Chromosome 6

CHAPTER 18

MARCH 7, 1997

6:15 A.M.

NEW YORK CITY

JACK’S lids blinked open, and he was instantly awake. He sat up and rubbed his gritty eyes. He was still tired from the poor night’s sleep the night before last and from having stayed up later than he planned the previous evening, but he was too keyed up to fall back asleep.

Getting up off the couch, Jack wrapped himself in his blanket against the morning chill and went to the bedroom door. He listened for a moment. Convinced that Laurie was still sound asleep, he cracked the door. As he’d expected, Laurie was on her side under a mound of covers, breathing deeply.

As quietly as possible, Jack tiptoed across the bedroom and entered the bathroom. Once the door was closed, he quickly shaved and showered. When he reappeared, he was pleased to see that Laurie had not budged.

Getting fresh clothes from his closet and bureau, Jack carried them out into the living room and got dressed. A few minutes later, he emerged from his building into the predawn light. It was raw and cold with a few snowflakes dancing in the gusts of wind.

Across the street was a squad car with two uniformed policemen drinking coffee and reading the morning papers with the help of the interior light. They recognized Jack and waved. Jack waved back. Lou had kept his word.

Jack jogged down the street to the local deli on Columbus Avenue. One of the policemen dutifully followed. Jack thought about buying him a donut but decided against it; he didn’t want the cop to take it the wrong way.

With an armload of juice, coffee, fruit, and fresh bagels, he returned to the apartment. Laurie was up and was in the shower. Jack knocked on the door to announce that breakfast was served whenever she was ready.

Laurie appeared a few minutes later clad in Jack’s robe. Her hair was still wet. The sequelae from the previous night’s run-in with Angelo did not look bad. All that was apparent was a mild black eye.

“Now that you’ve had a night’s sleep to think about this trip, do you still feel the same?” Laurie asked.

“Absolutely,” Jack said. “I’m psyched.”

“Are you really going to pay for everyone’s ticket?” she asked. “This could get expensive.”

“What else do I have to spend my money on?” Jack said. He glanced around his apartment. “Certainly not my lifestyle, and the bike is all paid for.”

“Seriously,” Laurie said. “I can understand Esteban to some extent, but Warren and Natalie?”

The previous night when the proposal had been presented to Teodora, she had reminded her husband that one of them had to stay in the city to mind the market and be there for their teenage son. The decision that Esteban would go instead of Teodora had been decided by the flip of a coin.

“I was serious about making it fun,” Jack said. “Even if we don’t learn anything, which is a possibility, it will at least be a great trip. I could see in Warren’s eyes his interest to visit that part of Africa. And on the way back, we’ll spend a night or two in Paris.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Laurie said. “I was against your going at first, but now I’m excited myself.”

“Now all we have to do is convince Bingham,” Jack said.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Laurie said. “Neither of us has taken the vacation time they’ve wanted us to. And Lou said he’d put in his two cents about the threats. He’d like to get us out of town.”

“I never trust bureaucracy,” Jack said. “But I’ll be optimistic. And assuming we’re going, let’s divvy up the errands. I’ll go ahead and get the tickets while you, Warren, and Natalie take care of the visa situation. Also, we’ve got to arrange for some shots and start malaria prophylaxis. We really should have more time for immunizations, but we’ll do the best we can, and we’ll take a lot of insect repellant.”

“Sounds good,” Laurie said.

Because of Laurie, Jack left his beloved mountain bike in his apartment. Together, they cabbed down to the medical examiner’s office. When they walked into the ID room Vinnie lowered his newspaper and looked at them as if they were ghosts.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked with a voice that broke. He cleared his throat.

“What kind of question is that?” Jack asked. “We work here, Vinnie. Have you forgotten?”

“I just didn’t think you two were on call,” Vinnie said. He hastily took a drink from his coffee cup before coughing again.

Jack and Laurie went to the coffee urn. “He’s been in a weird mood for the last couple of days,” Jack whispered.

Laurie glanced back at Vinnie over her shoulder. Vinnie had gone back behind his newspaper.

“That was a strange reaction,” she agreed. “I noticed he was nervous around me yesterday.”

Jack and Laurie’s eyes met. They regarded each other for a moment.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Laurie asked.

“Maybe,” Jack said. “It kind of fits. He certainly has access.”

“I think we should say something to Lou,” Laurie said. “I’d hate it to be Vinnie, but we have to find out who’s been giving out confidential information around here.”

Conveniently for Laurie, her week-long rotation as the day chief was over, and Paul Plodgett’s was starting. Paul was already at the desk, going over the cases that had come in the previous night. Laurie and Jack told him they were planning on taking vacation time and wanted to skip doing any autopsies that day unless there was a glut. Paul assured them that the case load was light.

Laurie was more politically minded than Jack, and it was her opinion that they should approach Calvin about their vacation plans before they talked with Bingham. Jack bowed to her better judgment. Calvin’s response was to merely grunt that they could have given more notice.

As soon as Bingham arrived, Laurie and Jack went to his office. He regarded them curiously over the tops of his wire-rimmed glasses. He was clutching the morning mail, which he was in the process of going through.

“You want two weeks starting today?” he questioned with disbelief. “What’s the rush? Is this some sort of an emergency?”

“We’re planning on an adventure-type trip,” Jack said. “We’d like to leave this evening.”

Bingham’s watery eyes went back and forth between Laurie and Jack. “You two aren’t planning on getting married, are you?”

“Not that adventuresome,” Jack said.

Laurie sputtered with laughter. “We’re sorry not to have given more notice,” she said. “The reason for the haste is because last night both of us were threatened over the Franconi case.”

“Threatened?” Bingham questioned. “Does it have anything to do with that shiner you’ve got?”

“I’m afraid so,” Laurie said. She’d tried to cover the bruise with makeup but had only been partially successful.

“Who was behind these threats?” Bingham asked.

“One of the New York crime families,” Laurie said. “Lieutenant Louis Soldano offered to fill you in on it as well as talk to you about a possible mole for the crime family here in the medical examiner’s office. We think we have figured out how Franconi’s body was taken from here.”

“I’m listening,” Bingham said. He put the mail down and leaned back in his chair.

Laurie explained the story, emphasizing that the Spoletto Funeral Home had to have been given the accession number of the unidentified case.

“Did Detective Soldano think it wise for you two to leave town?” Bingham asked.

“Yes, he did,” Laurie said.

“Fine,” Bingham said. “Then you’re out of here. Am I supposed to call Soldano or is he calling me?”

“It was our understanding that he was going to call you,” Laurie said.

“Good,” Bingham said. Then he looked directly at Jack. “What about the liver issue?”

“That’s up in the air,” Jack said. “I’m still waiting on some more tests.”

Bingham nodded and commented: “This case is a goddamned pain in the ass. Just make sure I’m informed cf any breaking news while you’re away. I don’t want any surprises.” He looked down at his desk and picked up the mail. “You people have a good trip and send me a postcard.”

Laurie and Jack went out into the hall and smiled at each other.

“Well, it looks good,” Jack said. “Bingham was the major potential stumbling block.”

“I wonder if we should have told him we’re going to Africa because of the liver issue?” Laurie asked.

“I don’t think so,” Jack said. “He might have changed his mind about letting us go. As far as he’s concerned, he wishes this case would just disappear.”

Retiring to their separate offices, Laurie phoned the Equatoguinean Embassy about the visas, while Jack called the airlines. She quickly learned that Esteban had been right about the ease of getting a visa and that it could be done that morning. Jack found Air France happy to make all the arrangements, and he agreed to stop by their office that afternoon to pick up the tickets.

Laurie appeared in Jack’s office. She was beaming. “I’m beginning to think this is really going to happen,” she said excitedly. “How’d you do?”

“Fine,” Jack said. “We leave tonight at seven-fifty.”

“I can’t believe this,” Laurie said. “I feel like a teenager going on my first trip.”

After making arrangements with the travel and immunization office at the Manhattan General Hospital, they called Warren. He agreed to get in touch with Natalie and meet them at the hospital.

The nurse practitioner gave each of them a battery of shots as well as prescriptions for antimalarial drugs. She also urged them to wait a full week before exposure. Jack explained that was impossible. The nurse’s response was to say that she was glad they were going and not she.

In the hall outside the travel office, Warren asked Jack what the woman meant.

“It takes up to a week for these shots to take effect,” Jack explained. “That is, except for the gamma globulin.”

“Are we taking a risk, then?” Warren asked.

“Life’s a risk,” Jack quipped. “Seriously, there’s some risk, but each day our immune systems will be better prepared. The main problem is the malaria, but I intend to take a hell of a lot of insect repellant.”

“So you’re not concerned?” Warren asked.

“Not enough to keep me home,” Jack said.

After leaving the hospital, they all went to a passport photo place and had snapshots taken. With those in hand, Laurie, Warren, and Natalie left to visit the Equatoguinean Embassy.

Jack caught a taxi and directed it to the University Hospital. Once there, he went directly up to Dr. Peter Malovar’s lab. As usual he found the aged pathologist bent over his microscope. Jack waited respectfully until the professor had finished studying his current slide.

“Ahhh, Dr. Stapleton,” Dr. Malovar said, catching sight of Jack. “I’m glad you came. Now, where is that slide of yours?”

Dr. Malovar’s lab was a dusty clutter of books, journals, and hundreds of slide trays. The wastebaskets were perennially overflowing. The professor steadfastly refused to allow anybody into his work space to clean lest they disturb his structured disorder.

With surprising speed, the professor located Jack’s slide on top of a veterinary pathology book. His nimble fingers picked it up and slipped it under the microscope’s objective.

“Dr. Osgood’s suggestion to have this reviewed by Dr. Hammersmith was crackerjack,” Dr. Malovar said as he focused. When he was satisfied, he sat back, picked up the book, and opened it to the page indicated by a clean microscope slide. He handed the book to Jack.

Jack looked at the page Dr. Malovar indicated. It was a photomicrograph of a section of liver. There was a granuloma similar to the one on Jack’s slide.

“It’s the same,” Dr. Malovar said. He motioned for Jack to compare by looking into the microscope.

Jack leaned forward and studied the slide. The images did seem identical.

“This is certainly one of the more interesting slides you have brought to me,” Dr. Malovar said. He pushed a lock of his wild, gray hair out of his eyes. “As you can read from the book, the offending organism is called hepatocystis.”

Jack straightened up from looking at his slide to glance back at the book. He’d never heard of hepatocystis.

“Is it rare?” Jack asked.

“In the New York City morgue I’d have to say yes,” Dr. Malovar said. “Extremely rare! You see it is only found in primates. And not only that, but it is only found in Old World primates, meaning primates found in Africa and Southeast Asia. It’s never been seen in the New World and never in humans.”

“Never?” Jack questioned.

“Put it this way,” Dr. Malovar said. “I’ve never seen it, and I’ve seen a lot of liver parasites. More important, Dr. Osgood has never seen it, and he has seen more liver parasites than I. With that kind of combined experience, I’d have to say it does not exist in humans. Of course, in the endemic areas, it might be a different story, but even there it would have to be rare. Otherwise we’d have seen a case or two.”

“I appreciate your help,” Jack said distractedly. He was already wrestling with the implications of this surprising bit of information. It was a much stronger suggestion that Franconi had had a xenotransplant than the mere fact that he’d gone to Africa.

“This would be an interesting case to present at our grand rounds,” Dr. Malovar said. “If you are interested, let me know.”

“Of course,” Jack said noncommittally. His mind was in a whirl.

Jack left the professor, took the hospital elevator down to the ground floor, and started toward the medical examiner’s office. Finding an Old World primate parasite in a liver sample was very telling evidence. But then there were the confusing results that Ted Lynch had gotten on the DNA analysis to contend with. And on top of that was the fact there was no inflammation in the liver with no immunosuppressant drugs. The only thing that was certain was that it all didn’t make sense.

Arriving back at the morgue, Jack went directly up to the DNA lab with the intention of grilling Ted in the hope that he could come up with some hypothesis to explain what was going on. The problem as Jack saw it was that Jack didn’t know enough about current DNA science to come up with an idea on his own. The field was changing too rapidly.

“Jesus, Stapleton, where the hell have you been!” Ted snapped the moment he saw Jack. “I’ve been calling all over creation and nobody’s seen you.”

“I’ve been out,” Jack said defensively. He thought for a second about explaining what was going on then changed his mind. Too much had happened in the previous twelve hours.

“Sit down!” Ted commanded.

Jack sat.

Ted searched around on his desktop until he located a particular sheet of developed film covered with hundreds of minute dark bands. He handed it to Jack.

“Ted, why do you do this to me?” Jack complained. “You know perfectly well I have no idea what I’m looking at with these things.”

Ted ignored Jack, while he searched for another similar piece of celluloid. He found it under a laboratory budget he was working on. He handed the second one to Jack.

“Hold them up to the light,” Ted said.

Jack did as he was told. He looked at the two sheets. Even he could tell they were different.

Ted pointed to the first sheet of celluloid. “This is a study of the region of the DNA that codes for ribosomal protein of a human being. I just picked a case at random to show you what it looks like.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Jack said.

“Let’s not be sarcastic,” Ted said.

“I’ll try,” Jack said.

“Now, this other one is a study of Franconi’s liver sample,” Ted said. “It’s the same region using the same enzymes as the first study. Can you see how different it is?”

“That’s the only thing I can see,” Jack said.

Ted snatched away the human study and tossed it aside. Then he pointed at the film Jack was still holding. “As I told you yesterday this information is on CD-ROM so I was able to let the computer make a match of the pattern. It came back that it was most consistent with a chimpanzee.”

“Not definitely a chimpanzee?” Jack asked. Nothing seemed to be definite about this case.

“No, but close,” Ted said. “Kind of like a cousin of a chimpanzee. Something like that.”

“Do chimps have cousins?” Jack asked.

“You got me,” Ted said with a shrug. “But I’ve been dying to give you this information. You have to admit it’s rather impressive.”

“So from your perspective it was a xenograft,” Jack said.

Ted shrugged again. “If you made me guess, I’d have to say yes. But taking the DQ alpha results into consideration, I don’t know what to say. Also I’ve taken it upon myself to run the DNA for the ABO blood groups. So far that’s coming up just like the DQ alpha. I think it’s going to be a perfect match for Franconi, which only confuses things farther. It’s a weird case.”

“Tell me about it!” Jack said. He then related to Ted the discovery of an Old World primate parasite.

Ted made an expression of confusion. “I’m glad this is your case and not mine,” he said.

Jack placed the sheet of celluloid on Ted’s desk. “If I’m lucky, I might have some answers in the next few days,” he said. “Tonight I’m off to Africa to visit the same country Franconi did.”

“Is the office sending you?” Ted asked with surprise.

“Nope,” Jack said. “I’m going on my own. Well, that’s not quite true. I mean, I’m paying for it, but Laurie is going, too.”

“My god, you are thorough,” Ted said.

“Dogged is probably a better word,” Jack said.

Jack got up to go. When he reached the door, Ted called out to him: “I did get the results of the mitochondrial DNA back. There was a match with Mrs. Franconi, so at least your identification was right.”

“Finally something definitive,” Jack said.

Jack was again about to leave when Ted called out again.

“I just had a crazy idea,” Ted said. “The only way I could explain the results I’ve been getting is if the liver was transgenic.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Jack asked.

“It means the liver contains DNA from two separate organisms,” Ted said.

“Hmmmm,” Jack said. “I’ll have to think about that one.”

COGO, EQUATORIAL GUINEA

Bertram looked at his watch. It was four o’clock in the afternoon. Raising his eyes to look out the window, he noticed that the sudden, violent tropical rainstorm which had totally darkened the sky only fifteen minutes earlier had already vanished. In its place was a steamy sunny African afternoon.

With sudden resolve Bertram reached for his phone and called up to the fertility center. The evening tech by the name of Shirley Cartwright answered.

“Have the two new breeding bonobo females got their hormone shots today?” Bertram asked.

“Not yet,” Shirley said.

“I thought the protocol called for them to get the shots at two p.m.,” Bertram said.

“That’s the usual schedule,” Shirley said hesitantly.

“Why the delay?” Bertram asked.

“Miss Becket hasn’t arrived yet,” Shirley explained reluctantly. The last thing she wanted to do was get her immediate boss in trouble, but she knew she couldn’t lie.

“When was she due?” Bertram asked.

“No particular time,” Shirley said. “She’d told the day staff she’d be busy all morning in her lab over at the hospital. I imagine she got tied up.”

“She didn’t leave instructions for the hormones to be given by someone else if she didn’t arrive by two?” Bertram asked.

“Apparently not,” Shirley said. “So I expect her at any minute.”

“If she doesn’t come in the next half hour, go ahead and give the scheduled doses,” Bertram said. “Will that be a problem?”

“No problem whatsoever, Doctor,” Shirley said.

Bertram disconnected and then dialed Melanie’s lab in the hospital complex. He was less familiar with the staff and didn’t know the person who answered. But the person knew Bertram and told him a disturbing story. Melanie hadn’t been in that day because she’d been tied up at the animal center.

Bertram hung up and nervously tapped the top of the phone with the nail of his index finger. Despite Siegfried’s assertions that he’d taken care of the potential problem with Kevin and his reputed girlfriends, Bertram was skeptical. Melanie was a conscientious worker. It certainly wasn’t like her to miss a scheduled injection.

Snapping up the phone again, Bertram tried calling Kevin, but there was no answer.

With his suspicions rising, Bertram got up from his desk and informed Martha, his secretary, that he’d be back in an hour. Outside, he climbed into his Cherokee and headed for town.

As he drove Bertram became increasingly certain that Kevin and the women had managed to go to the island, and it angered him. He berated himself for allowing Siegfried to lull him into a false sense of security. Bertram had a growing premonition that Kevin’s curiosity was going to cause major trouble.

At the point of transition from asphalt to cobblestones at the edge of town, Bertram had to brake abruptly. In his mounting vexation, he’d been unaware of his speed. The wet cobblestones from the recent downpour were as slick as ice, so Bertram’s car skidded several yards before coming to a complete stop.

Bertram parked in the hospital parking lot. He climbed to the third floor of the lab and pounded on Kevin’s door. There was no response. Bertram tried the door. It was locked.

Returning to his car, Bertram drove around the town square and parked behind the town hall. He nodded to the lazy group of soldiers lounging in broken rattan chairs in the shade of the arcade.

Taking the stairs by twos, Bertram presented himself to Aurielo and said he had to speak to Siegfried.

“He’s with the chief of security at the moment,” Aurielo said.

“Let him know I’m here,” Bertram said, as he began to pace the outer office. His irritation was mounting.

Five minutes later, Cameron McIvers emerged from the inner office. He said hello to Bertram, but Bertram ignored him in his haste to get in to see Siegfried.

“We’ve got a problem,” Bertram said. “Melanie Becket didn’t show up for a scheduled injection this afternoon, and Kevin Marshall is not in his lab.”

“I’m not surprised,” Siegfried said calmly. He sat back and stretched with his good arm. “They were both seen leaving early this morning with the nurse. The ménage-à-trois seems to be blossoming. They even had a dinner party late into the night at Kevin’s house, and then the women stayed over.

“Truly?” Bertram questioned. That the nerdy researcher could be involved in such a liaison seemed impossible.

“I should know,” Siegfried said. “I live across the green from Kevin. Besides, I met the women earlier at the Chickee Bar. They were already tipsy and told me they were on their way to Kevin’s.”

“Where did they go this morning?” Bertram asked.

“I assume to Acalayong,” Siegfried said. “They were seen leaving in a pirogue before dawn by a member of the janitorial staff.”

“Then they have gone to the island by water,” Bertram snapped.

“They were seen going west, not east,” Siegfried said.

“It could have been a ruse,” Bertram said.

“It could have,” Siegfried agreed. “And I thought of the possibility. I even discussed it with Cameron. But both of us are of the opinion that the only way to visit the island by water is to land at the staging area. The rest of the island is surrounded by a virtual wall of mangroves and marsh.”

Bertram’s eyes rose up to stare at the huge rhino heads on the wall behind Siegfried. Their brainless carcasses reminded him of the site manager, yet Bertram had to admit in this instance he had a point. In fact, when the island was initially considered for the bonobo project its inaccessibility by water had been one of its attractions.

“And they couldn’t have landed at the staging area,” Siegfried continued, “because the soldiers are still out there itching to have an excuse to use their AK-47’s.” Siegfried laughed. “It tickles me every time I think of their shooting out Melanie’s car windows.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Bertram said grudgingly.

“Of course I’m right,” Siegfried said.

“But I’m still concerned,” Bertram said. “And suspicious. I want to get into Kevin’s office.”

“For what reason?” Siegfried asked.

“I was stupid enough to show him how to tap into the software we’d developed for locating the bonobos,” Bertram said. “Unfortunately, he’s been taking advantage of it. I know because he’s accessed it on several occasions for long periods of time. I’d like to see if I can find out what he’d been up to.”

“I’d say that sounds quite reasonable,” Siegfried said. He called out to Aurielo to see to it that Bertram had an entrance card for the lab. Then he said to Bertram: “Let me know if you find anything interesting.”

“Don’t worry,” Bertram said.

Armed with the magnetic pass card, Bertram returned to the lab and entered Kevin’s space. Locking the door behind him, he first went through Kevin’s desk. Finding nothing, he made a quick tour of the room. The first sign of trouble was a stack of computer paper next to the printer that Bertram recognized as printouts of the island graphic.

Bertram examined each page. He could tell that they represented varying scales. What he couldn’t figure out was the meaning of all the surcharged geometric shapes.

Putting the pages aside, Bertram went to Kevin’s computer and began to search through his directories. It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for: the source of the information on the printouts.

For the next half hour, Bertram was transfixed by what he found: Kevin had devised a way to follow individual animals in real time. After Bertram played with this capability for a while, he came across Kevin’s stored information documenting the animals’ movement over a period of several hours. From this information, Bertram was able to reproduce the geometric shapes.

“You are too clever for your own good,” Bertram said out loud as he allowed the computer to run sequentially through the movements of each animal. By the time the program had run its course, Bertram had seen the problem with bonobo numbers sixty and sixty-seven.

With mounting anxiety, Bertram tried to get the indicators for the two animals to move. When he couldn’t, he went back to real time and displayed the two animals’ current position. They’d not changed one iota.

“Good lord!” Bertram moaned. All at once, the worry about Kevin vanished and was replaced with a more pressing problem. Turning off the computer, Bertram snapped up the printed island graphics, and ran out of the lab. Outside, he passed up his car to run directly across the square to the town hall. He knew it would take less time on foot.

He raced up the stairs. As he entered the outer office, Aurielo looked up. Bertram ignored him. He burst into Siegfried’s office unannounced.

“I’ve got to talk with you immediately,” Bertram sputtered to Siegfried. He was out of breath.

Siegfried was meeting with his food-service supervisor. Both appeared stunned by Bertram’s arrival.

“It’s an emergency,” Bertram added.

The food-service supervisor stood up. “I can return later,” he said and left.

“This better be important,” Siegfried warned.

Bertram waved the computer printouts. “It’s very bad news,” he said. He took the chair vacated by the supervisor. “Kevin Marshall figured out a way to follow the bonobos over time.”

“So what?” Siegfried said.

“At least two of the bonobos don’t move,” Bertram said. “Number sixty and number sixty-seven. And they haven’t moved for more than twenty-four hours. There’s only one explanation. They’re dead!”

Siegfried raised his eyebrows. “Well, they’re animals,” he said. “Animals die. We have to expect some attrition.”

“You don’t understand,” Bertram said with a tinge of disdain. “You made light of my concern that the animals had split into two groups. I told you that it was significant. This, unfortunately, is proof. As sure as I’m standing here, those animals are killing each other!”

“You think so?” Siegfried asked with alarm.

“There’s no doubt in my mind,” Bertram said. “I’ve been agonizing over why they split up into two groups. I decided it had to have been because we forgot to maintain the balance between males and females. There’s no other explanation, and it means the males are fighting over the females. I’m sure of it.”

“Oh my god!” Siegfried exclaimed, with a shake of his head. “That’s terrible news.”

“It’s more than terrible,” Bertram said. “It’s intolerable. It will be the ruin of the whole program provided we don’t act.”

“What can we do?” Siegfried asked.

“First, we tell no one!” Bertram said. “If there is ever an order to harvest either sixty or sixty-seven, we’ll deal with that particular problem then. Second, and more important, we must bring the animals in like I’ve been advocating. The bonobos won’t be killing each other if they’re in separate cages.”

Siegfried had to accept the white-haired veterinarian’s advice. Although he’d always favored the animals being off by themselves for logistical and security reasons, its time was past. The animals could not be allowed to kill each other. In a very real way, there was no choice.

“When should we retrieve them?” Siegfried asked.

“As soon as possible,” Bertram said. “I can have a team of security-cleared animal handlers ready by dawn tomorrow. We’ll begin by darting the splinter group. Once we have all the animals caged, which should take no more than two or three days, we’ll move them at night to a section of the animal center that I will prepare.”

“I suppose I’d better recall that contingent of soldiers out by the bridge,” Siegfried said. “The last thing we need is for them to shoot the animal handlers.”

“I didn’t like having them out there in the first place,” Bertram said. “I was afraid they might have shot one of the animals for sport or soup.”

“When should we inform our respective bosses at GenSys?” Siegfried asked.

“Not until it is done,” Bertram said. “Only then will we know how many animals have been killed. Maybe we’ll also have a better idea of the best ultimate disposition. My guess is we’ll have to build a separate, new facility.”

“For that, we’d need authorization,” Siegfried said.

“Obviously,” Bertram said. He stood up. “All I can say is that it is a damn good thing I had the foresight to move all those cages out there.”

NEW YORK CITY

Raymond felt better than he had in days. Things seemed to have gone well from the moment he’d gotten up. Just after nine he’d called Dr. Waller Anderson, and not only was the doctor going to join, he already had two clients ready to plunk down their deposits and head out to the Bahamas for the bone marrow aspirations.

Then around noon Raymond had gotten a call from Dr. Alice Norwood, whose office was on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. She’d called to say that she’d recruited three physicians with large private practices who were eager to come on board. One was in Century City, another in Brentwood, and the last was in Bel-Air. She was convinced that these doctors would soon provide a flood of clients because the market on the West Coast for the service Raymond was offering was nothing short of phenomenal.

But what had pleased Raymond the most during the day was whom he didn’t hear from. There were no calls from either Vinnie Dominick or Dr. Daniel Levitz. Raymond took this silence to mean that the Franconi business had finally been put to bed.

At three-thirty, the door buzzer went off. Darlene answered it and with a tearful voice told Raymond that his car was waiting.

Raymond took his girlfriend in his arms and patted her on the back. “Next time maybe you can go,” Raymond said consolingly.

“Really?” she asked.

“I can’t guarantee it,” Raymond said. “But we’ll try.” Raymond had no control over the GenSys flights. Darlene had been able to go on only one of the trips to Cogo. On all the other occasions, the plane had been full on one of the segments. As standard procedure, the plane flew from the States to Europe and then on to Bata. On the return trip the same general itinerary was followed, although it was always a different European city.

After promising to call as soon as he arrived in Cogo, Raymond carried his bag downstairs. He climbed into the waiting sedan and luxuriously leaned back.

“Would you like the radio on, sir?” the driver asked.

“Sure, why not,” Raymond said. He was already beginning to enjoy himself.

The drive across town was the most difficult part of the trip. Once they were on the West Side Highway, they were able to make good time. There was a lot of traffic, but since rush hour had not begun, the traffic moved fluidly. It was the same situation on the George Washington Bridge. In less than an hour Raymond was dropped off at Teterboro Airport.

The GenSys plane had not yet arrived, but Raymond was not concerned. He positioned himself in the lounge, where he had a view of the runway and ordered himself a scotch. Just as he was being served, the sleek GenSys jet swooped in low out of the clouds and touched down. It taxied over to a position directly in front of Raymond.

It was a beautiful aircraft painted white with a red stripe along its side. Its only markings were its call sign, N69SU, and a tiny American flag. Both were on the fin of the tail assembly.

As if in slow motion, a forward door opened and self-contained steps extended down toward the tarmac. An impeccably dressed steward in dark-blue livery appeared in the doorway, descended the stairs and entered the general aviation building. His name was Roger Perry. Raymond remembered him well. Along with another steward named Jasper Devereau, he’d been on the plane every trip Raymond had made.

Once inside the building, Roger scanned the lounge. The moment he spotted Raymond, he walked over and greeted him with a salute.

“Is this the extent of your luggage, sir?” Roger asked as he picked up Raymond’s bag.

“That’s it,” Raymond said. “Are we leaving already? Isn’t the plane going to refuel?” That had been the procedure on previous flights.

“We’re all set,” Roger said.

Raymond got to his feet and followed the steward out into the gray, raw March afternoon. As he approached the luxurious private jet, Raymond hoped there were people watching him. At times like this, he felt as if he were living the life that was meant for him. He even told himself that he was lucky he’d lost his medical license.

“Tell me, Roger,” Raymond called out just before they reached the stairs. “Are we full on the flight to Europe?” On every flight Raymond had been on, there’d been other GenSys executives.

“Only one other passenger,” Roger said. He stepped to the side at the base of the stairs and gestured for Raymond to precede him.

Raymond smiled as he climbed. With only one other passenger and two stewards, the flight was going to be even more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. The troubles that he’d had over the previous few days seemed a small price to pay for such luxury.

Just inside the plane, he was met by Jasper. Jasper took his overcoat and jacket and asked if Raymond wanted a drink before takeoff.

“I’ll wait,” Raymond said gallantly.

Jasper pulled aside the drape that separated the galley from the cabin. Swelling with pride, Raymond passed into the main part of the plane. He was debating which of the deeply cushioned leather chairs to take when his eyes passed over the face of the other passenger. Raymond froze. At the same time, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Hello, Dr. Lyons. Welcome aboard.”

“Taylor Cabot!” Raymond croaked. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“I suppose not,” Taylor said. “I’m surprised to see myself.” He smiled and gestured toward the seat next to him.

Raymond quickly sat down. He berated himself for not taking the drink Jasper had offered. His throat had gone bone-dry.

“I’d been informed of the plane’s flight plan,” Taylor explained, “and since there was a window of opportunity in my schedule, I thought it wise for me to personally check on our Cogo operation. It was a last-minute decision. Of course, we’ll be making a stop in Zurich for me to have a short meeting with some bankers. I hope you won’t find that inconvenient.”

Raymond shook his head. “No, not at all,” he stammered.

“And how are things going with the bonobo project?” Taylor asked.

“Very well,” Raymond managed. “We’re expecting a number of new clients. In fact, we’re having trouble keeping up with demand.”

“And what about that regrettable episode with Carlo Franconi?” Taylor enquired. “I trust that has been successfully dealt with.”

“Yes, of course,” Raymond sputtered. He tried to smile.

“Part of the reason I’m making this trip is to be reassured that project is worth supporting,” Taylor said. “My chief financial officer assures me that it is now turning a small profit. But my operations officer has reservations about jeopardizing our primate research business. So, I have to make a decision. I hope you will be willing to help me.”

“Certainly,” Raymond squeaked, as he heard the characteristic whine of the jet engines starting.

It was like a party at the bar in the international departure lounge at JFK airport. Even Lou was there having a beer and popping peanuts into his mouth. He was in a great mood and acted as if he were going on the trip.

Jack, Laurie, Warren, Natalie, and Esteban were sitting with Lou at a round table in the corner of the bar. Over their heads was a television tuned to a hockey game. The frantic voice of the announcer and the roar of the fans added to the general din.

“It’s been a great day,” Lou yelled to Jack and Laurie. “We picked up Vido Delbario, and he’s singing to save his ass. I think we’ll be making a major dent in the Vaccarro organization.”

“What about Angelo Facciolo and Franco Ponti?” Laurie asked.

“That’s another story,” Lou said with a laugh. “For once the judge sided with us and set bail at two million each. What did the trick was the police impersonation charge.”

“How about Spoletto Funeral Home?” Laurie asked.

“That’s going to be a gold mine,” Lou said. “The owner is the brother of the wife of Vinnie Dominick. You remember him, don’t you, Laurie?”

Laurie nodded. “How can I forget?”

“Who’s Vinnie Dominick?” Jack asked.

“He played a surprising role in the Cerino affair,” Laurie explained.

“He’s with the competing Lucia organization,” Lou said. “They’ve been having a field day after Cerino’s fall. But my gut feeling tells me we’re going to puncture their balloon.”

“What about the mole in the medical examiner’s office?” Laurie asked.

“Hey, first things first,” Lou said. “We’ll get to that. Don’t worry.”

“When you do, check out one of the techs by the name of Vinnie Amendola,” Laurie said.

“Any particular reason?” Lou asked, as he wrote down the name in the small notebook he carried in the side pocket of his jacket.

“Just a suspicion,” Laurie said.

“Consider it done,” Lou said. “You know, this episode shows how fast things can change. Yesterday I was in the dog house, whereas today I’m the golden boy. I even got a call from the captain about a possible commendation. Can you believe it?”

“You deserve it,” Laurie said.

“Hey, if I get one, you guys should get one, too,” Lou said.

Jack felt someone tap on his arm. It was the waitress. She asked if they wanted another round.

“Hey, everybody?” Jack called out above the babble of voices. “More beer?”

Jack looked first at Natalie who put her hand over her glass to indicate she was fine. She looked radiant in a dark purple jumpsuit. She was a third-grade teacher at a public school in Harlem, but didn’t look like any teacher Jack could remember. From Jack’s perspective her features were reminiscent of the Egyptian sculptures in the Metropolitan Museum that Laurie had dragged him in to see. Her eyes were almond-shaped and her lips were full and generous. Her hair was done up in the most elaborate corn-row style that Jack had ever seen. Natalie had said that it was her sister’s forte.

When Jack looked at Warren to see whether he wanted more beer, he shook his head. Warren was sitting next to Natalie. He was wearing a sport jacket over a black T-shirt that somehow managed to hide his powerful physique. He looked happier than Jack had ever seen him. His mouth harbored a half smile instead of his normal expression of hard-lipped determination.

“I’m fine,” Esteban called out. He, too, was smiling, even more broadly than Warren.

Jack looked at Laurie. “No more for me. I want to save some room for wine with dinner on the plane.” Laurie had her auburn hair braided and was wearing a loose-fitting velour top with leggings. With her relaxed, ebullient demeanor and casual clothes Jack thought she looked like she was in college.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll have another beer,” Lou said.

“One beer,” Jack told the waitress. “Then the check.”

“How’d you guys make out today?” Lou asked Jack and Laurie.

“We’re here,” Jack said. “That was the goal. Laurie and the others got the visas, and I got the tickets.” He patted his stomach. “I also got a bunch of French francs and a money belt. I was told that the French franc was the hard currency of choice for that part of Africa.”

“What’s going to happen when you arrive?” Lou asked.

Jack pointed over to Esteban. “Our expatriate traveling companion has taken care of the arrangements. His cousin’s meeting us at the airport, and his wife’s brother has a hotel.”

“You should be fine,” Lou said. “What’s your plan?”

“Esteban’s cousin has arranged for us to rent a van,” Jack said. “So we’ll drive to Cogo.”

“And just drop in?” Lou asked.

“That’s the idea,” Jack said.

“Good luck,” Lou said.

“Thanks,” Jack said. “We’ll probably need it.”

A half hour later the group-minus Lou-merrily boarded the 747. They found their seats and stowed their carry-on baggage. No sooner had they gotten themselves situated than the huge plane lurched and was pulled from the gate.

Later when the engines began to scream and the plane began its dash down the runway to takeoff, Laurie felt Jack take her hand. He gripped it fiercely.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Jack nodded. “I’ve just learned not to like air travel,” he said.

Laurie understood.

“We’re on our way,” Warren exclaimed gleefully. “Africa, here we come!”