Rabbit in the Moon Read online

  “I never realized how much research in this country is privately funded,” Lili replied, thinking of her earlier conversation with Dylan.

  “It’s the American way,” he said, observing Seng’s implacable expression. “If a major new product is developed at just one site, we’ve more than justified our investment.”

  “From what Dr. O’Hara tells me, his work on aging seems very promising,” Lili said, putting in a good word for Dylan who had just returned to the table with Trenton.

  “Well, I haven’t found the fountain of youth yet.” Dylan moved to her side.

  “I guess you haven’t either, Dr. Seng, or we’d have heard about it.” Carpenter addressed the visiting professssor.

  “Pardon me?” The strange expression that flashed across Seng’s face was fleeting.

  “The Xi’an Institute. I assumed it was a research facility.”

  “We do some research, but not in areas requiring sophisticated technology. In that sense we are still far behind your country.” He turned to Lili. “I suppose in your terminology, you’d call our approach more holistic.”

  “That sounds very modern,” Lili remarked.

  “Holistic medicine is not a Western creation. Plato’s original notion of holistic treatment was much like the Chinese concept of medical treatment.”

  “How so?” Carpenter asked.

  “Chinese medicine seeks the harmony of yin and yang — the union of body and mind. Historical documents prove that ancient Chinese physicians took sociocultural causes of disease seriously. Early on, they noticed the effect of emotions on the body.”

  “Very enlightened,” Lili said.

  Seng smiled at her. “I understand you’re interested in geriatrics.”

  “I plan to specialize in diseases of aging.”

  “In China we do not view aging as a disease,” Seng responded.

  “But what happens when people can no longer care for themselves?”

  An enigmatic smile emerged from Seng. “I suppose we Chinese are an odd lot. We believe when our children grow up, they not only must respect their elders, but care for them.”

  Lili experienced the discomfort she felt earlier as Seng watched her.

  “Have you ever been to China?” he asked.

  “No.” And she didn’t plan to go.

  “Perhaps you might like to spend a few months at the Xi’an Institute as a visiting fellow. You could learn much from our approach to aging.”

  “I’m sure I could,” she replied, trying to be polite.

  “A thought occurs to me,” he said. “A young resident from Harvard was scheduled to come in April and canceled at the last minute. You could take his place.”

  It was preposterous. “I couldn’t leave L.A. Medical now.”

  “I’d grab an opportunity like that,” Carpenter interjected. “Wouldn’t you, Dr. Trenton?”

  “Dr. Quan’s still a resident. It would be more appropriate when she’s further along in her training,” the chief replied, speaking as though Lili was not there.

  Trenton’s supercilious air infuriated her. But for the fact that she had no interest whatsoever in seeing China, she had half a mind to accept Seng’s offer. If only to spite Trenton.

  Seng was saying something.

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “I said I’ll be in Los Angeles for the next week.” He handed her a card. “Here’s my number. If you change your mind, call me. Any time.”

  “Thank you.”

  Someone tapped her on the shoulder.

  Lili turned to Ed Baxter. “What?”

  “I just got beeped for your patient.”

  “Who?”

  In a voice loud enough for everyone to hear: “Margaret Manley.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “You didn’t order restraints. Apparently she got confused and fell out of bed. Nursing is fit to be tied.”

  Although Trenton said nothing, his expression reflected disapproval.

  Lili jumped up, eager to avoid further damage to her career. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Let me give you a lift to the hospital,” Dylan offered.

  “No, please. Stay. It’s just a few blocks. I’ll take the campus shuttle.” She made her excuses to the guests at the table and hurried out.

  Jesus, Lili thought, as she waited for her ride. What else could go wrong today?

  The answer came an hour later after she’d finished examining Mrs. Manley. No fractures, but the patient had hit her head. Standard procedure required a neurology consult and skull X-rays. This meant Mrs. Manley wouldn’t be leaving L.A. Medical for a few days. It also meant Trenton would not be pleased.

  Even Dylan’s message on her answer machine wishing her a good night’s sleep and suggesting dinner “just the two of us” the following evening failed to overcome her sense of impending doom.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  March 1989

  Beijing, China

  Breathless, Peng Han burst into the Foreign Ministry office. “I have news.”

  Foreign Minister Lin nodded toward the chair in front of his desk. General Tong was already seated. “Sit down, old friend.” He offered Han a cup of tea.

  “Fortunately, reports in my section of the intelligence branch still go through me.” Han smiled as he offered Lin a handwritten memo.

  “So, Dr. Seng met the granddaughter.”

  “Yes, but how can you be sure he’ll convince her to come to China?” the general asked.

  “Comrade General, I know you would prefer we kidnap her and be done with it.” Han savored a sip of the steaming tea in his cup before speaking again. “Just trust me. Our plan will take time. The granddaughter must be skillfully recruited and managed. If she comes on her own, we’ll accomplish our mission more easily and,” he added pointedly, “without alerting others outside our group.”

  “But once she’s here —”

  “Once she’s here,” Han completed Lin’s thought, “her life will be of little consequence.”

  “Yes, I suppose your approach is correct,” the general acknowledged.

  Even Lin nodded in agreement.

  Han took another sip. “I know it is.”

  Beijing, China

  This time it was Lee Tong who waited impatiently when David Kim arrived at Beihai Park.

  “Sorry. Didn’t want to be followed.”

  Tong surveyed the park. “It’s safe.”

  Despite assurances, David lowered his voice. “You’re sure?”

  “Just a bunch of intellectuals,” Tong sneered. “They go to college so they think they know what China needs.”

  “And what do they think it needs?”

  “Right now, they’re just meeting and talking. But who knows what trouble these hooligans might stir up.”

  Like demanding that guan dao be banned, David mused. Well, this so-called official racketeering engaged in by the sons and daughters of Chinese Communist Party members was none of his business. “I’ve thought about your offer and I’m prepared to make a deal.”

  Tong looked around before responding. “Equal partners.”

  “Once you get me the elixir.”

  “I need something in writing.”

  David shook his head. “Didn’t you just say the students are getting roused up? Suppose one of them learned of a written agreement between a Korean company and the son of a well-known Party member? Or worse, suppose that contract was to steal a drug that could prolong the lives of the common people, but the parties planned to exploit the drug for their own gain?”

  “When you put it like that —”

  “There can never be written documentation of this transaction. Not until the drug is safely out of the country.”

  Tong appeared satisfied. “Very well.”

  “When do you think you’ll have the formula?”

  “Within the next three months,” Tong whispered.

  Three months! Exactly his own deadline. “Your sources are reliable?”
r />   “Impeccable.”

  David nodded and the two men shook hands to seal their bargain.

  “Zhu ni yun,” Tong said, wishing them both good luck.

  “Zhai jian.”

  As he left the park, David couldn’t help but smile. His luck was indeed good. If all went as planned, before his father’s sixtieth birthday, he would claim his rightful place as head of Kim Company. And that, he thought, as he headed for the airport, was certainly something to celebrate.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Los Angeles, California

  8:00 a.m.

  Lili’s prediction had been right. First thing the next morning she was ordered to report to Dr. Trenton’s office. Seated in his inner sanctum, her eyes scanned the spacious room. The furnishings were austere: two plain chairs facing a massive steel desk.

  Behind the desk a medium-size window framed a smog-filtered view of the campus with the Santa Monica mountains in the background. A row of Perma-Plaqued diplomas documenting Dr. Trenton’s ascent through the medical academic hierarchy hung on the far wall: Bethesda Medical School, Kimbraugh Army Hospital residency and geriatrics fellowship, then back to Bethesda as chief of service. Next to these was a simply framed Honorable Discharge from the United States Army dated 1987. The row of book shelves below held medical texts

  Lili rose to examine the titles: Harrison’s Medicine, Schwartz’s Surgery, Nelson’s Pediatrics. She removed a copy of Principles of Geriatrics Medicine and began flipping through it when she noticed a small black-and-white photo caught between the pages. Although faded, the picture was clearly Trenton as a younger man — perhaps about thirty, Lili guessed — with the same aristocratic features, but without the coldness around the eyes. He appeared happy, almost winsome. His arm encircled a beautiful woman with delicate features and a smile that even on the two-dimensional surface projected a palpable warmth. Could she be his wife, Lili pondered, reminded of her conversation with Dylan. So young to have a disease like Alzheimer’s.

  “Be sure to put that back where you found it.”

  Lili spun around to face Trenton who had entered without a sound. He removed his white coat, hung it behind the door, and sat down at his desk. Lili replaced the textbook on the shelf before returning to the uncomfortable straight-backed chair. For several minutes there was absolute silence as Trenton flipped through his desk calendar, making occasional notations. When he finished, he buzzed for his secretary. Only after she’d come and gone did he look up to acknowledge Lili’s presence.

  “Dr. Quan, I’d been told you were one of L.A. Medical’s stars, but I’ve been very disappointed in your performance these last few days.”

  The sun from the window behind his desk cast Trenton’s face in a play of light and shadow making it impossible for Lili to assess his expression. But there was no question about the coldness in his tone.

  “Look, if you’re talking about sending Mrs. Manley back to the nursing home, I tried,” Lili began. “In fact, I spent several hours yesterday making calls. Even the Cook facility was reluctant to take her.”

  “And why was that?” That supercilious tone again.

  Lili fidgeted. “She’s on welfare.”

  “Exactly! L.A. Medical has to eat the major portion of her care now — including a CAT scan and MRI.”

  “Dr. Trenton, the fact that she fell out of bed was an unfortunate accident. But I couldn’t let nursing restrain her. It’s a barbaric practice.”

  “It’s common practice in hospitals across this country,” he said evenly. “And it’s my rule in this hospital that patients with dementia are kept in restraints.”

  “That doesn’t make it right,” Lili insisted. “Mrs. Manley was terrified of being tied down.”

  “Dr. Quan, you don’t know your place here,” Trenton snapped. “You’re a resident. Your job is not to second guess me. You have a long way to go before you are in a position to make any administrative decisions.”

  Lili felt her cheeks burn. “What is it you’re really angry at me for, Dr. Trenton? For asking questions? For thinking for myself? Or for simply disagreeing with you?”

  “I have tolerated your impertinence long enough, young lady. Since I arrived, you have repeatedly questioned my rules.” Trenton pointed his finger at her. “If you continue, I promise you’ll not only lose the geriatrics fellowship next year, but you’ll be out of this hospital before July. Now get out!”

  Shocked, Lili backed away. She opened the door and hurried down the corridor propelled by a mixture of fear and rage.

  Behind her, Trenton slammed the door shut, grabbed the phone, and dialed Washington.

  Macao

  One day later

  Midnight

  David Kim exchanged almost $100,000 worth of won for pataca before taking the 11:00 p.m. jetfoil from Yaumati dock in Hong Kong. Less than forty-five minutes later the glass and aluminum beast had skimmed due west across the Pearl River estuary to Macao Wharf. Because it was a weekday, the tourist crowds were modest. He headed directly for the Macao Floating Palace, a sea-soaked dragon that was one of four no-limit casinos open around the clock for craps, roulette, baccarat, keno, chemin de fer, dai siu (big, small), the slots; anything a gambler might desire.

  Fifty percent of Macao’s government revenues accrued from taxes paid by these establishments, patronized almost exclusively by Hong Kong Chinese. To avoid the risk that customers might lose every last cent at the gambling tables, most Macao hotels demanded their bills be paid in advance. Pawnbrokers strategically lined streets surrounding these casinos so that unlucky gamblers could trade rings and watches for a one-way ticket home.

  David stepped inside where the sound was a metallic roar of one-armed bandits devouring change. Plastic dice tumbled on the green felt of crap tables as stick men changed numbers and gaming chips were stacked, shuffled, and collected. He accepted a cocktail from a narrow-eyed waitress in a tight-fitting sarong and moved toward a row of slots where a small, fragile-looking Chinese woman was feeding two “hungry tigers,” mumbling profanities with each pull as if they were incantations, but to no avail.

  “Bad joss.”

  David whirled to find an exotic looking Eurasian woman smiling at him. Her short Mary Quant haircut accentuated the elegant planes of her face. David admired her green brocade cheongsam, the diamond bracelet, and matching earrings. At the same time, she seemed to be sizing him up.

  “I haven’t seen you here before.” She looked no more than nineteen or twenty, but her low, throaty voice suggested experience beyond her years.

  “That’s because I usually frequent the Hotel Lisboa.”

  “And tonight?”

  “Tonight I plan to break the bank,” he declared, downing his first drink and accepting another from the waitress in one fluid motion. “I’m looking for a fan-tan game.”

  The beauty raised one plucked brow. “Ah, you are celebrating a big business deal.”

  “How did you know?”

  She caressed the collar of his Brioni suit. “Successful looking man like you. I merely guessed.”

  David leaned over, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m on the verge of a multimillion-dollar deal.” He waved his hand in an expansive gesture. “Maybe multibillion.”

  Her laugh resembled tinkling bells. “You are a lucky man.”

  “David Kim was born lucky.”

  “Any relation to Kim Company?”

  “My father started the firm thirty years ago. I’m his only son and heir.”

  “In that case, Mr. Kim, perhaps you’d like to join the fun over there.” She nodded toward the middle of the room.

  He followed her to the fan-tan game where a suspended sign in Chinese read: no limit. Except for the house dealer acting as banker, all four men at the table had their jackets off and their shirtsleeves rolled up. Three perspired visibly as they placed their cards around the joker, face up, in the center of the table.

  “Mind if I join?”

  A heavyset, mustachioed man
with a pale, Z-shaped scar etched into his right cheek looked up. A bottle of Dom Pérignon was buried in a bucket of ice at his side, a long cigarillo hung from his lips. “We play heavy stakes at this table, my friend.” He was a mixed-race Macanese whose English had a Portuguese accent. “Minimum ten grand a bet.”

  The Eurasian girl took a seat behind him and whispered in his ear. She opened her satin Chanel handbag and tossed ten more chips into a pool. David guessed they totaled $200,000.

  David felt his adrenaline pumping. He summoned the waitress who exchanged his pataca for $1000 chips, then removed his hand-tailored silk suit jacket, sat down, and anted up thirty chips. “Deal me in.”

  L.A. Medical

  Emerging from the chief of medicine’s office, Lili struggled to take slow, shallow breaths. Anger competed with humiliation. Calm. Calm. It wasn’t my fault. It was Trenton who lost control.

  She rounded a corner and kept walking. She needed to talk to someone. Before she realized where she was headed, she’d reached the door to the immunogenetics lab. After several knocks, she entered. The large room was filled with rows of granite countertops where two white-coated techs busily pipetted, not seeming to notice Lili.

  Off to one side several glassed-in cubicles served as offices for research staff. From where she stood she spotted Dylan seated in one, his back to her, hunched over his microscope. As she approached, she could also see someone else in the tiny room. Lili recognized Elaine Morgan, peering into a microscope on the other side of the table.

  Lili backed out of direct view. Elaine and Dylan were colleagues engaged in research together. Lili had no claim on Dylan. They’d been out just once and that hadn’t exactly been a huge success. So why did she feel a twinge of jealousy?

  In spite of herself she stood there like a voyeur watching Elaine move to Dylan’s side and lean over to look in his microscope. Something Elaine said made Dylan turn to her and smile. They were so close. Lili froze as Elaine’s lips brushed Dylan’s and they kissed. Rooted to the spot, she could only stare. How stupid she’d been thinking there might be something —