The recordings ended. Eddie sat back at the table. Merlin said, “That’s it? No more?” Eddie replied, “Maybe that’s the way they were all the time in private, Uno. Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde. Nice all the time to friends in public, at each other’s throats at home.”
“No, if that were the case, Kelley wouldn’t have been surprised at their behavior. That kid is being exposed to this for the first time. Besides, if the parents were always like this, I can’t see them spending all that time with us. They’d never control themselves, not with that much rage in the air.”
“I guess,” Eddie said. “But you never really know what goes on between a couple.”
“What was that about light hurting?” Merlin said.
“Call the hospital. Ranjay must have started screening the blood, hair, and tissue by now.”
Could a mold have caused the symptoms? We headed back to the research camp to search for stachybotrys, a green/black compound that could, if breathed in or ingested, produce aches, pains, fevers, cough, mood sensitivity, and immune suppression.
Poisons? Sengupta ran chemistry panels, seeking evidence of heavy metals or lead exposure or unidentified poisons in the blood.
Eddie explained to Merlin, “We ought to have an idea of toxics in a day, two at most.”
The redhead? Merlin said she was probably over at Borough Hall, carrying a “STOP LONGHORN NORTH” placard at a public hearing today where Dave and Deborah Lillienthal were testifying. He sent two detectives to find her.
By the end of the day I’d found no evidence of mold or gas residue at the cabin, and the yellow crime-scene tape was broken in one place, beaten down, bear tracks at that spot, and lumbering off into the tundra. The ground was wet and we found no human footprints. Merlin made a thorough search. No people had been here since yesterday.
At the hospital, Dr. Sengupta’s initial tests found, “No arsenic in the bloodstreams,” he reported via phone. “No heavy metals so far, no raised lead levels, no illegal drugs. And no flu. Lungs clear. No infection in the blood. No hypo or bite marks anywhere I can see.”
“Didn’t hurt to check.”
“However!” he said, excited. “All four of them had raised white blood cell counts, sixteen thousand in Clay Qaqulik, fourteen to fifteen thousand in the parents and the girl. So there’s an invader in there, but I’ve not found any virus or bacteria so far. I’m going with something chemical. Gas, maybe. They breathe it. It dissipates in air. But wood can absorb it. Cabin scrapings may show it.”
“We have the scrapings. Maybe you’ll see something we missed.”
I reported to the admiral as ordered and when he heard the test results he seemed less anxious. “No germs? Then that’s it for you two,” he said. “No connection! Get back to work, finish your survey. General Homza is breathing down my neck, just waiting for a chance to shut us down. I want to hear that you agree.”
“Back to the mission, sir,” I said.
“We’re giving up?” said Eddie when I clicked off.
“If it weren’t for Kelley’s phone call, it would have been a suicide/shooting,” I answered. “No question. If Kelley hadn’t made the recording, it would have been chalked up to one more piece of bad luck. Tragic accident. Autopsy shows death by shotgun. End of story, man.”
I punched in numbers in Washington, heard the phone ring on the other end, heard Valley Girl pick up in the computer section. She’d been instructed by the admiral’s secretary earlier to “Give Colonel Rush what he needs,” and so now remained under the impression that I could demand any accessible information, and she was to comply.
“I want to know about any studies or tests in Alaska, where any sort of radioactive material was deposited, especially on the North Slope. Seventy-year period. Note the ones we already know about and see if there’s something we don’t.”
“Yes, Colonel.”
“See what you can find on grants given scientists over that same period by the Defense Threat Reduction Agency. Anything related to toxics or germ tests.”
Eddie’s eyes were bigger now, and he nodded, meaning, Go get ’em, One.
Valley Girl asked, “How deep, sir?”
“Bottom of the sea. Run all service branches. Including Defense Security Service,” I said, naming the Pentagon agency responsible for providing protection to private companies doing defense work. DSS helped out with electronic alarms, executive protection, armored cars, and even factory personnel screening. “Alaska. I want companies contracted to work on biowarfare. I want exact tests, years, and results. University research partners. Got it?”
“Colonel,” said Valley Girl excitedly, chewing her signature gum. “Is something happening in Alaska?”
“You are not to discuss this with anyone, even at the unit, get it?”
She sounded intimidated. “Of course, sir.”
“You’re the best we have,” I soothed. “So if you see something that doesn’t make sense to you, too much money for a small project, too little explanation of a test, extra money for cleanup, anything odd, a gap, a closed file, a reference, use your judgment. I trust you.”
Now her voice was happier. “Yes, sir!”
I clicked off. Eddie sighed. “Well, there goes our government grant work when we go private.”
“Who needs it? We’ll be capitalists, Eddie. No more government dole for us!”
“I got news for you, Uno. When we’re in Leavenworth prison, that’s government dole.”
I smiled. “Why? I never told Valley Girl that anything I’m asking for relates to the Harmons. It’s all mission. Background.” I smiled. “Chickening out, Marine?”
“Galli will go apeshit.”
I sighed. “I like the admiral, Dos, but right now he’s more worried about Wayne Homza. Galli knew exactly what he was getting when he asked me to stay.”
“The Light Brigade strikes again!”
“We find the redheaded woman, Eddie. And Kelley’s boyfriend, Leon Kavik. This could all have nothing to do with Washington. Or testing. It’s Friday night in Barrow, so I have a good idea of where those two may be.”
SIX
I wanted to speak to Kelley’s boyfriend. I ignored the voice in my head telling me that I should be with Karen. That it was 9 P.M. on a Friday night and I’d been working for over twenty-four hours. That I’d told her I’d take a break and meet her at the weekly roller rink dance. Instead, I called her to explain I’d be late.
“No problem,” said Karen, with the barest hesitation. Perhaps I’d not heard it at all.
“Give me till ten,” I said, as the Ford’s headlights swung off road, illuminated the Iñupiat Heritage Center.
The little voice in my head said, Hey, isn’t this how it started with your ex-wife? With excuses? Wasn’t this what you said you wouldn’t do if you fell in love again?
Getting out of the truck, I told that voice that Karen was a different person, not like my ex-wife. I told that voice, eyeing the two-story-high museum where Leon Kavik worked: Karen has security clearance. She understands the importance of this. Sengupta’s toxic screens haven’t come up with any hits. Maybe the boy can help.
The Heritage Center sat on North Street, near Arctic Family Medicine, the home for the elderly, and across the road from what looked like a small wooden shack but was an entrance to Barrow’s oddest feature, a three-hundred-million-dollar, 3.2-mile-long underground tunnel carved into permafrost, snaking through the city, to bring potable water from the lagoon, fiber optics and phone lines. Inside the tunnel, temperatures remained at forty-eight degrees.