Page 25 of Acceptable Risk


  Looking back at the diary, Kim searched for a record of Elizabeth’s first meeting with Ronald. She found it on 22 October 1681, a day of sunshine and falling leaves.

  I met today in our common room Mr. Ronald Stewart who proposes to be my husband. He is older than I supposed and has already a young daughter from a wife who died with the pox. He appears to be a good man, strong of mind and body albeit a hint of a choleric disposition when he heard that the Polks, our neighbors to the north had been attacked two nights before. He insists we move forthwith in our sundry plans.

  Kim felt a twinge of guilt concerning some of her earlier suspicions of Ronald with this revelation of the cause of Ronald’s first wife’s death. Flipping ahead in the diary to 1690, Kim read more about fears of smallpox and Indian raids. Elizabeth wrote that the pox was rampant in Boston and that devastating raids from the red savages were occurring a mere fifty miles north of Salem.

  Kim shook her head in awe. Reading about such tribulations brought to mind Edward’s remarks about how tenuous life’s threads were back in the seventeenth century. It had to have been a difficult and stressful life.

  The sound of the door banging open startled Kim. She looked up to see Edward and Stanton returning from their visit to the nearly complete lab. Edward was carrying blueprints.

  “This place looks as bad as when I left,” Edward said in a disgruntled tone of voice. He was looking for a spot to put down his plans. “What have you been doing, Kim?”

  “I’ve had a wonderful bit of luck,” Kim said excitedly. She scraped back her chair and brought the notebook over to Edward. “I found Elizabeth’s diary!”

  “Here in the cottage?” Edward asked with surprise.

  “No, in the castle,” Kim said.

  “I think we should be making more progress getting the house in order before you go back to your paper chase,” Edward said. “You’ll have the whole month to indulge yourself up there.”

  “This is something even you will find fascinating,” Kim said, ignoring Edward’s remarks. She carefully opened the notebook to the last entry. Handing it to Edward and indicating the passage, she told him to read.

  Edward put his blueprints on the game table Kim had been using. As he read the entry his face gradually changed from vexation to surprised interest.

  “You’re right,” he said eagerly. He gave the book to Stanton.

  Kim told them both to be more careful with it.

  “That will make a great introduction to the article I plan to write for Science or Nature about the scientific causes of the afflictions in the Salem witch trials,” Edward said. “It’s perfect. She even talks specifically about using the rye. And the description of the hallucinations is right on target. Putting that diary entry together with the results of the mass spec on her brain sample closes the case. It’s elegant.”

  “You’re not writing an article about the new mold until the patent situation is more secure,” Stanton said. “We’re not about to take any chances so you can amuse yourself with your research colleagues.”

  “Of course I won’t,” Edward said. “What do you think I am? An economic two-year-old?”

  “You said it, I didn’t,” Stanton said.

  Kim took the diary from Stanton and pointed out to Edward the part about Elizabeth teaching others to make dolls. She asked him if he thought that was significant.

  “You mean in relation to the missing evidence?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Hard to say,” Edward said. “I suppose it is a little suspicious. . . . You know, I’m famished. What about you, Stanton? Could you eat something?”

  “I can always eat,” Stanton said.

  “How about it, Kim?” Edward said. “How about throwing something together? Stanton and I still have a lot to go over.”

  “I’m hardly set up for entertaining,” Kim said. She’d not even ventured to glance into the kitchen.

  “Then order in,” Edward said. He began unrolling his blueprints. “We’re not picky.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Stanton said.

  “I suppose I could make some spaghetti,” Kim said as she mentally reviewed what she’d need. The one room that was reasonably organized was the dining room; before the renovation it had been the old kitchen. The dining table and chairs and breakfront were all in place.

  “Spaghetti would be perfect,” Edward said. He had Stanton hold the blueprints while he weighted the corners with books.

  With a sigh of relief, Kim slipped between her crisp, clean sheets for her first night’s rest in the cottage. From the moment she’d started making the spaghetti to a half hour previously when she’d stepped into the shower, she’d not stopped working. There was still a lot to do, but the house was in reasonable order. Edward had worked equally as hard once Stanton finally left.

  Kim lifted Elizabeth’s diary off her night table. She fully intended to read more of it, but as she lay back into her bed, she became aware of the sounds of the night. The most notable was the remarkably loud symphony of nocturnal insects and frogs that inhabited the surrounding forest, marshes, and fields. There were also the gentle creaks from the aged house as it radiated off the heat absorbed during the day. Finally there was the subtle moan of the breeze from the Danvers River wafting through the casement windows.

  As her mind calmed, Kim realized that the mild anxiety she’d felt when she’d first arrived at the house that afternoon still lingered. It had merely been overwhelmed by her subsequent intense activity. Although Kim guessed there were several sources of her unease, one was obvious: Edward’s unexpected request to sleep apart. Although she understood his point of view better now than when the subject had first come up, Kim was still disturbed and disappointed.

  Putting Elizabeth’s diary aside, Kim climbed back out of bed. Sheba flashed her an exasperated look, since she’d been fast asleep. Kim slipped her feet into her mules and crossed to Edward’s bedroom. His door was slightly ajar and his light was still on. Kim pushed the door open only to be confronted by a deep growl from Buffer. Kim gritted her teeth; she was learning to dislike the ungrateful mutt.

  “Is there a problem?” Edward asked. He was propped up in bed with the lab blueprints spread around him.

  “Only that I miss you,” Kim said. “Are you sure about this idea of sleeping apart? I’m feeling lonely, and it’s not very romantic to say the least.”

  Edward beckoned her over. He cleared the bed of the plans and patted the edge for her to sit down.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It is all my fault. I take full responsibility. But I still think it is best for now. I’m like a piano wire about to break. I even lost my cool with Stanton, as you saw.”

  Kim nodded while examining her hands tucked into her lap. Edward reached out and raised her chin.

  “Are you OK?” he asked.

  Kim nodded again, yet she was struggling with her emotions. She guessed she was overtired.

  “It’s been a long day,” Edward said.

  “I guess I also feel a little uneasy,” Kim said.

  “What about?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” Kim admitted. “I suppose it has something to do with what happened to Elizabeth and with this being Elizabeth’s house. I can’t forget the fact that some of my genes are also Elizabeth’s genes. Anyway, I sense her presence.”

  “You’re exhausted,” Edward reminded her. “When you’re tired your imagination can do crazy things. Besides, this is a new place and that’s bound to upset you to a degree. After all, we’re all creatures of habit.”

  “I’m sure that’s part of it,” Kim said, “but it’s not all.”

  “Now don’t start getting weird on me,” Edward said with a chuckle. “I mean, you don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”

  “I never have in the past, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  Kim laughed at his seriousness. “Of course I’m kidding,” she said. “I don’t believe in ghosts, but
I am changing my opinion about the supernatural. The way I found Elizabeth’s diary gives me chills when I think about it. I’d just hung up Elizabeth’s portrait when I felt compelled to go back to the castle. And once I got there I didn’t have to look very hard. It was in the first trunk I opened.”

  “People get a sense of the supernatural just being here in Salem,” Edward said with a laugh of his own. “It has to do with that old witchcraft nonsense. But if you want to believe some mystical force guided you up to the castle, that’s fine. Just don’t ask me to subscribe to it.”

  “How else can you explain what happened?” Kim said fervently. “Prior to today I’d spent thirty-plus hours without so much as finding something from the sixteen hundreds much less Elizabeth’s diary. What made me look in that specific trunk?”

  “OK!” Edward said soothingly. “I’m not going to try to talk you out of it. Calm down. I’m on your side.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kim said. “I didn’t mean to get all worked up. I just came in here to tell you that I missed you.”

  After a lingering goodnight kiss, Kim left Edward to his blueprints and stepped from the room. After closing Edward’s door she was bathed in moonlight coming through the half-bath window. From where she was standing she could see the black brooding mass of the castle silhouetted against the night sky. She shuddered; the scene reminded her of the backdrop of classic Dracula movies which used to terrify her as a teenager.

  After descending the dark, enclosed staircase that took a full one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, Kim navigated through a sea of empty boxes that filled the foyer. Stepping into the parlor, she looked up at Elizabeth’s portrait. Even in the dark Kim could see Elizabeth’s green eyes glowing as if they had an inner light.

  “What are you trying to tell me?” Kim whispered to the painting. The instant she’d looked at it the feeling that Elizabeth was trying to give her a message came back in a rush along with a clear understanding that whatever the message was, it wasn’t in the diary. The diary was only a tease to goad Kim to further effort.

  A sudden movement out of the corner of Kim’s eye brought a stifled scream to her lips, and her heart leaped in her chest. She raised her arms by reflex to protect herself, but then quickly lowered them. It was only Sheba leaping onto the game table.

  Kim supported herself for a moment against the table. Her other hand was over her chest. She was embarrassed about the degree of her terror. It also indicated to her how tense she really was.

  11

  * * *

  Early September 1994

  THE lab was finished, stocked with reagents, and opened during the first full week in September. Kim was glad. Although she had the month off and was available to sign receipts for the hundreds of daily deliveries, she was glad to be relieved of the duty. The person who relieved her was Eleanor Youngman.

  Eleanor was the first person to start work officially in the lab. Several weeks previously she’d given her notice to Harvard that she was relinquishing her postdoctorate position, but it had taken her almost two weeks to wrap up all her projects and move to Salem.

  Kim’s relationship with Eleanor improved but not drastically. It was cordial but stiff. Kim recognized that there was animosity on Eleanor’s part born of jealousy. At their first meeting Kim had intuitively sensed that Eleanor’s reverence for Edward included an unexpressed longing for a more personal relationship. Kim was amazed that Edward was blind to it. It was also a point of minor concern for her given her father’s history of licentious relationships with his so-called assistants.

  The next occupants to arrive at the lab were the animals. They came midweek in the dead of the night. Edward and Eleanor supervised the unloading of the unmarked trucks and getting the menagerie of animals into the appropriate cages; Kim preferred to watch from the window of the cottage. She couldn’t see much of what was going on, but that was fine with her. Animal studies bothered her even though she understood their necessity.

  Heeding the advice of the contractor and architect, Edward had established a policy that the less the community knew about what went on at the lab the better. He did not want any trouble with zoning laws or animal rights groups. This policy was aided by the natural insulation the compound enjoyed: a dense forest ringed with a high fence separated it from the surrounding community.

  Toward the end of the first full week in September the other researchers began to arrive. With Edward and Eleanor’s assistance they secured rooms at the various bed and breakfast establishments sprinkled in and around Salem. Part of the contractual agreement with the researchers was that they come alone; they left their families temporarily behind to ease the stress of working around the clock for several months. The incentive was that everyone would become a millionaire once their stock was vested.

  The first out-of-town member of the team to arrive was Curt Neuman. It was midmorning and Kim was in the cottage, preparing to leave for the castle, when she heard the muffled roar of a motorcycle. Going to the window, she saw a cycle glide to a stop in front of the house. A man of approximately her age dismounted and lifted the visor of his helmet. A suitcase was strapped to the back of the bike.

  “Can I help you?” Kim called out through the window. She assumed it was a delivery person who’d missed the turnoff to the lab.

  “Excuse me,” he said in an apologetic voice that had a mild Germanic timbre. “Perhaps you can help me locate the Omni lab.”

  “You must be Dr. Neuman,” Kim said. “Just a minute. I’ll be right out.” Edward had mentioned an accent when he’d told Kim he was expecting Curt that day. She hadn’t expected the renowned researcher to arrive by motorcycle.

  Kim quickly closed some fabric sample books left open on the game table and picked up several days’ worth of newspapers strewn over the couch in anticipation of inviting Curt Neuman in. Checking herself briefly in the foyer mirror, she opened the door.

  Curt had removed his helmet and was cradling it in his arm like a medieval knight. But he wasn’t looking in Kim’s direction. He was looking toward the lab. Edward had apparently heard the motorcycle and was barreling along the dirt road in his car on his way to the cottage. He pulled up, jumped out, and embraced Curt as if they were long-lost brothers.

  The two men talked briefly about Curt’s metallic-red BMW motorcycle until Edward realized Kim was standing in the doorway. He then introduced Kim to Curt.

  Kim shook hands with the researcher. He was a large man, two inches taller than Edward, with blond hair and cerulean blue eyes.

  “Curt’s originally from Munich,” Edward said. “He trained at Stanford and UCLA. Many people, including myself, think he’s the most talented biologist specializing in drug reactions in the country.”

  “That’s enough, Edward,” Curt managed to say as his face blushed red.

  “I was lucky to steal him away from Merck,” Edward continued. “They wanted him to stay so badly that they offered to build him his own lab.”

  Kim watched in sympathy as poor Curt squirmed in the face of Edward’s encomium, reminding her of their own reactions to Stanton’s praise during the dinner when they’d first met. Curt seemed surprisingly bashful for his commanding size, model-like good looks, and reputed intelligence. He avoided eye contact with Kim.

  “Enough of this blabber,” Edward said. “Come on, Curt! Follow me with that death-wish machine of yours. I want you to see the lab.”

  Kim watched them caravan across the field toward the lab before she went back inside the house to finish what she had to do before heading up to the castle.

  Later that day, just as Kim and Edward were finishing a light lunch, the second out-of-town researcher arrived. Edward heard the car drive up. Pushing back from the table, he went outside. Shortly afterward he returned with a tall, thin, but muscular man in tow. He was swarthy and handsome and appeared to Kim more like a professional tennis player than a researcher.

  Edward introduced them. His name was François Leroux. To Kim’s surprise h
e made a motion to kiss the back of her hand, but he didn’t actually do it. All she felt was the light caress of his breath on her skin.

  As he’d done with Curt, Edward gave Kim a brief but highly complimentary summary of François’s credentials. But unlike Curt, François had no trouble hearing Edward’s praise. While Edward went on and on, he’d locked his dark, piercing eyes on Kim in a manner that made her squirm.

  “The fact of the matter is that François is a genius,” Edward was saying. “He’s a biophysicist originally from Lyons, France, who trained at the University of Chicago. What sets him off from his colleagues is that he has managed to specialize in both NMR and X-ray crystallography. He’s managed to combine two technologies which are usually competitive.”

  Kim noticed a slight smile had appeared on François’s face at this point in Edward’s accolade. He also bowed his head in Kim’s direction as if to emphasize that he was everything Edward was saying and more. Kim looked away. She had the feeling that François was a bit too sophisticated and forward for her taste.

  “François will be responsible for our saving a lot of time with the Ultra research,” Edward continued. “We’re truly lucky to have him. It’s France’s loss and our gain.”

  A few minutes later Edward led François from the house to take him to the lab. He was eager for François to see the facility and meet Curt. Kim watched them climb into Edward’s car from the window. She couldn’t help marvel how such widely disparate personalities could end up doing such similar work.

  The last two of the core researchers arrived Saturday, September 10. They arrived by train from Boston. Edward and Kim went together as a welcoming committee and were standing on the platform as the train pulled into the station.

  Edward saw them first and waved to get their attention. As they walked toward Edward and Kim, Kim jokingly asked Edward if physical attractiveness had been one of the requirements for employment at Omni.