Godplayer

Nine

Cassi was in a state of shock. She couldn’t believe the change that had come over Thomas. At around five o’clock he’d called her saying his surgery for that evening had been canceled and that he was free. He then offered to drive her home in the Porsche, saying she should leave her car at the hospital.

For the first time in months, dinner was a pleasant affair. Thomas had suddenly become his old charming self, the man Cassi had married. He tolerated Patricia’s usual complaints with easy humor and was openly loving and affectionate toward Cassi.

Cassi was infinitely pleased although a little confused. It was hard to believe that Thomas had forgotten the wrenching events of the previous evening, but she watched in amazement as he hurried his mother back to her apartment and solicitously poured Cassi a Kahlua. He fixed himself a cognac. They settled on the oval couch in front of the fire.

“I got a call from Dr. Obermeyer,” he said, sipping his drink. “But by the time I called him back he’d left for the day. What’s happening about your eye?”

“I saw him today. He said that since my vision hasn’t cleared I must have the surgery.”

“When?” Thomas’s voice was mellow. He was swirling his cognac.

“As soon as possible,” said Cassi hesitantly.

Thomas absorbed the news with apparent equanimity, and Cassi continued. “I guess Dr. Obermeyer was trying to reach you because he scheduled me for the day after tomorrow. Unless, of course, you object.”

“Object?” asked Thomas. “Why would I object? Your eyesight is far too important to take chances with.”

Cassi let out a sigh of relief. She had been so concerned about Thomas’s response she hadn’t realized she was holding her breath.

“Even though I know it’s a minor operation, I’m still frightened to death.”

Thomas leaned over and put his arm around her. “Of course you’re scared. It’s a natural reaction. But Martin Obermeyer is the best. You couldn’t be in better hands.”

“I know,” said Cassi, with a weak smile.

“And I made a decision this afternoon,” Thomas said holding her tighter. “As soon as Obermeyer gives you the green light, we’ll take a vacation. Some place like the Caribbean. Ballantine convinced me that I need some time off, and what better time could there be than while you’re recuperating. What do you say?”

“I say that sounds wonderful.” She turned her face up to kiss him as the phone rang.

Thomas got up to answer it. She hoped he wasn’t being called back to the hospital.

“Seibert,” said Thomas into the phone. “Nice to hear your voice.”

Cassi leaned forward and carefully set her glass on the coffee table. Robert had never called her at home. This was just the kind of interruption that could throw Thomas into a frenzy.

But he was saying calmly, “She’s right here, Robert. No, it’s not too late.”

With a smile he handed the phone to Cassi.

“I hope it’s all right that I called you at home,” said Robert, “but I managed to sneak up to pathology and look at Jeoffry Washington’s vein sections. After I got back to my room, I remembered where I’d seen such precipitates before. I had been doing the post on a man killed in an industrial accident. He had spilled concentrated sodium fluoride onto his lap. Even though he’d rinsed himself off, enough of the substance had been absorbed to prove fatal. He had the same kind of precipitation in his veins.”

Cassi lowered her voice, turning her back to Thomas. She did not want him to know she was still following the SSD study. “But sodium fluoride isn’t used as a medication.”

“It is on teeth,” said Robert.

“But it’s not given internally,” Cassi whispered. “And certainly not by IV.”

“That’s true,” said Robert. “But let me tell you how this accident victim died. He had grand mal seizures, and finally acute cardiac arrhythmia. Sound familiar?”

Cassi knew that six patients in the SSD series had died with the same symptoms, but she didn’t say anything. Sodium fluoride wasn’t the only thing that could cause them, and there was no sense jumping to conclusions.

“As soon as I get back in the lab,” said Robert, “I’ll be able to analyze these precipitates. I’ll find out if they are sodium fluoride. If they are, you know what that means, don’t you?”

“I have an idea,” said Cassi reluctantly.

“It means murder,” said Robert.

“What was that all about?” asked Thomas when Cassi had rejoined him on the couch. “Does Robert have some new brainstorm about his SSD series?” To Cassi’s surprise Thomas only seemed curious, not upset. She decided it was safe to tell him a little about Robert’s progress.

“He’s still working on it,” she said. “He’d begun to collate the data just before he was admitted to the hospital. He got a computer printout that showed some rather interesting results.”

“Like what?” asked Thomas.

“Oh, any number of possibilities,” Cassi said evasively. “He can’t rule out anything. I mean, all sorts of things can happen in hospitals. Remember those poor people in New Jersey who were given curare?” Cassi laughed nervously.

“Surely he doesn’t suspect murder?” said Thomas.

“No, no,” said Cassi, sorry she said so much. “He just noticed an odd precipitate at the last autopsy that he wanted to track through the data.” Thomas nodded and appeared to be thinking. Hoping to restore his good humor, Cassi added, “Robert really appreciated your intervening on his behalf.”

“I know,” said Thomas, suddenly smiling. “I didn’t do it for his benefit, but if he insists on seeing it that way, it’s fine with me. Now I think we should go to bed.”

As he tenderly guided her upstairs, Cassi wasn’t sure just what she read in his extraordinary blue eyes. She shivered, not entirely sure if it was with pleasurable expectation.