relief drifted through him, a chance to speak with her alone. For the past fifteen minutes Harvey had watched Sara and Bradley Jenkins engage in what appeared to be a serious conversation.
They were interrupted by Bradley's father, who moved between them and pulled Bradley away. No surprise there. Harvey knew that Bradley confided in Sara. Senator Jenkins probably did too.
Sara was leaning against her cane, sipping lightly at her drink.
Harvey approached her.
"There you are," he began. " I've been looking for you all night.
Congratulations on the show."
She kissed his cheek.
"Thank you, Harvey. How are you doing?"
"Fine."
"And the clinic?"
Harvey shrugged.
"Okay."
"Did Michael speak with you yet?"
"About what?"
"About his stomach."
"No," he replied.
"What about it?"
Sara frowned.
"I'm going to kill him."
"What's wrong with his stomach?"
"He's been having terrible stomach pain for over a week now."
Harvey nodded, finally understanding.
"That explains his grimacing all night." "I can't believe him," Sara continued.
"He1 promised me he would speak to you."
"Don't blame him, Sara. I haven't been the most approachable company this evening. He probably thought it was a bad time."
"So what's wrong?"
"I need to talk to you about something important." Despite Harvey's earlier vow, he had gone well beyond that fourth martini.
He took yet another swish, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid circling in his mouth before he swallowed. He might have been a little tipsy earlier, but his mind became sober and alert now.
"It involves the clinic," he began slowly, weighing each word in his head before it passed his lips, "and I think it involves Bruce's death." He stopped.
He motioned with his hand.
"Let's take a walk." They moved through the French doors and out onto the broad expanse of landscaped grounds. Many guests were outside now, the party spilling from the crowded ballroom onto the lawn and formal gardens beyond. The two strolled in silence past the pool, the cabana, the tennis courts. Sara led Harvey down toward the barn where her father kept the horses. She opened the barn door, releasing the smell of hay and animals. They entered. A horse neighed.
"This is a beautiful estate," Harvey said.
"Yes, it is."
He stroked the broad forehead of a large grey horse.
"Do you do much riding?" he asked.
Sara shook her head.
"Cassandra's the rider in the family.
The doctors did not like the idea of me on a horse as a child so I never got into it."
"Oh."
"So why don't you tell me what's up?"
"You're going to think I'm crazy."
"Nothing new there."
Harvey chuckled and then scanned the area to make sure that no one was around.
"All right," he said slowly, "here goes. As you know, Bruce and I have been running the clinic for almost three years now, trying our best to keep all results secret and avoiding the press at all costs."
"I know," Sara replied," but I never understood why. Clinics and doctors usually crave media attention."
"Usually, yes. And I, for one, am never against seeing my smiling face on TV. But this is something different, Sara, something big. First, our treatment is experimental. In such cases even a rumor of success brings on expectations which probably cannot be met. Second, we are working with only forty patients, many of whom do not want their cases made public for obvious reasons. AIDS is still the evil plague in our society, one that inspires prejudice and discrimination of the highest order."
"I see."
"But a few new factors have entered the game."
"Such as?"
"Money," he stated flatly.
"We're running out of it and we need more badly. Without some public pressure on the federal government to extend our grant and without some outside donations, the clinic won't survive much longer, and..." He stopped.
"And there's something else," he said.
"Something you have to swear to keep to yourself."
"Go ahead."
"Swear."
She looked at him, puzzled.
"I swear." He sighed deeply.
"You've probably heard some of the rumors, Sara. No matter how hard we tried to keep things quiet, the word began to leak out. It started with the success of the drug on the isolated virus in the lab. Then we injected it in mice. Over time, the HIV was destroyed in virtually every instance. The same thing happened when we moved up to monkeys."
Sara swallowed.
"What are you trying to say?"
"You can't keep something like this a secret for very long," he continued, "and frankly speaking, we felt it was time to let the facts be known a little bit at a time, of course."
Her mouth dropped open. She had heard a vague rumor or two and dismissed them as wishful thinking.