Implant. Part 16

He glanced at his watch.

Won't be long now.

He watched Gin sitting tense and stiff against the back wall as Marsden brought the room to order. The senator made a few brief opening remarks about the missing committee members, offering condolences to the Lane family and hope for Congressman Allard's speedy recovery. Out of respect, he said, their nameplates would remain before their places until their replacements were chosen.

Duncan knew he was tempting fate to do this with Gin here, but he had little choice. Another of those perverse twists that dogged his heels lately. Still, there was no way Gin could connect him to what was about to happen to Senator Vincent.

Ah, Gin, he thought. Look at you, my naive cygnet, thinking you can have some effect on these proceedings. But it's all preordained. The real decisions as to whether or not American medicine will be practiced via government-issue cookbooks, and whether your fellow physicians will be suffocated under mountains of regulations where they'll spend more time dodging fines and penaltiff than attending to the health of their patients, will not be made here but in back rooms and hallways, where a vote for the Guidelinff act will be traded for a bridge or a highway spur.

The first witnffs was called, Samuel Fox, MD.

i Typical, Duncan thought. Congress's favorite pet doctor, the physician-hating physician.

Fox styled himself as a consumer advocate but was little more than a grandstanding autolatrous worm. This hearing was proceeding exactly as expected.

As the notoriously prolix Fox began reading a prepared statement, Duncan kept his eyes fixed on Vincent, watching for the first signs.His thoughts wandered back to the day Congressman Hugo Lane had shown up at his officer. That had been earlier this year, shortly after the president had instigated the anabiosis of the committee. Lane the notorious lush had come to him for removal of the spidery blemishes sprouting all over his face and upper trunk. Supposedly from too much sun. Duncan recognized them immediately as arterial angiomas, known in the trade as boozer blossoms. They meant a fatty, cirrhotic liver.

Too much sun? Too much Johnny Walker.

It had required enormous control not to slam the man back on the examining table. The flagitious toper! Lane had been a member of the original McCready committee, a partic.i.p.ant in the savaging of Duncan's career, his life, and he didn't even remember him.

Like the old song, Am That Easy to Forget?

He'd been part of the process that had killed Lisa and he had never even heard her name.

Duncan remembered staring dumbfounded, thinking, We have this history together, the most traumatic time of my entire life, and you have no inkling.

If Duncan had not been in a towering rage over the revival of the committee, if Lane had not been reappointed to it, Duncan might have simply explained who he was, what he and his cronies had done to his life, and thrown the b.a.s.t.a.r.d the h.e.l.l out.

But circ.u.mstances being what they were, Duncan had said, Yff, Congressman. No problem. We can take care of all those unsightly areas of sun damage. Cautery of the central vessel of each with an ultrafine laser. Easy as pie. Barbara will arrange a day and time for the procedure.

While I arrange a little something extra for you.

So Congressman Lane had been the first.

Duncan's plan had been to have him make an a.s.s out of himself at the French emba.s.sy. Duncan had been there, had watched and waited, but Hugo Lane had behaved as usual, drank too much, ate too much, and talked too loud. Maybe all the alcohol in his system was to blame, maybe his fatty liver wasn't working up to snuff. Whatever the reason, Lane was apparently his usual self until he was driving home. Wimesses said he wove all over the road before cras.h.i.+ng through a barrier and rolling down an embankment in Rock Creek Park.

Duncan had been shocked and dismayed. He hadn't intended for Lane to diejust go crazy in front of a roomful of his peers. And maybe staycrazy for a few years.

No worry about being found out. Lane's blood-alcohol level was explanation enough for the accident. But even if the ME had looked for other causes he would have come up empty. Toxicology screens can find only what they're looking for, and no one would be screening for what Duncan had put into Lane. Only a handful of people had ever known it existed.

Schulz had been next. This procurante, too, had no memory of the doctor his committee had flagellated years past, no knowledge of the teenage girl who'd died because of it. Duncan realized then why they didn't remember him, He'd never been important to them. Duncan Lathram was a name on a piece of paper handed to them by one of their aides five years ago. They'd reviled him when the microphones were on, but never gave him a thought between hearings, and forgot about him after a couple of weeks.

Schulz . . . a vain, strutting, womanizing roue whose diligent efforts over the years to keep a year-round tan had left his face a ma.s.s of wrinkles. On the recommendation of his good friend Congressman Lane he'd come to Duncan for a solution. He'd already tried Retin-A but to no avail. His myriad wrinkles seemed baked in. Could Duncan help?

Of course, Senator. Duncan had smoothed his rugose hide, and given him something extra.

Duncan hadn't yet decided on the time and place for Schulz when the shocking news reached him that the senator was dead. Duncan had been baffled until he'd learned that a physical therapy session had been the penultimate event in the good senator's life before he took a dive from the balcony of his high-rise town house. That probably explained it.

Or maybe Schulz simply had a guilty conscience.

Not likely.

Again, no loss to the world. But once again he'd been deprived of the catharsis he craved.

Allard had come the closfft to what Duncan had planned for him, but that, too, had fallen short.

Today was going to be different. Duncan could feel it in his bones.

And when he noticed the corner of Senator Vincent's mouth begin to twitch, he was sure of it.

Gin leaned forward in her seat and placed another note in front of Senator Marsden. She'd been culling one question after another fromDr. Fox's parade of dubious statistics but was pa.s.sing only the more flagrant errors forward. There wasn't time for the senator to consider all of them.

As she slid back she noticed a small fleshy b.u.mp atop the auricle of the senator's left ear. Smooth with a pearly surface.

On a sun-exposed area, that was a basal cell carcinoma until proven otherwise. She wasn't his doctor, and it was sometimes touchy to point out a potential health problem to someone who hadn't asked, but she decided to mention it to him later.

She heard a pencil drop. She looked up. No, it was a pen. It had fallen near Senator Vincent. He must have dropped it, but he didn't seem to notice. She was forcing her attention back to Dr. Fox when she noticed Senator Vincent jerk in his seat. She watched and he did it again. A spasmodic movement, as if someone had jabbed him with a pin, or a violent chill had pa.s.sed through him. The room was cool but he seemed to be sweating. He ran a trembling hand through his frizzy hair.

Is he all right? she wondered.

She watched him a moment longer and he seemed to be calm, no more jerks or twitches. But he was still sweating, and gripping the edge of the table as if it might float away from himor he from it.

Concentrate on the testimony, Gin, she told herself. That's your job here. Not Senator Vincent's hangover or whatever's bothering him.

She focused on Fox's words and was in the middle of another notation when . . .

"Just a minute, please. P-Please, excuse me." Gin jumped at the sudden interruption. Senator Vincent, kissing his mike and popping his P's, had broken in at peak volume.

"Yes, Senator? " Senator Marsden said softly. "Shall we allow The doctor to finish his statement before questioning him? " "No! "

Vincent shouted, slamming his fist on the table. His eyes were wild as he glared along the table at Senator Marsden. "We shall do no such d.a.m.n thing. Not when this son of a b.i.t.c.h starts slandering my wife!"

Gin was rocked by that. Fox had been talking about overutilization of services. She saw heads snap up all around the hearing room. Both C-SPAN cameras had swiveled toward Vincent, and the still photographers were s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g their lenses back and forth as they focused on him, the previously somnolent reporters had come alive and were now scribbling on their pads or jabbing away at their laptops.

And on the dais she watched the other members exchange puzzledglances.

Marsden looked the most concerned of all.

He cleared his throat. "Senator Vincent, I don't believe Dr. Fox mentioned anyone's wife. He was discussing" "Don't you tell me what he said or didn't say, you greenhorn! " Vincent shouted. "I was taking testimony when you were p.i.s.sing your pants. And don't you side with him against me, either! ' "Senator, ' Dr. Fox said from the floor.

His expression was wounded and confused. "I a.s.sure you I never said or even implied anything" Vincent leapt to his fee. He was. off mike now, but his harsh voice cut through the hearing room as he pointed a trembling finger at Fox.

"Don't lie to me, you little s.h.i.+t! Of course you did! " He swayed as he swept the room with his hand. "They all heard you. Every word of it." He stared at the wide-eyed, gawking visitors. "Didn't you?

Didn't you? " Silence . . . except for the clicks of camera lenses and the whir of advancing film.

Vincent began to nod his head. "Oh, so that's it. You're all in on it. Well that's just fine. I'll just" Suddenly he whirled on Senator Marsden. "What did you say? " Gin saw Senator Marsden cringe back.

She didn't blame him. The naked fury in Vincent's eyes was frightening.

"II didn't say anything, Harold. Maybe we should call a recess until" "No! No recess! " Saliva flecked his lips and began to spray as he shouted. "We're going to settle this right here. Here and now!

We're" Suddenly he stiffened. His arms went rigid, his head snapped back as his spine bowed. Gin saw his eyes roll up and knew he was going to convulse. She was out of her chair and halfway to him when he dropped to the floor and began a tonic-clonic seizure.

Gin crouched beside him, cradling his jerking head. His eyes were open but he was seeing nothing. She listened to the air hissing in and out between his clenched teeth. Good. As long as that kept up, she knew he hadn't swallowed his tongue.

"Somebody call the emergency squad! " she cried.

She loosened his tie, folded it, and worked it between his grinding teeth. The senator was going to need a dose of diazepam soon.She looked up and saw Samuel Fox in the encircling huddle of anxious faces and camera lensesthose d.a.m.n clicking, whirring cameras.

"Dr. Fox. Flow about a little help? " Fox didn't budge. He shook his head. "I can't! I . . . I've never practiced. ' "Great, " Gin muttered.

Suddenly Senator Marsden was at her side.

"The E.M.Ts are on their way. What do you want me to do? " Gin gave him a quick, grateful smile. "Just grab his arms and steady them.

Don't try to pin them down, just blunt the wild movements, keep him from flailing around too much and breaking a bone." '"Will do." It took another minute or soit seemed much longer before the seizure abated and Senator Vincent's limbs relaxed. His body slumped, his eyes closed. He began to snore.

"Does he have a history of seizures? " Gin asked Senator Marsden as they released their hold.

"Not that I know of. But then again, that's not something you broadcast in public life. ' Right. Voters were probably funny about voting for an epileptic. But what about the bizarre paranoid behavior just before the seizure?

The E.M.Ts arrived then. As they started an IV drip and loaded Senator Vincent on the stretcher, Gin told them he'd suffered a grand mal seizure and suggested they call ahead and have a neurologist waiting.

"Have ten milligrams of diazepam ready to go IV push if he starts again, " she told them as they were leaving.

She turned to Senator Marsden. "Thanks for your help." He nodded absently, then surveyed the milling, murmuring crowd around the dais.

"Nothing like starting off with a bang, " he said with a sigh.

"Are you going to call a recess? " He nodded. "An indefinite one. '

"What do you mean? " . - His expression was bleak." I opened the hearings this morning two members short. Now I'm three short. I've got half a committee now. Even if Senator Vincent recovers soon, I don't see him appearing before the cameras again for quite some TIME Do you? " "No. Can't say as I do."

"So I'm going to have to wait until at least one of those empty seats is filled."

"How long will that take? " Gin said, her heart sinking. She'd juststarted this job last week, now it was evaporating before her eyes.

"Could be a while." Gin's expression must have revealed her dismay.

He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry. I want you around doing background during the hiatus. I like the way you handle yourself. And who knows? We may not have a long wait if I can get the president involved. He wants this bill before the end of the year. Maybe he can twist a few arms. ' He returned to his seat on the dais, banged his gavel twice, and announced that hearings were suspended until further notice.

Gin suddenly thought of Duncan. She searched the crowd for him but he was gone.

Twice now, Duncan had been present when some catastrophe had befallen one of his legislator patients.

What had he said to Senator Vincent down on the. floor . . . minutes before the senator went crazy?

Gin had a strange feeling that he'd told him to remember someone named Lisa.

Later, Gin returned to the Hart Building via the underground shuttle and was surprised to find Gerry waiting for her in the atrium.

"Am I glad to see you." She needed someone to talk to, needed to ventilate the morning's events. She gave him a hug and felt the tension in his muscles. Gerry didn't seem to be in a listening mood.

"We need to talk, ' he said. His expression was serious, almost grim.

"Is something wrong? " "Something might be. Can I tell you about it over lunch? " "Nothing about Martha, is it? " He stared at her, then put his arm around her shoulder. "No. Nothing at all to do with Martha." They walked down to Ma.s.s. Gerry tried to make small talk but didn't do a very good job.

Summer wasn't letting go just yet. The sun was high and 0 the air warm. Gerry pointed to an array of red-and-white Tecate umbrellas on a patio in front of a converted brownstone about a block and a half down from Union Station.

"How about T-Coast? " Gerry said.

Gin looked at the sign, Tortilla Coast. Mexican food. "It's not a Taco Bell, but I guess we can make do." She was too wound up to eat,but just sitting in the sun would be good.

They took a corner table near the sidewalk.

"So what's the problem? " she said as the hostess left them with their menus.

"I heard about Senator Vincent."

"It was terrible."

"You realize, don't you, that he's the third member of your committee to bite the dust. ' "Yes. Senator Marsden and I were just discussing it. But what? " "I did some quick background on him. Checked if he'd had any surgery recently." He paused, staring at her. "You know what's coming next, don't you." It wasn't a question. What was he getting at? Why was the FBI interested?

"Duncan."

"Right. That makes four." "Four what? " "Four dead or disabled legislatorstwo senators, two congressmenall Lathram patients. Three of them on the Guidelines committee. Could your Dr. Lathram have it in for that committee or something? " Gin suddenly felt a little queasy.

He was echoing her own crazy thoughts.

The waitress arrived then. Gin agreed to share Gerry's nacho platter and ordered a Pepsi. Considering what the morning had been like, she could have done with a brew she'd acquired a taste for Dixie while at Tulanebut she didn't want to show up at the senator's staff meeting this afternoon with beer on her breath.

"He was there this morning, you know, " she said when they were alone again.

"Who? " "Duncan. And he was on the Capitol steps when Allard took his fall."

"You were there? You never told me. How close was he? " "You mean, did Duncan push him? Come on. But he . . . " She hesitated, wondering if she should mention it, then plunged ahead.

"Duncan's last words to Allard were something about Lisa."

"His daughter? The one who? " '"Committed suicide. I think so. He said something about an eighteen-year-old named Lisa. Had to be her.

" Gerry was silent a moment, then, "On the subject of Lisa, I dug alittle deeper after reading her death certificate. Got a copy of the coroner's report." Gin's heart kicked its rhythm up a notch. "You have it with you? " "No. It's back at my office. But I read it through a couple of times.

It summarized her whole medical history. Let me tell you, Lisa Lathram was one troubled kid."