Terminal

“That was the end of the meal,” Sean reminded her. “Harriet was talking about dessert. Besides, I couldn’t sit there another minute. Malcolm made me realize several extraordinary things. I don’t know if you were listening when he described his illnesses.”

“I was talking with Harriet,” Janet said irritably.

“He told me he had an operation, encephalitis, and then his brain tumor all within a period of a few months.”

“What did that tell you?” Janet asked.

“It made me realize that both Helen Cabot and Louis Martin had the same history,” Sean said. “I know because I did their history and physicals.”

“You think these illnesses are related somehow?” she asked. Some of the anger was gone from her voice.

“It seems to me I saw a similar sequence and timing in a number of the charts we copied,” Sean said. “I’m not positive because I wasn’t looking for it, but even with three, the possibility of it happening by chance is pretty small.”

“What are you saying?” Janet asked.

“I don’t know for sure,” Sean said. “But it convinced me I want to go to Key West. Forbes has a spin-off diagnostic lab down there where they sent the biopsies. It’s a favorite trick of hospitals to have quasi-independent labs to maximize the profits they can make out of diagnostic lab work, self-referral limitations be damned.”

“I have next weekend off,” Janet said. “Both Saturday and Sunday. I wouldn’t mind visiting Key West.”

“I don’t want to wait,” Sean said. “I want to go right away. I think we’re on to something here.” He was also thinking that between the police looking for him and not being able to reach Brian, he might not have the luxury of waiting a week.

Janet stopped dead in her tracks and glanced at her watch. It was after ten. “Are you talking about going there tonight?” she asked with disbelief.

“Let’s find out how far it is,” Sean said. “Then we can decide.”

Janet started walking again, passing Sean who’d paused when she had. “Sean, you are getting more incomprehensible and crazier all the time,” she said. “You call people up at the last minute, get them to graciously invite you to dinner, then you walk out in the middle because you suddenly have the idea of going to Key West. I give up. But I’ll tell you something: this lady is not going to Key West tonight. This lady is . . .”

Janet didn’t finish her angry monologue. Rounding the Pontiac, which was partially hidden by a large banyan tree, she’d practically collided with a figure in a dark suit, white shirt, and dark tie. His face and hair were obscured by shadows.

Janet gasped. She was still on edge from the episode on the beach, and confronting yet another man coming out of the dark frightened her terribly. Sean started toward her but was stopped by a similarly shadowy figure on his side of the car.

Despite the darkness, Sean could tell the man before him was Asian. Before Sean knew it, a third man had stepped behind him. For a moment no one spoke. Sean glanced back at the house and estimated how long it would take him to cover the distance to the front door. He also thought about what he’d do once he got there. Unfortunately, a lot depended on how quickly Malcolm Betencourt responded.

“If you please,” the man in front of Sean said in flawless English. “Mr. Yamaguchi would be most grateful if you and your companion would come and have a word with him.”

Sean looked at each man in turn. All of them exuded an aura of total confidence and tranquility that Sean found unnerving. Sean could feel the weight of Tom’s pistol in his jacket pocket, but he dared not pull it out. He had no experience with guns, and there was no way he could shoot these people. And he hesitated to think how these men might retaliate.

“It would be regretful if there was trouble,” the same man said. “Please, Mr. Yamaguchi is waiting in a car parked on the street.”

“Sean,” Janet called over the top of the car in a wavering voice, “who are these people?”

“I don’t know,” Sean answered her. Then, to the man in front of him, he said: “Can you give me an idea who Mr. Yamaguchi is, and why he particularly wants to talk with us?”

“Please,” the man repeated. “Mr. Yamaguchi will tell you himself. Please, the car is just a few steps away.”

“Well, since you are being so nice about it,” Sean said. “Sure, let’s say hello to Mr. Yamaguchi.”

Sean turned and started around the car. The man who was standing behind him stepped aside. Sean put an arm around Janet’s shoulder and together they started toward the street. The taller Japanese man, the one who had been in front of Sean, led the way. The other two silently followed.

The limousine was parked beneath a line of trees and was so dark it was difficult to see it until they were only a few feet away. The taller man opened the rear door and motioned for Sean and Janet to climb inside.

“Can’t Mr. Yamaguchi come out?” Sean asked. He wondered if this was the same limo that he thought had been following them on their way to the Betencourts’. He guessed it was.