Gin watched in wonder. "That's incredible, " she said.

She stepped to the counter for a closer look. Only minute shreds of the implant membranes remained floating in the puddle.

"How does it work? " '"I altered the crystal-protein matrix, " Oliver said as he unplugged the ultrasound unit. "I made it more stable, more resistant to the body's tissue enzymes, but I rigged it so that at a certain ultrasonic frequency, the crystals vibrate and dissolve the matrix. As a result, the implant membrane collapses and releases its contents."

"Brilliant."

"Duncan's idea, actually." Somewhere in the rear of Gin's mind, a bell chimed a sour note.

"Duncan's? " "Yes. He wants more control over when the implants dissolve. As he says, why leave the iming up to the vagaries of the circulatory system and the tissue enzymes? Let's develop implants that empty when we tell them to." She remembered what she'd said to Gerry after the Guidelines hearing earlier in the week. And not only can this miracle toxin do all these different things, but Duncan has such control over it that he can make it go into eMfert on command.

It had sounded so absurd then, but the means were staring her in the face.

"Is . . . is Duncan using these yet? " "Oh, no. The FDA approved us to do clinical trials with the original implants only." He flashed a smile. "The Original Recipe, you might say.

We'll have to go through the whole approval process again for the new membrane."

"Oh. So these are brand new." That's a relief, Duncan couldn't have used the new implants if they hadn't existed at the times of the surgeries.

But the relief was short-lived.

"Not really, " Oliver said. "I've been working on them for most of the year. And they're still not perfected yet." ie Gin swallowed.

"Looks like they work pretty well to me."

"Not good enough yet for Duncan. He wants a more stable membrane, one that will last almost indefinitely until hit with the right ultrasound frequency." "Do you see any clinical purpose in that? " Oliver shook his head.

"No. But Duncan's the doctor, not me. He knows what he wants." Gin helped Oliver mop up the saline with paper towels, but all the while her thoughts were looping in wild circles. She slowed them down, straightened them out. She had to approach this logically, like a diagnostic puzzle. Lay out the facts first, then draw conclusions.

All right, Duncan did have the means to implant a toxin of some sort inside his patients and release it at will.

No, not at will. He had to zap it with ultra-high-frequency sound.

If Duncan had been responsible for what had happened to Senator Vincent, he'd have had to wheel an ulttasound machine into the hearing room and point it at the senator.

Ridiculous.

Still, the ultrasound demonstration left a residue on her thoughts, a sour mental aftertaste.

She went looking for Duncan. She'd forgotten to check with him about putting in a few extra hours here until the hearings got underway again.

And she needed to talk to him, to reassure herself.

"Oh, he's gone, " Barbara told her as Gin went to knock on Duncan's office door.

"Out with the mysterious Dr. V. , I suppose? " "No. Dr. V.'s not due back for a while. Dr. D. said he was heading for the golf course.

" "Damn. I wanted to catch him before he left."

"He's not gone all that long. I'll try his car phone." Barbara punched in some numbers, waited, then hung up. "No luck there.

I can page him for you."

"No. I don't want him coming off the golf course just to talk to me.

It's not that imporrant. What's the number of his club? Maybe he's still in the clubhouse."

"Want me to call for you? " "No, thanks.

I'll call him myself." Barbara looked it up and wrote it down.

Gin used The records-room phone. First she tried The club dining room, but he wasn't there. Then she tried the pro shop. Maybe she could catch him before he started his round.

"Doc Lathram? " said the chief caddy. "Haven't got a tee time for him."

"Maybe he's playing with someone else."

"Maybe, but I ain't seen the Doc round here for months." '"Are you sure? " '"Missy, I'm here just hour every day. Doc Larhram's been a member here forever, but it must be six months since I put his bags on the back of a cart.

But if he shows up I'll give him a message if you want."

"No, " Gin said. "Never mind." What's that all about? she thought as she hung up. When he hasn't been bitching about the kakistocracy, it's been about his golf, his slice, his bogies, complaining about the condition of the greens.

So what's he been up to?

Not golf, obviously. What else had he been Lying about?

Gin was uncomfortable. She didn't like the idea of Duncan Lying, to her or anyone else.

On impulse she went back upstairs and returned to Duncan's office.

"I left some papers on his desk, " she told Barbara as she breezed by her.

Great, she thought as she swung the door open. Now I'm Lying too.

Tense and uneasy, feeling like a sneak, she went to the big partners desk and tugged on the top drawer. It wouldn't budge. Locked.

Damn.

- She dropped into his chair and slouched there, swinging back and forth, wondering what to do.

What, if anything, was going on here? And what should she, could she, do?

Most likely it was all just nothing, but she had to ask herself, Did Duncan have anything to do with those four dead or damaged legislators?

Probably not. Their deaths, accidents, and illnesses weren't really linked . . . just one of those weird coincidences that sometimes occur.

. . the kind of coincidence that gts conspiracy theories started.

Still, why was he Lying about where he went when he cut out of here early every afternoon? Did that really matter?

But she had seen an injection vial of something in Duncan's top drawer, also some sort of trocar. Why were they -- there? What was in that bottle? Why did he keep the drawer locked?

Damn! She hated doubting Duncan like this. But why wasn't he where he'd said he'd be? Where the hell was he?

Duncan removed the dressing from Kanesha's face and studied his work.

He gripped her chin and gently turned her head back and forth.

Reflexively her hand fluttered up to cover the area of the surgery.

Duncan gently pulled the hand away and pressed it against her hip.

"No need to do that anymore, Kanesha." The thick, stiff wad of scar tissue thu had held the left side of her mouth prisoner was gone. In its place were a pair of healing hairline incisions and a normal-looking angle of the mouth. Duncan was pleased. But now the most important test.

'"Smile for me, Kanesha." Again the hand came up and covered that corner of her mouth. She looked at her mother. Her expression said, Get me out of here.

"C'mon, Neesh, " said her mother. "Smile for Dr. Duncan." Duncan pulled the child's hand down again and stood her on the chair.

He turned her toward the mirror on the wall.

'"Look at that girl in there, " he said. "What do you think of her? " Kanesha stared at herself in silence for a moment, then leaned forward for a closer look. Her left hand came up again, this time not to cover, but to touch, to confirm that what she saw was real.

Duncan watched her, waiting for a smile. And the smile was important.

Kanesha's had been a tougher piece of surgery than he'd anticipated. The scarring had gone deeper than usual, not only had he had to free up all the subcutaneous layers, but he'd had to do a partial reconstruction of the perioral musculature. A smile was the only way he'd know how successful he'd been.

"Well? " he said. "Don't keep me in suspense, little girl. Has Kaneshe Green got something to smile about or not? " He poked a wiggling finger into her flank, tickling her. She giggled, and with that giggle came a smile. An enormous smile, bright, even, symmetrical.