Fever Dream by Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child Read Free Book Online Page B

carriage entrance, ignoring the fat drops
     of rain that were now splattering the sidewalk. D’Agosta followed at a jog as the agent strode across a wide interior courtyard,
     past manicured plants and muttering bronze fountains, to a narrow lobby in the southwest corner of the apartment building.
     He pressed the elevator button, the doors whispered open, and they ascended in silence. A minute later the doors opened again
     on a small space, a single door set into the far wall. It had no obvious locking mechanism, but when Pendergast moved his
     fingertips across the surface in an odd gestureD’Agosta heard the unmistakable click of a deadlock springing free. Pendergast
     pushed the door open, and the reception room came into view: dimly lit, with three rose-painted walls and a fourth wall of
     black marble, covered by a thin sheet of falling water.
    Pendergast gestured at the black leather sofas arrayed around the room. “Take a seat. I’ll be back shortly.”
    D’Agosta sat down as the FBI agent slipped through a door in one of the walls. He sat back, taking in the soft gurgle of water,
     the bonsai plants, the smell of lotus blossoms. The walls of the building were so thick, he could barely hear the opening
     peals of thunder outside. Everything about the room seemed designed to induce tranquility. Yet tranquil was the last thing
     he felt. He wondered again just how he’d swing a sudden leave of absence—with his boss, and especially with Laura Hayward.
    It was ten minutes before Pendergast reappeared. He had shaved and changed into a fresh black suit. He also seemed more composed,
     more like the old Pendergast—although D’Agosta could still sense a great tension under the surface.
    “Thank you for waiting, Vincent,” he said, beckoning. “Let us proceed.”
    D’Agosta followed the agent down a long hallway, as dimly lit as the reception room. He glanced curiously left and right:
     at a library; a room hung with oil paintings floor-to-ceiling; a wine cellar. Pendergast stopped at the only closed door in
     the hallway, opening it with the same strange movement of his fingers against the wood. The room beyond was barely large enough
     for the table and two chairs that it contained. A large steel bank-style vault, at least four feet in width, dominated one
     of the side walls.
    Again Pendergast motioned D’Agosta to take a seat, then vanished into the hall. Within moments he returned, a leather Gladstone
     bag in one hand. He set this on the table, opened it, and drew out a rack of test tubes and several glass-stoppered bottles,
     which he arrayed carefully on the polished wood. His hand trembled once—only once—and the test tubes clinked quietly in response.
     After the apparatus was unpacked, Pendergast turned to the vault and with five or six turns of the dial unlocked it. As he
     swung the heavy door open, D’Agosta could see a grid of metal-fronted containers within, not unlike safe-deposit boxes. Pendergast
     selected one, withdrew it,and placed it on the table. Then, closing the vault, he took the seat opposite D’Agosta.
    For a long moment, he remained motionless. Then came another rumble of thunder, muffled and distant, and it seemed to rouse
     him. He removed a white silk handkerchief from the Gladstone bag and spread it on the table. Then he slid the steel box closer,
     lifted its lid, and took from it two items: a tuft of coarse red hair and a gold ring, set with a beautiful star sapphire.
     He took away the tuft of hair with a set of forceps; the ring he gently removed with his bare hand, in a gesture so unconsciously
     tender D’Agosta felt himself pierced to the heart.
    “These are the items I took from Helen’s corpse,” Pendergast said. The indirect lighting exaggerated the hollows of his drawn
     face. “I haven’t looked at these in almost twelve years. Her wedding ring… and the tuft of mane she tore from the lion as
     it devoured her. I found it clutched in her severed left