{"id":3058,"date":"2026-01-03T23:03:06","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T23:03:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/chromosome-6-cook-robin\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T23:03:06","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T23:03:06","slug":"chromosome-6-cook-robin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/chromosome-6-cook-robin\/","title":{"rendered":"Chromosome 6 – Cook, Robin"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Book Preview<\/h3>\n
\n

\nChromosome 6<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n============<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRobin Cook<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n==========<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTable of Contents<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n—————–<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Prologue<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 1<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 2<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 3<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 4<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 5<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 6<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 7<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 8<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 9<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 10<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 11<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 12<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 13<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 14<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 15<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 16<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 17<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 18<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 19<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 20<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 21<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 22<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Chapter 23<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Epilogue<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>– Glossary<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nPROLOGUE<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n——–<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMARCH 3, 1997<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n3:30 P.M.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCOGO, EQUATORIAL GUINEA<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nGIVEN a Ph.D. in molecular biology from MIT that had been earned in<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nclose cooperation with the Massachusetts General Hospital, Kevin<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMarshall found his squeamishness regarding medical procedures a distinct<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nembarrassment. Although he’d never admitted it to anyone, just having a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nblood test or a vaccination was an ordeal for him. Needles were his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nspecific bete noire. The sight of them caused his legs to go rubbery and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\na cold sweat to break out on his broad forehead. Once he’d even fainted<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nin college after getting a measles shot.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAt age thirty-four, after many years of postgraduate biomedical<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nresearch, some of it involving live animals, he’d expected to outgrow<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhis phobia, but it hadn’t happened. And it was for that reason he was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnot in operating room 1A or 1B at the moment. Instead he’d chosen to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nremain in the intervening scrub room, where he was leaning against the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nscrub sink, a vantage that allowed him to look through angled windows<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ninto both OR’s–until he felt the need to avert his eyes.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe two patients had been in their respective rooms for about a quarter<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhour in preparation for their respective procedures. The two surgical<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nteams were quietly conversing while standing off to the side. They were<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngowned and gloved and ready to commence.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThere’d been little technical conversation in the OR’s except between<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe anesthesiologist and the two anesthetists as the patients were<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ninducted under general anesthesia. The lone anesthesiologist had slipped<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nback and forth between the two rooms to supervise and to be available at<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nany sign of trouble.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nBut there was no trouble. At least not yet. Nonetheless, Kevin felt<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nanxious. To his surprise he did not experience the same sense of triumph<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhe had enjoyed during three previous comparable procedures when he’d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nexalted in the power of science and his own creativity.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nInstead of jubilation Kevin felt a mushrooming unease. His discomfort<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhad started almost a week previously, but it was now, watching these<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npatients and contemplating their different prognoses, that Kevin felt<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe disquietude with disturbing poignancy. The effect was similar to his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthinking about needles: perspiration appeared on his forehead and his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlegs trembled. He had to grasp the edge of the scrub sink to steady<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhimself.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe door to operating room 1A opened suddenly, startling Kevin. He was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nconfronted by a figure whose pale blue eyes were framed by a hood and a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nface mask. Recognition was rapid: It was Candace Brickmann, one of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsurgical nurses.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘The IV’s are all started, and the patients are asleep,’ Candace said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Are you sure you don’t want to come in? You’ll be able to see much<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbetter.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Thank you, but I’m fine right here,’ Kevin said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Suit yourself,’ Candace said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe door swung shut behind Candace as she returned to one of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsurgeries. Kevin watched her scurry across the room and say something to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe surgeons. Their response was to turn in Kevin’s direction and give<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhim a thumbs-up sign. Kevin self-consciously returned the gesture.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe surgeons went back to their conversation, but the effect of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwordless communication with Kevin magnified his sense of complicity. He<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlet go of the scrub sink and took a step backward. His unease was now<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntinged with fear. What had he done?<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSpinning on his heels, Kevin fled from the scrub room and then from the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\noperating suite. A puff of air followed him as he left the mildly<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npositive pressure aseptic OR area and entered his gleaming, futuristic<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlaboratory. He was breathing heavily as if out of breath from exertion.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nOn any other day, merely walking into his domain would have filled him<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwith anticipation just at the thought of the discoveries awaiting his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmagic hand. The series of rooms literally bristled with hi-tech<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nequipment the likes of which used to be the focus of his fantasies. Now<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthese sophisticated machines were at his beck and call, day and night.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAbsently he ran his fingers lightly along the stainless-steel cowlings,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncasually brushing the analogue dials and digital displays as he headed<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfor his office. He touched the hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar DNA<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsequencer and the five-hundred-thousand-dollar globular NMR machine that<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsprouted a tangle of wires like a giant sea anemone. He glanced at the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nPCR’s, whose red lights blinked like distant quasars announcing<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsuccessive DNA-strand doublings. It was an environment that had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npreviously filled Kevin with hope and promise. But now each Eppendorf<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmicrocentrifuge tube and each tissue-culture flask stood as mute<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nreminders of the building foreboding he was experiencing.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAdvancing to his desk, Kevin looked down at his gene map of the short<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\narm of chromosome 6. His area of principal interest was outlined in red.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIt was the major histocompatibility complex. The problem was that the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMHC was only a small portion of the short arm of chromosome 6. There<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwere large blank areas that represented millions and millions of base<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npairs, and hence hundreds of other genes. Kevin did not know what they<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndid.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nA recent request for information concerning these genes that he’d put<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nout over the Internet had resulted in some vague replies. Several<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nresearchers had responded that the short arm of chromosome 6 contained<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngenes that were involved with muscular-skeletal development. But that<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas it. There were no details.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin shuddered involuntarily. He raised his eyes to the large picture<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwindow above his desk. As usual it was streaked with moisture from the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntropical rain that swept across the view in undulating sheets. The<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndroplets slowly descended until enough had fused to reach a critical<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmass. Then they raced off the surface like sparks from a grinding wheel.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin’s eyes focused into the distance. The contrast between the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngleaming, air-conditioned interior with the outside world was always a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nshock. Roiling, gun-metal gray clouds filled the sky despite the fact<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthat the dry season was supposed to have begun three weeks previously.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe land was dominated by riotous vegetation that was so dark green as<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nto almost appear black. Along the edge of the town it rose up like a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngigantic, threatening tidal wave.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin’s office was in the hospital-laboratory complex that was one of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe few new structures in the previously decaying and deserted Spanish<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncolonial town of Cogo in the little-known African country of Equatorial<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nGuinea. The building was three stories tall. Kevin’s office was on the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntop floor, facing southeast. From his window he could see a good portion<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nof the town as it sprawled haphazardly toward the Estuario del Muni and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nits contributory rivers.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSome of the neighboring buildings had been renovated, some were in the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nprocess, but most had not been touched. A half dozen previously handsome<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhaciendas were enveloped by vines and roots of vegetation that had gone<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwild. Over the whole scene hung the perennial mist of super-saturated<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwarm air.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIn the immediate foreground Kevin could see beneath the arched arcade of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe old town hall. In the shadows were the inevitable handful of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEquatoguinean soldiers in combat fatigues with AK-47’s haphazardly slung<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nover their shoulders. As usual they were smoking, arguing, and consuming<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCameroonean beer.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFinally Kevin let his eyes wander beyond the town. He’d been<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nunconsciously avoiding doing so, but now he focused on the estuary whose<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrain-lashed surface looked like beaten tin. Directly south he could just<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmake out the forested shoreline of Gabon. Looking to the east he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfollowed the trail of islands that stretched toward the interior of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncontinent. On the horizon he could see the largest of the islands, Isla<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFrancesca, named by the Portuguese in the fifteenth century. In contrast<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nto the other islands, Isla Francesca had a jungle-covered limestone<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nescarpment that ran down its center like the backbone of a dinosaur.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin’s heart skipped a beat. Despite the rain and the mist, he could<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsee what he’d feared he’d see. Just like a week ago there was the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nunmistakable wisp of smoke lazily undulating toward the leaden sky.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin slumped into his desk chair and cradled his head in his hands. He<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nasked himself what he’d done. Having minored in the Classics as an<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nundergraduate, he knew about Greek myths. Now he questioned if he’d made<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\na Promethean mistake. Smoke meant fire, and he had to wonder if it was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe proverbial fire inadvertently stolen from the gods.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n6:45 P.M.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nBOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nWhile a cold March wind rattled the storm windows, Taylor Devonshire<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCabot reveled in the security and warmth of his walnut-paneled study in<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhis sprawling Manchester-by-the-Sea home north of Boston, Massachusetts.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHarriette Livingston Cabot, Taylor’s wife, was in the kitchen<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsupervising the final stages of dinner scheduled to be served at<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nseven-thirty sharp.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nOn the arm of Taylor’s chair balanced a cut-crystal glass of neat,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsingle-malt whiskey. A fire crackled in the fireplace as Wagner played<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\non the stereo, the volume turned low. In addition there were three,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbuilt-in televisions tuned respectively to a local news station, CNN,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nand ESPN.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTaylor was the picture of contentment. He’d spent a busy but productive<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nday at the world headquarters of GenSys, a relatively new biotechnology<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfirm he’d started eight years previously. The company had constructed a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnew building along the Charles River in Boston to take advantage of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nproximity of both Harvard and MIT for recruitment purposes.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe evening commute had been easier than usual, and Taylor hadn’t had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntime to finish his scheduled reading. Knowing his employer’s habits,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRodney, his driver, had apologized for getting Taylor home so quickly.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’m sure you’ll be able to come up with a significant delay tomorrow<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnight to make up,’ Taylor had quipped.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’ll do my best,’ Rodney had responded.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSo Taylor wasn’t listening to the stereo or watching the TVs. Instead he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas carefully reading the financial report scheduled to be released at<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe GenSys stockholders’ meeting scheduled the following week. But that<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndidn’t mean he was unaware of what was going on around him. He was very<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmuch aware of the sound of the wind, the sputtering of the fire, the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmusic, and alert to the various reporters’ banters on the TVs. So when<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe name Carlo Franconi was mentioned, Taylor’s head snapped up.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe first thing Taylor did was lift the remote and turn up the sound of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe central television. It was the local news on the CBS affiliate. The<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nanchors were Jack Williams and Liz Walker. Jack Williams had mentioned<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe name Carlo Franconi, and was going on to say that the station had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nobtained a videotape of the killing of this known Mafia figure who had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsome association with Boston crime families.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘This tape is quite graphic,’ Jack warned. ‘Parental discretion is<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrecommended. You might remember that a few days ago we reported that the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nailing Franconi had disappeared after his indictment, and many had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfeared he’d jumped bail. But then he’d just reappeared yesterday with<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe news that he’d struck a deal with the New York City’s DA’s office to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nplea-bargain and enter the witness-protection program. However, this<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nevening while emerging from a favorite restaurant, the indicted<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nracketeer was fatally shot.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTaylor was transfixed as he watched an amateur video of an overweight<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nman emerge from a restaurant accompanied by several people who looked<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlike policemen. With a casual wave, the man acknowledged the crowd who’d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nassembled and then headed to an awaiting limousine. He assiduously<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nignored questions from any journalists angling to get close to him. Just<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nas he was bending to enter the car, Franconi’s body jerked, and he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstaggered backward with his hand clasping the base of his neck. As he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfell to his right, his body jerked again before hitting the ground. The<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmen who’d accompanied him had drawn their guns and were frantically<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nturning in all directions. The pursuing journalists had all hit the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndeck.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Whoa!’ Jack commented. ‘What a scene! Sort’a reminds me of the killing<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nof Lee Harvey Oswald. So much for police protection.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I wonder what effect this will have on future similar witnesses?’ Liz<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nasked.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Not good, I’m sure,’ Jack said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTaylor’s eyes immediately switched to CNN, which was at that moment<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nabout to show the same video. He watched the sequence again. It made him<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwince. At the end of the tape, CNN went live to a reporter outside the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nOffice of the Chief Medical Examiner for the City of New York.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘The question now is whether there were one or two assailants,’ the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nreporter said over the sound of the traffic on First Avenue. ‘It’s our<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nimpression that Franconi was shot twice. The police are understandably<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nchagrined over this episode and have refused to speculate or offer any<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ninformation whatsoever. We do know that an autopsy is scheduled for<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntomorrow morning, and we assume that ballistics will answer the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nquestion.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTaylor turned down the sound on the television, then picked up his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndrink. Walking to the window, he gazed out at the angry, dark sea.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFranconi’s death could mean trouble. He looked at his watch. It was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nalmost midnight in West Africa.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSnatching up the phone, Taylor called the operator at GenSys and told<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhim he wanted to speak with Kevin Marshall immediately.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nReplacing the receiver, Taylor returned his gaze out the window. He’d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnever felt completely comfortable about this project although<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfinancially it was looking very profitable. He wondered if he should<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstop it. The phone interrupted his thoughts.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nPicking the receiver back up, Taylor was told that Mr. Marshall was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\navailable. After some static Kevin’s sleepy voice crackled over the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nline.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Is this really Taylor Cabot?’ Kevin asked.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Do you remember a Carlo Franconi?’ Taylor demanded, ignoring Kevin’s<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nquestion.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Of course,’ Kevin said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘He’s been murdered this afternoon,’ Taylor said. ‘There’s an autopsy<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nscheduled for the morning in New York City. What I want to know is,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncould that be a problem?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThere was a moment of silence. Taylor was about to question whether the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nconnection had been broken when Kevin spoke up.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Yes, it could be a problem,’ Kevin said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Someone could figure out everything from an autopsy?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘It’s possible,’ Kevin said. ‘I wouldn’t say probable, but it is<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npossible.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I don’t like possible,’ Taylor said. He disconnected from Kevin and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncalled the operator back at GenSys. Taylor said he wanted to speak<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nimmediately to Dr. Raymond Lyons. He emphasized that it was an<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nemergency.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nNEW YORK CITY<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Excuse me,’ the waiter whispered. He’d approached Dr. Lyons from the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nleft side, having waited for a break in the conversation the doctor was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nengaged in with his young, blond assistant and current lover, Darlene<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nPoison. Between his gracefully graying hair and conservative apparel,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe good doctor looked like the quintessential, soap-opera physician. He<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas in his early fifties, tall, tanned, and enviably slender with<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrefined, patrician good looks.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’m sorry to intrude,’ the waiter continued. ‘But there is an emergency<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncall for you. Can I offer you our cordless phone or would you prefer to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nuse the phone in the hall?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond’s blue eyes darted back and forth between Darlene’s affable but<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbland face and the considerate waiter whose impeccable demeanor<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nreflected Aureole’s 26 service rating in Zagat’s restaurant guide.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond did not look happy.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Perhaps I should tell them you are not available,’ the waiter<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsuggested.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘No, I’ll take the cordless,’ Raymond said. He couldn’t imagine who<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncould be calling him on an emergency basis. Raymond had not been<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npracticing medicine since he’d lost his medical license after having<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbeen convicted of a major Medicare scam he’d been carrying on for a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndozen years.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Hello?’ Raymond said with a degree of trepidation.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘This is Taylor Cabot. There’s a problem.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond visibly stiffened and his brow furrowed.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTaylor quickly summarized the Carlo Franconi situation and his call to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin Marshall.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘This operation is your baby,’ Taylor concluded irritably. ‘And let me<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwarn you: it is small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. If there<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nis trouble, I’ll scrap the entire enterprise. I don’t want bad<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npublicity, so handle it.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘But what can I do?’ Raymond blurted out.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Frankly, I don’t know,’ Taylor said. ‘But you’d better think of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsomething, and you’d better do it fast.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Things couldn’t be going any better from my end,’ Raymond interjected.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Just today I made positive contact with a physician in L.A. who treats<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\na lot of movie stars and wealthy West Coast businessmen. She’s<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ninterested in setting up a branch in California.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Maybe you didn’t hear me,’ Taylor said. ‘There isn’t going to be a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbranch anyplace if this Franconi problem isn’t resolved. So you’d better<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nget busy. I’d say you have about twelve hours.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe resounding click of the disconnection made Raymond’s head jerk. He<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlooked at the phone as if it had been responsible for the precipitate<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntermination of the conversation. The waiter, who’d retreated to an<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nappropriate distance, stepped forward to retrieve the phone before<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndisappearing.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Trouble?’ Darlene questioned.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Oh, God!’ Raymond voiced. Nervously he chewed the quick of his thumb.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIt was more than trouble. It was potential disaster. With his attempts<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nat retrieving his medical license tied up in the quagmire of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\njudicial system, his current work situation was all he had, and things<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhad only recently been clicking. It had taken him five years to get<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwhere he was. He couldn’t let it all go down the drain.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘What is it?’ Darlene asked. She reached out and pulled Raymond’s hand<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\naway from his mouth.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond quickly explained about the upcoming autopsy on Carlo Franconi<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nand repeated Taylor Cabot’s threat to scrap the entire enterprise.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘But it’s finally making big money,’ Darlene said. ‘He won’t scrap it.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond gave a short, mirthless laugh. ‘It isn’t big money to someone<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlike Taylor Cabot and GenSys,’ he said. ‘He’d scrap it for certain.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHell, it was difficult to talk him into it in the first place.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Then you have to tell them not to do the autopsy,’ Darlene said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond stared at his companion. He knew she meant well, and he’d never<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbeen attracted to her for her brain power. So he resisted lashing out.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nBut his reply was sarcastic: ‘You think I can just call up the medical<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nexaminer’s office and tell them not to do an autopsy on such a case?<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nGive me a break!’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘But you know a lot of important people,’ Darlene persisted. ‘Ask them<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nto call.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Please, dear . . .’ Raymond said condescendingly, but then he paused.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHe began to think that unwittingly Darlene had a point. An idea began to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngerminate.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘What about Dr. Levitz?’ Darlene said. ‘He was Mr. Franconi’s doctor.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMaybe he could help.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I was just thinking the same thing,’ Raymond said. Dr. Daniel Levitz<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas a Park Avenue physician with a big office, high overhead, and a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndwindling patient base, thanks to managed care. He’d been easy to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrecruit and had been one of the first doctors to join the venture. On<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntop of that, he’d brought in many clients, some of them in the same<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbusiness as Carlo Franconi.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond stood up, extracted his wallet, and plopped three crisp<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\none-hundred-dollar bills on the table. He knew that was more than enough<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfor the tab and a generous tip. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ve got to make a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhouse call.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘But I haven’t finished my entree,’ Darlene complained.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond didn’t respond. Instead he whisked Darlene’s chair out from the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntable, forcing her to her feet. The more he thought about Dr. Levitz,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe more he thought the man could be the savior. As the personal<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nphysician of a number of competing New York crime families, Levitz knew<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npeople who could do the impossible.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCHAPTER 1<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n———<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMARCH 4, 1997<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n7:25 A.M.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nNEW YORK CITY<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJACK Stapleton bent over and put more muscle into his pedaling as he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsprinted the last block heading east along Thirtieth Street. About fifty<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nyards from First Avenue he sat up and coasted no-hands before beginning<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nto brake. The upcoming traffic light was not in his favor, and even Jack<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwasn’t crazy enough to sail out into the mix of cars, buses, and trucks<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nracing uptown.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe weather had warmed considerably and the five inches of slush that<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhad fallen two days previously was gone save for a few dirty piles<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbetween parked cars. Jack was pleased the roads were clear since he’d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnot been able to commute on his bike for several days. The bike was only<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthree weeks old. It was a replacement for one that had been stolen a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nyear previously.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nOriginally, Jack had planned on replacing the bike immediately. But he’d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nchanged his mind after a terrifyingly close encounter with death made<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhim temporarily conservative about risk. The episode had nothing to do<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwith bike riding in the city, but nonetheless it scared him enough to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nacknowledge that his riding style had been deliberately reckless.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nBut time dimmed Jack’s fears. The final prod came when he lost his watch<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nand wallet in a subway mugging. A day later, Jack bought himself a new<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCannondale mountain bike, and as far as his friends were concerned, he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas up to his old tricks. In reality, he was no longer tempting fate by<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsqueezing between speeding delivery vans and parked cars; he no longer<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nslalomed down Second Avenue; and for the most part he stayed out of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCentral Park after dark.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack came to a stop at the corner to wait for the light, and as his foot<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntouched down on the pavement he surveyed the scene. Almost at once he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbecame aware of a bevy of TV vans with extended antennae parked on the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\neast side of First Avenue in front of his destination: the Office of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nChief Medical Examiner for the City of New York, or what some people<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncalled simply, the morgue.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack was an associate medical examiner, and he’d been in that position<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfor almost a year and a half so he’d seen such journalistic congestion<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\non numerous occasions. Generally it meant that there had been a death of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\na celebrity, or at least someone made momentarily famous by the media.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIf it wasn’t a single death, then it was a mass disaster like an<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nairplane crash or a train wreck. For reasons both personal and public<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack hoped it was the former.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nWith a green light, Jack pedaled across First Avenue and entered the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmorgue through the receiving dock on Thirtieth Street. He parked his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbike in his usual location near the Hart Island coffins used for the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nunclaimed dead and took the elevator up to the first floor.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIt was immediately apparent to Jack that the place was in a minor<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nuproar. Several of the day secretaries were busily manning the phones in<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe communications room: they normally didn’t arrive until eight. Their<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nconsoles were awash with blinking red lights. Even Sergeant Murphy’s<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncubicle was open and the overhead light was on, and his usual modus<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\noperandi was to arrive sometime after nine.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nWith curiosity mounting, Jack entered the ID room and headed directly<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfor the coffeepot. Vinnie Amendola, one of the mortuary techs, was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhiding behind his newspaper as per usual. But that was the only normal<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncircumstance for that time of the morning. Generally Jack was the first<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npathologist to arrive, but on this particular day the deputy chief, Dr.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCalvin Washington, Dr. Laurie Montgomery, and Dr. Chet McGovern were<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nalready there. The three were involved in a deep discussion along with<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSergeant Murphy and, to Jack’s surprise, Detective Lieutenant Lou<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSoldano from homicide. Lou was a frequent visitor to the morgue, but<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncertainly not at seven-thirty in the morning. On top of that, he looked<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlike he’d never been to bed, or if he had, he’d slept in his clothes.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack helped himself to coffee. No one acknowledged his arrival. After<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nadding a dollop of half-and-half as well as a cube of sugar to his cup,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack wandered to the door to the lobby. He glanced out, and as he’d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nexpected the area was filled to overflowing with media people talking<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\namong themselves and drinking take-out coffee. What he didn’t expect was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthat many were also smoking cigarettes. Since smoking was strictly<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntaboo, Jack told Vinnie to go out there and inform them.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘You’re closer,’ Vinnie said, without looking up from his newspaper.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack rolled his eyes at Vinnie’s lack of respect but had to admit Vinnie<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas right. So Jack walked over to the locked glass door and opened it.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nBefore he could call out his no smoking pronouncement, he was literally<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmobbed.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack had to push the microphones away that were thrust into his face.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe simultaneous questions precluded any real comprehension of what the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nquestions were other than about an anticipated autopsy.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack shouted at the top of his lungs that there was no smoking, then had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nto literally peel hands off his arm before he was able to get the door<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nclosed. On the other side the reporters surged forward, pressing<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncolleagues roughly against the glass like tomatoes in a jar of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npreserves.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nDisgusted, Jack returned to the ID room.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Will someone clue me in to what’s going on?’ he called out.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEveryone turned in Jack’s direction, but Laurie was the first to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrespond. ‘You haven’t heard?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Now, would I be asking if I’d heard?’ Jack said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘It’s been all over the TV for crissake,’ Calvin snapped.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Jack doesn’t own a TV,’ Laurie said. ‘His neighborhood won’t allow it.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Where do you live, son?’ Sergeant Murphy asked. ‘I’ve never heard of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nneighbors not allowing each other to have a television.’ The aging,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nred-faced, Irish policeman had a pronounced paternal streak. He’d been<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nassigned to the medical examiner’s office for more years than he was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwilling to admit and thought of all the employees as family.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘He lives in Harlem,’ Chet said. ‘Actually his neighbors would love him<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nto get a set so they could permanently borrow it.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Enough, you guys,’ Jack said. ‘Fill me in on the excitement.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘A Mafia don was gunned down yesterday late afternoon,’ Calvin’s booming<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nvoice announced. ‘It’s stirred up a hornet’s nest of trouble since he’d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nagreed to cooperate with the DA’s office and was under police<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nprotection.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘He was no Mafia don,’ Lou Soldano said. ‘He was nothing but a mid-level<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfunctionary of the Vaccarro crime family.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Whatever,’ Calvin said with a wave of his hand. ‘The key point is that<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhe was whacked while literally boxed in by a number of New York’s<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfinest, which doesn’t say much about their ability to protect someone in<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntheir charge.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘He was warned not to go to that restaurant,’ Lou protested. ‘I know<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthat for a fact. And it’s almost impossible to protect someone if the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nindividual refuses to follow suggestions.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Any chance he could have been killed by the police?’ Jack asked. One of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe roles of a medical examiner was to think of all angles, especially<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwhen situations of custody were concerned.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘He wasn’t under arrest,’ Lou said, guessing what was going through<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack’s mind. ‘He’d been arrested and indicted, but he was out on bail.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘So what’s the big deal?’ Jack asked.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘The big deal is that the mayor, the district attorney, and the police<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncommissioner are all under a lot of heat,’ Calvin said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Amen,’ Lou said. ‘Particularly the police commissioner. That’s why I’m<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhere. It’s turning into one of those public-relations nightmares that<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe media loves to blow way out of proportion. We’ve got to apprehend<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe perpetrator or perpetrators ASAP, otherwise heads are going to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nroll.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘And not to discourage future potential witnesses,’ Jack said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Yeah, that too,’ Lou said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I don’t know, Laurie,’ Calvin said, getting back to the discussion<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthey’d been having before Jack’s interruption. ‘I appreciate you coming<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nin early and offering to do this autopsy, but maybe Bingham might want<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nto do it himself.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘But why?’ Laurie complained. ‘Look, it’s a straightforward case, and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nI’ve recently done a lot of gunshot wounds. Besides, with Dr. Bingham’s<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbudget meeting this morning at City Hall, he can’t be here until almost<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnoon. By then I can have the autopsy done and whatever information I<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncome up with will be in the hands of the police. With their time<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nconstraint, it makes the most sense.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCalvin looked at Lou. ‘Do you think five or six hours will make a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndifference with the investigation?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘It could,’ Lou admitted. ‘Hell, the sooner the autopsy is done the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbetter. I mean, just knowing if we’re looking for one or two people will<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbe a big help.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCalvin sighed. ‘I hate this kind of decision.’ He shifted his massive<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntwo-hundred-and-fifty-pound muscular bulk from one foot to the other.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Trouble is, half the time I can’t anticipate Bingham’s reaction. But<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwhat the hell! Go for it, Laurie. The case is yours.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Thanks, Calvin,’ Laurie said gleefully. She snatched up the folder from<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe table. ‘Is it okay if Lou observes?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘By all means,’ Calvin said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Come on, Lou!’ Laurie said. She rescued her coat from a chair and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstarted for the door. ‘Let’s head downstairs, do a quick external exam,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nand have the body X-rayed. In the confusion last night it apparently<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwasn’t done.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’m right behind you,’ Lou said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack hesitated for a moment then hurried after them. He was mystified<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwhy Laurie was so interested in doing the autopsy. From his perspective<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nshe would have done better to stay clear. Such politically charged cases<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwere always hot potatoes. You couldn’t win.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLaurie was moving quickly, and Jack didn’t catch up to her and Lou until<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthey were beyond communications. Laurie stopped abruptly to lean into<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJanice Jaeger’s office. Janice was one of the forensic investigators,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nalso called physicians’ assistants or PAs. Janice ran the graveyard<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nshift and took her job very seriously. She always stayed late.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Will you be seeing Bart Arnold before you leave?’ Laurie asked Janice.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nBart Arnold was the chief of the PAs.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I usually do,’ Janice said. She was a tiny, dark-haired woman with<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nprominent circles under her eyes.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Do me a favor,’ Laurie said. ‘Ask him to call CNN and get a copy of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nvideo of Carlo Franconi’s assassination. I’d like to have it as soon as<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npossible.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Will do,’ Janice said cheerfully.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLaurie and Lou continued on their way.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Hey, slow down, you two,’ Jack said. He had to run a couple of steps to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncatch up to them.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘We’ve got work to do,’ Laurie said without breaking stride.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’ve never seen you so eager to do an autopsy,’ Jack said. He and Lou<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nflanked her as she hurried to the autopsy room. ‘What’s the attraction?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘A lot of things,’ Laurie said. She reached the elevator and pressed the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbutton.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Give me an example,’ Jack said. ‘I don’t mean to rain on your parade,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbut this is a politically sensitive case. No matter what you do or say,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nyou’ll be irritating someone. I think Calvin was right. This one ought<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nto be done by the chief.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘You’re entitled to your opinion,’ Laurie said. She hit the button<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nagain. The back elevator was inordinately slow. ‘But I feel differently.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nWith the work I’ve been doing on the forensics of gunshot wounds, I’m<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfascinated to have a case where there is a video of the event to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncorroborate my reconstruction of what happened. I was planning on<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwriting a paper on gunshot wounds, and this could be the crowning case.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Oh, dear,’ Jack moaned, raising his eyes heavenward. ‘And her<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmotivations were so noble.’ Then looking back at Laurie he said: ‘I<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthink you should reconsider! My intuition tells me you’re only going to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nget yourself into a bureaucratic headache. And there’s still time to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\navoid it. All you have to do is turn around and go back and tell Calvin<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nyou’ve changed your mind. I’m warning you, you’re taking a risk.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLaurie laughed. ‘You are the last person to advise me about risk.’ She<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nreached out and touched Jack on the end of his nose with her index<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfinger. ‘Everyone who knows you, me included, pleaded with you not to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nget that new bike. You’re risking your life, not a headache.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe elevator arrived, and Laurie and Lou boarded. Jack hesitated but<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthen squeezed through the doors just before they closed.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘You are not going to talk me out of this,’ Laurie said. ‘So save your<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbreath.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Okay,’ Jack said, raising his hands in mock surrender. ‘I promise: no<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmore advice. Now, I’m just interested in watching this story unfold.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIt’s a paper day for me today, so if you don’t mind, I’ll watch.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘You can do more than that if you want,’ Laurie said. ‘You can help.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’m sensitive about horning in on Lou.’ His double entendre was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nintended.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLou laughed, Laurie blushed, but the comment went unacknowledged.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘You implied there were other reasons for your interest in this case,’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJack said. ‘If you don’t mind my asking, what are they?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLaurie cast a quick glance at Lou that Jack saw but couldn’t interpret.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Hmmm,’ Jack said. ‘I’m getting the feeling there’s something going on<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhere that isn’t any of my business.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Nothing like that,’ Lou volunteered. ‘It’s just an unusual connection.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe victim, Carlo Franconi, had taken the place of a midlevel crime<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhoodlum named Pauli Cerino. Cerino’s position had become vacant after<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCerino was thrown in the slammer, mostly due to Laurie’s persistence and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhard work.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘And yours, too,’ Laurie added as the elevator jerked to a stop and the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndoors opened.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Yeah, but mostly yours,’ Lou said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe three got off on the basement level and headed in the direction of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe mortuary office.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Did the Cerino case involve that series of overdoses you’ve made<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nreference to?’ Jack asked Laurie.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’m afraid so,’ Laurie said. ‘It was awful. The experience terrified<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nme, and the problem is some of the characters are still around,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nincluding Cerino although he’s in jail.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘And not likely to be released for a long time,’ Lou added.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Or so I’d like to believe,’ Laurie said. ‘Anyway, I’m hoping that doing<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe post on Franconi might provide me with some closure. I still have<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnightmares occasionally.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘They sealed her in a pine coffin to abduct her from here,’ Lou said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘She was taken away in one of the mortuary vans.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘My god!’ Jack said to Laurie. ‘You never told me about that.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I try not to think about it,’ Laurie said. Then without missing a beat<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nshe added: ‘You guys wait out here.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLaurie ducked into the mortuary office to get a copy of the list of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrefrigerator compartments assigned to the cases that had come in the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nprevious night.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I can’t imagine getting closed in a coffin,’ Jack said. He shuddered.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHeights were his main phobia but tight, confining spaces came a close<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsecond.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Nor can I,’ Lou agreed. ‘But she was able to recover remarkably. An<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhour or so after being released she had the presence of mind to figure<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nout how to save us both. That was particularly humbling since I’d gone<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthere to save her.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Jeez!’ Jack said with a shake of his head. ‘Up until this minute I<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthought my getting handcuffed to a sink by a couple of killers who were<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\narguing over who was going to do me in was the worst-case scenario.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLaurie came out of the office waving a sheet of paper. ‘Compartment one<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\neleven,’ she said. ‘And I was right. The body wasn’t X-rayed.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLaurie took off like a power walker. Jack and Lou had to hustle to catch<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nup with her. She made a beeline for the proper compartment. Once there<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nshe slipped the autopsy folder under her left arm and used her right<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhand to release the latch. In one, smooth, practiced motion, she swung<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nopen the door and slid out the tray on its ball bearings.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLaurie’s brow furrowed.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘That’s odd!’ she remarked. The tray was empty save for a few blood<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstains and hardened secretions.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLaurie slid the tray back in and closed the door. She rechecked the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnumber. There’d been no mistake. It was compartment one eleven.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAfter looking at the list once again to make certain she’d not misread<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe number, she reopened the compartment door, shielded her eyes from<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe glare of the overhead lights, and peered into the depths of the dark<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ninterior. There was no doubt: the compartment did not contain Carlo<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFranconi’s remains.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘What the hell!’ Laurie complained. She slammed the insulated door. And<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\njust to be sure there wasn’t some stupid logistic error, she opened up<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nall the neighboring compartments one after the other. In those which<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncontained bodies, she checked the names and accession numbers. But it<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsoon became obvious: Carlo Franconi was not among them.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I don’t believe this,’ Laurie said with angry frustration. ‘The damn<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbody is gone!’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nA smile had appeared on Jack’s face from the moment compartment one<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\neleven had proved to be empty. Now, facing Laurie’s exasperated frown,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhe couldn’t help himself. He laughed heartily. Unfortunately his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlaughter further piqued Laurie.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’m sorry,’ Jack managed. ‘My intuition told me this case was going to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngive you a bureaucratic headache. I was wrong. It’s going to give the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbureaucracy a headache.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCHAPTER 2<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n———<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMARCH 4, 1997<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n1:30 P.M.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCOGO, EQUATORIAL GUINEA<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKEVIN Marshall put down his pencil and looked out the window above his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndesk. In contrast to his inner turmoil, the weather outside was rather<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npleasant with the first patches of blue sky that Kevin had seen for<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmonths. The dry season had finally begun. Of course it wasn’t dry; it<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\njust didn’t rain nearly as much as during the wet season. The downside<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas that the more consistent sun made the temperature soar to ovenlike<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlevels. At the moment it hovered at one hundred and fifteen degrees in<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe shade.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin had not worked well that morning nor had he slept during the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnight. The anxiety he’d felt the previous day at the commencement of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsurgery had not abated. In fact, it had gotten worse, especially after<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe unexpected call from the GenSys CEO, Taylor Cabot. Kevin had only<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nspoken with the man on one previous occasion. Most people in the company<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nequated the experience with talking with God.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAdding to Kevin’s unease was seeing another wisp of smoke snaking its<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nway up into the sky from Isla Francesca. He’d noticed it when he’d first<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\narrived at the lab that morning. As near as he could tell it was coming<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfrom the same location as the day before: the sheer side of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlimestone escarpment. The fact that the smoke was no longer apparent<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfailed to comfort him.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nGiving up on any attempt at further work, Kevin peeled off his white lab<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncoat and draped it over his chair. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nknew his housekeeper, Esmeralda, would have made lunch, so he felt<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nobliged to make an appearance.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin descended the three flights of stairs in a preoccupied daze.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSeveral co-workers passed him and said hello, but it was as if Kevin did<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnot see them. He was too preoccupied. In the last twenty-four hours he’d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncome to realize that he would have to take action. The problem wasn’t<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngoing to pass as he’d hoped it would a week previously when he’d first<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nglimpsed the smoke.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nUnfortunately, he had no idea what to do. He knew he was no hero; in<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfact, over the years he’d come to think of himself as a coward of sorts.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHe hated confrontation and avoided it. As a boy, he had even shunned<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncompetition except for chess. He’d grown up pretty much a loner.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin paused at the glass door to the exterior. Across the square he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncould see the usual coterie of Equatoguinean soldiers beneath the arches<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nof the old town hall. They were up to their usual sedentary pursuits,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\naimlessly passing the time of the day. Some were sitting in old rattan<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfurniture playing cards, others were leaning up against the building<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\narguing with each other in strident voices. Almost all of them were<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsmoking. Cigarettes were part of their wages. They were dressed in<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsoiled, jungle-camouflage fatigues with scuffed combat boots and red<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nberets. All of them had automatic assault rifles either slung over their<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nshoulders or within arm’s reach.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFrom the moment of Kevin’s arrival at Cogo five years previously, the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsoldiers had scared him. Cameron McIvers, head of security, who had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ninitially shown Kevin around, told him that GenSys had hired a good<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nportion of the Equatoguinean army for protection. Later Cameron had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nadmitted that the army’s so-called employment was in reality an<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nadditional payoff to the government as well as to the Minister of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nDefense and the Minister of Territorial Administration.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFrom Kevin’s perspective the soldiers looked more like a bunch of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\naimless teenagers than protectors. Their complexions were like burnished<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nebony. Their blank expressions and arched eyebrows gave them a look of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsuperciliousness that reflected their boredom. Kevin always had the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nuncomfortable sense they were itching to have an excuse to use their<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nweapons.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin pushed through the door and walked across the square. He didn’t<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlook in the direction of the soldiers, but from past experience he knew<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nat least some of them were watching him, and it made his skin crawl.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin didn’t know a word of Fang, the major local dialect, so he had no<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nidea what they were saying.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nOnce out of sight of the central square Kevin relaxed a degree and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nslowed his pace. The combination of heat and hundred-percent humidity<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas like a perpetual steam bath. Any activity caused a sweat. After only<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\na few minutes, Kevin could feel his shirt beginning to adhere to his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nback.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin’s house was situated a little more than halfway between the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhospital-lab complex and the waterfront, a distance of only three<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nblocks. The town was small but had obviously been charming in its day.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe buildings had been constructed primarily of brightly colored stucco<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwith red tile roofs. Now the colors had faded to pale pastels. The<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nshutters were the type that hinged at the top. Most were in a terrible<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstate of disrepair except for the ones on the renovated buildings. The<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstreets had been laid out in an unimaginative grid but had been paved<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nover the years with imported granite that had served as sailing ships’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nballast. In Spanish colonial times the town’s wealth had come from<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nagriculture, particularly cocoa and coffee production, and it had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngraciously supported a population of several thousand people.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nBut the town’s history changed dramatically after 1959, the year of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEquatorial Guinea’s independence. The new president, Macias Nguema,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nquickly metamorphosed from a popularly elected official to the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncontinent’s worst, sadistic dictator whose atrocities managed to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nout-class even those of Idi Amin of Uganda and Jean-Bedel Bokassa of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCentral African Republic. The effect on the country was apocalyptic.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAfter fifty thousand people were murdered, a third of the population of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe entire country fled, including all the Spanish settlers. Most of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncountry’s towns were decimated, particularly Cogo which had been<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncompletely abandoned. The road connecting Cogo to the rest of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncountry fell into ruin and quickly became impassable.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFor a number of years, the town was fated to be a mere curiosity for the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\noccasional visitor arriving by small motorboat from the coastal town of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAcalayong. The jungle had begun to reclaim the land by the time a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrepresentative of GenSys had happened upon it seven years previously.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThis individual recognized Cogo’s isolation and its limitless<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsurrounding rain forest as the perfect spot for GenSys intended primate<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfacility. Returning to Malabo, the capital of Equatorial Guinea, the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nGenSys official immediately commenced negotiations with the current<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEquatoguinean government. Since the country was one of the poorest of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAfrica and consequently desperate for foreign exchange, the new<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npresident was eager and negotiations proceeded apace.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin rounded the last corner and approached his house. It was three<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstories like most of the other buildings in the town. It had been<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntastefully renovated by GenSys to give it storybook appeal. In fact it<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas one of the more desirable houses in the whole town and a source of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nenvy of a number of the other GenSys employees, particularly head of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsecurity, Cameron McIvers. Only Siegfried Spallek, manager of the Zone,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nand Bertram Edwards, chief veterinarian, had accommodations that were<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nequivalent. Kevin had attributed his good luck to intercession on his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbehalf by Dr. Raymond Lyons, but he didn’t know for certain.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe house had been built in the mid-nineteenth century by a successful<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nimport\/exporter in traditional Spanish style. The first floor was arched<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nand arcaded like the town hall and had originally housed shops and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstorage facilities. The second floor was the main living floor with<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthree bedrooms, three baths, a large through-and-through living room, a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndining room, a kitchen, and a tiny maid’s apartment. It was surrounded<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nby a veranda on all four sides. The third floor was an enormous open<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nroom with wide-plank flooring illuminated with two huge, cast-iron<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nchandeliers. It was capable of holding a hundred people with ease and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhad apparently been used for mass meetings.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin entered and climbed a central stairway that led up to a narrow<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhall. From there he went into the dining room. As he expected, the table<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhad been laid for lunch.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe house was too big for Kevin, especially since he didn’t have a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfamily. He’d said as much when he’d first been shown the property, but<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSiegfried Spallek had told him the decision had been made in Boston and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwarned Kevin not to complain. So Kevin accepted the assignment, but his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nco-workers’ envy often made him feel uncomfortable.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAs if by magic Esmeralda appeared. Kevin wondered how she did it so<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nconsistently. It was as if she were always on the lookout for his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\napproaching the house. She was a pleasant woman of indeterminate age<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwith rounded features and sad eyes. She dressed in a shift of brightly<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncolored print fabric with a matching scarf wrapped tightly around her<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhead. Besides her native tongue, she spoke fluent Spanish and passable<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEnglish that improved on a daily basis.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEsmeralda lived in the maid’s quarters Monday through Friday. Over the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nweekend she stayed with her family in a village that GenSys had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nconstructed to the east along the banks of the estuary to house the many<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlocal workers employed in the Zone, as the area occupied by GenSys’s<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEquatoguinean operation was called. She and her family had been moved<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthere from Bata, the main city on the Equatoguinean mainland. The<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncapital of the country, Malabo, was on an island called Bioko.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin had encouraged Esmeralda to go home in the evenings during the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nweek if she so desired, but she declined. When Kevin persisted, she told<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhim she’d been ordered to remain in Cogo.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘There is a phone message for you,’ Esmeralda said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Oh,’ Kevin said nervously. His pulse quickened. Phone messages were<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrare, and in his current state he did not need any more unexpected<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nevents. The call in the middle of the night from Taylor Cabot had been<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndisturbing enough.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘It was from Dr. Raymond Lyons in New York,’ Esmeralda said. ‘He wants<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nyou to call him back.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe fact that the call was from overseas did not surprise Kevin. With<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe satellite communications GenSys had installed in the Zone, it was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfar easier to call Europe or the U.S. than Bata, a mere sixty miles to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe north. Calls to Malabo were almost impossible.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin started for the living room. The phone was on a desk in the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncorner.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Will you be eating lunch?’ Esmeralda asked.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Yes,’ Kevin said. He still wasn’t hungry but he didn’t want to hurt<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEsmeralda’s feelings.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin sat down at his desk. With his hand on the phone he quickly<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncalculated it was about eight o’clock in the morning in New York. He<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npondered what Dr. Lyons had called about but guessed it had something to<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndo with his brief conversation with Taylor Cabot. Kevin did not like the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nidea of an autopsy on Carlo Franconi, and he didn’t imagine that Raymond<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLyons would either.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin had first met Raymond six years previously. It was during a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmeeting in New York of the American Association for the Advancement of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nScience where Kevin presented a paper. Kevin hated giving papers and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrarely did, but on this occasion he’d been forced to do so by the chief<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nof his department at Harvard. Dating back to his Ph.D. thesis his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ninterest was the transposition of chromosomes: a process by which<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nchromosomes exchanged bits and pieces to enhance species adaption and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhence evolution. This phenomenon happened particularly frequently during<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe generation of sex cells: a process known as meiosis.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nBy coincidence, during the same meeting and at the same time Kevin was<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nscheduled to present, James Watson and Francis Crick gave an immensely<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npopular talk on the anniversary of their discovery of the structure of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nDNA. Consequently, very few people came to hear Kevin. One of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nattendees had been Raymond. It was after this talk that Raymond first<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\napproached Kevin. The conversation resulted in Kevin’s leaving Harvard<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nand coming to work for GenSys.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nWith a slightly shaky hand Kevin picked up the receiver and dialed.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond answered on the first ring, suggesting he’d been hovering over<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthe phone. The connection was crystal clear as if he were in the next<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nroom.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’ve got good news,’ Raymond said as soon as he knew it was Kevin.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘There’s to be no autopsy.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin didn’t respond. His mind was a jumble.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Aren’t you relieved?’ Raymond asked. ‘I know Cabot called you last<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnight.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’m relieved to an extent,’ Kevin said. ‘But autopsy or no autopsy, I’m<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhaving second thoughts about this whole operation.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nNow it was Raymond’s turn to be silent. No sooner had he solved one<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npotential problem than another was rearing its unwelcome head.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Maybe we’ve made a mistake,’ Kevin said. ‘What I mean is, maybe I’ve<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmade a mistake. My conscience is starting to bother me, and I’m getting<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\na little scared. I’m really a basic science person. This applied science<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nis not my thing.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Oh, please!’ Raymond said irritably. ‘Don’t complicate things! Not now.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nI mean, you’ve got that lab you’ve always wanted. I’ve beat my brains<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nout getting you every damn piece of equipment that you’ve asked for. And<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\non top of that, things are going so well, especially with my recruiting.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHell, with all the stock options you’re amassing, you’ll be a rich man.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’ve never intended on being rich,’ Kevin said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Worse things could happen,’ Raymond said. ‘Come on, Kevin! Don’t do<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthis to me.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘And what good is being rich when I have to be out here in the heart of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndarkness?’ Kevin said. Unwittingly his mind conjured up the image of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nmanager, Siegfried Spallek. Kevin shuddered. He was terrified of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nman.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘It’s not forever,’ Raymond said. ‘You told me yourself, you’re almost<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthere, that the system is nearly perfect. When it is and you’ve trained<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsomeone to take your place, you can come back here. With your money<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nyou’ll be able to build the lab of your dreams.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’ve seen more smoke coming from the island,’ Kevin said. ‘Just like<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlast week.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Forget the smoke!’ Raymond said. ‘You’re letting your imagination run<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwild. Instead of working yourself up into a frenzy over nothing,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nconcentrate on your work so you can finish. If you’ve got some free<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntime, start fantasizing about the lab you’ll be building back here<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstate-side.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin nodded. Raymond had a point. Part of Kevin’s concern was that if<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwhat he’d been involved with in Africa became common knowledge, he might<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnever be able to go back to academia. No one would hire him much less<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngive him tenure. But if he had his own lab and an independent income, he<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwouldn’t have to worry.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Listen,’ Raymond said. ‘I’ll be coming to pick up the last patient when<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhe’s ready, which should be soon. We’ll talk again then. Meanwhile just<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nremember that we’re almost there and money is pouring into our offshore<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncoffers.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘All right,’ Kevin said reluctantly.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Just don’t do anything rash,’ Raymond said. ‘Promise me!’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘All right,’ Kevin repeated with slightly more enthusiasm.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin hung up the phone. Raymond was a persuasive person, and whenever<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin spoke to him, Kevin inevitably felt better.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKevin pushed back from the desk and walked back to the dining room.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFollowing Raymond’s advice he tried to think of where he’d build his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlab. There were some strong arguments for Cambridge, Massachusetts,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nbecause of the associations Kevin had with both Harvard and MIT. But<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthen again maybe it would be better to be out in the countryside like up<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nin New Hampshire.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLunch was a white fish that Kevin didn’t recognize. When he inquired<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nabout it, Esmeralda gave him only the name in Fang, which meant nothing<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nto Kevin. He surprised himself by eating more than he’d expected. The<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nconversation with Raymond had had a positive effect on his appetite. The<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nidea of having his own lab still held inordinate appeal.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAfter eating, Kevin changed his damp shirt for a clean, freshly ironed<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\none. He was eager to get back to work. As he was about to descend the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstairs, Esmeralda inquired when he wanted dinner. He told her seven, the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nusual time.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nWhile Kevin had been lunching a leaden group of gray lavender clouds had<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrolled in from the ocean. By the time he emerged from his front door, it<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas pouring, and the street in front of his house was a cascade as the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nrunoff raced down to the waterfront. Looking south over the Estuario del<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMuni, Kevin could see a line of bright sunshine as well as the arch of a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncomplete rainbow. The weather in Gabon was still clear. Kevin was not<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsurprised. There had been times when it had rained on one side of the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstreet and not the other.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nGuessing the rain would continue for at least the next hour, Kevin<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nskirted his house beneath the protection of the arcade and climbed into<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhis black Toyota utility vehicle. Although it was a ridiculously short<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndrive back to the hospital, Kevin felt it was better to ride than be wet<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nfor the rest of the afternoon.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCHAPTER 3<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n———<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMARCH 4, 1997<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n8:45 A.M.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nNEW YORK CITY<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘WELL, what do you want to do?’ Franco Ponti asked while looking at his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nboss, Vinnie Dominick, in the rearview mirror. They were in Vinnie’s<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLincoln Town-car. Vinnie was in the backseat, leaning forward with his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nright hand holding onto the overhead strap. He was looking out at 126<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEast 64th Street. It was a brownstone built in a French rococo style<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwith high-arched, multipaned windows. The first-floor windows were<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nheavily barred for protection.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Looks like pretty posh digs,’ Vinnie said. ‘The good doctor is doing<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nokay for himself.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Should I park?’ Franco asked. The car was in the middle of the street,<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nand the taxi behind them was honking insistently.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Park!’ Vinnie said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFranco drove ahead until he came to a fire hydrant. He pulled to the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncurb. The taxi went past, the driver frantically giving them the finger.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAngelo Facciolo shook his head and made a disparaging comment about<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nexpatriate Russian taxi drivers. Angelo was sitting in the front<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npassenger seat.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nVinnie climbed out of the car. Franco and Angelo quickly followed suit.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAll three men were impeccably dressed in long, Salvatore Ferragamo<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\novercoats in varying shades of gray.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘You think the car will be okay?’ Franco asked.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I anticipate this will be a short meeting,’ Vinnie said. ‘But put the<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nPolice Benevolent Association Commendation on the dash. Might as well<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsave fifty bucks.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nVinnie walked back to number 126. Franco and Angelo trailed in their<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nperpetually vigilant style. Vinnie looked at the door intercom. ‘It’s a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nduplex,’ Vinnie said. ‘I guess the doctor isn’t doing quite as well as I<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nthought.’ Vinnie pressed the button for Dr. Raymond Lyons and waited.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Hello?’ a feminine voice inquired.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’m here to see the doctor,’ Vinnie said. ‘My name is Vinnie Dominick.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThere was a pause. Vinnie played with a bottle cap with the tip of his<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nGucci loafer. Franco and Angelo looked up and down the street.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe intercom crackled back to life. ‘Hello, this is Dr. Lyons. Can I<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhelp you?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I believe so,’ Vinnie said. ‘I need about fifteen minutes of your<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ntime.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I’m not sure I know you, Mr. Dominick,’ Raymond said. ‘Could you tell<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nme what this is in reference to?’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘It’s in reference to a favor I did for you last night,’ Vinnie said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘The request had come through a mutual acquaintance, Dr. Daniel Levitz.’<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThere was a pause.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I trust you are still there, Doctor,’ Vinnie said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Yes, of course,’ Raymond said. A raucous buzzing sounded. Vinnie pushed<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nopen the heavy door and entered. His minions followed.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I don’t think the good doctor is terribly excited to see us,’ Vinnie<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nquipped as they rode up in the small elevator. The three men were<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\npressed together like cigars in a triple pack.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond met his visitors as they exited the lift. He was obviously<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nnervous as he shook hands with all three after the introductions. He<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngestured for them to enter his apartment and then showed them into a<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsmall, mahogany-paneled study.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Coffee anyone?’ Raymond asked.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nFranco and Angelo looked at Vinnie.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘I wouldn’t turn down an expresso if it’s not too much trouble,’ Vinnie<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nsaid. Franco and Angelo said they’d have the same.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond used his desk phone to place the order.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRaymond’s worst fears had materialized the moment he’d caught sight of<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nhis uninvited guests. From his perspective they appeared like<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nstereotypes from a grade-B movie. Vinnie was about five-ten, darkly<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ncomplected and handsome, with full features and slicked-back hair. He<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nwas obviously the boss. The other two men were both over six feet and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ngaunt. Their noses and lips were thin and their eyes were beady and<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\ndeeply set. They could have been brothers. The main difference in their<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nappearance was the condition of Angelo’s skin. Raymond thought it looked<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nlike the far side of the moon.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Can I take your coats?’ Raymond asked.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘We don’t intend on staying too long,’ Vinnie said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘At least sit down,’ Raymond said.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nVinnie relaxed into a leather armchair. Franco and Angelo sat stiffly on<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\na velvet-covered settee. Raymond sat behind his desk.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Read the full book by downloading it below.<\/p>\n

DOWNLOAD EPUB<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Book Preview Chromosome 6 ============ \u00a0 Robin Cook ========== \u00a0 Table of Contents —————– \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Prologue \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Chapter 1 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Chapter 2 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Chapter 3 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Chapter 4 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Chapter 5 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Chapter 6 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Chapter 7 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Chapter 8 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – Chapter 9 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3057,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[167],"class_list":["post-3058","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-robin-cook"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3058","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3058"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3058\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3057"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3058"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3058"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3058"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}