F Paul Wilson - Novel 02 (21 page)

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Concentrate
on the testimony, Gin, she told herself. That's your job here. Not Senator
Vincent's hangover or whatever's bothering him.

 
          
She
focused on Fox's words and was in the middle of another notation when . . .

 
          
"Just
a minute, please. P-Please, excuse me." Gin jumped at the sudden
interruption. Senator Vincent, kissing his mike and popping his P's, had broken
in at peak volume.

 
          
"Yes,
Senator?" Senator Marsden said softly. "Shall we allow the doctor to
finish his statement before questioning him?"

           
"No!" Vincent shouted,
slamming his fist on the table. His eyes were wild as he glared along the table
at Senator Marsden. "We shall do no such damn thing. Not when this son of
a bitch starts slandering my wife!" Gin was rocked by that. Fox had been
talking about overutilization of services. She saw heads snap up all around the
hearing room. Both C-SPAN cameras had swiveled toward Vincent, and the still
photographers were screwing their lenses back and forth as they focused on him,
the previously somnolent reporters had come alive and were now scribbling on
their pads or jabbing away at their laptops.

 
          
And
on the dais she watched the other members exchange puzzled glances.

 
          
Marsden
looked the most concerned of all.

 
          
He
cleared his throat. "Senator Vincent, I don't believe Dr. Fox mentioned
anyone's wife. He was discussing,"

           
"Don't you tell me what he said
or didn't say, you greenhorn!" Vincent shouted. "I was taking
testimony when you were pissing your pants. And don't you side with him against
me, either!"

           
"Senator," Dr. Fox said
from the floor.

 
          
His
expression was wounded and confused. "I assure you I never said or even
implied anything," Vincent leapt to his fee. He was off mike now, but his
harsh voice cut through the hearing room as he pointed a trembling finger at
Fox.

 
          
"Don't
lie to me, you little shit! Of course you did!" He swayed as he swept the
room with his hand. "They all heard you. Every word of it." He stared
at the wide-eyed, gawking visitors. "Didn't you? Didn't you?" Silence
. . . except for the clicks of camera lenses and the whir of advancing film.

 
          
Vincent
began to nod his head. "Oh, so that's it. You're all in on it. Well that's
just fine. I'll just," Suddenly he whirled on Senator Marsden. "What
did you say? " Gin saw Senator Marsden cringe back.

 
          
She
didn't blame him. The naked fury in Vincent's eyes was frightening.

 
          
"I,
I didn't say anything, Harold. Maybe we should call a recess until,"

           
"No! No recess!" Saliva
flecked his lips and began to spray as he shouted. "We're going to settle
this right here. Here and now! We're," Suddenly he stiffened. His arms
went rigid, his head snapped back as his spine bowed. Gin saw his eyes roll up
and knew he was going to convulse. She was out of her chair and halfway to him
when he dropped to the floor and began a tonic-clonic seizure.

 
          
Gin
crouched beside him, cradling his jerking head. His eyes were open but he was
seeing nothing. She listened to the air hissing in and out between his clenched
teeth. Good. As long as that kept up, she knew he hadn't swallowed his tongue.

 
          
"Somebody
call the emergency squad!" she cried.

 
          
She
loosened his tie, folded it, and worked it between his grinding teeth. The
senator was going to need a dose of diazepam soon. She looked up and saw Samuel
Fox in the encircling huddle of anxious faces and camera lenses, those damn
clicking, whirring cameras.

 
          
"Dr.
Fox. How about a little help?" Fox didn't budge. He shook his head.
"I can't! I . . . I've never practiced."

           
"Great," Gin muttered.

 
          
Suddenly
Senator Marsden was at her side.

 
          
"The
E.M.Ts are on their way. What do you want me to do?" Gin gave him a quick,
grateful smile. "Just grab his arms and steady them. Don't try to pin them
down, just blunt the wild movements, keep him from flailing around too much and
breaking a bone."

           
"Will do." It took
another minute or so, it seemed much longer, before the seizure abated and
Senator Vincent's limbs relaxed. His body slumped, his eyes closed. He began to
snore.

 
          
"Does
he have a history of seizures?" Gin asked Senator Marsden as they released
their hold.

 
          
"Not
that I know of. But then again, that's not something you broadcast in public
life." Right. Voters were probably funny about voting for an epileptic.
But what about the bizarre paranoid behavior just before the seizure?

 
          
The
E.M.Ts arrived then. As they started an IV drip and loaded Senator Vincent on
the stretcher, Gin told them he'd suffered a grand mal seizure and suggested
they call ahead and have a neurologist waiting.

 
          
"Have
ten milligrams of diazepam ready to go IV push if he starts again," she
told them as they were leaving.

 
          
She
turned to Senator Marsden. "Thanks for your help." He nodded
absently, then surveyed the milling, murmuring crowd around the dais.

 
          
"Nothing
like starting off with a bang," he said with a sigh.

 
          
"Are
you going to call a recess?"

           
He nodded. "An indefinite
one."

           
"What do you mean?"

           
His expression was bleak." I
opened the hearings this morning two members short. Now I'm three short. I've
got half a committee now. Even if Senator Vincent recovers soon, I don't see
him appearing before the cameras again for quite some time. Do you?"

           
"No. Can't say as I do."

 
          
"So
I'm going to have to wait until at least one of those empty seats is
filled."

 
          
"How
long will that take? " Gin said, her heart sinking. She'd just started
this job last week, now it was evaporating before her eyes.

 
          
"Could
be a while." Gin's expression must have revealed her dismay.

 
          
He
smiled and put a hand on her shoulder.

 
          
"Don't
worry. I want you around doing background during the hiatus. I like the way you
handle yourself. And who knows? We may not have a long wait if I can get the
president involved. He wants this bill before the end of the year. Maybe he can
twist a few arms." He returned to his seat on the dais, banged his gavel
twice, and announced that hearings were suspended until further notice.

 
          
Gin
suddenly thought of
Duncan
. She searched the crowd for him but he was gone.

 
          
Twice
now,
Duncan
had been present when some catastrophe had
befallen one of his legislator patients.

 
          
What
had he said to Senator Vincent down on the. floor . . . minutes before the
senator went crazy?

 
          
Gin
had a strange feeling that he'd told him to remember someone named Lisa.

 
          
Later,
Gin returned to the
Hart
Building
via the underground shuttle and was
surprised to find Gerry waiting for her in the atrium.

 
          
"Am
I glad to see you." She needed someone to talk to, needed to ventilate the
morning's events. She gave him a hug and felt the tension in his muscles. Gerry
didn't seem to be in a listening mood.

 
          
"We
need to talk," he said. His expression was serious, almost grim.

 
          
"Is
something wrong?"

           
"Something might be. Can I
tell you about it over lunch?"

           
"Nothing about Martha, is
it?"

           
He stared at her, then put his arm
around her shoulder. "No. Nothing at all to do with Martha."

           
They walked down to Mass. Gerry
tried to make small talk but didn't do a very good job.

 
          
Summer
wasn't letting go just yet. The sun was high and the air warm. Gerry pointed to
an array of red-and-white Tecate umbrellas on a patio in front of a converted
brownstone about a block and a half down from Union Station.

 
          
"How
about T-Coast?" Gerry said.

 
          
Gin
looked at the sign,
Tortilla
Coast
. Mexican food. "It's not a Taco Bell,
but I guess we can make do." She was too wound up to eat, but just sitting
in the sun would be good.

 
          
They
took a corner table near the sidewalk.

 
          
"So
what's the problem?" she said as the hostess left them with their menus.

 
          
"I
heard about Senator Vincent."

 
          
"It
was terrible."

 
          
"You
realize, don't you, that he's the third member of your committee to bite the
dust."

           
"Yes. Senator Marsden and I
were just discussing it. But what,?"

           
"I did some quick background
on him. Checked if he'd had any surgery recently." He paused, staring at
her. "You know what's coming next, don't you." It wasn't a question.
What was he getting at? Why was the FBI interested?

 
          
"
Duncan
."

 
          
"Right.
That makes four."

           
"Four what?"

           
"Four dead or disabled
legislators, two senators, two congressmen, all Lathram patients. Three of them
on the Guidelines committee. Could your Dr. Lathram have it in for that
committee or something?" Gin suddenly felt a little queasy.

 
          
He
was echoing her own crazy thoughts.

 
          
The
waitress arrived then. Gin agreed to share Gerry's nacho platter and ordered a
Pepsi. Considering what the morning had been like, she could have done with a
brew, she'd acquired a taste for
Dixie
while
at Tulane, but she didn't want to show up at the senator's staff meeting this
afternoon with beer on her breath.

 
          
"He
was there this morning, you know," she said when they were alone again.

 
          
"Who?"

           
"
Duncan
. And he was on the Capitol steps when
Allard took his fall."

 
          
"You
were there? You never told me. How close was he?"

           
"You mean, did
Duncan
push him? Come on. But he . . . " She
hesitated, wondering if she should mention it, then plunged ahead. "
Duncan
's last words to Allard were something about
Lisa."

 
          
"His
daughter? The one who,?"

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