when I saw him shortly after, he was unreachable - stuporous. His response to Thorazine was strange, too: up and down, like a roller coaster. And he developed premature neurological reactions to his medications, the kind of thing you usually see in patients who've been treated for years. The more I thought about it, the more toxic it sounded; something, some foreign substance, was making his nervous system go haywire. I raised the point with Dr. Mainwaring but abandoned it because he assured me he'd tested Jamey for all the common narcotics. But afterward - alter I left your team, Mr. Souza - I couldn't stop thinking about how wrong everything seemed. Off kilter. I started wondering if there was some other class of drugs that Mainwaring hadn't tested for - something a doctor wouldn't normally think of because it was rarely abused. I tried to call Mainwaring to talk to him about it but wasn't able to reach him. In fact, I'd started to think he might be avoiding me -perhaps at your request, Mr Souza. But today I called Canyon Oaks, and his secretary said she hadn't heard from him in days and was starting to get worried. Has he been in touch with you?'
'No,' said Souza. 'Perhaps he took a couple of days off. Impulsively.'
'He didn't strike me as an impulsive person, but perhaps he did. Anyway, I did some research on my own. No need to go into the technical aspects right now, but suffice it to say that I've come up with a group of chemicals that fit perfectly - anticholinergic alkaloids. Atropine, scopolo-mine, belladonna extracts. You may have heard of them.'
Heather looked at me raptly, like a coed with a crush on her professor, and shook her head.
'Vaguely,' said Souza.
'They were used extensively in the Middle Ages to - '
'Middle Ages,' said Dwight. 'This is pure crap. Psychological bullshit. Who the hell would poison him?'
'Please excuse my husband's tone,' said Heather, 'but his point is well taken. How in the world - and why - would anyone want to poison Jamey with these . . . anticole ...'
'Cholinergics,' I smiled. 'That I don't know. I suppose it'll be up to the police to look into it. But in the meantime, if the lab tests pan out, we've got a way to get Jamey off the hook. And to help restore him to normality! Because if he has been given belladonna, there's an antidote, a drug called Antilirium that can reverse its effects!'
'That would be something,' said Souza. 'These tests. Who's running them?'
'The neurologist who's caring for Jamey. Simon Platt.'
'And you simply called him and requested that he run them?'
I smiled, shrugged, produced my best boyish grin.
'I told him I had your permission. I know it's a little irregular, but given the seriousness of the issue - the threat to Jamey's sanity and his life - I didn't think you'd mind. And please don't come down on Platt for not verifying it with you. He and I know each other; we're both med school faculty members. So he took me at my word.'
Souza folded his arms across his barrel chest, looked at me sternly, permitted himself an avuncular smile.
'I admire your resourcefulness and your dedication,' he said, 'if not your disregard for the rules.'
'Sometimes' - I smiled - 'the rules have to be bent a little to get at the truth.' Looking at my watch: 'The results should be in by now. I have Platt's beeper number if you want to call him.'
'Yes,' said the attorney, rising. 'I believe I do.'
'Oh, come on, Horace,' said Cadmus. 'You're not taking this seriously.'
'Dwight,' said Souza sternly, 'Dr. Delaware may or may
not be correct. And though he's overstepped his professional bounds, it's clear that he's done so because he cares about Jamey. The least we can do is investigate his theory. For the boy's sake.' He smiled down at me. 'The number, please.'
I pulled out a scrap of paper and handed it to him. He snatched it up and walked to the doors. Swung them open and came face-to-face with Milo and Richard Cash. And behind them, a sea of blue uniforms.
ARROGANCE CAN be comforting, the belief that one is a blossom of cleverness springing from a dung heap of stupidity a snug bit of emotional insulation. But it's a risky delusion, leading to ill-preparedness, a sudden lack of balance, when reality comes crashing down and clever is no longer good enough.
It was that kind of vertigo that caused Souza to sway at the sight of the police, his lawyerly self-assurance crumbling like old cheese. But his recovery was quick, and within moments his features had reconstituted themselves into a dignified mask, as cold and immobile as one of the marble busts that dominated the corners of the room.
'What's this about, Sergeant?' he asked Milo.
'Loose ends,' said the detective. He was carrying a large briefcase, and he stepped in, reached for the rheostat inside the doorway, and spun it. As the wattage climbed, the room was stripped naked, transformed from a hushed, private world into four walls filled with expensive cliches, every nick, glitch, and faded spot confessing its existence under the heartless flood of incandescence.
Cash entered and closed the door, leaving the uniformed men outside. He took off his shades, folded them away, straightened his tie, and looked around the room appreciatively, settling his gaze on a print above the mantel.
'Currier and Ives,' he said. 'Nice.' Milo had positioned himself behind Souza, and the Beverly Hills detective walked over and stood behind the Cadmuses, taking a tactile tour along the way, inquisitive fingers caressing the polished contours of marble, porcelain, hardwood, and gilt before coming to rest at the lower hem of his suit jacket. The Cadmuses had reacted characteristically to the intrusion. Dwight darkening with bewilderment and annoyance, Heather straight-backed and still, as outwardly self-possessed as a prom queen. I saw her hazard a quick look at Souza, then return her attention immediately to her husband's quivering profile. As she watched his jaws work, one delicate hand took flight and rested on his sleeve. He didn't seem to notice.
'Horace,' he said. 'What is this?'
Souza quieted him with the lift of an eyebrow, looked back at Milo, and indicated the decanters.
'I'd offer you gentlemen drinks, but I know it's against regulations.'
'If you have plain soda water, I'll take some,' said Milo. 'How about you, Dick?'
'Soda's fine,' said Cash. 'On the rocks, with a twist.' 'Yes, of course,' said Souza, smiling to conceal his pique and pouring the drinks.
The detectives took them and found seats. Milo slumped down between Souza and me, putting his briefcase on the floor next to my legs. Cash sidled next to Heather. He took in her jewellery with hungry eyes, shifted his scrutiny to the swell of her breasts. She pretended not to notice but, as he kept staring, fell captive to a tiny, reflexive squirm. Dwight noticed the movement and swung his head around. Cash met his eyes defiantly, then buried his smirk in bubbles. Dwight looked away furious, checked his watch, and glared at me.
' You called them in, didn't you, Delaware? Played hero
without letting us know because of some half-assed theory.' He put his glasses on and barked at Souza: 'Horace, first thing tomorrow I want you to file a malpractice suit against this - '
'Dwight,' said Souza quietly, 'one thing at a time.'
'Fine. Just as long as you know where I stand.' He looked down his nose at Milo. 'We need to be out of here soon, Officer. There's a major fund-raiser at the Biltmore, and I'm on the dais.'
'Kiss off tonight,' said Milo.
Dwight stared at him, incredulous.
'Now wait one sec - '
'In fact,' added Cash, 'kiss off a whole bunch of tonights.'
Dwight's nails dug into his placemat. He started to rise.
'Sit, sir,' said Cash.
'Darling,' said Heather, exerting subtle pressure on her husband's sleeve. 'Please.'
Dwight sank down. The icy contours that anger had etched upon his face began to melt around the edges, softened to slush by a cloudburst of fear.
'Horace,' he said, 'what the hell are they talking about?'
Souza tried to placate him with an avuncular smile.
'Sergeant,' he said to Milo, 'I represent Mr. and Mrs. Cadmus's legal interests. Surely, if there's some issue that needs to be discussed, you can take it up with me and allow them to fulfill their social obligations.'
