F Paul Wilson - Novel 02 (38 page)

MONDAY

           
OKAY, DOC. SHE S ALL SET.

 
          
Duncan
walked over to the corner of his office
where Harry stood on a small aluminum utility ladder. Dressed in a Guns n'
Roses T-shirt, he was heavyset, maybe forty, with a receding hairline and a
ponytail. He was positioning some of the bric-a-brac on the top shelf around
the sensor. When he finished, he stepped down and pointed to it.

 
          
"Would
you ever know it was there?" Duncan scrutinized the shelf.

 
          
The
sensor was a small brown rectangle the size of a cigarette box. It blended
neatly with the woodwork, appeared almost a part of the cabinet. The camcorder
lens looked like some sort of glass bauble.

 
          
Duncan
nodded approvingly. "Only if I knew
exactly where to look."

           
"Cool. Now just stand still a
moment while I get us some power " He plugged a transformer into the
outlet to the left of the sink. "All right. Now move your arms."
Duncan
waved his arms and saw a red dot begin to
glow on the sensor.

 
          
"Smile,"
Harry said. "You're on Candid Camera."

 
          
"What
about that little red light?"
Duncan
said.

 
          
"That
just means it sensed motion. You tripped the . . . . circuit.

 
          
"Yes,
but the light is a giveaway. The whole idea is surreptitious surveillance,
Harry. Kill that light."

 
          
"No
problem."
Duncan
sipped his morning coffee as Harry climbed back up his step ladder and
began whistling while he removed the back plate of the motion detector.

 
          
Harry
seemed to love his work. Why not?
Duncan
was paying him handsomely for playing at
his hobby.
Duncan
remembered how excited Harry had been when
he had challenged him to miniaturize an ultrasound transducer. That had taken
weeks, but the big bill had been more than worth it.

 
          
This
little chore, on the other hand, was a piece of cake. .
Duncan
had told him he thought one of his
employees might be pilfering. He'd said he had a pretty good idea who but
wanted to catch the culprit in the act. Which was true. He wanted to see if Gin
would try again.

 
          
Harry
had said that was cool. Yeah, what with the labor laws these days, you just
about had to catch someone red-handed before you could give them the cot.

 
          
Harry's
solution, a video camera activated by a motion detector.

 
          
"All
right," Harry said, coming off the ladder again. "The light's
disabled. Now, remember, the only time you want this thing on is when you're
out of the room. Otherwise you're gonna find yourself fast-forwarding through
umpteen hours of yourself sitting at your desk or making coffee or
whatever."

           
"Mostly whatever, I should
think,"
Duncan
said. "I often engage in whatever while I'm here."

 
          
"Cool,"
Harry said. He laid a finger on the upper edge of the transformer.

 
          
"Okay.
Two little buttons here. This one turns the power off, this one on. Just before
you leave, click it on. That'll arm the sensor. Any movement then will trip the
sensor which'll turn on the camera and you'll be taping for the entire time
someone's here until a full minute after they leave. It's also got a date and
time readout that'll appear in the corner of the picture. I fixed the cam with
a wide-angle lens so's you've got the whole office covered."

           
Duncan
said, "Cool."

 
          
"You
know, if you decide to make this a permanent setup, I can rig the camera
directly to a VCR and,''

           
"Just temporary, Harry, I
assure you. And here is your check." Harry glanced at the amount, said,
"Cool," one last time, packed up his tools, and was gone.

 
          
Okay,
my little cygnet,
Duncan
thought, staring into the blind eye of the video camera. The next step
is up to you.

 
          
He
glanced at the clock. Perfect timing. Harry had arrived early and done his work
quickly, leaving
Duncan
a few minutes to spare before scrubbing for the day's first surgery.

 
          
An
abbreviated schedule today, mostly minor procedures. Dr. Van Duyne was due here
about
noon
and
Duncan
wanted a clear field when he toured him and
the others around.

 
          
He
pushed The ON button, moved an empty carafe in front of the transformer, and
headed for the locker room. The back of his neck tingled with the knowledge
that his movement had triggered the sensor and his exit was being recorded.

 
          
Gin
rushed through her dictation and other paperwork so she'd be ready to tail
Duncan
when he took off. She'd had to hustle. The
way he'd whipped through those procedures this morning made her think he was in
a big rush to leave. But once surgery was over, he seemed in no great hurry to
go anywhere.

 
          
Gin
was up and down the stairs, keeping an eye on
Duncan
's office, ready to grab her coat as soon as
he looked like he was going to leave.

 
          
But
he seemed to be killing time. On one of her surveillance runs she glanced out
into the parking lot and saw the mysterious Dr. V. and two other men get out of
a gray sedan.

 
          
So
that's why he's hanging around.

 
          
Twenty
minutes later,
Duncan
was leading the trio downstairs on a tour.

 
          
"And
here are the nether regions. My brother's lab and our records room."

 
          
The
good-looking Dr. V. looked relaxed, but his two suited friends were as stiff
and uptight as they were clean-cut. Nosy too. Peeking into every closet, every
cubbyhole, asking questions in low voices Gin could not pick up.

 
          
"Just
showing these gentlemen around,"
Duncan
told Gin as they passed. "Don't let us
disturb you." He didn't bother with introductions.

 
          
She
followed the group upstairs and watched the two suits point to doors and
windows as they conferenced with each other. Neither of them smiled once. What
were they? Lawyers? Accountants? Security consultants?

 
          
Then
the entire entourage, including Oliver, retired to
Duncan
's office and closed the door.

 
          
What
was going on? She was pretty sure now it wasn't a matter of taking on a new
associate. Was
Duncan
selling the building? He'd never mentioned moving. And why did this Dr.
V. look familiar?

 
          
Curiosity
was eating Gin alive. She'd have given almost anything to be a fly on a wall in
that officer right now.

* * *

           
Forty-five minutes later all five
came out in a group. They stood in the hall, shaking hands. The suits looked as
grim as ever, Duncan and Dr. V. were pleasant, and Oliver was quite literally
beaming. Then the visitors headed for the parking lot,
Duncan
returned to his office, and Oliver bustled
down the hall toward Gin.

 
          
"This
is wonderful," he said as he approached. The overhead fluorescents gleamed
from his glasses and exposed scalp. He was grinning like a man who'd just won
the lottery. "This is so wonderful!"

           
"What is, Oliver? What's going
on?"

           
"I can't tell you," he
said as he hurried past her. "I wish I could, but I can't. Not now. Maybe
sometime." Gin watched him disappear into the stairwell down to his lab.
She'd never seen him like this. Had he worked out some huge deal for his
implants? She started to follow. She was sure she could pry it out of him.

 
          
But
then she saw
Duncan
shrugging into his sport coat as he stood before Barbara's desk. He was
talking, she was taking notes and nodding her head. Then he was on his way.

 
          
Gin
ducked into the locker room, grabbed her coat and purse, and hurried after him.
She'd have to put off grilling Oliver until later.

 
          
"Hey,
great news, " Barbara said as Gin passed her desk. "We've got a
three-day weekend coming up." Gin slowed. "When?"

           
"This weekend. We're going to
be closed on Friday. Dr. Lathram just told me to give everybody the day off
with pay. Isn't that great?"

           
"Yeah," Gin said, picking
up speed again. "Great." Friday off. Normally she'd assume
Duncan
had someplace to go this weekend and wanted
an extra day. But the decision seemed to have been made right after his
conference with Dr. V. and the suits. How come?

* * *

           
No surprise when
Duncan
's Mercedes led her away from his golf club,
but she was completely unprepared for the course he took through the District.
East, then down Connecticut, past Adams Morgan to Dupont Circle. From there he
took Massachusetts downtown.

 
          
He's
heading for the Hill, Gin thought, but he breezed past Union Station and kept
going, deep into Southeast. Mass was lined with two and three-story row houses
down here, painted in bright reds, yellows, blues, greens, even orange. The
neighborhoods deteriorated, on a couple of corners she saw men in rough clothes
drinking from bottles in paper bags. Gin was almost afraid to stop at the red
lights. And she was in a three-year-old American compact.
Duncan
's Mercedes stood out like a luxury yacht in
a fleet of tugboats. Yet nobody was bothering either of them.

 
          
What
was he doing here? He had such a haughty attitude, she could not imagine him
down here among the po' folk.

 
          
And
then they came to the end of
Mass Avenue
and she caught on. D. C. General Hospital
lay spread out on the downhill slope before them. She followed
Duncan
along the winding driveway through the
well-kept complex of a dozen or so brick and stucco buildings, past the D. C.
Correctional Treatment facility to a restricted parking lot, "Decals
Only" warned the sign. As
Duncan
turned in, Gin scooted into the nearby
patient lot. She saw uniformed guards everywhere. Security seemed a major
concern here.

 
          
She
spotted
Duncan
strolling toward the doctors' entrance, a
rectangular hole in the brick face of one of the buildings. How was she going
to get in? She wasn't on staff.