“I said I’d play.”
“Under the circumstances I don’t know if that is a wise idea,” Viktor said. Without another word to Alexei, he turned around and called out to get Nikolai’s attention. Nikolai was busy preparing the fast protein liquid chromatography equipment to purify the theta prion protein in anticipation of a successful run with the yeast in the fermenter. He looked up when he heard his name, and Viktor waved him over.
Viktor quickly explained the situation to Nikolai and then added: “What’re your thoughts on whether Alexei should play or not?”
For a few moments of concentrated thought, Nikolai stared so intently at Alexei that Alexei was forced to avert his eyes. Things were not looking good.
“I can make an argument both ways,” Nikolai said finally. “On the positive side it would be critical to know sooner rather than later if there was even the slightest rumor going around suggestive that Novichok had been involved in Ethan’s death.”
“My thoughts exactly!” Alexei said jumping into the conversation. “It’s the main reason I want to play. The players are a varied group of locals, and between them, they know everything that’s going on in this shithole town. If there is the slightest talk of Novichok being involved, at least one of them would know about it. And, even under normal circumstances, I never say much when I play. I just listen. If there is any suspicious talk, I’ll hear it.”
There was a pause as the three people alternately looked at one another.
“All right,” Viktor finally said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Play! But keep your ears open! And to be on the safe side, we’ll keep the truck with us. We’ll drop you off and then pick you up when you text you’re ready.”
“That’s fine with me,” Alexei said. Although he preferred to drive himself, he was relieved to get permission to go into town and get in the game.
“Now let’s talk about the fermenter,” Nikolai said. “This is our final run, so why don’t use up all the amino acids we have. Wouldn’t that increase both the speed of protein synthesis and ultimately the output, even if only marginally?”
“Just the opposite,” Alexei said. “Yeast function best within very specific limits. Adding nutrients beyond the recommended amounts actually depresses their reproduction and ultimately protein synthesis almost as much as not enough.”
“Really?” Nikolai questioned. “That seems contrary to common sense.”
“But he’s correct,” Viktor said.
“All right, fine by me,” Nikolai said with a shrug.
Both Viktor and Nikolai returned to their previous activities, leaving Alexei suddenly becalmed. Out of reflex he looked at the gauges on the fermenter. All was in order, and suddenly he had absolutely nothing to do. He checked the time. There were more than two and a half hours before basketball, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. The interaction with Viktor and Nikolai irritated him as he detested their condescension. It was always so obvious that they looked down upon him because they had PhDs while his education had been technical. He’d never had the option ofglorified academia, having grown up in a relatively small town called Staraya Russa. Viktor and Nikolai, on the other hand, had been raised in cosmopolitan Moscow and Saint Petersburg respectively and had attended vaunted secondary schools and the best graduate schools.
With that irritating thought reverberating in Alexei’s mind, the coincidence of Staraya Russa being about the same distance away from Moscow as Essex Falls was from New York City suddenly occurred to him. What made that idea so poignant was that in contrast to Essex Falls being a cultural desert and a backwoods wasteland, Staraya Russa had a rich, documented history of several thousand years including a deep connection to Russian Orthodoxy with its own cathedral. Although Alexei was not religious himself, in sharp contrast to his parents, he respected religion for the rich contribution it added to Russian culture, and such thoughts just added to his homesickness, which aggravated his general boredom.
Chapter 10
Wednesday, July 23, 2:20p.m.
Hiram House
Hamilton County, New York
“Whoa!” Jack exclaimed, staring through the rental car’s windshield at the house that had loomed into view after the final turn in a long, serpentine driveway. He never expected the home would be so uniquely imposing and monumental. It was all black including its multi-gabled, steep slate roof. What was most impressive was a profusion of towers capped with either crenellated parapets or sharply pointed conical roofs. Almost as dramatic was the glut of intricate gingerbread architectural details including finials, spires, and bargeboard. Taken aback, he slowed the car’s forward motion to a crawl to appreciate the scene.
After following Bob’s Toyota for about ten minutes on the road leading to the neighboring town of Indian River, they’d turned off onto an unmarked, narrow driveway that cut through tall, junglelike forest. The canopy on either side was so dense it precluded sunlight, causing the floor to be completely covered with ferns and moss.“Could this really be where we are supposed to be staying?” Jack said, finding his voice.
“It must be,” Laurie said. She was equally taken aback while eyeing the home sited in the middle of an acre-sized lawn on the shore of a pristine lake that appeared to be about a half mile in diameter. Ahead, Bob was already climbing out of his parked car. Recovering from his initial awe, Jack accelerated forward and pulled alongside. Laurie lowered her window to allow Bob to lean into the Cherokee, resting on his elbows.
“Well, what’s the initial verdict?” Bob beamed. He was obviously more than confident they would be impressed, which they were.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it,” Jack said. “It’s certainly unexpected and impressive. Staying here is going to be a unique experience. I can assure you that there’s not too many houses like this in the Midwest where I grew up.”
“There’s not too many like it left anyplace,” Bob said confidently. “You might find a few in Maine if you look hard. If you are interested in architectural details, it’s called Victorian Gothic Revival, which was quite popular in the late 1800s. And since it was just recently renovated, it’s in fantastic shape.”
“It looks like the set for a Halloween movie,” Laurie said. “Are those stained-glass windows on either side of the front door?”
“They are indeed,” Bob said. “Tiffany stained glass to be specific. And there’s more inside, as well as leaded glass panels, particularly in the formal dining room. But come on! As you can probably guess, it’s the interior that is the most impressive.” He straightened up and opened Laurie’s door.
As they walked to the front steps leading up to the elaborate covered porch which surrounded the entire house, they could appreciate more of the grounds, which included a partially concealed,hard-surfaced tennis court. As they mounted the steps, they noticed that the Gothic-arched, grand double doors were surrounded by intricate stone carvings as well as Tiffany stained-glass panels.
“My goodness,” Jack commented. “It must have taken years to build this place, especially way up here in the woods.”
