"Especially with these." Gin had to admit he had a point there.
"But why all the secrecy? " "Isn't it obvious? The president doesn't want anyone, especially the press, to find out. He's going to arrive at the crack of dawn on Friday.
As soon as he's out of recovery he'll be whisked off to Camp David for a long weekend and some extra days of vacation. He'll wear dark glasses all weekend, and by the time he returns, there'll be minimal evidence of the surgery. Any slight discoloration that persists can be covered by makeup. Foolproof, huh? " "Yeah, " Gin said slowly.
"Foolproof." But was it Duncanproof?
Stop! She shouldn't be thinking like that.
"But with all the staff off, how can Duncan operate? " "They're importing an anesthesiologist from Bethesda Naval Hospital, and Dr. VanDuyne is going to assist."
"And the Secret Service men will be guarding the hall, I suppose."
"Right. Isn't it exciting? " "Yes.
Exciting as hell." But Gin was feeling anxiety rather than excitement.
She knew what Duncan thought of the president. How many tirades about him had she endured?
Yet Duncan had agreed to do a cosmetic repair of his eyelids . . .
agreed to perform a procedure designed to give the president a little edge toward reelection.
It didn't add up. Why would Duncan do anything to help this man?
Simply because he was the president and he had asked? Maybe. The office did have a mesmerizing effect on people.
Look at Oliver, beaming like a starstruck Boy Scout. He can't tell a soul, yet he's totally gaga over the idea of his implants being used on the president of the United States.
Was she borrowing trouble? Even if Duncan wanted to try something, how could he with the Secret Service watching his every move?
But in the recovery room . . . would they be hovering over him there?
Probably not.
Why was she thinking this way? She had to stop. Yesterday she'd seen a side of Duncan she'd thought long gone. She'd promised herself to revamp her thinking. And she'd be succeeding, too, if not for that damn bottle of TPD. Was it still where she'd seen Duncan hide it?
Only one way to find out.
Now or never.
Gin wished she could call Gerry and talk to him about this, but look what happened last time she'd gone to him with a suspicion. Their relationship was stretched to the breaking point. Or maybe he'd already broken it off without her knowing it. He hadn't contacted her since Friday.
Duncan was out to lunch, Barbara was away from her desk. Gin slipped into Duncan's offLce and went directly to the bookshelves. She remembered it had been the far left section, top shelf. But the top shelf was too high to reach.
She looked around for a chair to stand on and spotted a small step stool over by the sink. How convenient. She'd never noticed one here before. Maybe because she'd never . .
L - been searching for something to stand on. She pulled it over and stepped up to where she was eye level with the top shelf.
She thought back to Sunday night, standing outside in the cold and spying on Duncan. The book had been short and fat, with a green binding.
And here it was, right in front of her. She wriggled it out and peered into the dark gap. Daylight from over her shoulder reflected off the glass of an all-too-familiar injection vial.
There it was, just inches away. But now what?
Why not just take it? a voice whispered. Take the damn bottle and rip off the stopper and pour the contents down a drain. Duncan might spend days, weeks wondering what happened to it, but so what? It'll be gone and you won't have to give it another thought.
Unless there were other vials of the stuff around.
But did that matter? This was the one she knew about. This was the one that had to go.
Gin was just reaching into the space when a voice cried out behind her.
"Jesus! " - She started and nearly lost her balance as she turned.
Barbara was standing in the center of the officer, her palm pressed between her breasts.
"You almost gave me a heart attack! " Barbara said. "Dr. Panzella, you've got to warn me when you're coming in here."
"Sorry, " Gin said. She hoped she didn't look as shaken and embarrassed as she felt.
"You weren't at your desk and I needed to look up something."
"Just make sure he knows you've been in here." '"What do you mean? " "He likes everything in its place. So if you're going to borrow anything, better check with him first, otherwise I'll hear about it."
This isn't going to work, Gin thought. She held up the green text.
"Okay, Barbara. Watch." With a small flourish, she slipped the book back into its space. "Voila. Right back where it belongs."
"Great.
He's such a stickler for detail, you know." Gin stepped down and slid the step stool back to its original position.
"That's what makes him a great surgeon. He sweats the details. " Barbara placed some papers on Duncan's desk and they left together.
Gin gave one worried backward glance at the green book on the top shelf. She'd have another chance at it tomorrow.
Unless Duncan moved it again.
Oh, no.
Duncan could feel all the warmth drain out of him as he watched the screen. He shuddered.
The videotape showed Gin entering the office at I2, 17 P. M. , dragging the step stool to the bookshelves, and pulling out the book where the TPD was hidden. There had been not the slightest hesitation.
She knew the shelf and the exact volume to remove.