"Okay, " he said. "Okay. The truth is, as things stand, I have no direct proof of anything. But the circumstantial evidence supporting my belief is quite strong-at least to me it is."
"Tell me." Zack reviewed his impressions of Pearl and Mainwaring's gallbladder cases, and summarized his conversation with Tarberry at Johns Hopkins. He could see the anger smoldering in Barbara Nelms's eyes. In time, whether Toby survived or not, she would be out for blood.
And where once that notion had been the impetus to have him lie to her, now it goaded him to share every detail. Frank had been given his chance to clean house, but he had ignored it. "I wouldn't blame you a bit for being skeptical, " Zack said as he concluded his account, "but that's the way I see it."
"Dr. Iverson, " Barbara Nelms responded, her fury barely contained,
"this is the first time since this nightmare began that an explanation has fit with the facts as I know them. I believe every word you've told me. Every word."
She turned and stared out the window. Resting on the rim of her sling, her fist was clenched. Slowly, her fingers relaxed. The tension in her neck and back lessened. When she turned back to Zack, the anger had given way to determination. "Now then, Dr. Iverson, " she said, "what can we do to save my son?"
Zack took a moment to sort his thoughts. "Well, first of all," he said finally, "it would help tremendously if we could find the trigger."
"You mean the thing that sets Toby off?"
"Exactly."
"But how?"
"I want you to close your eyes, lean back, listen to my voice, and begin to tell me everything you can think of surrounding Toby's attacks.
Everything, no matter how trivial it may sound."
"Are you going to hypnotize me?"
"I can. And I will, if it seems appropriate. But I believe all you'll need is a little help. Now, relax as much as you can, open your mind, and let it drift back to Toby's very first episode."
"He… he was in his pajamas. "Good. Go on."
"It was before bed… He was playing… "Playing what?"
"I. I can't remember."
"Was he in his room?"
"Yes… No, no, wait. He ended up in his room, but I don't think he started there. He… he was in the den. He was watching television.
Yes, that's right. That's exactly right."
"Good. Very good. Now, what was he watching?"
"The show?"
"Yes."
"I… I can't remember."
"Just relax, Barbara. You're doing fine… Now, just open your mind to that evening and think about what he might have been watching… See it … Just relax, open your mind, and see it… The muscles in Barbara Nelms's face went slack. Her breathing became deeper and more regular.
"That's good, " Zack whispered. "That's very good."
Zack's words brought a strange, enigmatic smile to Barbara's mouth. "I know what he was watching, " she said. "Each time, I know what he was watching…"
CHAPTER TWENTY — TWO
Zack raced down the corridor at nearly a full run, hesitating only to glance into his father's room. The bed was stripped, and an aide was washing down the plastic mattress cover. He bolted through the stairway door and vaulted down to the first floor. A major piece in the puzzle had fallen into place-a piece that irrefutably connected Toby Nelms, Suzanne, and Jason Mainwaring. Now, Frank would have to listen. "My brother in? " he panted to the buxom, blond receptionist. Annette Dolan looked at him strangely. "He is, but-"
"Thank you, " Zack said, already on his way through Frank's office door.
Frank, behind his desk, working at his computer, looked up coolly. "You don't work here anymore, " he said. "Frank, I've got to talk to you.
I've learned something-something important."
"Mr. Iverson, I'm sorry. I tried to stop him, " Annette Dolan said from the doorway.
Frank smiled at her emotionlessly. "That's okay, Annette, " he said. "I know how persistent my little brother can be. I'm sure you did your best to stop him. Before you get back to work, though, why don't you go on home and change that sweater. It's not appropriate for the office."
The receptionist hesitated a beat, her lower lip quivering. Then she turned and hurried away. "Now, then, " Frank said, glancing at his watch, "what on earth could be important enough to take you away from your packing?"
Zack moved to sit down, but Frank stopped him with a raised hand. "Don't get comfortable, sport, " he said. "Just say what you want to say and leave." He motioned to the computer. "Number six now, Zack-o. Six out of nearly two hundred administrators nationwide. Not bad, if I do say so myself. No, siree, not bad at all."
V@ell, then you'd better listen to me, Frank. Because I've learned something that could bring this place crashing down about your ears if you don't do something about it."
There was no more than a flicker of interest. "Oh?"
"It's that anesthe ic, Frank. The one I tried to tell you about before."
"Go on."
"I just came from speaking with Mrs. Nelms, the mother of the boy in ICU."
"I know who she is, " Frank said. "Well, I was going over some of my concerns with her, and-"
"You what?"
"Frank, just calm down and listen."
"No, you listen. Do you have any idea how much of a nuisance that woman will be if you fill her with all that human experimentation bullshit of yours?"
"Frank, it's not bullshit. It's really happening, and you'd better help me do something about it or this place will be crawling with lawyers, hospital-certification people, and police. I promise you."
"Don't you dare threaten me."
"Well, then, will you please listen, for Chrissake? Suzanne's life may be on the line here, to say nothing of that poor kid in the ICU. We don't have much time."
Frank toyed with a paper clip for a few moments, straightened it, and then snapped it in two. "Okay, Bro, " he said finally. "You've got five minutes."
"They're experimenting with something, Frank-Mainwaring and Pearl.
They're fooling around with some sort of new general anesthe ic, and they think it's working fine, only it isn't. The patients look asleep during their surgery and even think they were asleep afterward. But at some level, just below their conscious surface, they were wide awake, experiencing the whole thing-the cutting, the blood, the pain, everything."
"Sport, I didn't believe you this morning, and I don't believe you now. py "Well, you'd better. I have proof "Oh?"
"It's the music, Frank.
"Greensleeves'-the music Mainwaring operates to."
"What in the hell are you-"
"Mainwaring nearly always works to one piece of music. It's a classical version of Greensleeves'-you know, the folk song from-"
"I know the tune, " Frank said testily. "Well, according to Mrs. Nelms, every time her kid had one of his seizures, he was watching a children's show where they play that melody."
"That's your proof?"
"There's more. Last week Suzanne and I were together, when suddenly she went blank, totally blank."
CHAPTER TWENTY — THREE
"Frank, that tune was playing on the radio. As soon as I shut it off, she snapped out of whatever place she was in, and kept on talking as if nothing had ever happened. I didn't put together what was going on until just now. She was on her way, Frank. I'm sure now that if I had left the radio on a little longer, she would have had a seizure just like the kid's. She was on her way to reliving her breast operation-probably in some bizarre, distorted way-just the way Toby kept reexperiencing his hernia repair."
"This is ridiculous."
"It's fact, Frank. Listen, you've got to help me find Mainwaring, or at least help me try and reason with Pearl."
"No way."
"That child is dying. We need to know what they gave him."
Frank picked up the phone and dialed. "Chief Clifford, Frank Iverson here, " he said. "That restraining order I asked you for ready yet?"