Acceptable Risk (29 page)

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Authors: Robin Cook

Tags: #Mystery, #Horror, #Crime, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Contemporary

BOOK: Acceptable Risk
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Kim stopped at the Bread and Circus grocery store and bought food for dinner. She picked something she was confident Edward would particularly like. She even got a bottle of wine as a treat.

When Kim got to Edward’s apartment she picked up magazines and newspapers and generally straightened up. She fed the dog. Then she made the dinner and had it ready for seven, which was when Edward had told her he’d be home.

Seven came and went. Kim turned off the heat from the rice. At seven-thirty she covered the salad with plastic wrap and put it into the refrigerator. Finally at eight Edward walked in.

“Damn it all to hell!” he said as he kicked the door closed. “I take back all the nice things I’ve ever said about your contractor. The guy is an ass. I could have hit him this afternoon. He promised me there’d be electricians there today and there weren’t.”

Kim told him what they were having for dinner. He grunted and went into the bathroom to wash his hands. Kim heated up the rice in the microwave.

“The goddamn lab could be functional in no time if these lunkheads would get their act together,” Edward yelled from inside the bathroom.

Kim poured two glasses of wine. She carried them into the bedroom and handed one to Edward as he emerged from the bathroom. He took it and sipped it.

“All I want to do is to get started on a controlled investigation of Ultra,” he said. “It seems that everybody wants to thwart me by putting obstacles in my way.”

“This might not be the best time to bring this up,” Kim said hesitantly, “but there’s never a good time. We still don’t have any formal moving plans, and the first of the month is almost here. I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a couple of weeks.”

Edward exploded. In a moment of uncontrolled fury he hurled his full wineglass into the fireplace, where it shattered, and yelled: “The last thing I need is pressure from you!”

Edward hovered over Kim. His eyes had dilated and his veins stood out on his temples. His jaw muscles were quivering and he was clasping and unclasping his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Kim blurted. For a moment she didn’t move. She was terrified. She’d not seen this side of Edward. As big as he was, she knew his strength and guessed what he could do to her if he were inclined.

As soon as she could, Kim ran from the room. She went into the kitchen and busied herself. As soon as the immediate shock lessened, she decided to leave. Turning from the stove, she started toward the living room and the front door, but she immediately stopped. Edward was in the doorway. To Kim’s relief, his face was totally transformed; instead of rage it reflected confusion, even sadness.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His stutter made getting the words out an ordeal. “I don’t know what came over me. I guess it’s been the pressure, although that’s not an adequate excuse. I’m embarrassed. Forgive me.”

Kim was immediately taken by his sincerity. She stepped over to him and they hugged. Then they went into the living room and sat on the couch.

“I’m finding this period terribly frustrating,” he said. “Harvard is driving me crazy, and I desperately want to get back to work on Ultra. Eleanor has been continuing work on the drug as best she can and is getting continually good results. It’s aggravating not to be able to help her, but the last thing I want to do is take my frustrations out on you.”

“I’ve been on edge as well,” Kim admitted. “Moving has always made me nervous. On top of that I’m afraid this Elizabeth thing has become something of an obsession.”

“I certainly haven’t been giving you any support,” Edward said. “I’m sorry about that too. Let’s make a pact to be more sensitive to each other.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Kim said.

“I should have said something about moving myself,” Edward said. “It’s not solely your responsibility. When do you want to move?”

“We have to be out of our apartments by the first of September,” Kim said.

“So how about the thirty-first?” Edward said.

Wednesday, August 31, 1994

Moving day was hectic from the first hours of daylight when Kim got up. The van arrived at Kim’s apartment at seven-thirty and loaded her things first. Then it went to Cambridge to get Edward’s belongings. By the time the last chair was put in, the truck was full.

Kim and Edward drove to the compound in their own cars, with their own pets. When they arrived, Sheba and Buffer met for the first time. Since they were approximately the same size, the confrontation ended in a standoff. From then on they ignored each other.

As the movers began bringing things into the cottage, Edward surprised Kim by suggesting they take separate bedrooms.

“Why?” Kim questioned.

“Because I’m not acting like myself,” Edward explained. “I haven’t been sleeping well with everything that has been going on. If we have separate bedrooms I can turn on the light and read if I need to calm myself down.”

“That wouldn’t bother me,” Kim insisted.

“You’ve been sleeping at your apartment the last few nights,” Edward said. “Haven’t you been sleeping better?”

“No,” Kim said.

“Well, then, we’re just a little different,” Edward said. “I’ve been sleeping better. Knowing I’m not bothering you makes me more relaxed. Anyway, it will be a temporary arrangement. As soon as the lab opens and things settle down, the pressure will be off. Then we’ll move in together. You can understand, can’t you?”

“I suppose,” Kim said, trying to hide her disappointment.

The unloading of the moving van went considerably faster than its loading, and soon the cottage was filled to overflowing with boxes and haphazardly placed furniture. When the truck was empty, the movers picked up their gear and the boxes that had been unpacked and stowed them in the truck. Kim then signed the moving documents and watched the movers drive away.

No sooner had the truck disappeared from view than Kim saw a Mercedes emerge from the trees and speed toward her. She recognized the car. It was Stanton’s. She called up to Edward to tell him that he had company before going to the door and opening it.

“Where’s Edward?” Stanton demanded without so much as a greeting.

“He’s upstairs,” Kim said, pointing over her shoulder.

Stanton pushed past her and yelled for Edward to come down. He stood in the foyer with his hands on his hips, tapping his right foot. He was clearly agitated.

Kim’s pulse quickened. Knowing Edward’s fragile mental state, she was worried that Stanton would set him off. Stanton always operated as if he had no regard for other people’s feelings.

“Come down here, Edward,” Stanton yelled again. “We’ve got to talk.”

Edward appeared at the turn of the stairs. He was descending slowly. “What’s the problem?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing much,” Stanton said sarcastically. “It’s just that your burn-rate on our capital is out of control. This lab of yours is costing an ungodly amount of money. What are you doing, paving the johns with diamonds?”

“What exactly are you referring to?” Edward asked warily.

“The whole thing,” Stanton said. “I’m beginning to think you used to work for the Pentagon, since everything you order is the most expensive available.”

“To do first-class experiments you need a first-class facility,” Edward said. “I made that clear when we talked about forming Omni. I hope you don’t think you can buy such labs at garage sales.”

Kim watched the two men bicker. The longer they argued the less concern she had. Edward was angry but not out of control.

“All right,” Stanton said. “Let’s leave the cost of the lab alone for a moment. Instead I want you to give me a timetable for FDA approval of Ultra. I must know so I can estimate when we might see money coming in instead of going out.”

Edward threw up his hands in exasperation. “We haven’t even opened the doors to the lab and you’re talking about a deadline. We discussed the FDA issue at the restaurant before we agreed to form the company. Have you forgotten?”

“Listen, smartass,” Stanton shot back. “The burden to keep this operation afloat falls on my shoulders. Unfortunately it ain’t going to be an easy task with the rate you are going through our capital.”

Stanton turned to Kim, who was standing against the parlor wall. “Kim,” he said, “tell this thickheaded dork that fiscal responsibility is a prime requirement of startup companies.”

“Leave her out of it!” Edward snarled.

Stanton apparently sensed that he’d pushed Edward too far because he quickly assumed a more conciliatory tone.

“Let’s all be calm,” Stanton said, lifting his hands in supplication. “You have to recognize the reasonableness of my request. I have to have some vague outline of what you are going to do in this gold-plated lab so that I can try to anticipate and provide for our financial needs.”

Edward exhaled noisily and visibly relaxed a degree. “Asking about what we will be doing in the lab is a far different question than bursting in here and demanding a date for FDA approval,” he said.

“I’m sorry I’m not more diplomatic,” Stanton said. “Give me an idea of your plan of attack.”

“As soon as possible we’ll be launching a crash course to learn everything there is to know about Ultra,” Edward said. “First we must complete our knowledge of its basic chemistry, such as its solubility in various solvents, and its reactivity with other compounds. Then we have to commence controlled biological studies to understand metabolism, excretion, and toxicity. The toxicological studies will have to be done in vitro as well as in vivo on individual cells, groups of cells, and intact organisms. We’ll have to start with viruses, then bacteria, and finally higher animals. We’ll have to formulate assays. On a molecular level we’ll have to determine binding sites and methods of action. We’ll have to test under all sorts of conditions of temperature and pH. We’ll have to do all this before we file an investigational new drug application with the FDA, which is what you have to do before you can even start the clinical phase.”

“Good Lord.” Stanton moaned. “You’re making me dizzy. This sounds like decades of work.”

“It’s not decades,” Edward said. “But it is years. I told you that already. At the same time I told you that it would be significantly shorter than the twelve-year average development time for a drug.”

“How about six years?” Stanton questioned.

“I can’t say until we begin work and start getting some data,” Edward said. “All I can say is that it will be more than three years and less than twelve.”

“There’s a chance it could be three years?” Stanton asked hopefully.

“It would be a miracle,” Edward admitted. “But it is possible. But there is another factor you have to consider. The rapid spending of capital has been for the lab, and now that the lab is almost done, spending will drop considerably.”

“I wish I could count on that,” Stanton said. “But I can’t. Soon we will be paying the enormous salaries you promised your Ultra team.”

“Hey, I had to give big salaries to get the best people,” Edward said. “Also, I preferred giving higher salaries rather than more stock. I didn’t want to give away too much equity.”

“The equity isn’t going to be worth anything if we go bankrupt.”

“But we’re ahead of the game,” Edward said. “Most biotech and pharmaceutical companies are formed with no drug on the horizon. We’ve already got the drug.”

“I’m aware of that,” Stanton said. “But I have the jitters. I’ve never invested all my money in one company and then watched it being spent so quickly.”

“You’ve invested it wisely,” Edward said. “We’re both going to be billionaires. Ultra is that good, I’m sure of it. Come on. Let me show you the lab. It will reassure you.”

Kim breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the two men walk toward the lab. Stanton even had his hand draped on Edward’s shoulder.

Once they were gone, Kim surveyed the room. To her surprise her thoughts were not on the ungodly mess the moving had created. Instead the sudden silence brought an intense sense of Elizabeth’s presence and a strong recurrence of her feeling that Elizabeth was trying to communicate with her. But try as she might, Kim could hear no words. Nevertheless, at that moment, Kim was acutely aware that some of Elizabeth existed in the core of her being. And what was now Kim’s home was still in some way Elizabeth’s.

Kim was not entirely comfortable with these thoughts. Somehow she detected an element of distress and urgency in Elizabeth’s message.

Turning her back on what should have been more pressing tasks, Kim hastily unwrapped the newly restored portrait of Elizabeth and hung it over the fireplace. With the repainting of the walls, the portrait’s silhouette had vanished. Kim had to guess how high it had hung. She was following an urge to replace the painting in the exact position it had occupied three hundred years previously.

Kim stepped away and turned to face the mantel. When she did, she was shocked by how lifelike the painting appeared. In better light Kim had thought it was rather primitive. Hanging in the afternoon twilight of the cottage gave a completely different effect. Elizabeth’s green eyes were hauntingly penetrating as they shone through the shadows.

For a few mesmerizing minutes Kim stood rooted in the center of the room, staring at a picture that in some respects was like looking into a mirror. Gazing into Elizabeth’s eyes, Kim felt even stronger the sense that her ancestor was trying to communicate with her across the centuries. Kim again strained to hear the words, but there was only silence.

The mystical feeling radiating from the painting sent Kim back to the castle. Despite the many boxes to unpack, and despite having spent so many frustratingly fruitless hours searching through the castle’s papers, Kim had a sudden irresistible urge to return. Elizabeth’s portrait had renewed her motivation to learn what she could about her mysterious ancestor.

As if driven by a preternatural force, Kim mounted the stairs and headed for the attic. Once inside, she didn’t hesitate nor did she take the time to open the windows. Instead she marched directly to what looked like an old sea trunk. Opening the lid, she found the usual mix of papers, envelopes, and a few ledgers.

The first book was an inventory of ships’ stores. The date was 1862. Directly beneath it was a larger, primitively bound notebook with a letter tied to it. Kim gulped. She could see that the letter was addressed to Ronald Stewart.

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