Mike consulted the book. "Frank Gleason and Dorothy Kline. Their accession numbers are 100385 and
101455. Anything else?"
"Were you expecting these particular funeral homes to come?" Laurie asked. "Yeah, of course," Mike said. "They'd called beforehand just like always." "So you had everything ready for them?" "Sure," Mike said. "I had the paperwork all done. They just had to sign off." "And the bodies?" Laurie asked.
"They were in the walk-in cooler as usual," Mike said. "Right in the front on gurneys." Laurie looked at Jack. "Can you think of anything else to ask?" Jack shrugged. "I think you've pretty well covered the bases except when Mike was off the floor." "Good point!" Laurie said. Turning back to Mike she said: "Carl told us that when he left for the men's room twice last night, he contacted you. Do you contact Carl whenever you need to leave your post?" "Always," Mike said. "We're often the only ones down here. We have to have someone guarding the door."
"Were you away from the office very long last night?" Laurie asked. "Nope," Mike said. "No more than usual. Couple of times to the head and a half hour for lunch up on the second floor. I'm telling you, it was a normal night." "What about the janitors?" Laurie asked. "Were they around?" "Not during my shift," Mike said. "Generally they clean down here evenings. The night shift is upstairs unless there is something out of the ordinary going on." Laurie tried to think of additional questions but couldn't. "Thanks, Mike," she said. "No problem," Mike said.
Laurie started for the door but stopped. Turning around she asked: "By any chance did you happen to see Franconi's body?"
Mike hesitated a second before admitting that he had. "What was the circumstance?" Laurie asked. "When I get to work Marvin, the evening tech, usually briefs me about what's going on. He was kind of psyched about the Franconi situation because of all the police and the way the family carried on. Anyway, he showed me the body."
"When you saw it, was it in compartment one eleven?"
"Yup."
"Tell me, Mike," Laurie said. "If you had to guess, how do you think the body disappeared?" "I don't have the foggiest idea," Mike said. "Unless he walked out of here." He laughed, then seemed embarrassed. "I don't mean to joke around. I'm as confused as everybody else. All I know is only two bodies went out of here last night, and they were the two I checked out." "And you never looked at Franconi again after Marvin showed him to you?" "Of course not," Mike said. "Why would I?" "No reason," Laurie said. "Do you happen to know where the van drivers are?" "Upstairs in the lunchroom," Mike said. "That's where they always are." Laurie and Jack took the elevator. As they were riding up, Laurie noticed Jack's eyelids were drooping. "You look tired," Laurie commented.
"No surprise. I am," Jack said.
"Why don't you go home?" Laurie said.
"I've stuck it out this far," Jack said. "I think I'll see it to the bitter end." The bright fluorescent lighting of the lunchroom made both Laurie and Jack squint. They found Jeff and Pete at a table next to the vending machines, poring over newspapers while snacking on potato chips. They were dressed in rumpled blue coveralls with Health and Hospital Corporation patches on their upper arms. Both had ponytails.
Laurie introduced herself, explained about her interest in the missing body, and asked if there was anything unique about the previous night, particularly about the two bodies they'd brought in. Jeff and Pete exchanged a look, then Pete responded. "Mine was a mess," Pete said.
"I don't mean the bodies themselves," Laurie said. "I'm wondering if there was anything unusual about the process. Did you see anyone in the morgue you didn't recognize? Did anything out of the ordinary happen?"
Pete glanced again at Jeff then shook his head. "Nope. It was just like usual." "Do you remember what compartment you put your body into?" Laurie asked. Pete scratched the top of his head. "Not really," he said. "Was it near to one eleven?" Laurie asked.
Pete shook his head. "No, it was around the other side. Something like fifty-five. I don't remember
exactly. But it's written downstairs."
Laurie turned to Jeff.
"My body went into twenty-eight," Jeff said. "I remembered because that's how old I am." "Did either of you see Franconi's body?" Laurie asked. The two drivers again exchanged glances. Jeff spoke: "Yeah, we did." "What time?"
"Around now," Jeff said.
"What was the circumstance?" Laurie said. "You guys don't normally see bodies that you don't transport."
"After Mike told us about it, we wanted to look because of all the excitement. But we didn't touch anything."
"It was only for a second," Pete added. "We just opened the door and looked in." "Were you with Mike?" Laurie asked.
"No," Pete said. "He just told us which compartment." "Has Dr. Washington talked to you about last night?" Laurie asked. "Yeah, and Mr. Harper, too," Jeff said. "Did you tell Dr. Washington about looking at the body?" Laurie asked. "No," Jeff said.
"Why not?" Laurie asked.
"He didn't ask," Jeff said. "I guess we know we're really not supposed to do it. I mean we don't usually. But, as I said, with all the commotion, we were curious." "Maybe you should tell Dr. Washington," Laurie suggested. "Just so he has all the facts." Laurie turned around and headed back to the elevator. Jack dutifully followed. "What do you think?" Laurie asked.
"It's getting harder and harder for me to think the closer it gets to midnight," Jack said. "But I wouldn't make anything of those two peeking at the body." "But Mike didn't mention it," Laurie said.
"True," Jack said. "But they all know they were bending the rules. It's human nature in such a situation
not to be completely forthcoming."
"Maybe so," Laurie said with a sigh.
"Where to now?" Jack asked as they boarded the elevator. "I'm running out of ideas," Laurie said. "Thank God," Jack said.
"Don't you think I should ask Mike why he didn't tell us about the van drivers looking at Franconi?" Laurie asked.
"You could, but I think you're just spinning your wheels," Jack said. "Truly, I can't imagine it was anything but harmless curiosity."
"Then let's call it a night," Laurie said. "Bed is sounding good to me, too." CHAPTER 5: MARCH 5, 1997 10:15 A.M.
COGO, EQUATORIAL GUINEA
KEVIN replaced the tissue culture flasks in the incubator and closed the door. He'd been working since before dawn. His current quest was to find a transponase to handle a minor histocompatibility gene on the Y chromosome. It had been eluding him for over a month despite his use of the technique that had resulted in his finding and isolating the transponases associated with the short arm of chromosome 6. Kevin's usual schedule was to arrive at the lab around eight-thirty, but that morning he'd awakened at four a.m. and had not been able to fall back to sleep. After tossing and turning for three-quarters of an hour, he'd decided he might as well use the time for good purpose. He'd arrived at his lab at five a.m. while it was still pitch dark.
What was troubling Kevin's sleep was his conscience. The nagging notion that he'd made a Promethean mistake resurfaced with a vengeance. Although Dr. Lyons's mention of building his own lab had assuaged him at the time, it didn't last. Lab of his dreams or no, he couldn't deny the horror he feared was evolving on Isla Francesca.
Kevin's feelings had nothing to do with seeing more smoke. He hadn't, but as dawn broke, he'd also consciously avoided looking out the window much less in the direction of the island. Kevin realized he couldn't go on like this. He decided that the most rational course of action would be to find out if his fears were justified. The best way to do it, he surmised, was to approach someone close to the situation who might be able to shed some light on Kevin's area of concern. But Kevin didn't feel comfortable talking with many people in the Zone. He'd never been very social, especially in Cogo, where he was the sole academician. But there was one working in the Zone with whom he felt slightly more comfortable, mainly because he admired his work: Bertram Edwards, the chief veterinarian. Impulsively Kevin removed his lab coat, draped it over his chair, and headed out of his office. Descending to the first floor, he exited into the steamy heat of the parking area north of the hospital. The
morning weather was clear, with white, puffy cumuli clouds overhead. There were some dark rain clouds
looming, but they were out over the ocean in a clump along the western horizon; if they brought rain, it wouldn't be before the afternoon.
Kevin climbed into his Toyota four-wheel drive and turned right out of the hospital parking lot. Traversing the north side of the town square, he passed the old Catholic church. GenSys had renovated the building to function as the recreational center. On Friday and Saturday nights they showed movies. Monday nights they had bingo. In the basement was a commissary serving American hamburgers. Bertram Edwards's office was at the veterinary center that was part of the far larger animal unit. The entire complex was bigger than Cogo itself. It was situated north of the town in a dense equatorial rain forest and separated from the town by a stretch of virgin jungle. Kevin's route took him east as far as the motor-pool facility, where he turned north. The traffic, which was considerable for such a remote spot, reflected the difficult logistics of running an operation the size of the Zone. Everything from toilet paper to centrifuge tubes had to be imported, which necessitated moving a lot of goods. Most supplies came by truck from Bata, where there was a crude deep-water port and an airport capable of handling large jet aircraft. The Estuario del Muni with access to Libreville, Gabon, was only served by motorized canoes.
At the edge of town the granite cobblestone street gave way to newly laid asphalt. Kevin let out a sigh of relief. The sound and the vibration that came up the steering column from the cobblestones was intense. After fifteen minutes of driving through a canyon of dark green vegetation, Kevin could see the first buildings of the state-of-the-art animal complex. They were constructed of prestressed concrete and cinder block that was stuccoed and painted white. The design had a Spanish flare to complement the Colonial architecture of the town.
The enormous main building looked more like an airport terminal than a primate housing facility. Its front facade was three stories tall and perhaps five hundred feet long. From the back of the structure projected multiple wings that literally disappeared into the canopy of vegetation. Several smaller buildings faced the main one. Kevin wasn't sure of their purpose except for two buildings in the center. One housed the complex's contingent of Equatoguinean soldiers. Just like their comrades in the town square, these soldiers were aimlessly sprawled about with their rifles, cigarettes, and Cameroonean beer. The other building was the headquarters of a group that Kevin found even more disturbing than the teenage soldiers. These were Moroccan mercenaries who were part of the Equatoguinean presidential guard. The local president didn't trust his own army. These foreign special-forces commandos dressed in inappropriate and ill-fitting dark suits and ties, with obvious bulges from their shoulder holsters. Every one of them had dark skin, piercing eyes, and a heavy mustache. Unlike the soldiers they were rarely seen, but their presence was felt like a sinister evil force. The sheer size of the GenSys animal center was a tribute to its success. Recognizing the difficulties attached to primate biomedical research, GenSys had sited their facility in Equatorial Africa where the animals were indigenous. This move cleverly sidestepped the industrialized West's inconvenient web of import/export restrictions associated with primates, as well as the disruptive influence of animal-rights zealots. As an added incentive, the foreign exchange-starved local government and its venal leaders were inordinately receptive to all a company like GenSys had to offer. Obstructive laws were conveniently overlooked or abolished. The legislature was so accommodating that it even passed a law making interference with GenSys a capital offense.
The operation proved to be extraordinarily successful so quickly that GenSys expanded it to serve as a
convenient spot for other biotechnology companies, especially pharmaceutical giants, to out-source their primate testing. The growth shocked the GenSys economic forecasters. From every point of view, the Zone was an impressive financial success. Kevin parked next to another four-wheel-drive vehicle. He knew it was Dr. Edwards's from the bumper sticker that said: Man is an Ape. He pushed through the double doors with "Veterinary Center" stenciled on the glass. Dr. Edwards's office and examining rooms were just inside the door. Martha Blummer greeted him. "Dr. Edwards is in the chimpanzee wing," she said. Martha was the veterinary secretary. Her husband was one of the supervisors at the motor pool. Kevin set off for the chimpanzee wing. It was one of the few areas in the building he was at all acquainted with. He went through a second pair of double doors and walked the length of the central corridor of the veterinary hospital. The facility looked like a regular hospital, down to its employees who were all dressed in surgical scrubs, many with stethoscopes draped over their necks. A few people nodded, others smiled, and some said hello to Kevin. He returned the greetings self-consciously. He didn't know any of these people by name. Another pair of double doors brought him into the main part of the building that housed the primates. The air had a slightly feral odor. Intermittent shrieks and howls reverberated in the corridor. Through doors with windows of wire-embedded glass, Kevin caught glimpses of large cages where monkeys were incarcerated. Outside the cages were men in coveralls and rubber boots, pulling hoses. The chimpanzee wing was one of the ells that extended from the back of the building into the forest. It, too, was three stories tall. Kevin entered on the first floor. Immediately the sounds changed. Now there was as much hooting as shrieking.
Cracking a door off the central corridor, Kevin got the attention of one of the workers in the coveralls. He asked about Dr. Edwards and was told the vet was in the bonobo unit. Kevin found a stairwell and climbed to the second floor. He thought it was a coincidence that Dr. Edwards happened to be in the bonobo unit just when Kevin was looking for him. It was through bonobos that Kevin and Dr. Edwards had met. Six years ago Kevin had never heard of a bonobo. But that changed rapidly when bonobos were selected as the subjects for his GenSys project. He now knew they were exceptional creatures. They were cousins of chimpanzees but had lived in isolation in a twenty-five-thousand-square-mile patch of virginal jungle in central Zaire for one and a half million years. In contrast to chimps, bonobo society was matriarchal with less male aggression. Hence, the bonobos were able to live in larger groups. Some people called them pygmy chimpanzees but the name was a misnomer because some bonobos were actually larger than some chimpanzees, and they were a distinct species. Kevin found Dr. Edwards in front of a relatively small acclimatization cage. He was reaching through the bars making tentative contact with an adult female bonobo. Another female bonobo was sitting against the back wall of the cage. Her eyes were nervously darting around her new accommodations. Kevin could sense her terror. Dr. Edwards was hooting softly in imitation of one of the many bonobo and chimpanzee sounds of