Melanie and Candace stared at Kevin across the table. For a few minutes, no one said a word. The night sounds of the jungle drifted in, which until then no one had heard.

After feeling progressively uncomfortable, Kevin finally broke the silence. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,” he said. “I’ll think of something.”

“Like hell you will,” Melanie said. “You already said the only way to find out what those animals are doing is to visit the island. Those were your words. Have you forgotten?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” Kevin said. “It’s just that… well…”

“That’s okay,” Melanie said condescendingly. “If you’re too chicken to go and find out what you might have done with your genetic tinkering, fine. We were counting on you coming to help run the motor in the pirogue, but that’s okay. Candace and I can manage. Right, Candace?”

“Right,” Candace said.

“You see we’ve planned this out pretty carefully,” Melanie said. “Not only did we rent the large, motorized canoe, but we had them bring back a smaller, paddle version as well. We plan to tow the paddle boat. Once we get to the island, we’ll paddle up the Rio Diviso. Maybe we won’t even have to go on land at all. All we want to do is observe the animals for a while.”

Kevin nodded. He looked back and forth between the two women who were relentlessly staring at him. Acutely uncomfortable, he scraped back his chair and started from the room.

“Where are you going?” Melanie asked.

“To get more wine,” Kevin said.

With strange emotion akin to anger, Kevin got a third bottle of white Burgundy, opened it, and brought it back into the dining room. He gestured with it toward Melanie and she nodded. Kevin filled her glass. He did the same to Candace. Then he filled his own.

After taking his seat, Kevin took a healthy swig of wine. He coughed a little after swallowing, and then asked when they planned on going on their great expedition.

“Tomorrow, bright and early,” Melanie said. “We figure it will take a little over an hour to get to the island, and we’d like to be back before the sun gets really strong.”

“We already got food and drink from the commissary,” Candace said. “And I got a portable cooler from the hospital to pack it in.”

“We’ll stay far away from the bridge and the staging area,” Melanie said. “So that won’t be a problem.”

“I think it’s going to be kind of fun,” Candace said. “I’d love to see a hippopotamus.”

Kevin took another gulp of wine.

“I suppose you don’t mind if we take those electronic gizmos to locate the animals,” Melanie said. “And we could use the contour map. Of course, we’ll be careful with them.”

Kevin sighed and sagged in his chair. “All right, I give up. What time is this mission scheduled?”

“Oh goody,” Candace said, clapping her hands together. “I knew you’d come.”

“The sun comes up after six,” Melanie said. “I’d like to be in the boat and on our way by then. My plan is to head west, then swing way out into the estuary before going east. That way we won’t evoke any suspicions here in town if anyone sees us getting into the boat. I’d like them to think we were going off to Acalayong.”

“What about work?” Kevin asked. “Won’t you be missed?”

“Nope,” Melanie said. “I told the people in the lab I’d be unreachable at the animal center. Whereas the people in the animal center I told…”

“I get the picture,” Kevin interjected. “What about you, Candace?”

“No problem,” Candace said. “As long as Mr. Winchester keeps doing as well as he’s doing, I’m essentially unemployed. The surgeons are golfing and playing tennis all day. I can do what I like.”

“I’ll call my head tech,” Kevin said. “I’ll tell him I’m under the weather with an acute attack of insanity.”

“Wait a second,” Candace said suddenly. “I just thought of a problem.”

Kevin sat bolt upright. “What?” he asked.

“I don’t have any sunblock,” Candace said. “I didn’t bring any because on my three previous visits I never saw the sun.”

CHAPTER 16

MARCH 6, 1997

2:30 P.M.

NEW YORK CITY

WITH all the tests on Franconi pending, Jack had forced himself to go to his office and try to concentrate on some of his other outstanding cases. To his surprise, he’d made reasonable headway until the phone rang at two-thirty.

“Is this Dr. Stapleton?” a female voice with an Italian accent asked.

“It is indeed,” Jack said. “Is this Mrs. Franconi?”

“Imogene Franconi. I got a message to call you.”

“I appreciate it, Mrs. Franconi,” Jack said. “First let me extend my sympathies to you in regards to your son.”

“Thank you,” Imogene said. “Carlo was a good boy. He didn’t do any of those things they said in the newspapers. He worked for the American Fresh Fruit Company here in Queens. I don’t know where all that talk about organized crime came from. The newspapers just make stuff up.”

“It’s terrible what they’ll do to sell papers,” Jack said.

“The man that came this morning said that you got his body back,” Imogene said.

“We believe so,” Jack said. “That’s why we needed some blood from you to confirm it. Thank you for being cooperative.”

“I asked him why he didn’t want me to come down there and identify it like I did last time,” Imogene said. “But he told me he didn’t know.”

Jack tried to think of a graceful way of explaining the identity problem, but he couldn’t think of any. “Some parts of the body are still missing,” he said vaguely, hoping that Mrs. Franconi would be satisfied.

“Oh?” Imogene commented.

“Let me tell you why I called,” Jack said quickly. He was afraid that if Mrs. Franconi became offended, she might not be receptive to his question. “You told the investigator that your son’s health had improved after a trip. Do you remember saying that?”

“Of course,” Imogene said.

“I was told you don’t know where he went,” Jack said. “Is there any way you could find out?”

“I don’t think so,” Imogene said. “He told me it had nothing to do with his work and that it was very private.”

“Do you remember when it was?” Jack asked.

“Not exactly,” Imogene said. “Maybe five or six weeks ago.”

“Was it in this country?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know,” Imogene said. “All he said was that it was very private.”

“If you find out where it was, would you give me a call back?” Jack asked.

“I suppose,” Imogene said.

“Thank you,” Jack said.

“Wait,” Imogene said. “I just remembered he did say something strange just before he left. He said that if he didn’t come back that he loved me very much.”

“Did that surprise you?” Jack asked.

“Well, yes,” Imogene said. “I thought that was a fine thing to say to your mother.”

Jack thanked Mrs. Franconi again and hung up the phone. Hardly had he had his hand off the receiver when it rang again. It was Ted Lynch.

“I think you’d better come up here,” Ted said.

“I’m on my way,” Jack said.

Jack found Ted sitting at his desk, literally scratching his head.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to put one over on me,” Ted spat. “Sit down!”

Jack sat. Ted was holding a ream of computer-generated paper plus a number of sheets of developed film with hundreds of small dark bands. Ted reached over and dropped the mass into Jack’s lap.

“What the hell’s this?” Jack questioned. He picked up several of the celluloid sheets and held them up to the light.

Ted leaned over and with the eraser end of an old-fashioned wooden pencil pointed to the films. “These are the results of the DNA polymarker test.” He fingered the computer printout. “And this mass of data compares the nucleotide sequences of the DQ alpha regions of the MHC.”

“Come on, Ted!” Jack urged. “Talk English to me, would you please? You know I’m a babe in the woods when it comes to this stuff.”