The Brahms Deception Read Online Free PDF

too tired always made her worse.
    â€œMr. North, I hope you remember me. Robert Gregson, of the—”
    â€œDr. Gregson,” Kris said, surprised. “Of course I remember you.” The ding of the microwave bell made him jump. He looked up from the phone, and saw that Erika had found her way to her wheelchair and was now sitting in the doorway to the kitchen, a worried frown creasing her forehead.
    â€œI apologize for the lateness of the hour.”
    â€œYes,” Kris answered. The sensation in his belly could not be denied now, and food was not going to assuage it. “What can I do for you, Dr. Gregson—at two in the morning? One there in Chicago.”
    â€œYes. I’m sorry. It’s an emergency.”
    Erika whispered, “What is it, Kris? Who’s calling?”
    He held up a hand to ask her to wait. Still frowning, she wheeled herself to the microwave to take out his meat loaf. “What’s the emergency?” Kris said into the phone.
    â€œIt’s Miss Bannister. Frederica Bannister.”
    Kristian’s throat suddenly dried. He reached for his beer. “What about her?” He knew he sounded rude, but he hardly cared. It was two in the morning, and Gregson had gotten Erika out of bed. Erika needed her rest. And he didn’t owe Gregson a thing.
    â€œShe—she didn’t wake up.”
    Kristian nearly dropped the beer bottle. “ What? Jesus Christ! Are you telling me she’s dead? ”
    â€œNo! Oh, no, no, thank God.” Gregson spoke louder, and now Kristian recognized his voice, the slight buzz as if he was hoarse, the nasal timbre. “No, she’s alive. She’s breathing; her vitals are good: heartbeat a little elevated sometimes, but—”
    â€œThen what’s the trouble?”
    There was a moment of heavy silence on the phone. Erika was setting two slices of bread on the plate with the meat loaf, forking two pickles out of a jar. She moved efficiently and silently in her wheelchair between the table and the kitchen counter.
    â€œMr. North,” Gregson began, then cleared his throat. Kris stared blindly at the rain-streaked window. City lights glimmered through the haze, blurring into smudges of white and amber. “Miss Bannister seems well, but she . . . she just hasn’t . . . come back.”
    â€œThat makes no sense. I don’t need to tell you that! She didn’t go anywhere.”
    â€œShe was due to wake up—return to consciousness in this time period, as we say—yesterday. She just . . . won’t.”
    â€œWon’t.” Kristian took a deep drag on his beer, and listened to Gregson fumbling for words.
    â€œWon’t. Of course we tried to break the pattern from our end. We—”
    â€œYou lost her.”
    There was a pause, and Kristian could feel Gregson weighing what was safe to say. “We don’t know if that’s true or not,” he finally said.
    â€œIt must be. There’s something wrong with the coordinates.”
    â€œWe’ve been over them a hundred times,” Gregson said. “Our team there in Italy, and Dr. Braunstein here. Everything looks perfect.”
    â€œExcept that she won’t wake up.”
    â€œThat’s it. She just—” He sighed, and his voice grew even hoarser. “She just lies there.” Kristian heard the click of Gregson’s throat as he swallowed. Sounded like the doctor needed a beer, too. Gregson finished, “Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
    Kristian rubbed his face with his free hand. “Look, Dr. Gregson. It’s late. I worked all evening, and I’m tired. I understand you’re tired, too, and you’re worried. But this has nothing to do with me, does it? I’m the loser here. She was the winner. Sorry to be blunt, but this isn’t my problem.”
    â€œYou weren’t the loser, Mr. North. You were the runner-up.”
    Whatever. Kristian bit