beard could be seen as part of a very careful makeup job. Gaudet deliberately made himself up to look like a green-eyed Abraham Lincoln. He wasn't a replica, but the similarity would be apparent to a Lincoln aficionado. The gray-green of the eyes was created with contacts. As they walked down the hall through the glare of the bright lights, Gaudet told Ayala that he needed a moment of privacy so they could talk. The doctor showed him to an exam room.
'You are staring at my disguise. Do you think it is unsatisfactory?'
'I didn't know you had one. Why would a journalist wear a disguise?'
'Bowden is publicity-shy. He has tried to dodge me in the past, and if he recognizes me, he might not give me the in terview.'
'I would have thought an author like him would welcome the publicity.'
'Well, he will in the end enjoy the publicity for his books. But I believe that he's been having a romantic relationship with the young lady in his room. He worries that journalists will dwell on that aspect of his life. I come from France. I have no interest in writing about that sort of thing, but…' Gaudet shrugged at the silliness of the notion.
Unfortunately, Ayala appeared mildly skeptical.
'Listen,' Gaudet continued. 'I did not say this would be easy. If you make this happen, there is an extra U.S. three thousand dollars in it for you.'
'In addition to the other?'
'In addition.'
The doctor nodded. 'But you are sure this will be good for Dr. Bowden?'
The young man's innocence was amusing. He was struggling hard to justify his role despite the payoff.
'Publicity never hurts an author. Your job is to get me alone with them without any guards present. With the guards my chances of getting a good interview are much less.'
They exited the elevators on med surg and immediately ducked into a shower room. Nobody would be taking showers in the middle of the night. The hallways were gleaming and bright even with the lights slightly dim. They peered out through a small window in the door and watched in the di rection of room 317, where the estrangeiros remained congregated. Gaudet slowed his breathing and closed his eyes. Getting into the room without the guards might not be so easy after all.
Sam was in heavy traffic in a Rio taxi on the way to the Rio airport to catch the 11:55 pm flight to LA. Always he had put a high premium on his instincts. No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't imagine that Gaudet had gone personally to LA to fire a rocket into his offices. Had he done so, the explosion would have been more accurate. What else could it be but a distraction? A distraction de signed to move Sam out of South America.
'Take me back to the hospital,' Sam said to the cabbie.
The driver looked back to indicate his puzzlement.
Sam made a circle with his finger and pointed back up the street, the way they had come.
'Ah. You… ahhh… leave… ahhh… forget… the suit case?'
The driver made a couple of turns and headed back to the hospital. Sam began looking at his watch, knowing that in the traffic it could take an hour or more. Using the cell phone, he called Jill and explained his decision. She told him that they would be fine and that the move was already going smoothly.
Gaudet moved in beside the gurney, trying to determine what might go wrong with his plan. They passed through the throng of security people, the towering Japanese immedi ately behind Dr. Ayala, who pushed the gurney.
Grady walked on the far side of the gurney, holding Bowden's hand. They were going to the X-ray lab to perform some X-rays requested by the surgeon. It was a final check for any remaining bone fragments.
It was unlikely that Dr. Ayala, who wasn't assigned to the case, would be talking with the surgeon about Bowden's case, but no one questioned it. It was equally unusual that a first-year resident in internal medicine would be taking a pa tient to the X-ray lab. Normally, it would be done by an X-ray technician and the only doctor who might be present would be a radiologist and then only if it was a special study-in those circumstances the radiologist would wait in the radiology department. Dr. Ayala had told Gaudet all this, and even so, he risked it. So far, so good.
Ayala's face showed the stress he felt. He was probably wondering how he'd explain all of this if someone brought it up when the chief resident returned tomorrow.
Gaudet's greatest concern had been that Grady Wade would suspect him. So far, there had been no sign of any recognition whatsoever. Things were going remarkably well.
It was late evening in Rio. At such times people in a hos pital naturally held their voices down and moved quietly. Almost all of the rooms were semidark or dark and they encountered only two nurses the entire length of the hallway. The hospital was designed with large wings and elevators in the center core. When they arrived at the elevators, Grady, the Japanese, two of the security men, and Dr. Ayala all got aboard. By his own observation it seemed to Gaudet that Grady and the big Japanese were by far the most observant. In the close quarters of a crowded elevator, they, if anyone, would discern that most of his face was a creation.
Grady held Michael's hand and watched his face in silence. When he looked back at her, it felt, as always, as if he were speaking to her, even though they said nothing.
The doctor from France, on the other hand, acted strangely. Actually, it was how he looked. He appeared to wear makeup. Was this a French affectation? And why would two doctors take a man to be x-rayed? She glanced at Dr. Burre. He looked like a man who wanted to shrink. The younger doctor Ayala from the hospital didn't seem comfortable either. It almost seemed as if they had terrible news they were reluctant to divulge.
The dark of the hallway began to make her uneasy, and the farther they went, the more they were becoming isolated. They went through a section subject to remodeling and the ceiling was partially torn out, exposing conduit and wires. This ugly wound in the building reminded her of a war zone.
She looked back at Yodo. He seemed watchful, as always. Their eyes met; now he knew that she was afraid. The gurney rolled silently over the vinyl tile and eight pairs of feet made a quiet patter as they walked. Normally, in a large group in a hospital one would feel completely safe, but Grady did not and she didn't know why.
'How much farther?' Yodo said.
'Almost there,' Dr. Ayala replied.
The lights were inadequate here. It was dark enough that Grady could no longer tell the color of the paint on the walls.
They turned a sharp left, then went right through two large double doors and into a waiting area that was obviously closed for the evening. They proceeded through an other large single door and into the back and then into a central working area with X-ray viewing screens all around.
'We'll need you all to wait out here,' Doctor Ayala said.
'I'm going with him,' said Grady, 'and so is Yodo.'
'There is radiation in the room when we take a picture. Normally, you would be in the waiting room and not here. We have brought you as far as we can.'
'Perhaps the young woman could come as the patient's representative,' Dr. Burre said.
'There is a shield,' Yodo spoke up. 'In the wall. I have seen them. You stand behind it. So will we.'
'I also wear a lead apron. And the rules don't allow for people in the X-ray area. But you can be right here and we will be right through that door.'
'It'll be fine,' Michael said. 'Like the doctor said, Grady can come.'
Yodo obviously didn't like it but acquiesced at least for the moment. Grady and Michael passed through the door and into a large room with odd-looking machines. Dr. Ayala kept going.
'Where are we going now?' Grady asked.
'Into another X-ray room with the correct equipment.' Dr. Ayala flipped a light switch.
They went through a doorway and into a smaller X-ray room. It was very bare and seemed to have been built and furnished in an earlier era. In the middle stood a large metal bed with an X-ray unit overhead.
Dr. Burre closed the door and walked over to Dr. Ayala. As he did so, the young doctor's eyes seemed to freeze. He was trying to say something. His mouth seemed to be forming an O, as if to express surprise. Then he slumped forward. Dr. Burre was holding him up and then lowering him to the floor.
'What's wrong?'
Then Grady saw it. Protruding from the doctor's lab coat, just below his chest, was a bloody wooden handle
