Paige flicked her blue eyes from name plate to number, trying to find her way. Clearly, she hadn’t had occasion to visit Georg Dumenco before.
When they reached his office, though, the Ukrainian scientist was there in person, despite his radiation exposure. Dumenco looked up, startled, as he sifted through a whirlwind of papers and printouts on his desk. File drawers were opened and ransacked, and his bloodshot eyes looked wild.
“Dr. Dumenco, what are you doing here?” Craig asked.
“This is my office,” Dumenco answered indignantly. He swallowed hard, then held onto the edge of his desk for support.
“You’re supposed to be in the hospital,” Paige said.
“I need my work, the results from my last test run. My graduate student Bretti isn’t here. He’s supposed to be on vacation, but I can’t reach him… he’s on a fishing trip somewhere, out of touch-and I don’t know how he files his records.” With an angry gesture, Dumenco slapped a pile of old memos and unopened mail on the floor.
Craig went forward to grasp his arm. “You drove here by yourself? I need to take you back to Trish-uh, I mean, Dr. LeCroix.” Paige’s eyes widened as she made the connection, but she didn’t say anything.
Dumenco shook off Craig’s grip and unsteadily drew himself up. “I am dying from radiation exposure, sir. My body is falling apart rapidly, and very soon I won’t be able to stand. I must use every moment of clarity left to me. Once I get back into that hospital bed, I know I’ll never leave.” He drew a thick breath. “This may be the last time I’ll set foot in my office-and I need my papers so I can keep… occupied.”
Craig gripped the decidedly unsteady scientist, and Paige helped usher Dumenco out of his office. “I’ll get you everything you need,” she said. “We’ll go through your files and find the printouts from your last test run.”
“I’m driving you back to the hospital,” Craig said, tolerating no argument. Dumenco seemed ready to resist until Craig added, “I need you to stay alive long enough to help me solve this case.”
On the drive from Fermilab toward the Fox River Medical Center, Craig watched Dumenco brood in the car. The dying scientist longingly stared at the lab buildings, the low ring that marked the underground particle accelerator, the small, restless herd of buffalo behind their rickety fences.
Craig used their private time to discuss the case. The Ukrainian looked at him with watery, glassy eyes that were bleary and pinkish from thousands of tiny hemorrhages. Inside his body, the damage had already been done-cells were dying in droves, his internal organs were failing; soon his thought processes would also suffer, making him delusional or incoherent.
The worst part was that the great scientist
“Now then, sir, let us discuss this case,” Dumenco said. He tried to smile through cracked lips. “You put me in a difficult position. I have very little time left to complete my work, or to help you solve my murder. Which do you believe is more important-progress or revenge?‘’
“I’d call it
Dumenco was silent for a moment. “In the grand scheme I think you’ve found the difference. My life is more than just a drop in a tiny pond in a vast universe. Justice is what I really want.”
Craig followed a cement mixer and a dump truck leaving the Main Injector construction site. “And that’s what I’m here for. Let’s solve this case quickly so you can use any remaining time on your physics.”
“A good plan, kind sir.”
“All right,” Craig answered. “This morning we went to the site of your accident and also viewed the crater left by the blockhouse explosion. Dr. Piter walked us through the details. My partner, Agent Goldfarb, is right now looking at one of the intact substations to see if he can pick up any clues.”
“I know nothing of the explosion,” Dumenco said, stifling a cough. “I know only that someone intentionally caused the beam dump, and that I am paying the price for it.”
Craig wished he had been able to take out his notepad.
“So why would someone want to kill you?”
“I have done many things in my career, Agent Kreident.” Dumenco’s voice was strong but carried a hint of hoarseness from phlegm building up in his throat and lungs. “I left the Ukraine during the downfall of the Soviet Union. I abandoned my career and all my research, and I came here to work as a high-energy physicist. Your American government has been very kind, but I have paid a high price.”
Craig made a mental note. “And were you welcome here, or did some of the other physicists resent your background?‘’
“On the contrary, I was most heartily welcomed. Fermilab is accustomed to international collaborations. After the Soviet collapse, your government was most eager for me to use my talents for your benefit, rather than some less desirable country. They allowed me to work here… without hassle, and without the usual paperwork that comes with being a foreign national. The United States values scientific talent.”
Dumenco cleared his throat, then delicately spat into a wadded handkerchief he withdrew from his pocket. Craig could see flecks of blood in the spittle before the scientist quickly tucked the cloth away.
“The Russians were quite… upset after I had fled. My recent work has apparently made some people very nervous. I received veiled threats, but I was promised protection by your State Department. However, it seems someone has managed to kill me anyway, here on the eve of my Nobel nomination.”
The Ukrainian closed his reddened eyes and took a deep breath. “Did you know the Committee is not allowed to give a Nobel Prize to a dead man? I hope I don’t miss my chance.”
Craig stopped at a traffic signal, watched the trucks and cars bustling through the center of Aurora. Tall brick buildings lined the narrow main street, coffee shops and greasy-spoon cafes at street level; several blocks away from the downtown area, old suburban houses sat on broad, grassy lots.
“What about your graduate student, Mr. Bretti?” Craig asked, focusing on the case again. “Was he aware of these threats on your life? Did he feel himself in any danger for assisting you?”
Dumenco gave a wan smile. “No, Bretti would never have been a target. He is a big talker, and often indignant, but the truth is he has not managed to complete his thesis during the seven years he has assisted me, and I doubt he ever will.” He snorted. “I hope he is a better fisherman than a scientist, otherwise he will have a very disappointing vacation.”
Inside the Medical Center, Trish LeCroix met them like a mother hen, scolding Dumenco for leaving her. She helped Craig whisk him off to his hospital room. The old physicist endured her ministrations as she took his blood pressure, temperature, heart and respiratory rate, and prodded him into changing back into his hospital gown. She made a point of taking his street clothes, his keys, and his wallet, so she could put them in a hospital locker.
Dumenco seemed penitent. “Dr. LeCroix is a bossy woman, Agent Kreident. She seemed so nice when I knew her in the Ukraine.”
Craig smiled. “Trish doesn’t like to deal with anything unexpected.”
She made an indignant noise. “Listen, Georg-I’m here to help you, and I’m the best radiation-exposure physician you’re going to get. If you’d like, I can just let you back into the hands of a general practitioner.”
Dumenco actually chuckled as she herded him into the bed. He pulled the sheet up, but Trish kept his bare arm available. “You’re dehydrated. I’m hooking you up to a saline drip.” She looked at the physicist, then at Craig, placing her hands on her hips. “All right, I’ll leave you two to keep talking-but no more sightseeing!” Moving like a true professional, Trish hurried out of the room to fetch IV supplies and a bag of normal saline.
The Ukrainian rolled closer to the tray table that separated him from Craig. Someone had set out a small plastic chess set with magnetized pieces, all the chess men lined up in perfect ranks.
“Let’s have a game while we continue our conversation, kind sir,” Dumenco suggested. Craig noticed that the skin on his forehead was white and scaly. “Do you play?”
Craig looked down at the pieces as his thoughts spun.
Dumenco waved a swollen hand. “I just want to occupy my mind. It will take all of my concentration to keep my thoughts sharp and focused… until the very end.”
The scientist chose white and moved first, picking up the little plastic piece and sliding it across the squares. “For a game like this it seems we should be using a fine onyx and jade set, don’t you think?” Dumenco raised his eyebrows. “After all, I must savor the niceties of life, while I can.”
