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Authors: Robin Cook

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

Acceptable Risk (40 page)

BOOK: Acceptable Risk
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“What are you going to do?” Kinnard asked.

“I don’t know,” Kim said. “I was hoping you could either definitively confirm my fears or dispel them. I guess you can’t do either.”

“Not with any degree of certainty,” Kinnard admitted. “But I can say something you can think about. Perceptions are extraordinarily influenced by expectations. That’s why double-blind studies have been instituted in medical research. There is a possibility that your expectation to see negative effects from Edward’s drug is affecting what you see. I know Edward is extraordinarily smart, and it doesn’t make much sense to me that he would take any unreasonable risk.”

“You have a point,” Kim said. “It’s true that at the moment I don’t know what I’m seeing. It could all be in my head, but I don’t think so.”

Kinnard glanced at the wall clock and had to excuse himself to do a case. “I’m sorry to cut this short,” he said, “but I’m here for the next few days if you want to talk more. Otherwise I’ll see you in the SICU in Boston.”

The moment they parted, Kinnard gave her hand a squeeze. She squeezed back and thanked him for listening to her.

Arriving back at the compound, Kim went directly to the castle. She had a few words with the plumbers, who insisted they were making good progress but that they’d need another three days or so to finish. They also suggested they should check the guest wing for the same problem. Kim told them to do whatever was needed.

Before going down to the wine cellar, Kim inspected the two entrances to the wings. She was appalled when she saw the one to the servants’ quarters. Not only was there dirt on the stairs, but there were also some sticks and leaves. Even an empty container for Chinese take-out food was in the corner near the door.

Swearing under her breath, Kim went to the cleaning closet, got out a mop and a bucket, and cleaned the stairway. The dirt had been tracked up to the first landing.

After she’d cleaned everything up, Kim walked to the front door, picked up the outdoor mat, and carried it around to the entrance to the servants’ wing. She thought about putting up a note, but then thought the mat should be message enough.

Finally Kim descended into the depths of the wine cellar and got to work. Although she did not find any documents even close to the seventeenth century, her concentration served to free her mind from her concerns, and she slowly began to relax.

At one o’clock Kim took a break. She went back to the cottage and let Sheba out while she had some lunch. Before she returned to the castle she made sure the cat was back in the house. At the castle she chatted with the plumbers for a few minutes and watched Albert deftly make some seals on water-supply pipes with his blowtorch. Finally she got back to work, this time in the attic.

Kim was again becoming discouraged when she found a whole folder of material from the era she was interested in. With excitement she carried it over to one of the dormered windows.

She was not surprised when the papers turned out to be business-related. A few of them were in Ronald’s easily recognizable script. Then Kim caught her breath. Out of the customs documents and bills of lading she pulled a piece of personal correspondence. It was a letter to Ronald from Thomas Goodman.

17th August 1692 - Salem Town

Sir:

Many are the villainies that have plagued our God fearing town. It has been a matter of great affliction for me whereby I have been unwillingly involved. I am sore of heart that you have thought ill of me and my duty as a convenanted member of our congregation and hath refused to converse with me in matters of joint interest. It is true that I in good faith and in God’s name did testify against your departed wife at her hearing and at her trial. At your request I did visit your home on occasion to offer aid if it be needed. On that fateful day I found your door ajar yet a frigid chill be on the land and the table laden with food and sustenance as if a meal interrupted yet other objects upside down or sharply broken with blood droplets on the floor. I did fear for an Indian raid and the safety of your kin. But the children both natural and the refugee girls I espied cowering in fear upstairs with word that your Good-wife fell into a fit while eating and not be of her normal self and having run to the shelter of your livestock. With trepidation I took myself there and called her name in the darkness. She came at me like a wild woman and affrighted me greatly. Blood was on her hands and her frock and I saw her handiwork. With troubled spirit I did quiet her at risk to my own well being. To a like purpose I did likewise with your livestock which were all affrighted yet all were safe. To these things I spoke the truth in God’s name.

I remain your friend and neighbor,Thomas Goodman.

“These poor people,” Kim murmured. This letter came the closest to anything she’d read so far in communicating to her the personal horror of the Salem witch ordeal, and Kim felt empathy for all involved. She could tell that Thomas was confused and dismayed at being caught between friendship and what he thought was the truth. And Kim’s heart went out to poor Elizabeth, who’d been rendered out of her mind with the mold to the point of terrorizing her own children. It was easy for Kim to understand how the seventeenth-century mind would have ascribed such horrifying and inexplicable behavior to witchcraft.

In the middle of Kim’s empathy she realized that the letter presented something new and disturbing. It was the mention of blood with its implication of violence. Kim didn’t even want to imagine what Elizabeth could have been doing in the shed with the livestock, yet she had to admit it might be significant.

Kim looked back at the letter. She reread the sentence where Thomas described that all the livestock was safe despite the presence of blood. That seemed confusing unless Elizabeth had done something to herself. The thought of self-mutilation made Kim shudder. Its possibility was enhanced by Thomas’s mention of droplets of blood on the floor in the house. But the blood in the house was mentioned in the same sentence with broken objects, suggesting the blood could have come from an inadvertent wound.

Kim sighed. Her mind was a jumble, but one thing was clear. The effect of the fungus was now associated with violence, and Kim thought that was something Edward and the others should know immediately.

Clutching the letter, Kim hastened from the castle and half-ran to the lab. She was out of breath when she entered. She was also immediately surprised: she’d walked into the middle of a celebration.

Everyone greeted Kim with great merriment, pulling her over to one of the lab benches where they had uncorked a bottle of champagne. Kim tried to refuse a beakerful but they wouldn’t hear of it. Once again she felt as if she were with a bunch of frolicsome collegians.

As soon as Kim was able, she worked her way over to Edward’s side to ask him what was going on.

“Eleanor, Gloria, and François have just pulled off an amazing feat of analytic chemistry,” Edward explained. “They’ve already determined the structure of one of Ultra’s binding proteins. It’s a huge leap forward. It will allow us to modify Ultra if need be or to design other possible drugs that will bind at the same site.”

“I’m happy for you,” Kim said. “But I want to show you something that I think you ought to see.” She handed him the letter.

Edward quickly scanned the letter. When he looked up at Kim he winked at her. “Congratulations,” he said. “This is the best one yet.” Then, turning to the group he called out: "Listen up, you guys. Kim has found the greatest bit of proof that Elizabeth had been poisoned with the fungus. It will be even better than the diary entry for the article for Science.

The researchers eagerly gathered around. Edward gave them the letter and encouraged them all to read it.

“It’s perfect,” Eleanor said, passing it on to David. “It even mentions she’d been eating. It’s certainly a graphic description how fast the alkaloid works. She’d probably just taken a bite of bread.”

“It’s a good thing you eliminated that hallucinogenic side-chain,” David said. “I wouldn’t want to wake up and find myself out with the cows.”

Everyone laughed except Kim. She looked at Edward and, after waiting for him to stop laughing, asked him if the suggestion of violence in the letter bothered him.

Edward took the letter back and read it more carefully. “You know, you have a good point,” he told Kim when he was finished the second time. “I don’t think I should use this letter for the article after all. It might cause some trouble we don’t need. A few years ago there was an unfortunate rumor fanned by TV talk shows that associated Prozac with violence. It was a problem until it was debunked statistically. I don’t want anything like that to happen to Ultra.”

“If the unaltered alkaloid caused violence, it had to have been the same side chain that caused the hallucinations,” Gloria said. “You could mention that in the article.”

“Why take the chance?” Edward said. “I don’t want to give some rabid journalist even a tidbit that might raise the specter of violence.”

“Perhaps the concern for violence should be included in the clinical protocols,” Kim suggested. “Then if the question ever were to arise, you’d already have data.”

“You know, that’s a damn good idea,” Gloria said.

For several minutes the group favorably discussed Kim’s suggestion. Encouraged that people were listening to her, she suggested they should include short-term-memory lapses as well. To make her case she cited Edward’s recent episodes.

Edward laughed good-naturedly along with everyone else. “So what if I brush my teeth twice?” he said, bringing on more laughter.

“I think including short-term-memory loss in the clinical protocols is an equally good idea as including violence,” Curt said. “David’s been similarly forgetful. I’ve noticed, since we’re immediate neighbors in the castle.”

“You should talk,” David said with a chuckle. He then told the group that just the night before, Curt had called his girlfriend twice because he’d forgotten he’d called her the first time.

“I bet that went over well with her,” Gloria said.

Curt gave David a playful punch in the shoulder. “The only reason you noticed was because you’d done the exact same thing the night before with your wife.”

As Kim watched Curt and David playfully spar, she noticed Curt’s hands and fingers were marred by cuts and scratches. Her reflex response as a nurse was one of concern. She offered to look at them.

“Thank you, but they aren’t as bad as they look,” Curt said. “They don’t bother me in the slightest.”

“Did you fall off your motorcycle?”

Curt laughed. “I hope not,” he said. “I don’t remember how I did it.”

“It’s an occupational hazard,” David said, showing his hands, which appeared similar although not as bad. “It just proves we’re all working our fingers to the bone.”

“It’s the pressure of working nineteen hours a day,” François said. “It’s amazing we have been functioning as well as we have.”

“It seems to me that short-term-memory loss must be a side effect of Ultra,” Kim said. “It sounds like you all are experiencing it.”

“I haven’t,” Gloria said.

“Neither have I,” Eleanor said. “My mind and memory are demonstrably better since I’ve been on Ultra.”

“Same with me,” Gloria said. “I think François is right. We’re just working too hard.”

“Wait a second, Gloria,” Eleanor said. “You have been forgetful. What about the morning before last when you left your bathrobe in the bathroom and then two minutes later had a fit when it wasn’t hanging behind your door in the bedroom?”

“I didn’t throw a fit,” Gloria contradicted good-naturedly. “Besides, that’s different. I’ve been misplacing my robe way before I’ve been on Ultra.”

“Regardless,” Edward said. “Kim is right. Short-term-memory lapse could be related to Ultra, and as such it should be included in the clinical protocols. But it’s not something we need to lose any sleep over. Even if it proves to occur on occasion, it will surely be an acceptable risk in light of the drug’s enhancement of mental function in general.”

“I agree,” Gloria said. “It’s the equivalent of Einstein forgetting little everyday matters while he was formulating the Theory of Relativity. The mind makes value judgments of what to keep in the processor, and how many times you brush your teeth isn’t that important.”

The sound of the outer door closing got everyone’s attention since the lab got few visitors. All eyes turned to the door to the reception area. It opened and in walked Stanton.

A spontaneous triple cheer arose from the researchers. A confused Stanton stopped in his tracks. “What on earth is going on here?” he questioned. “Nobody working today?”

Eleanor rushed him a beaker of champagne.

“A little toast,” Edward said, lifting his drink. “We’d like to drink to your heckling nature that motivated us to start taking Ultra. We’re reaping the benefits on a daily basis.”

Amid giggles everyone took a drink including Stanton.

“It really has been a boon,” Edward said. “We’ve been drawing blood on each other and saving urine to test.”

“All of us except François,” Gloria said, teasing the Frenchman. “He forgets more than half the time.”

“We did have a slight problem with compliance in that regard,” Edward admitted. “But we solved it by taping the toilet seats down and putting up a sign saying hold it.”

They all laughed again. Gloria and David had to put their drinks down for fear of spilling them.

“You certainly are a happy group,” Stanton commented.

“We have reason to be,” Edward said. He then told Stanton the good news about discovering the structure of the binding protein. He gave partial credit to Ultra for sharpening everyone’s mental acuity.

“This is marvelous news indeed!” Stanton exclaimed. He made it a point to walk around and shake Gloria’s, Eleanor’s, and François’s hands individually. Then he told Edward he wanted to talk with him.

Using Stanton’s arrival as an opportunity to excuse herself, Kim left. She felt good about her visit to the lab; she had the feeling she’d accomplished something by suggesting violence and short-term-memory loss should be included in the clinical evaluation of Ultra.

BOOK: Acceptable Risk
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