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"And this you know from the material she sent this Dr. Larkin?"
"Yes."
"Amazing, but a doctor could do that, couldn't she?" Michael said. He tried to keep his voice steady. He didn't want anyone taking his pulse. "Last proof that she was alive was February twelfth," he said again. He was trying to calculate the date, the number of days. His mind went blank.
"There has been one other small bit of intelligence," said Ryan. "And one which we do not like."
"So tell me."
"Rowan made huge bank transfers while she was in Europe. Huge transfers through banks in France and in Switzerland. But the transfers stopped at the end of January, and thereafter, only two simple checks were cashed in New York, on February fourteenth. We know now the signatures on these checks were forgeries."
"Ah." Michael sat back. "He's keeping her prisoner. He forged the checks."
Aaron sighed. "We don't know...for certain. She was described by those in Donnelaith--and those in Geneva--as being pale, sickly. Her companion was said to have been very attentive; indeed, she was never seen when not in his company."
"I see," Michael whispered. "What else did they say? Tell me everything."
"Donnelaith is an archaeological site now," said Aaron.
"Yes, I knew that, I believe," said Michael. He looked at Ryan. "You've read the Mayfair History?"
"If you mean the file from the Talamasca, yes, I did examine it but I think our concern here is simply this: where is Rowan and how can we reach her?"
"Go on about Donnelaith," said Michael to Aaron.
"Apparently Rowan and Lasher had a suite in the inn there for four days. They spent considerable time exploring the ruins of the castle, the Cathedral and the village. Lasher talked to many, many people."
"Must you call him by that name?" asked Ryan. "The legal name he used was different."
"The legal name has nothing to do with it," said Pierce. "Dad, please, let's just get this information out. This Donnelaith, it's an archaeological project apparently funded entirely by our family. I'd never heard of it till I read the Talamasca file. Neither had Dad. It was all administered by..."
"Lauren," said Ryan, with a faint tone of distaste. "But that's all beside the point. They haven't been seen there since January."
"Get on with it," said Michael as gently as he could. "What did people see when they looked at them?"
"They are described as a woman five foot seven in height, very pale and in ill health, and an extremely tall man, possibly six and a half feet in height with luxuriant long black hair--both American."
Michael wanted to say something, but his heart was rushing on him, no doubt of it. He felt the increased rate, and a little pain in his chest. He didn't want anyone to know this. He took out his handkerchief, folded it and patted his upper lip. "She's alive, she's in danger, the thing is holding her prisoner," he whispered.
"This is anecdotal material," said Ryan. "It would not stand up in a court of law. We are conjecturing. The forged checks are another matter altogether. They make it incumbent upon the legacy to do something immediately."
"The forensic statements are quite a puzzle," Aaron said.
"Yes, that is a maddening kettle of soup," said Pierce. "We sent forensic samples of the blood we found here to two different genetic institutes and neither will give us a straight answer."
"They are giving us an answer," said Aaron. "They are saying that the specimens must have been contaminated or tampered with because they pertain to a nonhuman species of primate which they cannot identify."
Michael smiled bitterly.
"But what does this Dr. Larkin say? Rowan sent him the stuff direct. What does he know? What did she say to him on the phone? I have to know everything."
"Rowan was agitated," said Pierce. "She was afraid she might be cut off. She was desperate that Larkin receive the medical material and take it to Keplinger. The whole thing alarmed Larkin. That's why he is cooperating with us. He is devoted to Rowan, doesn't want to break her confidence, but he shares our concern for her."
"This Dr. Larkin is here," said Michael. "I saw him at the wake."
"Yes, he's here," said Ryan. "But he's reluctant to discuss the medical materials taken to the Keplinger Institute."
"One can infer," said Aaron quietly, "from what the doctor is willing to say that he has extensive test material on this creature."
"Creature," said Ryan. "And there we go off into fantasy land again." He was angry. "We don't know that this man is a
creature or a...subhuman type, or anything else. And we don't know what the man's name is. We do know he is genial, educated, intelligent, and speaks rapidly with an American voice, and that the people who spoke to him at Donnelaith found him interesting."
"What in the world has that got to do with it all?" demanded Pierce. "Dad, for the love of..."
Michael interrupted. "What did Rowan send to Dr. Larkin? What has the Keplinger Institute found out?"
"Well, that's it," said Aaron. "He won't give us a complete report. But he might give it to you. He wants to talk to you. He wants to do genetic testing on you."
Michael smiled. "Does he, now?"
"You're right to be very suspicious of this," said Ryan. He seemed to be vacillating between angry impatience and exhaustion. "People have approached us with genetic proposals in the past. We are perceived as a closed group. Consent to nothing."
"Like the Mormons, or the Amish," said Michael.
"Exactly," said Ryan, "and there are many excellent legal reasons not to allow this sort of testing. And what does it have to do with the Curry family anyway?"
"I think we are straying from the point," said Aaron. He looked meaningfully at Michael. "Whatever we call this companion of Rowan's, he's flesh and blood, and obviously passes for human."
"Are you listening to your own words!" Ryan demanded, plainly furious.
"Of course I am," said Aaron.
"I want to see the medical evidence myself," said Ryan.
"How will you know how to interpret it?" Pierce asked.
"Just hold on," said Ryan.
"Dad, we have to talk this out."
Michael raised his hand for calm. "Listen, the medical tests aren't going to determine anything. I saw him. I spoke to him."
The room was silent.
He realized this was the first time he had uttered such a thing to the family since the entire incident had happened. He had never, never admitted to Ryan or to Pierce, and certainly never to any other Mayfair, what had happened on Christmas Day. He found himself glancing now at Mona. And then his eyes fixed on the man to whom he had told the whole tale--Aaron.
