Cure by Robin Cook Read Free Book Online

sake!” Carlo murmured, and turned back around. He actually thought about getting the hell out of the car and walking, letting Brennan pick him up when he caught up to him. He again turned back to his two wards. “You bozos are going to have to make up your minds. Otherwise I’m just going to dump your asses here and let you find a taxi. I got things to do myself.”

    “Where is Fort Lee, New Jersey?” Susumu asked. He was holding a card. On his lap was Satoshi’s open wallet.

    “It’s across the river,” Carlo responded with some hesitation. With the traffic as bad as it was, one of the last places he wanted to go was Fort Lee, New Jersey, which required crossing the George Washington Bridge. At that time of day, what would normally take twenty minutes or so would probably take well over an hour, maybe as much as two, and only if they were lucky and there were no accidents.

    Susumu looked at his partner and said in Japanese, “Since we have the address, we should go and see if we can find the books. The saiko-komon said he wanted the lab books for sure. After we take the books we can take all identification. No one will know.”

    “We don’t know if the books will be there.”

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    “We don’t know if they’ll not be there.”

    For a moment Yoshiaki stared ahead, pondering the pluses and minuses. “Okay,”
    he finally said in English. “We go to Fort Lee!”

    Carlo exhaled loudly and spun back around to look out the windshield. Ahead all he could see was a sea of stationary cars in both directions, even though there was a string of green lights stretched out into the distance. “I guess we go to New Jersey,” he said in a tired voice.

    As Carlo had feared, it did take two hours to get to Fort Lee, and then another twenty minutes to find the appropriate street. It was short and alley-like, with several deserted redbrick one-story commercial buildings covered with graffiti, as well as a number of tiny run-down houses clad in old-fashioned off-white asbestos shingles. The sun had nearly set, and with the cloudy sky, Brennan had to turn on his headlights. The lights in the small house that matched the address in Satoshi’s wallet were also on, in contrast to those of the immediate neighbors’, which were dark and looked deserted.

    “Here it is,” Brennan said. “What a palace! What’s the plan?” He was looking out his window at the overgrown yard filled with all manner of rubbish, including a rusting tricycle, a broken swing set, several bald tires, and a collection of empty beer cans. “What do you want us to do?”

    Susumu opened one of the rear doors, and he and Yoshiaki slid out. Yoshiaki leaned back in. “We’ll be quick. Maybe it would be best if you turn off the headlights.”

    Brennan did as he was told. The scene retreated into a misty gloom, which at least eliminated most of the trash and junk strewn about all the yards. At the same time it emphasized the dead-looking, skeletonized trees silhouetted against the pale, turbulent sky. “This place gives me the creeps,” he said.

    “Ditto,” Carlo said.

    The two hoodlums watched as the Japanese men hastily mounted the rickety steps leading up to a small covered porch. At that point they were mere dark silhouettes against the muted incandescent light emanating through the glazed front door. Pausing, both pulled out handguns from shoulder holsters.

    “Holy shit!” Brennan voiced. “What the hell are they going to do?”

    The next instant one of the intruders used the butt of his gun to smash the glass 27

    in the front door, reached in, and then opened the door. In a blink of the eye, both disappeared inside with the door left swinging silently on its hinges.
    Brennan turned to Carlo. “I don’t like this! This is potentially turning into something that’s a lot more than I expected. Worst case, I thought these clowns were going to beat someone up.”

    “I don’t like it either,” Carlo admitted. “I don’t like