Laura turned his face to hers.
'Eric, don't you see? The man had an intensive care unit in his basement. Why would he have that if he only dealt with corpses? He was transporting bodies, all right, but I don't think they were dead ones.'
'Let's see if we can break one of these entries down,' he said.
When they had finished, they rewrote the item, filling in as much information as they could.
P.F. March 19
Treated by W 'transferred by C.
Arrived Gates of Heaven March 21
Departed March 24 Cost to Gates of Heaven $200 transportation ' Ca ecei $511 On costs (s or Pts Plus meals 7btal $711 ($200 + $511) Balance due $561 ($150 advance payment) Paid April '- The initials heading each entry were different, but the abbreviations W and C. were present in every item, except for the last four. Three of those four, including P.T were treated by C. and transferred_ by C. The fourth, coded L.L was incomplete.
As they studied each item, other patterns began to emerge as well.
Each case spanned four or five days, from the initial date through transfer to the Gates of Heaven two days later, and ending with transport, Presumably to southeastern Utah, two three days after that.
'This is incredible,' Eric muttered over and over.
'This is absolutely incredible.'
'These people listed here weren't dead, were they?'
'I don't think so.'
'What could Devine have been up to?'
'I'm not sure he was up to anything-at least not on his own. He was a strange little duck, but unless he was an absolute Jekyll and Hyde, it's hard to imagine him doing anything but taking orders from someone and getting paid.'
'I agree.' She walked across the room and back.
'Eric,' she asked finally, 'do you think Devine could have had anything to do with Caduceus?'
He pushed away from the table and looked up at her. Since their earlier conversation, and her description of Devine's macabre basement chamber, that notion had been drifting in and out of his thoughts as well.
'If all of these initials correspond to WMH patients, I think you may have something,' he said.
'With these dates, it shouldn't be too hard to check outspecially if I can get into the record room, or at least tap into the record room computers. Wouldn't that be something.' He pounded his fist into his hand.
'Goddam but wouldn't that just beat all.'
Laura's face was glowing.
'Eric,' she said, 'I think he was part of them. I really do.'
At eight-thirty they packed up Donald Devine's material and opened the bottle of Chardonnay that Laura had picked up for them.
'Tell me something,' Eric asked. 'Why do you think someone tried to kill you yesterday?'
'I don't really know,' she said. 'Bernard thinks the people Scott was after still believe I'm a threat because I can locate that tape.
If they thought I already had it, they'd have tried to capture me, then kill me later. Now he says I shouldn't leave this place until he gets back from Utah. But, Eric, I won't last a day cloistered in here.'
'You've got to do what he says.'
'I don't. Listen, I'm the one who started this by coming here.
It's my brother we're after. I need to do something.'
'Look, just give me till tomorrow morning. I'm going to find a way to screen the files in the record room. Afterward, depending on what I find, we'll make some sort of move… and we'll do it together.'
'What if the people at the hospital know you've been suspended and don't let you have access to the records?'
'It wouldn't surprise me if Caduceus has already seen to that,' he said.
'But I'm not planning on going anywhere near the record room.
If I'm correct, the whole system's computerized.'
'Explain.'
'Give me a minute,' he said, picking up the phone.
Laura listened as he called the White Memorial emergency room and spoke to a nurse who was obviously a good friend. In just the minute he had promised, he hung up, having obtained the access password to the WMH records.
'It's FILE-RITE,' he said. 'Cute, huh? The password's 'all over the hospital, because every floor and nurses station needs access to the records.'
'You mean anyone from anywhere can call in and get anyone else's medical record?'
'It's not that easy. There's probably a call-back built into the security system to prevent unauthorized outside callers from getting in.
It requires the caller to type in his phone number, and then checks it against an aPProved file and either hangs up or returns the call.'
'SO You've got to use a computer inside the hospital?'
'Exactly.'
'For how long?'
'Dunno. It depends on how complete the user menu for the records department is. If it's real complete-and I think it is-I may need only a couple of hours to do what I have to.'
'But here in the hospital can you work that long without somebody seeing you?'
He pulled her to him.
'Remember my friend Subarsky-the one I built the laser with?'
'The one you grew up with in Watertown.'
'Exactly. He has an IBM that's connected to the hospital system, and he's probably good enough with computers to fill in the million or so blanks in my knowledge.'
'Well, I promise to stay put if you promise to be careful.' He traced the lines of her perfect mouth with his fingertip.
'And I promise to be careful if you promise to let me at that smooth little place just below… ' She cupped her hand to his lips as she undid the top few buttons of his shirt. Then suddenly she pulled away and raced up the ladder to the loft. Before Eric could react, her sweater floated down onto his lap.
Seconds later her jeans followed.
'Can you make it up here with your injuries?' she called out.
'I can,' he said. 'In fact, if this meteor shower continues, I may not need the ladder.'
He left his clothes at the foot of the ladder and climbed up to the loft. Laura lay naked on the futon, her chin resting on her hands as she stared out the half-moon window at the river. Beneath the soft glow of light reflected off the ceiling, her slim, long body was like a sculptor's masterpiece.
She turned to him. 'Does it frighten you that I'm falling in love with you?' she whispered.
'The only thing that frightens me is realizing I've never let myself feel anything until now,' he said.
For an hour they made love-desperately at first, then with such slow, exquisite tenderness that before long it seemed neither of them could survive another touch. Finally, locked in each other's arms, they slept, their breathing and their bodies working in gentle, perfect harmony.
Six miles away, in East Boston, Rocky DiNucci shuffled into a phone booth, laughing to himself. Crumpled in his hands was a poster he had torn off the side of a warehouse on the docks.
'Rocky the elephant,' he cackled. 'They call me punchy, but what do they know? Yessiree, yessiree.
'Rocky the elephant. That's me.'
He dropped a coin into the phone, smoothed the poster out, and dialed. it At five thirty En-c was up, alternately pacing about the apartment and ponng over the ledger taken from Donald Devine. After a peaceful hour in Laura's arms, visions of Anna Delacroix, the death's-head mask, and Verdi lying dead in his sink began intruding on his sleep.
Surviving as an emergency physician had meant becoming somewhat inured to the ugliness and brutality in the world, to the sad results of man's capability for violence, selfdestruction, and a myriad of unfeeling acts. But
