Death Match by Lincoln Child Read Free Book Online Page A

ideation?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHistory of prior attempts?”
    â€œNone.”
    â€œSubstance abuse?”
    â€œThe autopsy bloods were clean.”
    Another pause. “Is this a joke?”
    â€œNo. Go on, please.”
    â€œThe couple’s relationship?”
    â€œWarm and loving, by all accounts.”
    â€œMajor losses of any kind?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œFamily history?”
    â€œNegative for depression, schizophrenia, any mental illness, in fact.”
    â€œAny other life stressors? Significant changes?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAny health issues?”
    â€œBoth received glowing physicals within the last six months.”
    â€œAnything I should know? Anything at all?”
    Lash paused. “They’d recently had a child.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œNormal and healthy in every way.”
    There was a long silence. Then, Lash heard laughter over the line. “This is a joke, right? Because these aren’t double suicides you’re describing. This is Captain America and Wonder Woman.”
    â€œIs that your considered opinion?”
    Goodkind’s laugh slowly died. “Yes.”
    â€œRoger, you’ve got a unique perspective on suicide. You’re a biochemist. You not only talk to suicide attempters, you study their motivation on a molecular level.” Lash shifted in his seat. “Is there any commonality among people that might predispose them—no matter how happy they appear—to suicide?”
    â€œYou mean, like a suicide gene? I wish it were that easy. There’s research that’s shown some genes may—
may
—code for depressive tendencies. Just as there are genes that code for heavy eating, sexual preferences, eye or hair color. But predicting suicide? If you’re a betting man, stay away from that one. You’ve got two deeply depressed people. Why does one commit suicide and another doesn’t? In the end there’s no way to predict. Why did Miami Beach police report a rash of suicides last month, while Minneapolis had a historic dip? Why did Poland have a dramatically high rate of suicide in the year 2000? Sorry, pal. When you get right down to it, it’s just a roll of the dice.”
    Lash ingested this. “A roll of the dice.”
    â€œTake it from an expert, Chris. And you can quote me on that.”

SEVEN
    A fter the dry high-altitude air of Flagstaff, New York City felt damp and miserable. Lash wore a heavy raincoat as he approached the reception desk in Eden’s lobby for the second time in five days.
    â€œChristopher Lash to see Edwin Mauchly,” he told a tall, thin man behind the counter.
    The man tapped a few keys. “Do you have an appointment, sir?” he asked with a smile.
    â€œI left him a message. He’ll be expecting me.”
    â€œOne moment, please.”
    As he waited, Lash turned to gaze around him. There was something different about the lobby today, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Then he realized there was no line of prospective applicants this morning. The twin escalators leading to Application Processing were empty. Instead, a smaller flow of traffic was headed for the security checkpoint. They were all couples, many hand in hand. Unlike the anxious, hopeful faces he’d seen his last visit, these people were smiling, laughing, chattering loudly. After showing laminated cards at the checkpoint, the couples moved on to a large set of doors and vanished out of sight.
    â€œDr. Lash?” the man at the desk said.
    Lash turned back. “Yes?”
    â€œMr. Mauchly is waiting for you.” The man slid a small ivory passcard emblazoned with Eden’s infinity logo across the desk. “Please show this at the elevator station. Have a pleasant day.”
    When the elevator doors opened onto the thirty-second floor, Mauchly was waiting. He nodded to Lash, then led the way down the corridor to his office.
    Director of