Silent Treatment

Chapter33

By nightfall the three-day heat wave hadyielded to a pleasant summer rain. Harry left the apartment at ten-thirty andtook a cab to the East Side. As instructed, he was wearing a baseball-style cap- the only one he could find in the apartment. It was Evie's from herWashington days, navy blue with U.S. Senate in gold just above the brim.After reading the introduction to Desiree's book, Between the Sheets, hecouldn't help but wonder if the cap was a trophy.

Harry had been loudly rebuked by OwenErdman for breaking their agreement and putting up the posters. But as Santanahad predicted, he did not appear to be in danger of losing his staff privilegesso long as they were taken down promptly. Harry would do MMC. Santana and theman he had hired to help cover every hospital in the city would take care ofthe six others they had done so far.

When they had left Harry's apartment,there was still a good deal of tension lingering between the two of them. Harryfelt he could no longer trust Ray Santana to act in anyone's interest but hisown. To his credit, Santana did not dispute that point. But he maintained thatany sacrifice, by anyone, that resulted in The Doctor's death would have beenworth it.

They briefly considered bringing AlbertDickinson up to speed on the developments in the case. But neither of them werein favor of doing that. The chances of getting anything helpful from him weresignificantly lower than the chances of his causing more trouble for them.Perchek was arrogant and fearless, but he was not foolish. Dickinson would morethan likely end up driving him underground — perhaps the worst thing that couldhappen. Since it was still not at all clear what The Doctor was doing inManhattan or how he came to kill Evie, there was no way of predicting how longhe would stick around.

While Harry and Santana were off to teardown posters, Maura stayed at the apartment to screen phone calls. There was asteady flow of them now at about two or three an hour. Most of the calls wereclearly cranks. But some sounded interesting. Maura dutifully logged each oneand promised to get back to the caller.

With fifteen minutes to go before he wasto meet Kevin Loomis, Harry paid the cabby off at Park and Fifty-first andwalked the remaining blocks. Although he wasn't particularly worried aboutbeing followed, he had not forgotten his experience in Desiree's apartment. Hecut down to Forty-ninth and back, pausing in several doorways to survey thestreet. Nothing. It was a garbage collection night, and the light raindid little to wash away the stench from the mountains of plastic bags awaitingpickup. It had been a while since the last protracted garbage strike inManhattan. On summer nights like this, he could understand why they seldom wentunresolved for very long.

Traffic was light, and the intersection ofFifty-first and Third was nearly deserted. With Evie's U.S. Senate cap pulledlow over his eyes, Harry leaned against a light post and waited. At exactly11:05, a Yellow cab pulled up. The front passenger door swung open.

'Get in, Doctor,' the driver said, hisvoice like number thirty-six sandpaper.

'You Loomis?' Harry asked as the cabpulled away and headed uptown.

'Nope.' The driver said nothing more untilthey neared Fifth Avenue at Fifty-seventy. 'As soon as I'm across Fifth, jumpout and hurry up to the corner of Sixtieth. You'll be picked up there. I'vealready been paid, so just get out quickly and go.'

He slowed until the light was just aboutto turn red, then spurted across the intersection just ahead of the oncomingFifth Avenue traffic. The maneuver drew an angry volley of horn blasts, but ensuredthat no car could make it through behind them. Harry hurried up Fifty toSixtieth. As soon as he reached the corner, a black Lexus rolled up. The dooropened and Harry jumped in while the car was still moving. The driver, agood-looking man about forty, swung on to Central Park South and accelerated.

'Kevin Loomis,' he said. 'Sorry for thecloak-and-dagger stuff. I'm not even sure it'll do any good. Stallings and Itook every precaution we could think of when we went to meet at Battery Park,but somehow they still managed to follow one or both of us. Stallings was onthe way back to his office from our meeting when he had his cardiac arrest.'

'Who are they?' Harry asked.

'They are the people I think areresponsible for killing your wife. That's why I decided to see you tonight.They're health insurance people. They call themselves The Roundtable.'

'You mean like the Million DollarRoundtable?'

'More like the Hundred Million DollarRoundtable. . I'm part of it.'

They turned on to the West Side Highwayand headed uptown. Harry listened in near disbelief as Kevin Loomis describedthe secret society and his recent involvement with it. Harry liked the manimmediately — the hard edge to his speech, the street-smart toughnessunderlying the newly acquired executive's manners. If The Roundtable was aselite and exclusive as Loomis depicted, it was a bit difficult to imagine himbelonging.

As he listened, there were two things thatstruck Harry almost from the beginning. The first was the secrecy and mistrust — and how little Loomis had been allowed to know about the other knights. Itsounded more like a covert government operation than an old-boys club. Thesecond was something about the man, himself. Clearly Loomis was saddened bywhat had happened — to Evie and to James Stallings. But while hecertainly wasn't flip or glib, neither did he seem that distraught or desperate- or even frightened. He sounded much calmer tonight than when they first spokeon the phone. Calm and detached.

'As far as your wife goes,' Loomis said,'I'm just guessing at what might have happened. I'm assuming you had nothing todo with her death.'

'Our marriage was on the rocks, just likethe newspapers said. But I would never have harmed her.'

'The people on The Roundtable are terriblyparanoid. They were worried that Desiree was investigating them.'

'She wasn't,' Harry said. 'She was writinga book and preparing a tabloid TV report on the power of sex in business andpolitics.' He reviewed the night he had spent in Desiree's apartment, omittingany mention of The Doctor. 'Her involvement with your group was primarilyresearch,' he concluded. 'She probably went through your wallets when she hadthe chance. She figured out you were in the insurance business, but that wasall she knew. I don't think she had the faintest notion what you were meetingfor.'

'Well, apparently The Roundtable didn'tbuy that. I was there for the discussion, and there was not even a hint thatthey planned to track her down and kill her. But now I'm sure they did. I haveno idea who actually injected her with that chemical. I would imagine it's thesame guy who carries out the terminations of policy-holders who cost ourcompany too much money. Hell, for all I know, there may even be more than oneof them.'

Harry decided to wait until he knew a bitmore about Loomis and his motives before sharing the news of Anton Perchek.They entered the Bronx on the Henry Hudson Parkway and continued driving awayfrom Manhattan, toward Van Cortland Park. Harry remained uneasy about Loomis'saffect, and wondered if the man was lying or perhaps holding something back.

'Kevin,' he said, 'why have you decided totell me all this? I mean, you're part of it. If The Roundtable is destroyed,there's a good chance you'll suffer, too.'

'There are a few reasons, actually. I'veread a lot about you, and I don't like what they're doing to you — they'redestroying your life. You won a medal for getting shot up in Nam. I was tooyoung to fight, but my older brother Michael lost a leg there. Also, the wholething's getting to be too much for me. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm no angel.Far from it. I could do most of what The Roundtable wanted and not bat an eye.But I draw the line at killing people, no matter how sick they are or how muchthey're going to cost us. I intend to turn state's evidence and make some sortof deal with the DA's office — that is, if I ever get my hands on anyevidence.'

'What do you mean?'

'There's nothing on paper. Nothing at all.Stallings was the only one who might have backed me up. I'll go ahead anyway — tell the same story I just told you and name what names I can. But I suspectthe lawyers for the other knights will cut me to shreds.'

'Maybe not. You know, all along I've had atheory about why whoever killed Evie seemed to be going out of their way notto harm me. I figured it was because I was the perfect fall guy — why get rid of me? Now I realize I've probably been right. With every signpointing to me, you and Stallings weren't likely to challenge The Roundtable.'

'Exactly. You said your wife's killer hasbeen trying to get you to kill yourself. That would have been the clincher. Idon't know about Stallings, but I would have immediately stopped suspecting TheRoundtable.'

Harry turned to Loomis.

'What you're doing takes a lot of guts,'he said. 'When you do go to the authorities, I'll be right there with you, ifthat's any comfort.'

'Thanks. But from what I've read in thepapers, I'm not sure that would be a plus. The cops really hate you.'

Harry smiled.

'Touche. Kevin, listen. I'm thinking aboutsomething pretty far-out that might help us. Could you go over the criteria youremember from that sheet Stallings gave you?'

'I can do better than that.'

He handed over the printout of Merlin'sprogram — the criteria that had cost Beth DeSenza her job. Then he looped on tothe Mosholu Parkway, heading back toward the Major Deegan Expressway and thecity.

'How many companies are involved?' Harryasked.

'Probably five — that's not counting mycompany or Stallings's. I know two of them for sure — ComprehensiveNeighborhood Health and Northeast Life and Casualty. What companies the otherthree represent, I don't know yet, although I might be able to find out if Ireally work at it.'

'Don't do anything to ruffle anyone'sfeathers. These guys clearly don't have much patience with people who upsetthem.' Harry studied the criteria. 'The lowest projected cost to qualify fortermination was — what again? Half a million?'

'Exactly.'

Harry rolled up the printout and tapped itagainst his fist. His idea was beginning to take shape.

'Kevin, I really appreciate that you'vecome to me before going to the DA,' he said. 'Now I've got something to show you.'

He handed over a folded copy of theposter. Kevin glanced at it, then pulled off into the breakdown lane and turnedon the interior light.

'Never saw him before,' he said after halfa minute.

'He's the man who killed Evie. We haveproof. I saw him outside her room just before the injection. Her roommate sawhim in the room. And he left a fingerprint that was identified by theFBI lab. His name's Anton Perchek. He's a doctor, Kevin. An M.D. He's known allover the world as a master of torture, and for keeping victims alive andawake during torture. He was supposed to have died in a helicopter accidentescaping from prison six years ago.'

'And you think he's involved with TheRoundtable?'

'I do. I think he's the one who carriesout these. . these terminations.'

Kevin handed back the poster and swung thecar on to the highway. For a time they rode in silence.

'You've got to nail that guy,' Kevin said.

You've got to? Harry looked at him curiously,but didn't comment. Kevin's eyes remained fixed on the road.

'I have a thought,' Harry said. 'You saidtwo of the companies involved were Comprehensive Neighborhood Health andNortheast Life and Casualty. I don't have many patients with Comprehensive, butI do have quite a few covered by Northeast Life. Suppose I admitted one to myhospital and made up a diagnosis that would qualify him for termination underthis protocol?'

'Could you do that?'

'I think so. The real question is whetheryour knight from Northeast Casualty would bite. What's his name?'

'Pat Harper. He's Lancelot, the one whomade Stallings the offer to join the inner circle.'

'So if anyone's actively involved in thisthing, it would be him. That's good.'

'But you're suggesting taking a patientand deliberately exposing him to this Anton Perchek? Who would do such athing?'

'Actually,' Harry said, 'I have someone inmind who would be happy to. Only he's not exactly a patient of mine. Could youtake me to my office? It's on 116th near Fifth.'

'Sure. I knew it was right to contactyou.'

Once again, Loomis's words and the way hespoke them made Harry feel uneasy. Not once had he talked about the implicationsfor him and his family of what he was doing. In fact, not once had he spoken ofhis family at all. He had chosen to contact Harry before going to the DA. Why? You'vegot to nail that guy. Why not we?

Suddenly Harry knew. What had beentroubling him so about the man was that he sounded detached, as if the eventshe described had happened to someone else entirely. He had chosen to speak withHarry before seeking out the DA because he never had any intention of going tothe authorities. In fact, he had no intention of seeing this thing through. Allat once a good deal about this strange ride made sense. Loomis's calmness. Hislack of fear. Loomis was an insurance executive. Harry suspected that his deathwould leave his family well provided for,

'You okay?' Harry asked as they approachedthe lights of the city.

'Huh? Oh, sure. I'm still worried aboutwhat's going to happen. But I feel much more hopeful after talking to you.'

'Good. We can put an end to TheRoundtable, you know.'

'I know.'

The sadness in his voice was unmistakablenow.

'Kevin, you said you knew about me and thewar.'

'What I read in the papers.'

'The platoon I was with was ambushed. Wewere caught in a vicious firefight, with mortar shells dropping on us from anearby hill. Most of our kids were killed or badly hurt. I managed to dragthree of them to the medevac chopper. That's what I got the decoration for — asif I even knew what I was doing at that point. Then a shell exploded rightbehind me. I think it hit a mine, because it seemed like half the jungle blewup. I have no idea who dragged me out of there. It was about a week before Iwoke up. They had taken what metal and other debris they could out of my back,along with part of one kidney. I spent several months in a rehab hospital. Thepain was wicked, and for a long time I thought I might not walk.'

'But you did.'

'That's sort of the point. About threemonths into my rehab, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I snuck off in mywheelchair with a revolver tucked under the sheet. For half an hour — oh hell,I really don't even know how long — I sat in the woods with this gun in mymouth and my finger on the trigger.'

'Why didn't you pull it?'

Harry shrugged.

'I guess I just decided it wasn't my job.'

They had crossed the river into the citynow, and were heading toward Harry's office.

'Good for you.'

'Hopeless is a relative term, Kevin. JamesStallings is pretty much hopeless. You aren't. Think about that, will you?'

For a moment it seemed Kevin was about tosay something, but instead he just nodded and focused on the road. Harry felthe had gone as far as he could in counseling a man he did not know. At least hehad made his point. They rode in silence until Loomis pulled up at Harry'soffice.

'Is there anything else I should know beforeI go about creating a worm for Sir Lancelot to bite on?'

'Just follow the protocol,' Loomis said.'I wish you luck;

Harry stepped out on to the street. Therain had stopped, but the humidity was still close to 100 percent.

'I'd like about a week before you go tothe DA,' he said. 'If we're going to pull this off, publicity would reallyhurt.'

'No problem. I'll check with you first,anyway.'

'Thanks. And Kevin?'

'Yes?'

'Do everyone a favor and see this onethrough.'

Loomis looked at him without making eyecontact.

'Yeah, sure,' he said. 'Thanks.'

It was the middle of the night beforeHarry found what he was looking for — a male patient, age thirty-five tofifty-five, whose insurance carrier was Northeast Life and Casualty. MaxGarabedian, a forty-eight-year-old school custodian. Garabedian, who wascompulsive about his work and his body, was something of a hypochondriac. Butin the main, he was healthy. And that was what Harry needed to know. There wasonly one way his scheme could work, and countless ways in which it could gohaywire. But barring a freak accident, having Max Garabedian show up in somehospital when he was already an inpatient at MMC would not be one of them.

Harry considered calling Garabedian toexplain what he was about to do. But if the man agreed, he would be open tocharges of insurance fraud. No, he decided. Max Garabedian would have tobe hospitalized for treatment of his expensive, potentially fatal illnesswithout his knowledge. Harry copied down all the pertinent data the hospitaladmitting office would need to know.

Now there were only two problems: comingup with an appropriately dire condition, and convincing Ray Santana to becomethe bait.