quickly. The driver turned left off Columbus as soon as he could and headed north on Central Park West. Laurie had to point out Jack’s building because there was no number.

“You gonna be all right, miss?” the driver inquired after she’d paid. “This is a rough neighborhood.”

Laurie assured the man she’d be fine and got out of the cab. Reaching the sidewalk she looked up at the facade of Jack’s building. It looked as sad as always with only a small piece of its decorative cornice still intact and two windows on the third floor boarded up.

Every time Laurie visited she couldn’t help but marvel anew that Jack was still living there. She understood about the basketball, but she thought he could find a better maintained building even if he wanted to stay in the neighborhood.

The foyer was in worse shape than the facade. At one time it had been rather grand, with a mosaic floor and marble walls. Now it was only a shadow of its former self. The floor was missing more than half of its tesserae and the walls were stained and graffiti-filled. None of the mailboxes had functioning locks. Trash littered the corners.

Laurie didn’t bother with the buzzer system. She knew it didn’t work. Besides, the inner door had been broken into in the distant past and never repaired.

As Laurie climbed the stairs, her resolve waned. After all, it was late, and she’d not called and was coming uninvited. She also wasn’t even sure how much she wanted to talk about her evening before she’d had time to mull it over herself.

On the second-floor landing she stopped. From behind the door of the front apartment she heard yelling and screaming. She remembered that Jack had said there was an interminable argument going on in there. It made her sad to think people had such trouble getting along with each other.

Laurie debated whether she should proceed. It wasn’t until she thought about how she’d feel if the tables were turned — how she’d feel if Jack showed up suddenly at her apartment when he was needing a friend. Realizing she’d be flattered, she pushed on. When she got to his door, she knocked. There was no bell.

When the door was yanked open, Laurie had to suppress a smile. The look of surprise on Jack’s stubbled face reminded her of the kind of exaggerated expression a pantomimist might employ. Jack was in his boxer shorts, a V-necked T-shirt, and backless slippers. A medical book was in his hand. He obviously hadn’t expected company except, perhaps, for Warren or one of his other local basketball cronies.

“Laurie!” Jack said as if she were an apparition.

Laurie merely nodded.

For an extended moment they just looked at each other.

“Can I come in?” Laurie finally asked.

“Of course,” Jack said, embarrassed that he’d-not invited her in sooner. He stepped to the side. As he closed the door, he remembered his state of undress. Quickly he disappeared into the bedroom to find some shorts.

Laurie walked into the center of the room. There wasn’t much furniture: a couch, a chair, a bookcase made out of cinderblocks and bare lumber, and a couple of small tables. There were no paintings or pictures on the walls. The only light came from a floor lamp next to the couch, where Jack had obviously been reading. The rest of the room was lost in shadow. An open bottle of beer was on a small side table. A medical dictionary was open on the floor.

Jack reappeared moments later tucking a shirt into khaki shorts. He looked apologetic.

“I hope I’m not bothering you,” Laurie said. “I know it’s late.”

“You’re not bothering me in the slightest,” Jack said. “In fact, it’s a nice surprise. Can I take your coat?”

“I suppose,” Laurie said. She slipped out of it and handed it to him. He made a beeline for his closet.

“How about a beer?” Jack said as he searched for a hanger.

“No, thanks,” Laurie said. She sat down in the frayed and tattered armchair. Her eyes roamed the room. She knew something about what motivated Jack’s domestic asceticism, and it depressed her further. It had been eight years since Jack’s family had been killed in the commuter plane crash, and Laurie wished he felt freer to enjoy his life.

“How about something else?” Jack asked as he came into the cone of light from the floor lamp. “Water, tea, or juice? I even have Gatorade.”

“I’m fine, actually,” Laurie said. “I just had a big dinner.”

“Oh,” Jack said simply. He sat down on the couch.

“I really do hope you don’t mind me dropping in on you like this,” Laurie said. “I was at a restaurant not too far away on Columbus Avenue near the Museum of Natural History.”

“I’m pleased,” Jack said. “I’m glad to see you.”

“So I just thought I’d stop by,” Laurie said. “Since I was so close.”

“It’s okay,” Jack said. “Really. I don’t mind at all. Honest.”

“Thanks,” Laurie said.

“Did something happen at dinner?” Jack questioned.

“Yes,” Laurie said. “A bit of unpleasantness.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “Was it because of what Lou and I told you this afternoon?”

“That had something to do with it,” Laurie said.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Laurie said. “I suppose that sounds illogical, since I’ve come here to see you instead of going home to my apartment to be by myself.”

“Hey, nobody’s going to force you to talk about something you don’t want to talk about.”

Laurie nodded.

Jack couldn’t tell if she was really okay or if she was on the verge of tears.

“Let’s talk about you,” Laurie said, breaking the silence.

“Me?” Jack questioned uneasily.

“I heard that Warren Wilson came by the office today,” Laurie said. “What was that all about?”

Laurie was well acquainted with Warren and knew that he’d never visited the morgue. She and Jack had double-dated with Warren and his girlfriend, Natalie Adams, back when she and Jack had been seeing a lot of each other. They’d even gone on a wild trip to Equatorial Africa together.