“What’s your point?”
“No point at all. Just wondering if they ever taught you anything about monoamine oxidase inhibitors.”
“What’re you talking abou-”
“It’s amazing, really,” he interrupts. “You have two medications that separately are harmless. But if you mix them together-well, let’s just say it’s not a good thing.” He’s watching me way too carefully. Here it comes. “Let me give you an example,” he continues. “Let’s pretend you’re a candidate for the antidepressant Quarnil. You tell your psychiatrist you’re feeling bad; he prescribes some, and suddenly you’re feeling better. Problem solved. Of course, as with any drug, you have to read the warning label. And if you read the one on Quarnil, you’ll see that, while you’re taking it, you’re supposed to stay away from all sorts of things: yogurt, beer and wine, pickled herring… and something called pseudoephedrine.”
“Pseudo-what?”
“Funny, that’s what I thought you’d say.” Losing his smile, he adds, “Sudafed, Michael. One of the world’s best-selling decongestants. Mix that with Quarnil and it’ll shut you down faster than an emergency brake on a bullet train. Instant stroke. The strange part is, on the surface it’ll look like a simple heart attack.”
“You’re saying that’s how Caroline died? A mixture of Quarnil and Sudafed?”
“It’s just a theory,” he says unconvincingly.
I give him a look.
“The Sudafed was dissolved in her coffeepot,” Adenauer explains. “A dozen tablets, judging by the strength of the sample we scooped up. She never saw it coming.”
“What about the Quarnil?”
“She’s been taking it for years. Ever since she started working here.” He pauses. “Michael, whoever did this did their homework. They knew she was already on Quarnil. And they had to have more than a basic understanding of physiology.”
“So that’s your grand theory? You think they taught me this at Michigan? Poison 101: How to Kill Your Friends with Household Products?”
“You said it, not me.”
We both know it’s a stretch, but if he’s been through my college transcript, it means they’re tearing my life apart. Hard. “You’re on the wrong track,” I tell him. “I don’t play around with drugs. Never have; never will.”
“Then what were you doing yesterday at the zoo?” That’s what he was waiting for. I walked right into it.
“Watching the monkeys,” I say. “It’s amazing now-they all have walkie-talkies.”
He shakes his head with parental disapproval. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you? Vaughn’s not just the local bully. He’s a killer.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“I’m not sure you do. He’ll slice you open for fun. You heard what he did to his buddy Morty-piano wire through his-”
“I don’t think he did it.”
“Is that what Vaughn told you?”
“Just a theory,” I say.
He stands up from the sofa and walks toward my desk. “Michael, let me paint a little picture for you. You and Vaughn are standing on the edge of a cliff. And the only way to safety is a rickety bamboo bridge that leads to the other side. Problem is, this bridge is only strong enough to hold one more person. After that, it’s going to crumble into the canyon. You know what happens next?”
“Let me guess-Vaughn runs across.”
“No. He stabs you in the back, then he takes your canteen, then he swipes your wallet,
“That’s a pretty complex analogy.”
“I’m only trying to help you, Garrick. I really am. According to eyewitnesses, you were the last one who saw her. According to the tox reports, she was killed by someone who knows their drugs. According to WAVES records, you let Vaughn in. Now I don’t care what your little arrangement was with Nora-either way, I’ve got him linked to you. You’re standing on the edge of a cliff. What do you want to do?”
I don’t give him an answer.
“Whatever they’re telling you is cow-pie. They don’t care about you, Michael.”
“And you do?”
“Despite what you think, I don’t want to see you throw your life away on this-I respect how you got here. Make it easy on us and I promise you, I’ll make it easy on you.”
“What do you mean ‘make it easy’?”
“You know what we’re after. Tie Nora to Vaughn-drug user to drug dealer to drug-related death. Give us that and we’re done.”
“But they don’t-”
“Don’t tell me they don’t know each other-I’m sick of the bullshit. If you don’t give us Nora’s link to Vaughn, we’ll just use Vaughn’s link to you.”
“Even if you know it’s not true?”
“Not true? Garrick, the only reason I’m holding out this long is because she’s the President’s daughter-the proof has to be airtight. If I can’t get it on her, though, like I said, I’m just as happy to start with you. Y’see, once I put you out there-once the press realizes you’re dating-it doesn’t take a genius to fill in the rest. It may take an extra step, but Nora’s not going anywhere.” Pressing the tips of his fingers tightly against my desk, he leans in close. “And unless you give us the link, neither are you.”
As he pulls away, I’m speechless.
“I can still help you, Michael. You have my word.”
“But if I-”
“Why don’t you think about it overnight?” he suggests. He’s not changing his deadline, but I still need to stall-until after my noon meeting with Vaughn.
“Can I at least have until the end of the day tomorrow? There’s one last thing I want to ask Nora about. If I’m right, you’ll understand. If I’m wrong and it doesn’t come through-you can slap a big red ribbon on me and I’ll personally hand myself to the press.”
He takes a moment to think about it. A promise with actual results. “Five o’clock tomorrow,” he finally says. “But remember what I told you-Vaughn’s just looking for another sucker. As soon as you’re in harm’s way, he’s going to duck out.”
I nod as he heads for the door. “I’ll see you at five o’clock.”
“Five o’clock it is.” He’s about to leave when he turns around, his hand still on the doorknob. “By the way,” he says. “What’d you think of Nora on
My stomach sinks as he pulls tight on the noose. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason. She was pretty good, huh? You’d never know they were in the margin of error-it was like she was holding the whole family together.”
I study his eyes, trying to read between the lines. There’s no reason for him to bring up poll numbers. “She’s strong when she needs to be,” I say.
“So I guess that means she doesn’t need much protection.” Before I can respond, he adds, “Of course, maybe I have it backwards. These media things always make it look like more than it is, don’t you think?” With a knowing nod, he turns back to the anteroom, flips off the light switch, and leaves the room. The door slams behind him.
Alone in the dark, I replay Adenauer’s last words. Even if we’re both still missing a few pieces, he’s got enough to make a picture. That’s why he’s made his decision: No matter what I do, for me, it’s over. The only question now is who I’m going to drag down with me.
I wait a full minute after he leaves before I go for the door myself. Regardless of what the schedule says, when it comes to trips, almost nothing moves on time. If they’re running late, I can still catch her. Following my usual path, I tear toward the West Wing. But as soon as I hit the night air, I know I’m cutting it close. There’s no
