It was the odor that hit her first. She opened the door of the mailbox and let out a scream.
For one hideous moment that telescoped her horror, all she could think was Silky. But a voice inside reminded her that she had just let him out the back door—that he was in the backyard still stalking starlings.
In a microsecond reprieve her mind scrambled—no white patch, no white patch … wider nose …
Staring out at her from inside the mailbox was the severed head of a black cat.
25
“IT WAS GODDAMN SICK,” RENE SAID.
“Of course it was,” Nick said with a dismissive shrug. “But maybe it was just some random prank.”
“Nick, it was no random prank, and you know it. Someone’s trying to intimidate me into lying. And I’m ready to go to the police.”
“I can understand. But you have no proof who did it.”
“Well, it wasn’t my mailman.”
It was later that day. And Nick, who was at Mass General catching up on work as he often did on weekends, had convinced her to drive to town and jog with him down the Esplanade along the Charles. It was what they did whenever Rene visited one of her Boston-area nursing homes. This time it was to get out of her place.
But she couldn’t leave the cat head in the mailbox for the deliveryman. So, fighting the rise of her gorge, she used a stick to pull it into a paper bag. She hosed out the mailbox, buried the bag in her backyard, and then threw up the contents of her stomach.
“If you go storming into Carter Lutz’s office, he’s only going to deny it and make it difficult with your boss.”
“He already did. I called him at home and told him what happened. He said that he had no idea what I was talking about. Half an hour later I got a voice message from my district manager at CommCare saying that he had gotten a call from the VP of Health Net regarding my overreacting to policy issues. Overreacting! They put a fucking cat’s head in my mailbox and I’m supposed to look the other way.”
“Did you mention the video to anyone?”
“Not yet.”
“Or the cat’s head?”
“Just Carter Lutz.”
“Good.”
“Good
“Good you didn’t take this any further.”
Rene wasn’t sure why, and Nick was turning something over in his head. So they jogged in silence for a few moments. Because Nick was more than twice Rene’s age and thirty pounds overweight, their pace was leisurely. It was also a warm September afternoon and many sailboats were on the river. In the late afternoon sun the trophy buildings of MIT squatted like ancient gilded temples rising above the trees of Memorial Drive.
“You want my advice?”
“Of course.”
“Drop it. You don’t know who did this. It could be anybody at Broadview as well as friends and associates of them. And it’s simply not worth running around accusing people. Yes, it was sick and crude, but the gesture reads more of desperation than menace.”
He was right that it could be anybody. Most of the people she worked with knew that Rene owned a black cat. A photo of Silky hung from a tag on her laptop case and she occasionally wore her cat pin. “But this was well planned. Somebody went to the trouble of finding another black cat at some animal shelter or they stole some kid’s pet and decapitated it, then sneaked out to my place in the middle of the night and put the thing in my mailbox. We’re talking health care professionals, and that scares the hell out of me. What else are they capable of?”
“I understand.”
“It was a warning to shut me up or scare me into quitting my job.”
“Well, it won’t happen again.”
While she wanted to take refuge in his assurance, she couldn’t. “Look, I have to continue working with these people, smiling and acting normal, all the while wondering which of them did it and when they’re going to strike again—and how.”
“I don’t think it was any of them.”
“But I don’t know that.”
He gave his head a shake to dismiss her concerns. “Back to the issue. Going to the police would guarantee blowing up everything, the upshot being the termination of the trials. And that’s what this is all about. You know how anal the FDA is about protocol. One hint of impropriety, and Memorine would be back-burnered for years. Meanwhile, somebody else would try to get their look-alike on the market, and GEM would be down the tube.”
“So it’s all about saving GEM’s ass.”
“We’re going around in circles again.”
“In other words, look the other way.”
“Only because there are more important issues at stake, like our patients.”
“Someone threatened me, Nick.”
He looked at her directly. “I know, and that will not happen again.”
The intensity of his look was almost startling. She didn’t have his certitude but let that pass. “What about setting myself up for a perjury charge?”
“First of all, nobody can prove you saw the tape. Second, my guess is that it will be settled before it ever gets to court.” Then, as if reading her mind, he added, “I know you don’t like lying, but sometimes we have to overlook minor violations for a higher good. You’ve seen the results, right?”
“Yes, they’re remarkable. I also feel guilty about the Zuchowsky family.”
“Unfortunately, they can’t get their son back. But I’m sure they’ll want to avoid trench warfare and would probably agree to a settlement. Besides, what good would it do if the Zuchowskys knew that Clara let herself out instead of slipping through a faulty security system? Tort lawyers would turn this into a juicy malpractice case that would bring a sympathetic jury to its knees and send everybody straight to litigation hell, including you. And three years later you’d probably be jobless and in debt for life.”
“But denying that Clara Devine was a subject in a clinical trial violates a whole slew of regulations designed to protect patients and prevent litigation. And now we’re agreeing to perjuring ourselves.”
“Maybe the lesser of two evils. So, go to the lawyers and tell them what everybody else is telling them, that you know nothing—just to get it behind you.”
“But the legal back-and-forthing could drag on for years.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
She looked at him. “Nick, what are you telling me?”
His expression softened. “That I really didn’t want to retire.”
She stopped in her tracks. “You’re taking the offer?”
“What the hell, I’d get bored otherwise. Besides, look at the mess they got themselves into. Maybe I can put some pressure on them.”
She had been after him to accept Moy’s offer as chief principal investigator from the start. “That’s great. And maybe you can keep their act clean.”
“Whatever. I’m not signing any papers until this Clara Devine thing is behind us.”
They started jogging again. “Any idea who’s behind the cat head?”
“My guess is no one you know. But nothing like that will happen again.”
She glanced at him, thinking that dear old Professor Nick Mavros carried more guns than she had imagined.
26
JACK CONTINUED IN A PROFOUND SLEEP.
