Выбрать главу

Everyone nodded.

“It was only a drop or two,” said Lily. “Just like a baby’s reflex, sucking up the fluid.”

“This can be rewarded and strengthened!” said Mona. “Christ, maybe she likes the taste of the food!”

“Yes, surely that would make a difference to her,” said Pierce. “We can try periodically to…”

The doctor nodded placatingly and gestured for attention:

“At any time,” he said, “that Rowan’s heart does stop, she will not be resuscitated by artificial means. No one will give her any injections, or pump oxygen into her. There is no respirator here. She will be allowed to die as God wills. Now, because you ask me, I must tell you. This could go on indefinitely. It could stop at any time. Patients like this have been known to survive for years. A few have come back, true. Others die within days. All we can say now is that Rowan’s body is restoring itself-from her injuries, from the malnutrition she suffered. But the brain…the brain cannot be restored in the same way.”

“But she could live into another era,” said Pierce eagerly, “into a time of some momentous new discovery.”

“Absolutely,” said the doctor. “And every conceivable medical possibility will be explored. Neurological consultations will begin tomorrow. It is easily within our means to bring every neurologist of note to this house to see Rowan. We will do it. We will meet periodically to discuss treatments. We will always be open to the possibility of a surgical procedure or some other experiment which could restore Rowan’s mentation. But let me remind you, my friends, this is not very likely. There are patients throughout the world in this condition. The electro-encephalogram confirms that there is almost no brain activity in Rowan at all.”

“Can’t they transplant a piece of somebody’s brain into her?” asked Gerald.

“I volunteer,” said Mona dryly. “Take as many cells as you want. I’ve always had more than everybody else here.”

“You don’t have to get nasty, Mona,” said Gerald, “I was just asking a simple-”

“I’m not getting nasty,” said Mona, “what I’m suggesting is that we need to read up on this and not make inane statements. Brain transplants aren’t done. Not the kind she needs, anyway. Rowan is a vegetable! Don’t you get it?”

“That’s unfortunately the truth,” said the doctor softly. “ ‘Persistent vegetative state’ is only a little kinder, perhaps. But that is the case. We can and should pray for miracles. And a time will come when perhaps the collective decision will be made to withhold fluids and lipids. But at this juncture such a decision would be murder. It cannot be done.”

With a few handshakes and thank-yous, the doctor now made his way to the front door.

Ryan took the chair at the head of the table. He was a little more rested than yesterday, and seemed eager to make his report.

There was still no news whatsoever of Rowan’s kidnapper or captor. There had been no further assaults on Mayfair women. The decision had been made to notify the authorities about “the man” in a limited way.

“We have made a sketch, which Michael has approved. We have added the hair and the mustache and beard described by witnesses. We are requesting an interstate search. But no one, and I mean no one, in this room is to speak of this matter outside the family. No one is to give any more information than is necessary to the agencies who will cooperate with us.”

“You’ll only hurt the investigation,” said Randall, “if you go talking devils and spirits.”

“We are dealing with a man,” said Ryan. “A man who walks and talks and wears clothes like other men. We have considerable circumstantial evidence to indicate he kidnapped and imprisoned Rowan. There is no need to bring in any chemical evidence right now.”

“In other words keep the blood samples under wraps,” said Mona.

“Exactly,” Ryan said. “When this man is caught, then we can come forward with more details of the story. And the man himself will be living proof of what is alleged. Now Aaron has some things to say.”

Michael could see this was no pleasure for Aaron. He had been sitting silent throughout the meeting, beside Beatrice, who kept her fingers wrapped protectively about his arm. He was dressed somberly in dark blue, more like the rest of the family, as though he had put his old tweed style away. He looked not like an Englishman now but a southerner, Michael thought. Aaron shook his head as if to express some silent appreciation of what lay before them all. Then he spoke.

“What I have to say won’t come as a surprise to you. I have severed my connection with the Talamasca. Things have been done by members of our Order-apparently-which have violated the trust of the family. I ask that all of you now regard the Talamasca as a hostile agency, and do not give any cooperation to anyone claiming connection with it from now on.”

“This wasn’t Aaron’s fault,” said Beatrice.

“How interesting that you would say this,” said Fielding dourly. He had been all this time as quiet as Aaron, and his voice now commanded immediate attention, as it usually did. His brown suit with its pinstripe of pink seemed as old as he was. He seemed bound to exercise the privilege of the very old-to say exactly what he thought.

“You realize,” he said to Aaron, “that all this began with you, don’t you?”

“That’s not true,” Aaron said, calmly.

“Ah, but it is true,” said Fielding. “You were in contact with Deirdre Mayfair when she became pregnant with Rowan. You have…”

“This is inappropriate, and badly timed,” said Ryan. His voice was steady but uncompromising. “This family investigates everyone who becomes involved with it by way of marriage or even sometimes in casual social affairs. This man was, as much as I dislike to admit it, thoroughly investigated by us when he first came here. He is not connected with what happened. He is what he says he is-a scholar, who has been observing this family because of his access to certain historical documents regarding it, about which he has been painfully and fully candid from the start.”

“You’re sure of that?” asked Randall. “The history of the family as we know it-is the history which this man had given us, this Talamasca File on the Mayfair Witches as it is so audaciously called, and now we find ourselves embroiled in events which make sense in terms of this file.”

“Oh, so you two are in this together,” said Beatrice in a cold small voice, very unlike herself.

“This is preposterous,” said Lauren softly. “Are you trying to imply that Aaron Lightner was responsible for the events he documented? Good heavens, have you no memory of the things that you yourself have seen and heard?”

Ryan interrupted: “The Talamasca was thoroughly investigated in the nineteen-fifties by Carlotta,” he said. “Her investigation was hardly sympathetic. She was looking for legal grounds to attack the organization. She found none. There has been no grim conspiracy originating with the Talamasca against us.”

Lauren spoke up again, decisively, drowning out at once the other voices which struggled to be heard.

“There is absolutely nothing to be gained from pursuing this question,” she said. “Our tasks are simple. We take care of Rowan. And we find this man.” She looked at the others, one by one, first those to her right, then those to her left, then those across the table from her, and finally at Aaron. She went on:

“The historical records of the Talamasca have been of invaluable help to us in tracing the history of our family. Anything which can be verified has been verified without a single contradiction or flaw.”