Death Benefit

“There’s an Albanian Mafia that’s grown big in New York in the last twenty years. Very violent, very ruthless. But also very reliable, if you do business with them. Their word is their bond and all that. The FBI put a crimp in their operations in the nineties, but they’ve grown back and they’re looking to make names for themselves again. You’re going to ask, how do I know? I got this from a man who spent years of his life trying to put these guys in jail. He gave me a name.”

Jerry held out a piece of paper, folded in half, for Edmund. Edmund thrust his hands in his coat pockets and looked at Jerry.

“You’re out of your fucking mind.”

Jerry let Edmund stew for a couple of minutes. Edmund had moved down to the edge of his property and was standing, looking out at the gray water of the Sound. Jerry could imagine Edmund’s state of mind-part of him horrified to even consider such a thing, another part telling him he had no option but to consider doing it. Which side was winning? Jerry decided to play his trump card. He didn’t want to have to do this either, but again, there was no choice. He walked down to join Edmund and stood about four feet to his right, looking ahead.

“I know about you and Gloria Croft.”

“What about me and Gloria Croft? You mean personally?” Edmund waited a beat, then turned to look at Jerry, who was stony-faced and staring straight ahead.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“So you know what I’m talking about?”

“Yes, yes. Gloria and I had a . . . a thing when we were working together.”

“When you were her boss.”

“Yes, Jerry, Jesus, what does that have to do with anything?”

“You got married young, I believe.”

“I was married at the time. I admit it, I was a bad boy. I got carried away, and I wasn’t the only one who’s ever done that. You tell me you never did. But I learned my lesson. I steer very clear of bitches like her.”

“So no harm, no foul is what you’re saying, right, Edmund?”

“Jerry, I swear I have no idea what the relevance of this is. You just asked me to kill two people, for Christ’s sake.” Edmund turned his head as he said it, checking that no one had joined them. “Are you trying to put pressure on me with this?”

“There’s something I don’t think you’re aware of. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to bring this up, but it seems like you leave me no option.” Jerry looked at Edmund. He had crossed one bridge with Edmund a few minutes ago. Now he was going to burn it down.

“When you were sleeping with Gloria Croft, she got pregnant-”

“Oh, bullshit, Jerry-”

“She got pregnant, Edmund, and she had a termination, and it didn’t go well. She used a good clinic, I can give you the name, but the procedure had some serious complications. I can give you details, if you need them. She survived, but it left her sterile, so she can’t have children. And I would imagine it also left her with a lot of resentment for the man involved.”

“Why should I believe this?” Edmund’s face was dark with fury, his hands bunched into fists still thrust deep into his coat pockets, his left hand throbbing from punching the elevator door. He leaned toward Jerry, almost goading him.

“You’re trying to blackmail me? I can’t believe you.”

“The information came up quite by chance,” Jerry said. He was surprised how remarkably calm he felt. “We were looking for dirt on Gloria when we heard about this. I know someone who has contacts in the records department at certain hospitals, and he found the relevant file. The timing’s right, we checked, and there’s even a note in there saying that she only had one sexual partner. They were ruling out some STDs, so they asked. My guess is that partner was you.”

“Bullshit.”

“You use a condom every time, Edmund? She miss a bit of work around the time you stopped seeing each other? You might not remember, but I doubt you liked your analysts taking a lot of time off. And perhaps she left the company soon after that, am I right?”

Edmund sighed. He felt deflated, almost literally, as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He stared back out at the water again.

“So what will you do with this information? And I’m not saying it’s true.”

“I said just now what a lovely wife you have, what a beautiful home. It’s true, of course. I’m just pointing out to you what’s at stake here, Edmund. You might not see things as clearly as I do. We’ve all worked so hard to get what we have, and there are so many people who are jealous of us, who say we don’t deserve all this, but we both know the truth. We earned everything we have. Without us, this country would be starved of innovation. Nothing new would be created. Okay, so someone’s going to grow organs outside of the body, but not now, not when they’ll destroy this wonderful product of yours. It’s a fantastic idea that you had. And you have to protect it.”

Jerry paused.

“Now you say what I just told you is bullshit. It’s not all bullshit, is it? It can’t be. And what’s Alice going to say if she gets a note that says her husband slept with his analyst, and she got pregnant? I doubt she’s going to be placated that easily, just by telling her it’s all bullshit.”

Edmund said nothing.

“I’m telling you, these Albanian guys can make all of this go away. I assure you they have done more difficult things than this. It turns out that it’s true what they say: money really can buy you anything. Just look around you, Edmund, you just have too much to lose.”

“What about Gloria Croft?”

“Don’t worry about her,” Jerry said. “She’ll get hers when LifeDeals share price skyrockets.”

Jerry held out the piece of paper again. This time, Edmund wearily put out his hand and took the scrap, unfolded it and read it. Jerry touched him once on the shoulder with his left hand and turned and walked back toward the house. Edmund stood where he was, staring at the name written on the paper, a name that meant nothing to him, and everything.

PART II 25.

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER NEW YORK CITY MARCH 23, 2011, 12:02 P.M.

Tobias Rothman was happiest when he could work uninterrupted in the safe confines of the lab, with Dr. Yamamoto at his side. Yamamoto was like Rothman’s right arm. He could hold out a hand, and Yamamoto would know what he wanted without him having to ask for it. The two men communicated by looks and pointed fingers and sometimes, Rothman swore, by intuition. If Rothman could intuit anything as they worked together under the hood in the biosafety level-3 lab today, it was that his colleague didn’t feel so good because a couple of times he’d uncharacteristically missed Rothman’s cues. In truth, Rothman hadn’t been feeling particularly well himself for the last hour or so. He had some mild gastric distress but worse was a kind of light-headedness, as if he were walking on eggshells. It had started about an hour after their coffee break at nine. They’d been in the unit since six.

Rothman looked over at Yamamoto. He was facing the wall, resting his hands on the lab bench, breathing hard. Yamamoto turned to look at Rothman, and Rothman could see that he was shivering. With a hood and mask, all Rothman could see of Yamamoto’s face were his eyes, which reflected fear. Suddenly Rothman felt it too, and began to shiver himself. It was as if he’d just jumped into a bath of ice water, yet he was sweating, and he felt nauseous. It was impossible that what flashed through his mind could be happening-they’d taken all their usual