with some pleasure that the protruding rafters kept The Stilt in a persistent hunch.
The shop was more cluttered and more fragrant than Sarah remembered. Stalks of wild reeds and dried flowers were everywhere, interspersed with barrels of roots, various ground flours, rice, and leaves. The old glass- front counter and the shelves behind it were packed with jars of widely varying sizes, shapes, and contents. One contained desiccated scorpions; another, huge beetles; still another, an eel in preservative. A few of the jars had labels handwritten in Chinese, but many of them had none.
Two somewhat mangy, long-haired cats, one pure white, the other black as chimney soot, huddled sleepily in one corner. And standing like a totem, or perhaps an exclamation point, in the center of the disarray, was a well- stocked wire display rack of Dr. Scholl's foot products.
'I don't think parading a jury into this place will help our cause too much,' Blankenship whispered.
'Let's hope it never comes to that,' Sarah said.
'Well, Counselor, how do you want to proceed?' Matt asked.
Mallon, apparently unaware that his Armani suit was backed up against a thick, dusty crop of dried sunflower stalks, made a visual survey of the shop that was theatrically slow and disparaging. Clearly, he was back on track.
'We have a list of the ingredients in Dr. Baldwin's supplement,' he said finally. 'One at a time, we'll ask for them. Mr. Kwong's granddaughter may translate if necessary. The sample will then be placed in two labeled evidence bags. The first will be sealed by Sheriff Mooney and the seal initialed by you or Dr. Baldwin. The second will be inspected by Mr. Ettinger, who will make what notes he wishes. Beginning later today, he will be working with a team of botanists and chemists to identify each component scientifically. Does that approach meet with your approval, Counselor?'
'Sarah, Eli, is that all right with you?' Matt asked.
'As a representative of the Medical Center of Boston, I would like to examine the specimens as well,' Blankenship said.
'Do you know herbal medicine?' Sarah asked.
'Oh, a bit.'
His half smile suggested that, as in many areas, what he considered a 'bit' of knowledge made others experts.
She motioned Blankenship and Matt into a huddle.
'There's something I ought to explain,' she whispered.
'To us or to everyone?'
'To everyone.' She cleared some nervousness from her throat.
'Just be very careful,' Blankenship warned. 'Remember, they're the enemy.'
'I understand. Mr. Mallon, before you start this process, I want to explain that I brought the composition of the mixture I use back with me from Southeast Asia. It was written out in Chinese by a brilliant herbalist and healer. I have a copy of that version here. It is this list Mr. Kwong has used to prepare the tea which I dispense. Some of the names on the list you have-the one I give to my patients-are my best guesses at the English equivalent of the roots and herbs he uses.'
'As long as the two lists are in the same order, and you and Mr. Kwong concur that what he puts in these bags is what you gave to Lisa Grayson, I have no problem with what names you call things. In due time, Mr. Ettinger and his team will be providing us with scientific names and chemical compositions. I'd like a copy of that Chinese list, though.'
Debbie translated what had been decided to Kwong and handed him the list. Sarah felt certain that the old man had the components of the mixture memorized. But sharing that information with Mallon would not serve their cause at all.
'Okay, then,' Mallon said. 'Number one is Oriental ginseng.'
'Panax pseudoginseng,' Sarah heard Blankenship whisper to himself.
Debbie told her grandfather to proceed. The herbalist nodded somewhat impatiently and, with only the briefest glance at the list, pulled a large jar of brown plant fragments from beneath the counter. Using a worn metal scoop, he filled a pair of plastic bags. Sarah authenticated the seal on one and gave it to Matt, who gave it to the sheriff. The other was passed first to Blankenship and then to Peter. Blankenship took only moments to assess the contents. Peter sniffed it, tasted it, and rolled a bit between his fingers. Then, after a few hmms, which Sarah felt certain were to irritate her, he placed specimen one in his briefcase.
The second item on the list, a gnarled root, was handled the same way, as was the third, which Sarah's list called moondragon.
'It's actually shavings of bark from the medarah tree,' Sarah explained. 'Endemic to Java, but also found in southern China. Wonderful for intestinal and stomach disorders. Great for morning sickness.'
As she spoke, Sarah noticed that at the far right end of the counter, Sheriff Mooney had begun peering intently into one of the glass containers. It was on the topmost shelf, behind several larger jars. Sarah strained to see what the lawman was finding so interesting and was about to inform Matt, when Kwong began waving his arms wildly about and yelling.
'No, no, no!' he shouted, his expression a disconcerting mix of anger and bewilderment. 'No, no, no!'
He was nearly hysterical as he railed at his granddaughter, gesticulating toward the five-gallon jar holding the sample he had just meted out-the fourth component on the list. Sarah had never before heard the man so much as raise his voice. But the frightened, frustrated look in his eyes was one she knew well. She had seen it often in the eyes of her mother as the woman's Alzheimer's disease inexorably progressed. Something had gone wrong-very wrong.
CHAPTER 20
'Debbie, what's going on?'
The teen, who was trying with no success to calm her grandfather, just shook her head.
Sarah grabbed a small, cane-back chair and helped induce the old man to sit down. Kwong continued, though hoarsely now, to rattle at Debbie and everyone else in machine-gun Cantonese. Sarah knelt beside him and stroked his hand until he finally began to quiet down.
'I don't know what happened,' Debbie said. 'He scooped out the herbs and put them in the Baggies, and everything seemed fine. Then all of a sudden, he took a bit from the jar, smelled it, and started shouting. I'm very frightened for him. He's not been well.'
Kwong's complexion, sallow to begin with, did seem even paler to Sarah. Reflexively she checked the radial pulse at his wrist. For a moment she thought his heart was beating wildly. Then she realized that it was her own pulse she was feeling, hammering in her fingertips. Clearly the significance of this turn of events had registered in her autonomic nervous system, if not yet completely in her mind. The confusion… the apparent error… the hysterical reaction. These were the last things she would have ever expected from her herbalist. But then again, Kwong Tian-Wen was not the man she remembered.
'Dr. Blankenship, do you think he's okay?' she asked.
'Are you?' he whispered.
Sarah bit at her lower lip and nodded. 'I just can't believe this is happening.'
'Just what is going on here?' Mallon demanded.
Sarah turned on him like a startled cat.
'He's getting sick, that's what's going on!' she snapped. She took a deep breath to calm herself. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump all over you. Listen, I need to speak to Mr. Daniels, and I think Dr. Blankenship should check Mr. Kwong over.'
Mallon backed away while Sarah held a whispered conversation with her lawyer. Meanwhile, Eli Blankenship tested Kwong's carotid pulses and cardiac impulse, checked his pupils and fingernail beds, and assessed his respiratory excursions.
