“We don’t know, but we think not. Apparently, Alex never knew where to find her None of us did until Peter did,” he added quietly. “And where is Alex now?”
Wolfe and Henderson exchanged glances. “He’s gone AWOL,” said Henderson. Vanished without a trace.” “You don’t think he’s with them, do you? Peter and, what did you say her name was? Elizabeth?” “I highly doubt it,” said Wolfe. “Third wheel and all that. Understand, I rue the day that I allowed Alex in on the project. He was too damn curious. He must have gotten into the encrypted files somehow. Just like a big kid, really, going through his parents’ dresser drawers to see what he can find.” Wolfe took out his pack of Gauloises and offered one to Beatrice. “And what does this woman do for a living?” said Beatrice, accepting the cigarette. “Beatrice,” said Wolfe, “you don’t need to torture yourself.” Keep it up, he thought, lighting her Gauloise. “I just asked you a question.”
“She’s a photographer’s model.”
“I see. So she’s very beautiful?”
“You don’t have to worry, Mrs. Jance,” Henderson said. “We’ll get her.” “Beatrice. I’m not Mrs. Jance anymore,” she said, her voice cold as ice. “And Peter isn’t Peter anymore. I think I knew that from the start. If I had been completely honest with myself I could have spared my-self a great deal of grief and worry. “I’m relieved to hear that,” said Wolfe. Relieved? Her words thrilled him. “He fucked us all,” Henderson put in gracelessly. “He’s a danger we can’t ignore.” She nodded, her eyes dead. “I suppose not,” she said. “Do you think he’s told this model who he really is?” “Oh,” said Wolfe, “I doubt that very much.” “Depends on how much in love he is,” said Beatrice. She smiled sadly. “I don’t think he’s in love with her,” Wolfe said, trying to regain ground. “It’s more or less an animal thing under these circumstances. Beatrice looked away. “Even so, I’d guess Peter’s come clean,” she said. “I know him.” “In which case she’ll probably’ head for the hills, wouldn’t you think?” Beatrice examined her fingernails. “Or perhaps try to alert the media? In which case, what?” She looked back up at him and there was fire in her eyes now. “You have orders to terminate her?” “Well,” said Wolfe, “no.”
“Why not? If Peter’s expendable, why isn’t she? Or do you intend to use her as bait to lure him back into the fold?” “No,” said Wolfe, “we don’t intend to use her as bait.” “So why not just kill her?”
He looked at her full-on. “Because,” he said, “she’s essential to our future.” Beatrice started back at him. “I don’t think I understand.” Wolfe drew on his cigarette and tried to continue casually. “She was born in Vieques. She may have been seen by somebody who knew her. We have to be extremely careful.” Beatrice cocked her head, her mind now racing. “Was her father in the Navy by any chance?” “Yes,” said Wolfe.
“And did she come through your clinic?” she asked. “Possibly.”
“Well,” said Beatrice. “That’s interesting.” She said this last as though it were the understatement of the century, then rose and walked to the rear of the plane, taking a seat near to where Russell sat sharpening a knife on a whetstone. He folded it into his pocket when he saw her, then got up and joined the men at the front of the plane. Beatrice lay her head against the window Looking back, Wolfe saw that she was crying. He went and sat beside her, offering his handkerchief. “I’m sorry;” he said. “This is hell for you, I know” “How long have we known each other, Freddy?” “I don’t know;” said Wolfe gently “I believe it was after the glaciers retreated, but I’m not certain of the exact date.” She laughed mirthlessly and rested her head briefly on his shoulder. Wolfe closed his eyes and smelled her scent, his heart pounding. “I do trust you,” she said quietly She opened her hand and allowed him to take it in his. “I hope you do,” he said carefully “Ever since we met, I’ve wanted you to be happy. In your work, in your marriage. And now that the latter is gone, I feel an impulse to protect you as well. I hope you’ll let me do that now. Protect and preserve, you do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?” He checked back over his shoulder, making sure Henderson and Russell were engaged in their own conversation, then leaned closer’ to Beatrice. The sparkle in her eyes was emboldening him: “For as long as we’re together.” “So where do we go from here?” she asked. He inhaled deeply. “We’ve still got risks to assess. The cerebral events Peter experienced, the mini-strokes, they continue to pose a life-threatening problem, though I’m confident the sclerotic changes are reversible if the rest of the organism is healthy. We know a good deal more now She traced the veins of his hand with her finger. “You’re going to operate again.” “The work must go on. There’s still so much to learn. This time it should be easier.” She nodded. “Is he abroad or is he in the U.S.?” “The subject?”
“The clone,” she affirmed.
“New York.”
“Is that our eventual destination? New York City?” “Yes,” he answered. She lifted his hand to her Lips. “Thank you for telling me all this.” “You’re welcome.” He sat beside her for a long moment gathering his courage, then added: “And I don’t suppose it’s been any secret, either. This most powerful feeling I’ve had for you all these years… I Love you, Beatrice. And as right as he might have seemed, I have al-ways felt that Peter was somehow wrong for you. She gave a small shrug and caressed his hand sadly. “I suppose he proved that, didn’t he?” “Completely,” said Wolfe.
“And your intuition is correct. I have known all along what you’ve felt for me,” she said quietly. “Thank you for saying it, finally; and thank you, Freddy; for making things easier for me.” “We will be together, Beatrice,” he said. “For a long, long time. I have every confidence.” “So do I, Freddy,” she said. She kissed his hand. “And now, if you’ll excuse me?” She waited until Wolfe swung his legs out of her way, touched his cheek, then walked down the aisle to the rest room and locked the door. After the lights flickered on, she stepped close to the mirror and studied her face, running her fingers over her cheeks, her eyes, her hair. She looked at herself for several minutes, with only the faintest tremor, then turned and lifted the commode’s seat, kneeled over it and vomited for the first time since she had stopped drinking fortyfive years ago. She didn’t stop until everything she had shared with those men-every whiff of cigar smoke, every cigarette, every ounce of liquor or wine she had accepted from them-was out of her system and flushed into oblivion. Beatrice Jance stood up and took out her makeup case. For as long as she remained with this madman and his sycophants, it was important that she look normal. Absolutely normal. And, by Cod, she would. Even if it killed her. ***
As soon as the Learjet landed in Puerto Rico, Lieutenant Roger Thornton, a stocky U.S. Ranger who ran the security force at Roosevelt Roads, briefed Henderson. Wolfe and Russell listened carefully. Everywhere they looked there were troops and semi-armored vehicles. The airport was under siege. “We sealed it and searched it, Colonel. There’s no way Dr. Jance or anybody with hi m got through the fence, We have vehicles every hundred yards.” “But you don’t have Jance,” said Henderson. “No, sir, we did not find him.”
“What about the terminal, the baggage dock?” asked Russell. “Sir, my troops have searched every building, shed and vehicle on the grounds, as well as every plane.” “Any aircraft take off since the crash?” asked Henderson, whose ears were turning red with fury “Only one, sir. American Flight 99. It was midway through its takeoff roll when we sealed the airport. But we’d already searched the aircraft thoroughly.” “Where’s it headed?”
“Miami International, sir. Should have landed about five minutes ago. “Then I want a team at every gate five minutes ago!” he screamed, sprinting back toward the Learjet. The others scrambled to catch up, while Beatrice Jance watched intently from the window.
MIAMI, FLORIDA
For twenty minutes after American Flight 99 landed at Miami International, Peter and Elizabeth remained in Mary Blanchard’s galley bay. After all the passengers and crew had disembarked, Mary came for them. They emerged from the elevator and slipped down the jetway service stairs. With Mary’s card, they entered without incident through a service personnel door, passing through the flight attendants’ lounge, down another flight of concrete stairs and through the chaos of baggage handling. Since Mary knew many of the people in these behind-the-scenes areas, they moved quickly and without challenge. If anyone noticed them at all, they were thought to be passengers on an escorted search for lost luggage. Mary brought them into the public space of the airport near Baggage Carousel 3, which was at the moment tumbling out luggage from an arriving flight from Chicago. The area was a maelstrom of exhausted passengers, pushing and shoving, grabbing bags and wheeling carts, all eager to be out of the airport and into the southern Florida sunshine. “This is it for me!” Mary said to Elizabeth and Peter. “You gonna be okay?” “Thank you, Mary Thank you so very much,” Elizabeth said with tears in her eyes, giving Mary a quick hug. Then they were on their own, weaving through the crowd, heading for the door. Their clothes were still caked with dried mud, causing a few heads to turn. “Try to smile,” Peter said. “And make it look a little like we’re together.” She said nothing.