“Why didn’t you use the phone in the empty reception area?” Kim asked.
“They listen when I go there too,” he said.
“Through the walls?” she questioned.
“I’ve got to call the goddamn head of the Harvard Licensing Office,” Edward complained, ignoring Kim’s comment. “That jerk has launched a personal vendetta against me.” Edward opened his address book to find the number.
“Could it be that he’s just doing his job?” Kim asked, knowing this was an ongoing controversy.
“You think he’s doing his job by getting me suspended?” Edward yelled. “It’s incredible! I never would have guessed the little dick-headed bureaucrat had the nerve to pull off such a stunt.”
Kim felt her heart pounding. Edward’s tone reminded her of the glass-throwing episode in his apartment. She was afraid to say anything else.
“Ah, well,” Edward said in a completely calm tone of voice. He smiled. “Such is life. There’s always these little ups and downs.” He sat down and dialed his number.
Kim allowed herself to relax a degree, but she didn’t take her eyes off Edward. She listened while he had a civilized conversation with the man he’d just railed against. When he got off the phone he said that the man was quite reasonable after all.
“As long as I’m here,” Edward said, “I’ll dash upstairs and get the dry cleaning together that you asked me to take care of yesterday.”
Edward started for the stairs.
“But you already got the dry cleaning together,” Kim said. “You must have done it this morning, because I found it when I got up.”
Edward stopped and blinked as if he were confused. “I did?” he asked. Then he added: “Well, good for me! I should be getting right back to the lab anyway.”
“Edward?” Kim called to him before he went out the front door. “Are you all right? You’ve been forgetting little things lately.”
Edward laughed. “It’s true,” he said. “I’ve been a bit forgetful. But I’ve never felt better. I’m just preoccupied. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel, and we’re all about to be extremely rich. And that includes you. I spoke to Stanton about giving you some stock, and he agreed. So you’ll be part of the big payoff.”
“I’m flattered,” Kim said.
Kim went to the window and watched Edward walk back to the lab. She watched him the whole way, pondering his behavior. He was now more congenial toward her on the whole, but he was also unpredictable.
Impulsively Kim got her car keys and headed into town. She needed to talk to someone professional whose opinion she valued. Conveniently, Kinnard was still in the area. Using the phone at the information desk in the Salem Hospital, she had him paged.
A half hour later he met her in the coffee shop. He was dressed in surgical scrub clothes, having come directly from surgery. She had been nursing a cup of tea.
“I hope I’m not bothering you terribly,” Kim said the moment he sat down across from her.
“It’s good to see you,” Kinnard said.
“I needed to ask a question,” she said. “Could forgetfulness be a side effect of a psychotropic drug?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “But I have to qualify that by saying that a lot of things can affect short-term memory. It’s a very nonspecific symptom. Should I assume that Edward is having such a problem?”
“Can I count on your discretion?” she asked.
“I’ve already told you as much,” Kinnard said. “Are Edward and his team still taking the drug?”
Kim nodded.
“They’re crazy,” Kinnard said. “They’re just asking for trouble. Have you noticed any other effects?”
Kim gave a short laugh. “You wouldn’t believe it,” she said. “They’re all having a dramatic response. Before they started the drug they were bickering with each other and sullen. Now they are all in great moods. They couldn’t be any happier or more content. They act as if they’re having a ball even though they continue to work at the same feverish pace.”
“That sounds like a good effect,” Kinnard said.
“In some respects,” Kim admitted. “But after you’ve been with them for a while you sense something weird, like they are all too similar and tedious despite their hilarity and their industriousness.”
“Now it sounds a little like Brave New World,” Kinnard said with a chuckle.
“Don’t laugh,” Kim said. “I thought of the same thing. But that’s more of a philosophical issue, and it’s not my immediate concern. What has me worried is the forgetfulness Edward has been exhibiting with silly everyday things. And it seems to be getting worse. I don’t know if the other people are experiencing it or not.”
“What are you going to do?” Kinnard asked.
“I don’t know,” Kim said. “I was hoping you could either definitively confirm my fears or dispel them. I guess you can’t do either.”
“Not with any degree of certainty,” Kinnard admitted. “But I can say something you can think about. Perceptions are extraordinarily influenced by expectations. That’s why double-blind studies have been instituted in medical research. There is a possibility that your expectation to see negative effects from Edward’s drug is affecting what you see. I know Edward is extraordinarily smart, and it doesn’t make much sense to me that he would take any unreasonable risk.”
“You have a point,” Kim said. “It’s true that at the moment I don’t know what I’m seeing. It could all be in my head, but I don’t think so.”
Kinnard glanced at the wall clock and had to excuse himself to do a case. “I’m sorry to cut this short,” he said, “but I’m here for the next few days if you want to talk more. Otherwise I’ll see you in the SICU in Boston.”
The moment they parted, Kinnard gave her hand a squeeze. She squeezed back and thanked him for listening to her.
Arriving back at the compound, Kim went directly to the castle. She had a few words with the plumbers, who insisted they were making good progress but that they’d need another three days or so to finish. They also suggested they should check the guest wing for the same problem. Kim told them to do whatever was needed.
Before going down to the wine cellar, Kim inspected the two entrances to the wings. She was appalled when she saw the one to the servants’ quarters. Not only was there dirt on the stairs, but there were also some sticks and leaves. Even an empty container for Chinese take-out food was in the corner near the door.
Swearing under her breath, Kim went to the cleaning closet, got out a mop and a bucket, and cleaned the stairway. The dirt had been tracked up to the first landing.
After she’d cleaned everything up, Kim walked to the front door, picked up the outdoor mat, and carried it around to the entrance to the servants’ wing. She thought about putting up a note, but then thought the mat should be message enough.
Finally Kim descended into the depths of the wine cellar and got to work. Although she did not find any documents even close to the seventeenth century, her concentration served to free her mind from her concerns, and she slowly began to relax.
At one o’clock Kim took a break. She went back to the cottage and let Sheba out while she had some lunch. Before she returned to the castle she made sure the cat was back in the house. At the castle she chatted with the plumbers for a few minutes and watched Albert deftly make some seals on water-supply pipes with his blowtorch. Finally she got back to work, this time in the attic.
Kim was again becoming discouraged when she found a whole folder of material from the era she was interested in. With excitement she carried it over to one of the dormered windows.
She was not surprised when the papers turned out to be business-related. A few of them were in Ronald’s easily recognizable script. Then Kim caught her breath. Out of the customs documents and bills of lading she pulled a piece of personal correspondence. It was a letter to Ronald from Thomas Goodman.