Chapter 11d05
Chapter 11 (Draft 05)
Robert was given the videotapes from the hospital hallway, the garage and stairwells. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything to see and that really surprised the detective. At first he was impressed, because the surveillance coverage was rather good in all the areas of interest to him, but sadly, the video camera for the sixth floor wasn't working when Ethan was attacked. Speaking to the officers stationed in the security room where they monitor these areas, Robert found them already troubleshooting the problem with the sixth floor camera when he arrived to interview them.
The guard on duty insisted he was watching the monitors the moment camera B6C2 failed, which as it happened took place just a few minutes before the attack took place. The trouble was eventually found in the lower basement of the garage in a raceway feeding the stairwells, and when the final verdict came in on the cause of the problem, Robert was again surprised and very concerned.
The maintenance tech reported the line gong to B6C2 had been cut, probably with diagonal pliers. After reconnecting the feed, the camera was back and on line again. The cause of the camera's failure worried Robert more than the attack itself; it seemed to take the assault on Sally's friend outside the realm of his just being in the wrong place at the wrong time and made it look like an act that was carefully planned. But why would anybody spend so much time and trouble to pick a lock on the access door and then find the exact video cable in which to cut? A simple thug wouldn't have cared enough to cover their crime, just a quick hit and run; a random victim, a fast bop on the head, the wallet taken, and gone. And the viciousness of the beating didn't make sense to Robert either. Perhaps if Ethan had put up a fight, but that didn't explain the video cable and the timing of its being cut.
Ethan was a mess. More than his concussion, broken ribs and sore groin, it would seem his attackers also broke both his left ankle and three bones in his left hand before finally taking his wallet and breaking his nose. The violence of the attack traveled quickly through the hospital, leaving its administrators scrambling to release the proper message to the public. Security was doubled in the tunnels and access levels in the garage, which to Robert was a joke. He knew these extra measures would quickly evaporate as the hospital started to feel the pinch of the extra expense and the public's concern waned.
Sally was completely dedicated to Ethan's recovery, of course. She was by his side during most of his examinations and protested little when Doctor Howard wanted to continue searching for the cause of her condition while she attended to his needs. The next day, Ethan seemed to be recovering well enough to speak to Robert and a hospital security team about the attack.
"How are you feeling today, Ethan?" Robert asked him. "With all of these pretty nurses running around and caring for you, that alone might be worth taking a broken nose."
Ethan's eyes where nearly swollen closed, but he was able to laugh a little anyway. Sally wasn't amused.
"Detective Coleman, that's not very funny. Ethan has been seriously injured. What is the police department doing to find the terrible person responsible for this assault?"
"We're interviewing all of the security staff within the hospital, Mrs. Carmichael. We're hoping somebody will remember something they didn't put in an individual reports in the hours before and after the attack. We're also looking for any patients or family members who might have left the hospital angry or upset last night. I assure you, we're tracking down every possibility."
"Well I should hope so. Attacking a good man like this, it's an abomination."
"Yes, ma'am."
Robert came around the other side of the bed. "Ethan, can you tell me anything about last night? Anything at all? Do you remember the attack?"
"No… I really don't," Ethan replied nasally. He gave a little wince as he shifted. "I honestly don't even remember leaving the hospital."
Sally looked concerned. "The doctors say his forgetfulness is probably due to the concussion. They say he may never remember the attack, God willing."
"Ah… well… that might be better for Ethan's mental state, but his inability to remember any details might hamper our finding the person who did this to him. What's the first thing you do remember?"
Ethan took a deep breath, seemingly preparing himself for the pain to his ribs as he answered. "I don't remember anything until this morning. Sorry, but even now the things that happened less than an hour ago seem a little fuzzy to me."
Robert pitched back. "That's okay; completely understandable. You lay back and let this good lady take care of you," he said, motioning to Sally who was already mothering his blankets. "Can I get you anything?"
Ethan tried to smile. "I could sure go for some of that coffee you made for me at Kari's place."
Robert grinned. "I'll see what I can do. You get some rest."
Another patient was unexpectedly wheeled into the emergency room.
"We have a TA here!" called a paramedic squeezing a bulb over an injured man's face.
Immediately, every trauma doctor and nurse went to work on the man, wheeling his stretcher into the farthest corner away from Ethan's bed. Another woman, obviously the man's wife, was limping in behind him, holding a bloody gauze to her forehead and talking about the traffic accident that brought them to the hospital.
Ethan's eyes were wide with fright as he watched all the commotion.
"Jesus, what a mess. You want me to close the curtain?" Robert asked him.
Ethan was shaking his head and then he raised his uninjured hand to point at the woman who was now crying about the state of her husband.
"Ethan, dear… what's the matter?" Sally said caringly. "Detective — Ethan shouldn't be in here with all of these disturbances, he's still recovering from his own injuries. Close the curtain, please."
"No!" Ethan insisted. He was still pointing at the woman.
Robert was suspicious. He looked over at the woman and back to Sally's friend. "What is it, Ethan. What's the matter?"
Ethan tried to sit up in his bed, the pain in his ribs hardly considered as he pointed once more. "The shoes," he mumbled through his swollen lips.
Robert looked over at the woman again. She was carrying her husband's leather shoes in a clear plastic bad. The EMTs had obviously removed the man's wingtips and given them to his wife.
"The shoes? What about them?"
"Ethan — please lay back down, dear. You're going to hurt yourself. Detective Coleman, please tell him to…"
"The shoes!" Ethan said, jerking and pointing at the bag.
Robert watched the woman set the bag down on the floor, as she walked behind the curtain to join her husband. The detective looked around cautiously and then walked over to pick up the bag. He walked them back to Ethan who followed his every step with a look of building horror. Robert finally held them up in front of Ethan to see.
"Looks like Gucci," the detective said appraisingly.
Ethan's eyes were wide with fear. He slowly lay back on his pillow, never taking his eyes off the black shoes within the bag.
"What's the matter, Ethan?" Sally asked him worriedly. "What's so important about these…"
"He was wearing shiny shoes."
"Who was?"
"He kicked me in the face with them."
Robert frowned. "You mean the man that attacked you in the garage? Was he wearing shoes like these?"
Ethan was staring frightfully at the bag. "Yes, they both wore the same shoes."
"They did? Do you mean more than one person attacked you, and they both wore shoes like this? Is that what you're trying to say?"
Ethan nodded and looked at Sally. "Like the Russians."
Robert couldn't believe his ears. "The men who attacked you were Russian? Ethan, is that what you said?"
Ethan looked at him and nodded.
Twenty minutes later Ethan was able to piece what few memories he could manage for Sally and Robert. He told them about the men in the elevator who he believed were Russian and the fact that they were wearing the same kind of shoes as the man he remembered kicking him in the face. Ethan told them he was suspicious of them because they seemed to be talking about watching Sally while she was in the hospital.
One of the hospital security men who had been listening to Ethan's story stepped forward. "I think I remember the Russians. They've been in and out for the last couple of days."
Robert was surprised. "Did you ever speak to them?"
"Well I tried to, but their English was really terrible. They said they were here to observe our daily hospital procedures, which I thought was rather strange because they never left the third floor."
"You mean the floor Sally was on."
"I checked with administration, and they confirmed we might be seeing some foreign visitors overseeing our patient care procedures. I just assumed that's who they were. I would have checked them out a little more thoroughly had I seen them moving around a bit more, but they just stayed to the third floor."
"Are they still in the building?"
"I don't know. But now that you mentioned it, I don't know that I saw them last night at all. They were here around the clock in shifts, usually just sitting around and reading magazines. Didn't seem to me they were all that interested in learning anything about hospital procedures; I don't think they were here last night though."
"Can you check?"
"Sure." The guard headed for the door and then he stopped to turn. "You know, I think we caught some pictures of them on our hallway security monitors; pretty sure we did, in fact. If they're not in the building, I'll see if I can pull a few stills for you."
"That'd be great, thanks."
Kari entered the room again. "How ya feeling, Ethan? Headache still there?"
"I think it's getting a little better."
"They're going to move you to another room for one more night." She leaned in furtively. "If you had hurt yourself in a train wreak or something the bean counters would have already kicked you out of here. But what with the attack happening on hospital property, I think they want to try and care for you a bit longer than what's normal. Those belong to Ethan?" Kari asked, pointing at the bag of shoes.
Robert walked them over to the other side of the room and quietly set them back down where he found them. He could still hear the wife crying behind the curtain. In the few steps he had taken to cross the room and back, the detective was thinking again about Mr. Hirch and his story about the Russian burglars in Sally's apartment. Robert couldn't remember having a conversation about Russians more than twice in his entire life, and yet now we had these strange stories of Russians watching Sally, maybe attacking Ethan, and then breaking into Sally's apartment. He looked up and down the hallway. He wanted those security pictures.
"Sally, were you planning on staying here at the hospital with Ethan tonight?" Robert asked her.
"Yes — absolutely."
"Sally, you don't have to do that," Ethan protested. He coughed again. "You should go home and get some rest. I think you've been in the hospital long enough."
Kari quickly looked at Robert. "Didn't you tell her about the burglary?"
The next day Howard was on the phone again. "But Mr. Bezuhov, I don't think you understand. To apply these polymorphic microsatellite markers to the genes without the woman's permission is highly unethical. We can't do that."
"Doctor Howard… we have already demonstrated a significant difference in the selected marker allele frequencies between newborn and elderly individuals. These results led to our finding the variants of klotho. Our next steps are obvious."
Howard sat down on a window ledge overlooking the city. He knew his actions were coming to a crossroad.
"Doctor, we have complete linkage disequilibrium. The amino acid substitutions will cause no permanent damage."
"We can't know that, sir. The allele containing the six variants are…"
"Of no consequence to us now. Mrs. Carmichael's extraordinary genetic markup and response to your proven theory are paramount now."
"But sir, please, you have to know…"
"The double mutant exhibits an intermediate phenotype. Yes – I DO UNDERSTAND, doctor."
There was a pause and Howard was clearly afraid. His dealings with Bezuhov had gone too far, but worse than that was knowing his benefactor wanted more.
"Doctor Howard. You already know I am a man of great means and wealth. If it wasn't obvious to you before, then let me make it clear now. You and your team are not the only ones in the world working on this project for me. To put all of my faith in one man's vision of success would be foolish, and I cannot wait for the morals of one individual to fall in line with what has become the only means left for extending my life. With Mrs. Carmichael's introduction into our research, your team has immediately vaulted into the lead in finding the cure for this curse we call aging."
Howard was somewhat surprised. "I will admit, Sally Carmichael's case changes nearly everything we thought to be true, but what you're asking me to do goes against everything I claim to be as a healer."
"My dear doctor, what you claim to be is of no concern to me. What you are is a man in my employ. We struck a bargain — and I intend to hold you to it. I'm not overpaying you to be safe, not at this stage of my life.
"You will reduce Mrs. Carmichael's level of klotho, Doctor Howard. This is the next logical step in our study of her case. If you're unwilling to do this, then our partnership is at an end and I will have somebody else administer the drug in your absence."
"But our case studies with mice have shown the drug to cause run away atherosclerosis and osteoporosis. My reports to you have proven this to be…"
"I've read your reports, doctor, but your commentary also said this did not happen in test subjects where klotho was present. This fact has pushed us both to the same conclusion: The membrane protein from the plant matter I gave to you does deter the on sloth of any aging deformities."
"Yes, it's true the mRNA expression was not detectable in any of the organs, but that doesn't mean it wasn't there."
There was another long pause.
"I am disappointed in you, Doctor Howard. You do not seem to grasp what Mrs. Carmichael has delivered to us. We have known for quite some time that klotho is regulating the cascading effects of aging. And somehow this woman is creating high levels of klotho complemented by no less than eight double mutant phenotypes under study in your lab. Your hypothesis that secretion is essential to klotho function is now out the window, doctor."
Howard was forced to agree.
"This only leaves us with one conclusion — that Mrs. Carmichael represents the next evolutionary step in the future of mankind. That makes her more valuable than all the gold in your Fort Knox."
Howard couldn't find a way to respond.
"Give her the injection, doctor. I'll expect your report on her condition and results in the morning."
"I… ah… yes, sir. I… will provide you with an update as soon as possible."
"Very good. Farewell, doctor."
"Oh — and sir?"
"Yes?"
"You wanted me to inform you about anything unusual happening at the hospital during Mrs. Carmichael's stay with us."
"Yes."
"Well, it would seem one of Mrs. Carmichael's friends was attacked in the hospital garage. The police say it was a simple robbery for cash, but…"
"Ah yes. And how is Mr. Dodge recovering?"
Howard was surprised. "You… you already knew about the incident, sir?"
"Yes."
"Oh… well… I didn't realize…"
"And his condition?"
"He's going to be fine, but he took a terrible beating. Several broken bones."
"And how is Mrs. Carmichael reacting to the incident?"
"She's very distraught, of course, which is why I thought you should know."
"Will her level of anxiety for her friend affect any of your test results?"
Howard paused again. What a strange question. "No… it should not."
"Very well; and I take it she's decided to stay with her friend in the hospital during his recovery?"
"In fact… she has. She hasn't left his side since yesterday."
"Good, this should give you the time you need to complete your final tests, yes?"
"Um, well yes. I suppose…"
"Very well. I'll expect your call tomorrow, doctor."
"Yes sir, Mr. Bezuhov. I'll speak with you again just as soon as Mrs. Carmichael's lab results are in." There was a click in his ear and then silence.
Howard slowly hung up the phone and turned to find Detective Coleman standing in the doorway.
"Oh, Robert! I… ah… didn't realize you were waiting for me."
"I wasn't, Glad. I just saw you on the phone and decided to stop. Could I have a word?"
"Yes… of course, come in. The office is on loan to me by the hospital staff; it's a little small but… would you like to sit?"
"I just need to ask you a few questions about Sally Carmichael."
Howard frowned. "Are you inquiring professionally or personally? If it's personal, I'm afraid I might be limited in what I can tell you. Matters of privacy, you understand."
"No, it's professional. Kari will fill me in on all the other stuff. It's my understanding you offered to move Sally to you facilities at the university. Why was that necessary?"
Howard raised an eyebrow.
"Sally told her friend Mr. Dodge about you wanting to move her. She seemed pretty upset about it."
"Yes, all right… an offer to join us at the university was extended to her. It was done so my staff could assist me more holistically in the search for the root cause of her condition, but I don't know why that would interest the police, Robert."
The detective seemed uneasy. "You know about the attack on Ethan, of course, on Mr. Dodge?"
"Yes… a terrible thing. I'm afraid it's shaken the hospital staff more than the public realizes."
"Yeah, I guess it would. Unfortunately, I also had to inform Sally that somebody broke into her apartment while she's been here in the hospital."
"Really? That's terrible. Was anything taken?"
"We don't think so. A neighbor was quick to call the police — no damage done. But it does make me wonder who else might know about Sally's situation here. Some of the doctors and nurses caring for her know, of course, and then there's Ethan, Kari, me… and then… there's you."
Howard reached back to sit in the chair behind the desk. "If you're asking me who I'm discussing her case with outside this hospital, Mrs. Carmichael has given me permission to share the details of our findings to my staff at the university."
"I'm going to need a list of their names, if you don't mind."
"Really? Is… is that really necessary?"
"You never know how people are going to react when they hear about a ninety three year old woman who's getting younger day by day. Given what's happened to her friend Ethan and the fact somebody has broken into her home, I'm concerned about the circle of people working with her and who they might be talking to."
"I can assure you, Robert, my staff knows better than to discuss a patient's case with anybody outside the university."
Robert nodded and then came around the desk to sit on its corner. "What about you? Have you been discussing Sally's case with anybody outside Mercy or your staff at the university?"
Howard looked surprised and then somewhat uneasy. He thought about the question a while before answering. "Robert, you should know I've always liked you. My niece means the world to me and so I've always been somewhat nosey about the men in her life since her father passed away some years ago. I've recently come to the conclusion that I like what I see in Kari since the two of you started dating and that fact has always made me appreciate you as a man… but what your insinuating hurts me, Robert. It truly does."
Robert's face darkened. While he always liked Kari's uncle, he was quick to notice the man didn't answer his question. He leaned back.
"Listen, Glad, I didn't mean to accuse you anything. I'm just trying to close all the loopholes where Sally's security might be in question. Know too that while I wasn't trying to eavesdrop when you were on the phone just now, I did hear you discussing Sally's case with someone you called… sir. Can you tell me who that was?" Howard looked surprised again.
"I think you must have misunderstood me, Robert. I didn't say 'sir', I said 'Sheil'. Sheil Sajid is a member of my team and I've been speaking to him at least twice a day about this case."
"Oh, I see. Sorry about that. It was just in passing, so I must have been mistaken about what you said. So… can I get that list, then?"
Howard still looked uncomfortable but relented. "Yes, of course."
"Thank you. Well… that was it. I know you're pretty busy with your day job and now with all of this, so I'll get out of your way. Kari really appreciates you looking out for Sally."
Howard finally smiled and then immediately used the opportunity to change the subject. "I do, but I must admit… I have my own selfish reasons for staying close to this case. It's absolutely remarkable what's happening to Mrs. Carmichael."
The detective sat back down on the corner of the desk again. "So… can you tell me… what is happening to her?"
Howard whole body seemed to relax again. "I suppose I could give you the chemistry behind all of it, or at least what we understand it to be, but without going into all of that, I personally believe we're looking at something completely shattering in human evolution."
"All that, huh? Does that mean Sally will continue to get younger?"
"Undoubtedly."
"But… how far do you think it will go? I mean… is she on her way to becoming a child again?"
Howard shook his head. "There's no way of knowing without a complete understanding of the processes she's going though."
Robert surveyed the man. "This whole thing really makes you think, doesn't it?"
"About what?"
"You know, about life and death and what it all means."
"I'm not following you."
"Well… you being a doctor, a scientist and all — that makes you a practical man, right?"
"I'd like to think so, especially where science is concerned."
"So why do you think death exists. I mean… you've got to be one of the world's foremost experts on the subject… why do we grow old and then eventually die?"
Howard looked somewhat troubled again and didn't immediately respond. He deliberated on the question for a while and when he finally answered it appeared to Robert that he had put a lot of thought into the subject.
"Like I said before, from a purely scientific point of view, I could explain what happens to the body when we age, how heredity and environmental factors eventually write out the end game for us all," Howard answered. "But I suppose the pertinent question here might be… why all of a sudden does death not exist for somebody like Sally Carmichael?" He paused again in a way that suggested to Robert he was stretching himself far beyond his practiced comfort zone.
For his part, Howard unpredictably found his mind reaching back to his childhood and to a time before the science of medicine had claimed him as one of its willing apostles. A picture of his alcoholic father came into his mind and then to himself as a young boy hiding in his closet with his books, the same books that transported him to the world outside all the yelling and the violence. Whenever Howard's mind replayed those days when he hoarded himself away from his father's drunken ranting, it always fascinated him to wonder what might have become of him had he taken a different book with him into that closet. He supposed it didn't really matter what he took from his mother's library when he went searching for solitude, but in his case it was a nurse's manual – The Care and Treatment of Common Wounds. His mother wasn't a nurse, so he never really understood why she would own a copy of such a book; maybe it was just her way of protecting her children from accidental injury; perhaps she expected her husband would someday hurt one of the three of them in some uncontrollable state of rage. Howard didn't really know.
The doctor's mind was then teleported to the old man wheezing through his clouded mask and those deadpan eyes staring up at him from out of his wing-backed chair. It was in that moment of diverse but connected thoughts that Howard came to a startling revelation. Bezuhov could just as well have been his own father if the drinking hadn't finally relieved his mother of the burden of the man decades before that moment. Howard looked to Robert again.
"Speaking outside the realm of science," he continued, "it could be that death exists because God is protecting us."
Robert frowned. "Protecting us? I don't understand. How does killing us off… protect us? That doesn't make any sense."
"It would make a lot of sense if you believed in eternal life after death; then it would make all the sense in the world. Think about how it would be if Genghis Khan never died in the thirteenth century, or if Stalin continued to live another thousand years." He thought about Bezuhov and his father again. "God might be protecting us against such tyrants."
Robert smiled. "Tyrants come in many shapes and sizes, my friend. Some might say the Pope and Bill Gates are tyrants too."
Howard grinned back at him. "I think Bill Gates should be allowed to live forever just for the sake of the email I get from my kids while at college," he chuckled. "But can any of us really trust ourselves to know how the world might be in say… ten thousand years? I doubt it. Even the Pope might become a despot if he came to understand he'd never have to die and face God's judgment."
"So let me get this straight: you believe God limits our lifespan to ensure the human race isn't enslaved in some geopolitical or religious quagmire?"
"Why not? Do you like Dan Rather enough to watch him every night for the next ten thousand years?"
Robert laughed. "No thank you.
"So you think Sally might be changing all of this? But wouldn't her living forever allow her to escape the final judgment you just mentioned? I mean… my Sunday school teacher always told us to mind our ways for fear of God's wrath. How does letting us live longer fit into his master plan?"
Howard thought for a moment. "How do you know living longer isn't part of God's wrath for us all? I doubt your Sunday school teacher would say the world today is what the Bible described as the Kingdom of God. No… I believe what we're seeing in Sally Carmichael is something truly unexpected; something different than what God intended for us."
"What?" Robert snapped, "but I thought it was God who planned everything? Wouldn't his strongest believers agree all of this has to somehow fit into his greater design?"
"I'm one of those men of which you speak, Robert. I'm a man who does believe in God's so-called greater plan for us all," Howard retorted. "However, I'm also a man who believes the Earth is much older than what the Bible tells us; I believe we did evolve from primates; I believe evolution did have a hand in where we started and where we find ourselves today. I know my opinion might run contrary to a lot of fundamentalist doctrine, but that's what I've come to believe. The Bible shouldn't be taken literally, but I do think God does exist and has a hand in the things that affect us directly."
"Interesting. So what does your battered belief system tell you about what's happening to Sally?"
There was another long pause as Howard took his time to think. He seemed to resettle himself into the chair to contemplate a proper answer. "It could be that man is taking some evolutionary leap forward, of course, and this is simply what happens to life everywhere in the cosmos." He stopped to look out the window, his mind shifting to a more ideological place. "Or it could be God's way of letting us know he's still out there and this is our sign to change our ways."
Robert laughed again. "You're kidding, right? You're not serious?"
"Why is that so hard to believe? Is it because I'm supposed to be a man of science? My titles and degrees only mean I know a little bit more than the average dunce about the greater world around us, but it doesn't mean I've lost the faith of my fathers, Robert. In fact, I would have to say my faith has been reinvigorated as of late because of my studies of the human condition and its many complexities."
"Yeah, but to say God's turning the dials on this one is…"
"Is what? Beyond his capabilities? Beyond his willingness to help us?"
"No — I was thinking it might be beyond his willingness to care. Why would he care so much about some ninety-year-old woman? Why would making her younger interest him?"
Howard grinned as he shook his head. "Because it would greatly interest us, that's why. The Lord openeth the eyes of the blind: the Lord raiseth them that are bowed down: the Lord loveth the righteous."
"Sounds vaguely familiar."
"Psalm 147:8. It means he's always there and sometimes he might use the best of us to put our attention on this fact."
"Somebody like Sally Carmichael, you mean."
"Perhaps," Howard shrugged, "and then again, it could be Mrs. Carmichael simply struck upon the right meds and food and water to make her young again; maybe she just hit the chemical lotto."
Robert smiled at the joke. "You know there might be a way to find out which is true."
"Oh? And how would we do that?"
"Well, Sally didn't rise from the dead like Lazereth from the tomb. You have to admit, her situation is a little bit different. I mean, we've heard of people rising from the dead… but I've never heard of somebody slowly getting younger."
"So?"
"So… what would happen if this woman turns into a seven year old and then gets hit by a bus? What if her body gets vaporized in a plane crash? What if somebody just walked up to her and stabbed her in the chest? You think she's gonna come back again?"
Howard smiled back. "I doubt it."
"Well then, wouldn't that tell us this wasn't part of God's plan at all, but something you described as just evolutionary? It couldn't be some miracle from God if you can cut her throat and watch her bleed to death."
Howard seemed to flinch at the picture in his mind. "But don't you think the fact she does exist is message enough this might be a part of God's plan?" He looked at Robert again and smiled. "After all, if living forever is suddenly on the table for each of us… wouldn't we be more careful with ourselves? Learn to become more ideological and perhaps, in the centuries of time suddenly given to us, mend our soiled ways?"
Robert thought about this for a moment. "Maybe. So, I guess we're back to the original question: Is God making this happen or letting this happen?"
"Well… whether it's part of his original plan or not, he's definitely letting it happen. Anything else is just a guess, but… it's certainly got my attention."
"Yeah, and everybody here at Mercy too." Robert stood. "Well, I got a call I have to make, so like I said before… I'll get out of your way. Thanks for taking the time to talk with me. Any idea when Ethan will be allowed to leave the hospital?"
"No, I don't. My focus has been exclusively on Mrs. Carmichael since she's decided to stay with Mr. Dodge."
Robert left the office highly suspicious. Howard was a nice enough guy, but the detective didn't believe his story concerning his talking to a member of his staff about Sally's case. Robert would check to see if this Sheil person really did exist, but he was certain he heard Howard calling the other person on the phone by name. In fact, he thought he called him Bezuhov. Robert thought about the name and then tried to write it down in his note pad. He wasn't sure why Howard would lie to him about talking to this man, but it did represent the smallest hole in the flow of information. What if Bezuhov turned out to be a newspaper reporter? No… that wasn't right. There was too much respect in Howard's voice when speaking to the man. He thought about the name again. Was Bezuhov a Russian name?
Robert opened his phone. He hadn't lied to Howard about needing to make a call.
"Dan? Hey… it's Robert Coleman from Seattle. I'm good, good. Your kid win that big game you were telling me about last week? Excellent! You'd better keep a candle lit for all those scouts who'll be banging on your door, huh?" Robert laughed and then motioned to Kari who he saw coming down the corridor toward him. She smiled, looked around, and then delivered a breast shaking coochie-coochie dance in the hallway as she came forward. Robert gave an eager thumbs up.
"Listen, Dan, I'm investigating something out here that I could use your help with. Do you still have access to that U.S. Visit software? Great, I'm going to email you a few pictures of some suspects we need to identify. I know I should be doing this through the proper channels, but the victim is also a friend of mine, so I thought I'd call and try to cut through the red tape." Kari stopped in front of him and frowned.
"Hey thanks, Dan. Email anything you find, all right? Perfect. And hey, if your boy gets accepted to Washington I'm gonna call you again for Husky seats, you can count on that." He laughed and flipped the phone closed.
Kari gave him a quick kiss. "Who was that?"
"Friend of mine at Homeland Security in the travel and immigration office. They store electronic copies of visitor travel documents, scanned fingerprints and the pictures of in and outbound visitors to the U.S.. He also has some really nifty recognition software he's been playing with that can link any photograph of an individual to entries within their database."
"I don't understand. Is this about the men who attacked Ethan?"
"Yeah. I got some pretty good video shots of those Russians who were hanging around in the hallway before the attack. I figured if they're foreign visitors, Dan might get a lucky hit and we could learn more about them. If nothing else, I could reach out to see if they saw anybody suspicious in or around the time of the attack."
Kari smiled at him and then came close. "You know… you are a really good detective, and here I am thinking you're just another guy with a nice ass."
Robert reached out and pulled her hips to him. "You know, I'm good at a lot of things you might not know about." He slid his hand behind to give her a squeeze on the rear.
She cooed back at him. "Oh really? And what things would you be talking about, detective?"
"Oh, for example. I'm pretty good at making love while standing up; know of a broom closet where I can show you my balancing act?"
"Detective Coleman! What makes you think I would be that kind of girl?" She turned in his arms and gave him a little bump in the groan.
He bumped her back. "Oh I don't know, just a feeling I get sometimes."
She laughed and then turned to face him again. "Hey, it looks like they're going to release Ethan today. Sally's going with him."
Robert frowned. "But I haven't had time to check out her burglary; she can't go back to her apartment yet. Burglars who hit an empty space have a tendency to go back."
"I don't think that's going to be a problem. Sally's going to mother Ethan at his place. He's going to need a lot of help getting around for a few more days."
"What about your uncle and his tests?"
"Oh — she's done with that. Now that Ethan's well enough to leave, Sally is refusing to do anything more with the doctors here. Uncle Glad is going to have to study what he's got, because there won't be anything more unless her condition changes."
"Humph, if she changes more, she'll soon be a teenager," Robert grumbled.
Kari turned to look back at him over her shoulder. She bumped him again. "What's a teenager got that I haven't got?" She smiled at him and then walked away.
Robert looked back at her. "Mmm'mm. Nothing at all, little missy, nothing at all."
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