Part 16 (2/2)
He drew on his scotch again, then continued.
”When I came back, I started doing research on aging. That's when Karl Van de Vliet's name popped up on the Internet. Some paper he'd given in Vienna years ago. It was about the physiology of aging. But then Tanya came along and I sort of forgot about him. Then when I went to work for Winston Bartlett, there he was. The very same guy. It was weird, but it was as though G.o.d had delivered him.”
”Is this s.h.a.ggy-dog story going to end up being about why he looks so young?”
”I'm getting there.” He smiled. ”I kept wondering too, and then finally I saw an opening in his schedule and took him to dinner here in the city, down at Chanterelle. A social thing. Eventually, after a couple of bottles of serious wine, it came out that once upon a time he had done an unconventional experiment. On himself. It was sort of an accident, something about melanoma research.”
”So he--”
”You asked me why he looks so young. Well, some procedure he did apparently stopped his skin from aging. But then he changed the subject and wouldn't talk about it anymore. So do I think he's a miracle worker? I'd say he's walking proof of something. That you can cheat nature.”
”And?”
”There is no 'and.' That's all I know.” He came back and settled onto the couch. His scotch gla.s.s was empty and he yearned for another, but that small voice inside was urging discretion. This was the moment that could be make or break.
”But to get back to you, Ally, you really should meet him. I can't talk specifics about the actual clinical trials, but let me just say they've been very positive. There's every reason to think he can help you. And Mom too.”
He studied her, trying to read her mind. He wondered if she could detect the anxiety he felt lurking just beneath the surface. Was she seeing through him, the way Nina, for all her mental debility, had seemed to?
”Grant, has this doctor Van de Vliet gotten into some kind of medical experiment that's turned into a Faustian bargain? Is his skin rejuvenation a signal that this research has gone over into The Twilight Zone'! When a sixty-something man looks forty-something, there's got to be an unnatural act going on. What does it mean?”
”Maybe it means he's found the thing Ponce de Leon was looking for. The Fountain of Youth or whatever.”
”Then he'll probably have to pay for it some other way,” she said getting up. ”Mother Nature doesn't give out freebies. Look, I've got to give Knickers her midnight walk. That's your exit cue. I'll call him tomorrow. I'll go that far.”
”Don't blow this chance, Ally,” he said setting down his empty scotch gla.s.s and getting up. He felt hope and it bucked him up. ”It could be the biggest mistake of your life. And Mom's.”
He was at the door before he turned back. It was time for the insurance. The hedging of bets. Bartlett had authorized it.
”By the way, I almost forgot. Jesus, I'm going senile myself. W.B. told me to tell you he'd like you to come over to his place on Gramercy Park tomorrow morning around ten, if you can work it into your schedule.”
”What for?”
”That job on his place that I told you about this morning, I guess. I do know he's planning to renovate the ground floor. But just between us, he's also got a ma.s.sive renovation job in the wings, so maybe that's what's really on and this is like an audition. Who knows? He bought an old mansion on upper Park and he's planning to heavily redo it and turn it into a museum for his incredible collection of j.a.panese military stuff, swords and armor and s.h.i.+t. He's going to do over the entire interior. It's part architecture and part design, so I gave him your name. Who knows? But I was over at his place this afternoon and he asked about you. He said he wanted to see you as soon as possible. He even gave me one of his personal cards to give to you. Here. It has the Gramercy Park address and his private cell phone.”
”Just like that?” She looked skeptical but took the card.
”Winston Bartlett is not a man who dawdles. If he decides he wants to do something, he just moves on it. All he asked was that you bring a portfolio, to show him some of your work.”
_Come on and do it,_ he thought as he headed out the door. _Go and see the Man. Just f.u.c.king do it. If he can't close this frigging deal, n.o.body can.
_
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