He'd just made another stop at Gina's apartment. Still empty. And now, for the third time tonight, or this morning rather, since the sun was threatening to rise, he was checking out Lathram's building.
He pulled into the rear lot and was startled to find three cars there, two of them Federal, according to their plates. As he parked and got out of his car, he saw a very grim-looking Gin being escorted from the building by three guys in suits.
Weak with relief, he leaned back against the car. Thank God!
At least she was alive, though not looking too well. And the three with her, had to be Secret Service. Bob Decker was one of them.
Secret Service . . . the president's surgery. Shit. If she'd been right about that, what else had she been right about?
He slammed the car door behind him. God damn it!
Gin's face broke into a smile. "Gerry!"
"Speak of the devil," Decker said, "we were just,"
"You son of a bitch!" Gerry shouted as he strode toward them. "Son of a bitch!"
The two other agents with Decker pulled back and their hands started drifting toward their jackets.
"It's okay," Decker said. "I know him. A Fibby."
"Gin," Gerry said, "are you okay?"
She beamed at him. "I am now."
She looked so small and fragile between them. Gerry wanted to take her in his arms and tell her she'd be all right, but now wasn't the time, not in this place, not in this company.
He turned to Decker. "You told me you knew nothing about any surgery on the president, yet here you are at Lathram's surgicenter at five in the morning. You want to explain that, pal?"
Decker shrugged. "The Man says he doesn't want anyone told, no one gets told."
"This could have ended up a disaster, you know."
"You mean if we'd let this young lady run loose in there?"
"No, I mean if she hadn't found her way here."
"Gerry!" Gin said, her eyes wide. "You mean you believe me!"
"I don't know exactly what I believe, but I know there's enough fishy stuff connected with Dr. Lathram that you shouldn't let him come within a couple of miles of the president."
Decker's bantering manner was gone. "He told us this little lady led you and the Bureau on a wild-goose chase last week."
"It was a wild-goose chase, all right, but I'm not so sure anymore who was leading us."
"And the doc inside says she stabbed him."
"With the trocar," Gin said. "The same one he used on me. The one he was going to use on the president."
Gerry winced at the way that sounded. So far out. Who on earth would believe her?
Which worked perfectly to Lathram's advantage.
But what if he'd intended that all along?
"My agents'll take her downtown and get a statement,"
"No, wait!" Gin cried. "We can settle this all now. I know how."
"Come on, miss," said the red-haired agent holding her, and began guiding her toward the car.
Gerry put a hand on his chest. "Give her a minute. Let's hear her out. Maybe if I'd done that a while back, the five of us might be home in bed instead of standing here at this ungodly hour." She'd been right about the president's surgery. What else had she been right about?
The grateful look Gin gave him more than made up for all these sleepless hours.
"All right," Decker said. "Five minutes, then she's on her way."
Duncan couldn't imagine how things could get much worse, but assumed they probably would.
As he watched the Secret Service agents escort Gin to the parking lot, he discarded all plans of making further use of the TPD. Damage control was the immediate and most pressing concern.
And the first, all-important task was to dispose of the TPD.
Duncan pulled the vial from his pocket and hurried back downstairs to Oliver's lab. He placed it in the utility sink, covered it with a paper towel, and smashed it into tiny fragments. He ran water into the sink for a while, then dumped the remaining glass shards from the strainer into the soggy paper towel. He rinsed the syringe Gin had used, running acetone through the barrel and the needle to destroy any trace of TPD.
Then he simply dropped it in the sharps receptacle with all the other used syringes.
He left the water running while he went back upstairs to the men's room and flushed the remnants of the vial, its label, and the paper towel into the Chevy Chase sewer system .
And that was that. TPD? I don't know what she's talking about.
Search the place. Be my guest.
The last remaining sample of the compound was nestled in his thigh.
That was a truly horrifying thought. Imaginulg what would happen to him if it ruptured before he could have it removed broke him out in a sweat.
He'd have to be very careful for the next few hours. And by this afternoon, when everything settled down, he'd have the implant removed.
Any one of his many friends among the surgeons of the area would take care of that on a moment's notice.
He rinsed his hands. As he dried them he stared at himself in the mirror.
It's over, he thought. Maybe you accomplished something by disrupting the Guidelines committee, maybe you didn't. At least Lisa is avenged.
Any regrets?
Only having to act against Gin. And having to pass up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to strike against that wampus in the White House.
He sighed. But a man had to know when to quit. And that time was now.
He dried his hands and stepped back into the hall.
"Dr. Lathram." It was Agent Decker's voice.
He turned and saw a small crowd approaching him. Gin, The three Secret Service men, and a fourth man. Canney, the FBI man. What was he doing here?
"Can we go downstairs?" Decker said. "We're trying to dear up a few things here and I wonder if you could help us."
Duncan didn't like the sound of that, and he didn't like the predatory look in Gin's eyes.
For an instant he considered calling a lawyer, but decided against it.
That would look suspicious and only draw things out.
He could handle these people.
* * *
Gin listened as Agent Decker began talking. He was a cool character, seemed almost imperturbable. But his blue eyes never stopped moving.
This guy didn't miss a trick.
"Now Dr. Lathram, you stated earlier that Dr. Panzella stabbed you. Are you willing to file assault charges?" Gin saw a look of relief flicker across Duncan's features.
"No. Absolutely not. She's not herself. I don't want her jailed, I simply want her to receive the proper therapy." Gin clamped her jaws to keep from shouting. As planned, the red-haired agent, his name was Reilley, she'd learned, had positioned her on the far side of the lab bench. Gerry stood on the near side, partially blocking her from Duncan's view.
Dear Gerry. She'd never been so glad to see anyone in her life as when he'd cruised into the parking lot this morning. He hadn't given up on her, hadn't written her off. He'd been up all night searching for her.
She'd wanted to throw her arms around him.
"That's very generous of you," Decker was saying, "but we're concerned about your safety. Dr. Panzella said she left some sort of poison pellet under your skin when she stabbed you."
"Ridiculous," Duncan said. "It's part of her delusional system. She imagines I've been doing that to other people, including herself, so now she thinks she's done it to me. She needs therapy, gentlemen. And the sooner you get her to a facility that can care for her, the better." So damn glib, Gin thought as she quietly reinserted the plug of the ultrasound's power cord into the wall socket. The "silver-tongued devil" made flesh.
She pressed the ultrasound's power switch to ON. The red light began to glow.
'"Ready," she whispered.
Gerry turned and winked at her as he picked up the transducer handle.
He turned back to Duncan and held it up where he could see it.
 
; "If that's true, Dr. Lathram, then I don't suppose you'd mind if I ran this over your leg." Gin saw Duncan's eyes widen, saw his gaze dart to the glowing power indicator on the machine. He spun and tried to flee, but Briggs was at the door, and Duncan wasn't getting past him.
"Keep that away from me!" he cried. "For God's sake, turn that thing off!" Decker glanced Gin's way and gave her a little nod of acknowledgment .
Triumph burned through the haze of her fatigue. Yes! Add one more to the believer list.
Decker's features hardened as he turned back to Duncan, but he didn't get a chance to speak. Gerry had taken over.
"Sit down, Dr. Lathram," Gerry said, gesturing carelessly to a chair near the counter with the transducer.
"Please," Duncan said. "Be careful with,"
"Sit down!" Duncan sat. Gin watched admiringly as Gerry commanded the room.
"Is there an implant filled with something called TPD in your leg?"
"No." Gerry examined the transducer handle. "Then I guess there'd be no harm in my turning this thing on and,''
"All right! " Duncan cried. "Yes! Yes, there is! There's an implant in my leg!" He was visibly trembling now. "Please put that thing away!"
"Just a couple more questions. Did you stick a similar implant in Senator Vincent's leg after you did plastic surgery on him?"
"I don't have to answer that, " Duncan said.
"Of course you don't," Gerry said. He half turned to Gin and pointed to the ON button on the handle. "Is this the one that makes it work?"
"Yes!" Duncan shouted. "Yes, I did!" He said it! Thank God!
"And how about Lane and Allard and Schulz?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" He was on his feet, backing away, his voice rising toward a scream. "Are you satisfied? Yes, goddammit! Now turn that thing off!"
"I've heard enough," Decker said.
"So have I," said Gerry. He placed the handle in its cradle on the ultrasound machine.
It's over, Gin thought, sagging against the counter. Over at last.
Decker turned to the agent next to Gin and pointed to Duncan.
"Reilley, why don't you keep Dr. Lathram company. Everybody else stay right where they are for the moment. I'm going upstairs to make some calls."
Gerry stretched his hand across the counter to her. Weak with relief, she clutched it.
"How's it going?" he said.
"Much better, now that you're here."
He stared into her eyes. "Tell me . . . back at the Tremont . . . the blood in the bathroom . . . did you . . . ?" She nodded and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them he was looking away.
"You are incredible. And I'm sorry I doubted you." Those words were music.
She took his hand in both of hers. "We were both being manipulated by a master. The important thing is you cared enough not to give up on me. That means the whole world to me."
Gerry glanced over his shoulder at Duncan. "He doesn't look like a guy who's going down for two counts of second degree murder and a host of federal crimes."
Gin saw what he meant Duncan looked cool and calm in his chair now that the ultrasound transducer had been put away. She began to move around the counter to get closer to him.
'"Where're you going?" Gerry said.
"I want a few words with my former boss." My former idol. She had to be careful here. She had something to say but she didn't want her feelings to get in the way. Just looking at him now made her want to burst into tears.
"Do you realize what you've become, Duncan?"
He gazed up at her blandly. "I have a feeling you're going to tell me."
"Ever since I came to Washington you've been talking to me about ethics and honesty and probity and how nobody in the government adheres to any moral and ethical standards. And you weren't far off the mark, unfortunately. But I always assumed you were speaking from higher ground. You weren't. During all that talk you were desecrating your oath as a physician. I know those men hurt you, and they may well have been the crooks, cheats, venal, low-rent, bloodsucking leeches on the public trust you said they were, but that doesn't matter. They came to you as a doctor and you accepted them as patients. They were counting on you being better than they were. That's a sacred trust, primum non nocere, and you defiled it." She noticed Decker slipping back into the room, but he didn't interrupt her. Good. She wasn't finished yet.
"I know what you used to be, Duncan, who you used to be, and I admired that person like no one else in the world. But you became exactly like the people you detest so much, the end justifies the means, anything goes. Look what you tried to do to me." She realized how angry she was becoming. She had to shut up before she exploded. "You be the enemy, Duncan. And you're going to pay for it."
"Maybe," he said softly. "And maybe not."
"Don't kid yourself, ' she said, feeling her fury escalating. "You just confessed in front of a roomful of people."
He smiled at her. "Whatever statements I made were coerced from me, elicited under threats of damage." He looked around at the four government agents. "Ask any of these gentlemen if they think one word of what I said here will ever be admissible in court."
Gin looked around. No one had to say anything. Gerry's eyes spoke volumes.
Something snapped inside her. "You mean he's going free?" Gerry started to say something but Gin didn't hear it. All the pain, all the anguish, the terror, the self-doubt, the betrayal, and Duncan was going to walk!
She turned, grabbed the ultrasound handle, thumbed the power button, and slammed it against Duncan's leg.
"Walk away from that!"
Duncan screamed "NO!" and clutched at his thigh. "Oh, God, NO!"
The lab was suddenly bedlam, Reilley pushed her away from Duncan, Gerry pulled the handle from her hand, while Decker was saying, "Jesus H. Christ! Gerry, get her the hell out of here!"
Gerry grasped both her upper arms from behind and gently but firmly propelled her toward the door, guiding her past Duncan, who was now bent double as he clawed at his thigh, whimpering and moaning, "Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no, please, God, no-oh-no-oh-no!" And then they were in the narrow passageway outside the lab. Gerry shut the door behind them and turned her around to face him.
"My God, Gin! I can't believe you did that."
"I want him to be as frightened as I was. I want him to know what it feels like to be utterly terrified."
"I can appreciate that. Look, know what he tried to do to you, but after all you just said, I never thought . . . "
He ran out of words and stared at her. "Why are you smiling?"
She truly loved this man's sense of decency.
"I guess I forgot to mention that Duncan's implant was empty."
"Empty?" She nodded. "Right. He burst in on me before I had a chance to fill it, so I stuck him with an empty one." She watched Gerry's expression slacken, then saw his lips turn up at the corners.
A second later he was shaking his head and grinning.
"I love it. Give him a taste of his own medicine, or let him think that's what he's getting." He slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I was so worried about you. Why didn't you call?"
"I didn't think you'd believe me." Suddenly she felt weak and shaky. "Can we sit down?"
He guided her to one of the chairs in the lounge area and pulled another up close beside her. He slipped a protective arm over her shoulders.
"That will never happen again, Gin. I'll always believe you. I swear."
"Good. Hopefully I'll never again be in a situation like this."
"That makes two of us. Three of us, counting Martha. She's missed you." He leaned closer. "I think this morning will square me with the Bureau. Which means I'll probably be moving up. I'm thinking of moving Martha away from the District. How about you? Still itching to work on the Hill?"
Gin shook her head. "I've had it with this place. I think I'm going to look for a practice in a nice little town where only things are for sale, not people."
"Great." His eyes held h
ers.
"Maybe you could pick one with an FBI office nearby. How's that sound?"
"That sounds nice," she said softly.
The lab door opened behind them. Briggs stepped out and walked past, heading for the stairs. He gave Gin a wary look. As the door swung closed again, Gin heard Duncan's voice.
"You've got to get me to a hospital! Now! Not later! This is an emergency!" And then the door clicked shut.
"How long before we tell him?" Gerry said.
"Tell him?" Gin said. "I'm not going to tell him. He'll figure it out sooner or later. Let the bastard stew till then."
Gerry laughed. "Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you."
She grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. "Believe that, buster. Don't ever forget it."
They kissed.
F. Paul Wilson, Implant
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