Seizure

seventeen

3:20 P.M., Friday, March 1, 2002

Daniel opened his eyes after lying perfectly still for a few minutes. He was alone in the changing cubicle, but he heard muffled voices beyond the door. It sounded as if a salesperson was directing a customer into one of the other cubicles. Daniel pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked at himself in the mirror. The left side of his face was beet red, and a trickle of blood went from his nose to the corner of his mouth before running down to the edge of his jaw. His right eye was beginning to swell shut and had a slightly bluish cast.

Gingerly, Daniel felt his nose and his right cheekbone with the tip of his index finger. Everything was tender, but there was neither pinpoint pain nor suspicious bony edges to suggest he had suffered a fracture. He got to his feet and, after a fleeting moment of dizziness, he felt reasonably well, except for a dull headache, wobbly legs, and a pervading sense of nervousness, as if he’d just drunk five cups of coffee. He held out his hand; he had a tremor to beat the band. The episode had terrified him; he’d never felt quite so vulnerable in his life.

Despite uncertain balance, Daniel managed to pull on his pants. He then wiped away the blood from his face with the back of his hand. In the process, he realized he’d suffered a gash inside his cheek. Carefully, he explored the area with his tongue. Luckily, it wasn’t large enough for him to believe he needed any stitches. Then he smoothed out the thinning hair on top of his head by raking it with his fingers. He opened the door and stepped out into the fitting room.

“Good afternoon,” a snappily dressed, African-Bahamian salesman said with a strong English drawl. He was dressed in a pinstriped suit accented with a colorful silk pocket square that appeared to have exploded out of his breast pocket. He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded awaiting his client to emerge from his changing room. He gave Daniel a quizzical look with arched eyebrows but said nothing more.

Afraid of how his voice might sound, Daniel merely nodded in reply while managing a tentative smile. He started forward on unsteady legs, acutely aware of his tremor. He was afraid he might appear intoxicated. But the more he walked, the easier it became. He was relieved when the salesperson didn’t confront him. Daniel wanted to avoid any conversation. He merely wanted to get out of the store.

By the time Daniel got to the door to the street, he was confident he was walking normally. He opened the door and stuck his head out into the sunny afternoon heat. A quick glance around the parking area convinced him that his muscular attacker had long since departed. He peeked through the window of the women’s store and caught a glimpse of Stephanie happily shopping. Confident she was okay, Daniel made a beeline for the Mercury Marquis.

Once inside the car, Daniel rolled down the windows to allow the breeze to siphon off the ovenlike heat that had developed during the short time he’d been in the store. He sighed; it felt good to be sitting down within the familiar surroundings of his rent-a-car. Bending the rearview mirror in his direction, he examined himself more closely. He was particularly worried about his right eye, which was now practically shut. Still, he could tell the cornea was clear and there was no blood in the anterior chamber, although there were some petechial hemorrhages on the sclera. Having spent time in the emergency room as a medical resident, he knew something about facial trauma-in particular, a problem called a blowout fracture of the orbit. To make sure that hadn’t happened, he checked to see if he saw double, especially when he looked up and down. Thankfully, he didn’t. So he repositioned the rearview mirror and sat back to wait for Stephanie.

About a quarter of an hour later, Stephanie emerged from the women’s clothing store with several shopping bags in tow. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she looked in Daniel’s direction. Daniel responded by sticking his hand out his open window and waving. She waved back and came running. He watched as she approached. Now that he’d had a few minutes to think about his assault and its probable origin, his mental state had changed from anxiety to anger, and a significant portion of it was directed at Stephanie and her screwed-up family. Although he’d not had his knees smashed, the modus operandi smelled suspiciously Mob-related, which immediately brought to mind Stephanie’s indicted brother. Who the Castiglianos were he had no idea, but he was going to find out.

Stephanie came first to the passenger-side back door, opened it, and tossed her bundles onto the backseat. “How’d you make out?” she questioned happily. “I have to say, I did better than I expected.” She slammed the back door and proceeded to get into the front while babbling about her purchases. She closed her door and grabbed her seat belt before she looked at Daniel. When she did, she stopped her ramblings in midsentence. “My God! What happened to your eye?” she blurted.

“It’s good of you to notice,” Daniel said scornfully. “Obviously, I got beat up. But before we get into the distasteful details, I have a question to ask. Who are the Castigliano brothers?”

Stephanie stared at Daniel, taking in not only the puffy eye, but also the red swelling on the side of his face and the crusted blood along the edges of his nostrils. She wanted to reach out and touch him empathically, but she held back. She could see the anger reflected in the one visible eye and heard it in his tone of voice. Besides, the Castigliano name and the significance it engendered momentarily paralyzed her. She looked down at her hands, limp in her lap.

“Is there some other little important tidbit you didn’t feel like talking to me about?” Daniel continued, with equal sarcasm. “I mean, in addition to your brother being indicted for racketeering after becoming an investor. I repeat, who the hell are the Castiglianos?”

Stephanie’s mind was racing. It was true that she’d not shared the news that her brother had farmed out half of his investment. She had no excuse for not being more forthcoming, especially since the news had disturbed her, and this second and related lapse made her feel like a thief caught twice in the same felonious act.

“I was hoping we could at least have a conversation,” Daniel said, when Stephanie didn’t respond.

“We can, and we will,” Stephanie said suddenly. She looked at Daniel. She’d never felt quite so guilty in her life. He’d been hurt, and she had to accept that a significant amount of the responsibility was hers. “But first, tell me if you are okay.”

“As well as can be expected, under the circumstances.” Daniel started the car and backed out of the parking place.

“Should we go to a hospital or see a doctor?” Stephanie asked.

“No! There’s no need. I’m going to live.”

“What about the police?”

“An even more emphatic no! Going to the police, who might actually investigate, would risk derailing our plans to treat Butler.” Daniel drove to the parking area exit.

“Maybe this is another omen about this whole affair. Are you sure you don’t want to give up on this Faustian quest?”

Daniel flashed Stephanie an angry, scornful look. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing. Absolutely not! I’m not about to roll over and give up everything we’ve worked for because a couple of lowlifes send down their Neanderthal henchman to give me a message.”

“He talked with you?”

“In between blows.”

“What exactly was the message?”

“To quote the muscleman, I’m supposed to ‘get my ass back to Boston and get the company back on track.’ ” Daniel pulled out into the road and accelerated. “Some of our stockholders, having learned we’re in Nassau, believe we’re on vacation down here.”

“Are we going back to the hotel?”

“Seeing as I’ve lost my enthusiasm for shopping, I want to get some ice on this eye of mine.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t go to a doctor? Your eye looks pretty bad.”

“It will probably come as a surprise if I remind you that I’m a doctor myself.”

“I’m talking about a real, practicing doctor.”

“Very funny, but excuse me if I don’t laugh!”

They drove in silence the short distance back to the hotel. Daniel parked the car in the parking lot. They got out. Stephanie collected her parcels from the backseat. She didn’t quite know what to say.

“The Castigliano brothers are acquaintances of my brother, Tony,” Stephanie finally admitted, as they walked toward their building.

“How come I’m not surprised?”

“Other than that, I don’t know them, nor have I ever met them.”

They keyed open the door to their suite. Stephanie tossed her shopping bags to the side. As guilty as she felt, she didn’t know how to handle Daniel’s rightful anger. “Why don’t you go in and sit down,” she offered solicitously. “I’ll get the ice.”

Daniel stretched out on the couch in the sitting room but quickly sat upright again. Lying down made his head throb. Stephanie came in with a towel, which she wrapped around a handful of ice cubes she got from the ice bucket on the counter over the minibar. She handed a makeshift ice pack to Daniel, who gingerly placed it against his swollen eye.

“How about some ibuprofen?” Stephanie asked.

Daniel nodded, and Stephanie got several tablets, along with a glass of water.

While Daniel took the pain reliever, Stephanie sat on the couch and tucked her feet underneath herself. She then told Daniel the details of her conversation with Tony the afternoon of the day they left for Turin. She concluded by abjectly apologizing for not having mentioned it. She explained that with everything else that was happening at the time, it seemed to be of minor importance. “I was going to tell you when we got back from Nassau and when the second-round financing came through, because I want to treat the two hundred thousand from my brother as a loan and return it with interest. I don’t want him or any of his associates involved with CURE in the future.”

“Well, at least we agree on something.”

“Are you going to accept my apology?”

“I suppose,” Daniel said, without a lot of enthusiasm. “So, your brother warned you about coming here?”

“He did,” Stephanie admitted, “because I couldn’t tell him why. But it was just a generic warning, and certainly without threats. I have to say, it’s still hard for me to believe he’s involved with your assault.”

“Oh, really?” Daniel said sarcastically. “Start believing it, because he has to have been involved! I mean, other than your brother telling these Castiglianos, how would they know we are here in Nassau? It can’t be a coincidence this thug appeared here the day after we arrived. Obviously, after you called your mom last evening, she called your brother, and he called his pals. And I don’t suppose I have to remind you how mad you got when I brought up the issue of possible violence when dealing with people involved in racketeering?”

Stephanie blushed at the recollection. It was true; she’d been furious. With sudden determination, she reached for her cell phone, flipped it open, and began dialing. Daniel grabbed her arm. “Who are you calling?”

“My brother,” Stephanie said hotly. She sat back with the phone against her ear. Her lips were pressed together in angered determination.

Daniel leaned toward Stephanie and took the phone. Despite Stephanie’s flash of anger and apparent resolve, she didn’t offer any resistance. Daniel closed the phone and tossed it onto the coffee table. “At the moment, calling your brother is the last thing we should do.” He sat back upright, keeping the ice pack pressed against his eye.

“But I want to confront him. If he was truly involved, I’m not going to let him get away with it. I feel betrayed by my own family.”

“You’re angry?”

“Of course I’m angry,” Stephanie retorted.

“So am I,” Daniel snapped. “But I’m the one who got beat up, not you.”

She lowered her eyes. “You’re right. You’re the one who deserves to be a lot more upset than I.”

“I need to ask you a question,” Daniel said. He adjusted his ice pack. “An hour or so ago, you said you’d been thinking about possibly going home to appease your conscience about working with the likes of Paul Saunders and Spencer Wingate. With this new development, I have to know now if you intend to or not.”

Stephanie glanced back up at Daniel. She shook her head and gave a short, embarrassed laugh. “After what’s happened, and as guilty as I feel about it, there’s no way I could leave.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Daniel commented. “Maybe there’s good in everything, even getting beaten to a pulp.”

“I really am sorry you were hurt,” Stephanie said. “I truly am. More than you know.”

“All right, all right,” Daniel repeated. He gave Stephanie’s knee a reassuring squeeze. “Now that I know you are staying, here’s what I think we should do. I think we should pretend this little episode of me being pummeled never happened, meaning no nasty calls to your brother or even your mother, for that matter. Future calls to your mother will emphasize that you and I are not vacationing here but rather hard at work on a job to save CURE. Tell her it’s going to take three weeks and then we’ll be home.”

“What about this hooligan who attacked you? Don’t we have to worry about him coming back?”

“That’s a concern but apparently a risk we have to take. He’s not from the Bahamas, and my educated guess is that he’s already on his way home. He said that if he had to fly the hell back down here from Boston again, he’d, and I quote, hurt me bad, which leads me to believe that New England is his usual hangout. At the same time, he said he didn’t want to hurt me so bad that I couldn’t get the company back on its feet, meaning they have a vested interest in my well-being, despite how I feel at the moment. But most importantly, I’m hoping your phone conversations with your mother, which will undoubtedly get communicated to your brother, will convince the Castiglianos it’s worth waiting three weeks.”

“Should we change hotels, since I told my mother we’re staying here?”

“I thought about that while I was sitting in the car, waiting for you to come out of the store. I even thought about taking Paul up on his offer to stay out at the Wingate Clinic.”

“Oh, God! That would be like going from the frying pan into the fire.”

“I wouldn’t want to stay there either. It’s going to be bad enough putting up with those charlatans during the day. So I think we should just stay here, unless it’s going to drive you crazy. I don’t want a repeat of our night in Turin. My feeling is that we should stay put but not leave the hotel, except to go to the Wingate Clinic, which, starting tomorrow, is where we are going to be most of the time anyway. Agreed?”

Stephanie nodded a few times as she absorbed everything Daniel had said.

“Do you agree or what?” Daniel asked. “You’re not saying anything.”

Stephanie suddenly threw up her hands in a burst of emotional frustration. “Gosh, I don’t know what to think. You getting attacked just adds to my uneasiness about this whole Butler affair. From day one, we’ve been forced to make assumptions about people we know little or nothing about.”

“Wait just a second!” Daniel growled. His face, already red, got redder still, and his voice, which had started out low, began to rise progressively. “We’re not starting the debate again about whether or not we’re going to treat Butler. That’s been decided. Our current conversation is about logistics from this point on, period!”

“Okay, okay!” Stephanie said. She reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Calm down! Fine! We’ll stay here and hope things work out for the best.”

Daniel took a few deep breaths before saying, “I also think we should make it a point to stay together.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t think it was an accident the muscleman assaulted me when I happened to be alone. Your brother obviously doesn’t want you hurt; otherwise, we both would have been slapped around, or at a minimum, I still would have borne the brunt, but you would have had to witness it. I think the man waited until I was by myself; ergo, I believe our staying together at all times away from our room would provide a certain amount of safety.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Stephanie mumbled equivocally. Her mind was a jumble. On the one hand, she was relieved that Daniel wasn’t making a negative reference to their relationship when he mentioned staying together, while on the other hand, it was still hard for her to admit to herself that her brother could have had anything to do with the violence Daniel had experienced.

“Can you get me some more ice?” Daniel asked. “What I’ve got is just about melted.”

“Of course,” Stephanie said. She was relieved to have something to do. She took the soggy towel and exchanged it for a fresh one in the bathroom. Then she revisited the ice bucket on the bar. When she handed the fresh ice pack to Daniel, the phone on the side table suddenly sprang to life. For a few moments, its repetitive jangle inundated the otherwise silent room. Neither Daniel nor Stephanie moved. Both stared at the phone.

“Now, who the hell could that be?” Daniel questioned, after the fourth ring. He positioned the ice pack on his eye.

“Not very many people know we are here,” Stephanie said. “Should I answer it?”

“I suppose,” Daniel said. “If it is your mother or brother, remember what I said earlier.”

“What if it’s the person who attacked you?”

“That’s highly unlikely. Answer it, but be nonchalant! If it is the thug, just hang up. Don’t try to engage him in any conversation.”

Stephanie went to the phone, picked it up, and tried to say hello normally while looking back at Daniel. Daniel watched her eyebrows raise slightly as she listened. After a few moments, Daniel mouthed, “Who is it?” Stephanie held up her hand and motioned for him to wait. Finally, she said, “Wonderful! And thank you.” Then she listened again. Absently, she twirled the phone cord with her finger. After a pause, she said, “That’s very nice of you, but it’s not possible tonight. In fact, it’s not possible any night.” She then said goodbye in a clipped tone and replaced the receiver. She returned her eyes to Daniel’s but for a moment didn’t speak.

“Well? Who was it?” Daniel demanded. His curiosity was getting the best of him.

“It was Spencer Wingate.” Stephanie shook her head in amazement.

“What did he want?”

“He wanted to let us know that he located our FedEx package, and he’s arranged to have it delivered first thing in the morning.”

“Hooray for small favors. That means we can start creating Butler’s treatment cells. But that was a rather long conversation for such a short message. What else did he want?”

Stephanie gave a mirthless laugh. “He wanted to know if I would come to his house in Lyford Cay Marina for dinner. Strangely enough, he made it clear that the invitation was just for me and not for us as a couple. I can’t believe it. It was like he was trying to hustle me.”

“Well, let’s look on the bright side; at least he has good taste.”

“I’m not amused,” Stephanie countered.

“I can see that,” Daniel said. “But let’s keep the big picture in mind.”