Robin Cook - Vector

The Brooklyn Battery Tunnel left Yuri in lower Manhattan. Making sure his “off duty” sign was illuminated, he drove north on West Street to Chambers before turning right and working his way over to Duane Street.

Yuri slowed as he neared the firehouse. He didn’t know whether to park or not. Seeing a foursome of firemen playing cards at a table on the sidewalk directly in front of the entrance made him opt to stay in the car. The firehouse’s huge overhead doors had been thrown open to the glorious mid-fall day. Just the shiny red fronts of the ladder truck and fire engine could be seen.

Yuri pulled his cab up onto the ramp, then angled it off, putting him parallel to the building. The men at the table looked up from their game.

Yuri lowered his passenger-side window and leaned over.

“Excuse me!” he called. “I’m looking for Lieutenant Rogers.”

“Hey, Lieutenant!” one of the men yelled over his shoulder. “You got a visitor.”

Curt emerged a few minutes later with a hand over his eyes and squinting from the glare. Because of the bright sunshine, the inside of the building was dark by comparison. His expression was one of curiosity until he caught sight of Yuri. Then his countenance clouded with barely contained rage.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he snarled in a forced whisper.

“We’ve got an emergency,” Yuri snapped back. He reached out with one of Jack Stapleton’s business cards.

Curt took the card while casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at his card-playing colleagues.

“What’s this?” he demanded.

“Read it!” Yuri ordered. “It’s what the emergency is about.”

Curt looked at the card before raising his eyes back to Yuri’s. Some of his irritation had metamorphosed to confusion.

“Operation Wolverine is in jeopardy,” Yuri said. “We have to talk right now!”

Curt ran a worried hand through his short, blond hair. He looked around again at the card players. They were concentrating on their game.

“All right,” Curt growled. “This better be important! There’s a bar around the corner called Pete’s. Steve and I will be there as soon as we can.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Yuri said before accelerating down the street. He fumed about Curt’s anger. In his rearview mirror he caught the firefighter studying the card briefly before turning back into the firehouse.

The bar was dark and smoky and smelled of old beer and rancid grease. There was a limited menu featuring hamburgers, fries, and soup of the day. Country music whined in the background at low volume. Every now and again, Yuri could make out a Lyric about jilted love and lost opportunity. A number of men were having lunch and a brew. Yuri had to walk the entire length of the narrow tavern before finding an empty booth in the back next to the lavatory. He ordered a vodka and a hamburger and sat back. He didn’t have long to wait. Curt and Steve arrived at the same time as the food.

The two firefighters slipped into the booth across from Yuri without bothering to greet him. Their vexation was palpable. They were silent while the waiter served the hamburger and placed a napkin next to it. The waiter looked at them inquiringly and they ordered a couple of drafts. When he’d left, Curt brazenly flicked Jack Stapleton’s business card onto the table so that it skidded over to Yuri’s side.

“Start talking!” Curt ordered. “And it better be good.”

Yuri took a bite from his burger and chewed. He eyed his friends. He was being deliberately provocative by making them wait, but he didn’t care. In fact, it gave him a bit of enjoyment.

“We don’t have all day, for crissake,” Curt snapped.

Yuri swallowed and chased his mouthful with a swig of vodka. Then, after running his tongue around the inside of his lips, he picked up the business card and tossed it back in the firefighter’s direction.

“This Dr. Jack Stapleton is the medical examiner I told you about who I ran into at the Corinthian Rug Company Office.”

“Big deal,” Curt scoffed. “That was two days ago.”

“Yesterday he showed up at the Strickland funeral home,” Yuri said. “He was with Connie’s brother.”

“You didn’t tell us that.”

“I didn’t think it was so important,” Yuri said. “At least yesterday I didn’t.”

“But today you do?”

“Without doubt,” Yuri said. He took another bite of his hamburger while Curt and Steve got their beers. Yuri paused until the waiter left. “Today Dr. Jack Stapleton showed up at my house.”

“Why?” Curt demanded. His anger and arrogance had disappeared. Now he was concerned.

“He wanted to warn me that I was at risk for what Connie died of,” Yuri said. “Apparently he’s made the diagnosis she died of botulinum toxin.”

“Oh, Christ!” Curt growled.

“How the hell did he do that?” Steve demanded. “You told us it wouldn’t happen.”

“I don’t know what made him test for it,” Yuri said. “But I do know he took samples from Connie’s body.”

“What did you say to him?” Curt asked.

“First of all, he didn’t know he was talking to me,” Yuri said. “When we ran into each other in the alley, I had the beard. I don’t know if Stapleton would have recognized me without it, since I’d only spoken to him for a few minutes on Monday. But it was good I had it on just the same. Anyway, I told him my name was Yegor, and he believed it. I offered to convey a message to Yuri Davydov, but Stapleton wouldn’t tell me what the message was, other than mentioning that Yuri Davydov might be in danger.”

“But you believe he suspects botulism?” Curt asked.

“I do,” Yuri replied.

“Do you think he’ll be back?” Curt asked.

“Maybe not until tonight. I told him that Yuri Davydov was out driving his cab and wouldn’t be home until sometime after nine or ten.”

Curt looked at Steve. “I don’t like this.”

“Me neither,” Steve said.

“I don’t like it either,” Yuri said. “He walked around my house. He undoubtedly saw the vent to the lab and heard the circulating fan. He might have even seen the pest control truck.”

“Good God!” Curt mumbled.

“I think he’s got to go, just like Connie,” Yuri said. -“The People’s Aryan Army has to get rid of him fast, like this afternoon.”

Curt nodded, then turned to Steve. “What do you think?”

“I think Yuri’s right,” Steve said. “If we don’t act, this guy’s going to single-handedly screw up Operation Wolverine.”

“The trouble is, how do we get rid of him?” Curt said.

“The card has his work address,” Yuri said. “He told Yegor that he’d be there until six. On the back of the card is his home telephone number. And I think he rode all the way out to Brighton Beach on a bike. Seems to me that should be enough information for the PAA.”

“You’re suggesting he rides his bike around the city?” Curt asked.

“That would be my guess,” Yuri said.

“We could follow him when he comes out of work,” Steve said. “Then hit him when he’s vulnerable.”

Curt nodded while he pondered. “How will we recognize him?”

Steve pointed to Yuri. “He’ll have to come along to ID him.”

“Can you be back here at five?” Curt asked.

“Where exactly?” Yuri demanded. “I know you don’t want me at the firehouse.”

“Right here in this bar,” Curt said.

“I’ll be here,” Yuri said.

“All right, it’s decided,” Curt said. “The PAA will sanction Dr. Jack Stapleton I’ll make that an order.” He looked at Steve. “That means you’ll have to get back to Bensonhurst right away to gather some of the troops. And for this kind of mission I think we should steal a van.”