The Path to Forever

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Boston, MA

Marco

I FINISHED MY Tuesday shift and hurried home in a somewhat anxious state. He didn’t call after his meeting—is that good news or bad news? I wondered.

At the apartment, Dani was in bed waiting for me.

“Well?” I said as I undressed.

“Well, what?”

“Don’t be coy. You know damn well what. How did it go with the committee? Did you successfully defend your thesis?”

“Oh, that. Yes, I believe I did. When the ordeal was over, my advisor winked at me. I interpreted that as a good sign.”

“When will you know for sure?”

“Unofficially, in a couple of days. Officially, by the end of next week.”

“Good thing you have a thousand or so DNA tests to run. You won’t have time to think about anything else.”

“Yeah, but right now, I’m thinking about this.” He grabbed a tender portion of my anatomy by way of emphasis. After that, all conversation ceased for a time.

Somewhat later, after a light supper, we carried our wineglasses into the den and watched the movie I’d picked up on the way home.

THE NEXT TWO WEEKS were hectic, to say the least, and Dani was in his lab from early in the morning until early evening. He even returned to the lab and worked until midnight a few times. The formal notification that his second doctorate had been granted was almost overlooked in his rush to finish the lab work and enter the results in his computer database. Somehow we found time to hammer out an itinerary for our summer in Italy, and I sent it to my father. A few days before the end of the term, my cell phone rang two minutes after I’d finished a shift.

“Hi, babe, what’s up?” I said, noting the name in the display.

“I’ve got something to show you.”

“Babe, I’ve seen it before, but I’ll be home for a closer inspection as fast as I can.”

“Not that, fool. As soon as you wrap things up, come down to the autopsy suite.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes to sign out and change.”

“Don’t take off your scrubs, just come on down.”

“If that’s what you want.”

I signed off my shift and headed for the elevators. When I entered the autopsy suite, I found a visibly excited Dani waiting for me.

“What’s up?” I said. “And why do you look as though you’ve been rolling in dust all day?”

“A—there’s someone I want you to meet; and B—I’ve been in several dusty storerooms trying to track down some old medical records.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Follow me.”

He led me into the back room and went to the wall that contained a bank of coolers for bodies. He selected a door at waist level, opened it, and began to pull out the tray. By the time I was standing beside him, the tray had been pulled from the vault as far as it would go. “Okay,” I said, looking down at the body of a man who appeared to be in his thirties. “What am I looking at?”

“This guy has your dick.”

“Excuse me.”

“Dr. Cauthen called me into the autopsy room the other day. When I got there, she said she had something to show me. I asked what, and she pointed to this guy, who was on the autopsy table at the time. I didn’t get it until she pointed and said: ‘This man presents an example of aposthia, also known as natural circumcision. He was born without a foreskin. It’s very rare, and most pathologists never see one’. I didn’t tell her that I’ve seen one every day of my life for the past ten years, which made me think about something else, so I asked her if he’d also been born without an appendix. She said yes and wanted to know why I asked, so I mumbled something about an article I thought I remembered reading.”

“That’s interesting,” I said. “As it happens, I asked my father about that back when I visited him, and he said it runs in the males in his family, but only the sons of sons in a direct line. Daughters don’t pass whatever gene it is to their children.”

“It gets much more interesting.”

“How so?”

“I’d run his DNA, just as I do for each body that comes through here, so I added it to my database. I already had your DNA, so I added it to the database as well. Guess what popped out?”

“I have no idea.”

“Babe, this guy is your brother.”

“Excuse me!”

“You and he have the same father. Different mothers, but the same father. DNA doesn’t lie.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s more.”

“Really?”

“Yep. His DNA results popped out of my program as a duplicate, so I did some checking. This guy was admitted to the ER back in the fifties, so I went looking to see if I could find out anything about him.”

“Looking how?”

“Each of those old vials of blood had a patient number on it, so I started digging in the storerooms looking for old patient records until I hit pay dirt. That’s how I got so dusty.”

“What did you find?”

“He was admitted to the ER with a broken arm and was presented as a thirty-five-year-old male at that time.”

“I guess I’m too stunned by all of this to get where you’re going.”

“Think about it, babe. If he was thirty-five in 1955, he’d be pushing ninety today. Does he look like a ninety-year-old to you?”

“No, he doesn’t. What the hell does this mean?”

“I don’t know. And by the way, X-rays of the body reveal that one of his arms had been broken and set sometime in the past, which is additional confirmation that it’s the same man, as if the DNA match wasn’t enough.”

“What’s his name?”

“He was brought in without any identification on him. The police report says that they think his wallet was stolen by a pickpocket in the Quincy Market area. Witnesses said that he was chasing some guy across the street, yelling, ‘Stop thief’, when he was hit by a truck.”

“Okay, so what was his name back in 1955?”

“The paperwork gives it as Tommaso Argenti.”

“Sounds Italian.”

“Yeah, doesn’t it? And Argenti is awfully close to your surname.”

“I think we need to go home and make a telephone call.”

“To?”

“My father, of course.”

“Yeah. By the way, I did something else you might want to know about.”

“What?”

“Before I called you, I slipped in here and opened the autopsy incision just enough to remove a two-inch piece of one of his ribs.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I sent it to a buddy of mine over at MIT. He’s going to radiocarbon date the rib on the side—that is, without any official record of what he did. He’s done it for me several times over the past year or two.”

“You’ve been a busy boy, haven’t you?”

“That’s me. Let’s go make that call, it’s kind of late over there.”

“By the time we get home, it’ll probably be ten in Aragoni. And I still need to go upstairs and change into my street clothes.”

WE ARRIVED AT the apartment in a state of excitement. Dani was so dusty and dirty that we took a quick shower together before making the call. For perhaps the first time ever, we were too distracted to start something in the shower. Later when we were clean, dressed, and had wineglasses in our hands, we sat down side by side at my desk. I opened my cell phone, turned on the speaker function, punched in the numbers, and placed it on the desk.

“This is supposed to be a very private number,” I said. “My father said to use it if I wanted to bypass most of his underlings.”

“Castello d’Aragoni,” a deep male voice said.

“I would like to speak to il Duca d’Aragoni,” I said in Italian.

“May I say who is calling?”

“His son.”

“Which one, Signore? He has several.”

“Marco Sartori d’Argenzio. I’m calling from the United States.”

“Un momento, per favore.”

There was a pause. Then we heard Father’s voice. “Marco, my boy, what a pleasant surprise. Are you calling about your trip to Italy?”

“Hello, Father. No, this call isn’t about our trip. Dani and I are in our study, and the speaker is on.”

“Hello, Sir,” Dani said.

“Good evening, Danilo. Now, what can I do for you boys?”

“Father, I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it.”

“You are aware of Dani’s most recent doctorate?”

“Of course. I read all of your e-mails very carefully. It’s something very technical involving DNA, is it not?”

“Yes, Sir. As part of his research, he has compiled a large database of DNA from all patients that have been in our hospital in recent years.”

“And?”

“There’s a body in the morgue of a man who appears to be in his late thirties. According to his DNA, he and I have the same father.”

“What is his name?”

“I don’t know. He was brought in by ambulance with no identification. The police report indicates that his wallet had been stolen. Witnesses say that he ran across a busy street chasing a man, hollering ‘Stop, thief’. He was hit by a truck and killed instantly.”

There was a very long moment or three of silence.

“Father, are you still there?”

“Yes. I’m thinking.”

“Who was this man who appears to be my brother? What was he doing in Boston? And for that matter, why didn’t I know about it?”

“Marco, there are some things that you need to know now that you are about to venture out into the world… things which I had planned to tell you when I see you this summer. For now, let me say that throughout your entire life, there has been either a member of the family or someone in my employ nearby.”

“Why?”

“In case you were ever in need of anything important. For example, had you ever been arrested, someone would have been at your side the moment it became known. I have someone near your mother’s home as well.”

“Why didn’t I know this?”

“Think about it for a moment—if you were aware that someone was, as the Americans say, ‘keeping an eye on you’, it might have influenced your life. If I resided in the States, it wouldn’t have been necessary to do this because I could be there quickly when and if needed.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“There is nothing to say, my son. I have a large family, and I do my humble best to see that none of them come to harm.”

“What was my late brother’s name?”

“In America he went by the name Tommaso Argenti.”

“Is there anything you would like for me to do?”

“Help me make arrangements to have his body flown home to Aragoni for burial.”

“Certainly.”

“If you and Danilo would be so kind, I would regard it as a favor if you would go to Tommaso’s home and check for certain documents. I can tell you what to look for.”

“Did he live alone?”

“Yes.”

“How will we gain access? For that matter, if his wallet and identification were stolen, the thief may already have visited his home.”

“Any identification he carried, including his passport, would have contained the address of the New York office of one of the family companies. A thief wouldn’t know how to find his residence. Were there keys in his possession?”

“Dani,” I said, “are his possessions still at the morgue?”

“I have no idea. Let me make a couple of calls and I’ll find out.”

He left the room to make the calls, so I said, “Dani has gone to another room to make inquiries by telephone.”

“If you have something to write on, I’ll give you all the information I can. I have it right here in my computer.”

I pulled a yellow pad out of my desk drawer and grabbed a pen. “Ready when you are.”

“All right. The first information I’m going to give you is the name of a New York attorney and his private contact information. Feel free to call him at any time of the day or night.”

He dictated the information and asked me to read it back to him.

“I can’t imagine why I would need to, but thanks.”

“One has to be prepared for any contingency. Suppose, for example, a neighbor observed you entering Tommaso’s residence and called the police?”

“I take your meaning.”

“Good. Now I’m going to give you the address and the code to the alarm system.”

Dani came back into the den just as I finished confirming that data.

“Marco,” Dani said, “the hospital still has some clothing and a set of keys that were in the deceased’s pockets.”

“Great. Will they give the keys to us?”

“Normally they wouldn’t, but since you’re a relative, I think we can persuade them to do so.”

“That’s good,” Father said. “My thanks to both of you. Please call me the minute you gain access to Tommaso’s home.”

“Yes, Sir, we will.”

We said good-bye, and I ended the call. Dani gave me the ‘look’.

“What?” I said.

“Why were you withholding information from your father?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Don’t be disingenuous. You didn’t tell him that we know your brother is a lot older than he seems, or that we knew what his name was back in 1955.”

“It’s a good rule in a card game to never give away your hand—at least not entirely.”

“Don’t you trust your own father?”

“Of course I do. But there are some questions best asked when you’re face-to-face, not least of which is about my siblings. The guy who answered the telephone said there are several sons.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean.”

“Meanwhile, we have an errand to run.”

“Yeah. Where did this guy live?” Dani said.

“From the address, I’m guessing it must be in the North End.”

“That figures. He’s from a country that’s next door to Italy and would probably feel more comfortable there, just like my grandparents do.”

“I’m gonna look it up on MapQuest before we go.”

Map in hand, we returned to the hospital and managed to acquire my brother’s keys. My brother. An odd concept for a man who’d been raised thinking he was an only child. I could still hear the voice that had said, ‘He has several’. It took our taxi a while to get across town to the North End, but finally it stopped in front of a block of late-nineteenth century town houses.

“The trick,” I said as Dani and I walked up the sidewalk to the front door of the town house, “is to act as if we own the place and have every right to be here.”

“You read too many detective stories.”

“True, but it’s a good theory.”

I found the correct key on the key ring, inserted it into the lock, and turned it. The minute we stepped inside, I heard the beeping of an alarm. I followed the sound to a keypad, pressed the appropriate buttons, and the beeping ceased.

“What now, Sherlock?” Dani said.

“Let’s take a quick walk-through of the place before we call my father.”

“Right behind you.”

The town house was, as are most such residences, roughly one room wide and three stories—plus basement—tall. We went to the top floor and worked our way down to the basement.

When we were back in the foyer where we’d begun, Dani said, “I think that second floor study is where we want to be when you place the call.”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

We settled down in the comfortable study, and I placed the call. This time my father answered on the first ring.

“It’s Marco, Father,” I said. “Dani and I are in Tommaso’s study on the second floor.”

“Obviously you gained access to the house with no problem.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Is there a computer on the desk?”

“Yes, Sir, a fairly new looking laptop.”

“Do you know how to remove the hard drive?”

“Sure,” Dani said, “is that what you want us to do?”

“Please. Remove the hard drive and take it with you. There are, I believe, bookcases on at least one wall?”

“Yes, Sir,” I said.

“One small section of the bookcase will swing out and reveal a wall safe.”

“Hold a moment and I’ll give it a try.”

I walked over to the wall of bookshelves and began to push and pry. Finally, I was rewarded when a small section opened out on hidden hinges. I could see the dial of a safe, so I retrieved the phone from the desk. “Okay, I’m looking at the dial of a safe.”

“Here’s the combination. I will give it to you one turn at a time.”

Following his instructions, I managed to get the safe to open. “It’s open,” I said.

“Good. Please remove the contents, close the door, and spin the dial.”

I carried a bundle of documents to the desk and set them down. Then I went back to the safe, closed it, and spun the dial before closing the panel of books that hid it from view. At the desk once again, I said, “All done. The safe is closed and locked, the books are back in place, and I have the documents on the desk in front of me. What else can we do?”

“Check through the desk for any documents that appear to be of a financial or very personal nature.”

“I can do that. By the way, I thought you said that he lived alone.”

“He does. Why do you ask?”

“Because the closet in the master bedroom contains a fair amount of women’s clothes.”

“Your brother may have lived alone, but he didn’t always sleep alone.”

“Yeah. Should we attempt to notify the owner of the clothes?”

“Yes, please. I should have thought about that. Let me give you her name and number. She might wish to come to the house and remove her personal effects. If she wishes to take anything else to remember Tommaso by, that’s fine with me.”

“Does she know about me?”

“She knows only that he has a half-brother in Boston, but no details.”

“Won’t she wonder why she and I have never met?”

“I believe she will have been told that you and Tommaso weren’t close. Let me give you her name and number.”

Oh God, I thought. Just what I need to deal with—another death notification. I’ve done enough of that in the ER to last me a lifetime, but what the f**k. As a newly minted doctor, I’d better get used to it or find another job.

“I don’t have the right tools to remove the hard drive,” Danilo said, “but we can take the laptop with us.”

“Good,” Father said. “I should have asked if either of you could use the laptop. You’re welcome to it.”

“My laptop is only a year old,” Dani said, “but Marco’s has some age on it.”

“Then by all means, take it and use it.”

“Is there anything else we need to do, Father? Other than calling this lady, I mean.”

“I think not. Tommaso was always a very careful man. He would have kept important things in the safe.”

“Would he have had a backup disk of the laptop’s hard drive?” I said.

“No. Any critical data would have been uploaded to a computer here in Aragoni on a nightly basis. I’d appreciate it if you would send the documents to me.”

“Will do. I guess we’ll say good-bye, and call the lady; it’s getting very late.”

“One minute. There should be some very fine Italian wine in the kitchen and in the cellar. You’re welcome to it as well.”

“Yes, Sir. Fine Italian wine sounds good to me. Thank you.”

We ended the call, and Dani rummaged around in the study until he found what we hoped were all the software and accessories for the laptop, as well as its carrying case.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s call this woman and break the news to her.”

I made the call, and we waited until the woman appeared at the door. When that sad mission had been accomplished and the lady had gone home, we summoned a taxi and returned to our apartment. When we were settled down in our den, I said, “Well, that went well, don’t you think?”

“At least it went better than we expected. Go ahead and call your father before it gets any later.”

“Right. We did promise.”

I set my cell phone on the desk and pushed the buttons.

“D’Aragoni,” my father’s voice came from the speaker.

“It’s us, Father,” I said. “We’re back in our apartment.”

“How did the lady handle the news?”

“Very well actually.”

“What did she look like?”

“Well, I—”

“Marco,” Dani said, interrupting me, “there’s no need to prevaricate. I can describe the lady in five words.”

“Go ahead, then,” Father said.

“Blonde, big t**s, vacant expression,” Dani said.

A burst of laughter came from the telephone. “That would be my Tommaso—he knew how to pick them. Thank you, Danilo; I needed a good laugh to take my mind away from more serious matters.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dani said. “I’m sorry about your son.”

“He won’t be the first child of my body that I’ve buried, but it never gets easier.”

“Father,” I said, “is there anything else we can do?”

“I don’t think so. Once you give my contact information to a local mortuary establishment, my people will take it from there.”

“What will you do with the house?”

“Turn it over to a rental agent. I buy a lot of real estate, but I never sell. Perhaps you boys would like to live in it?”

“That’s a nice thought, but we are for all intents and purposes finished with our current situation and with Boston. Who knows where we’ll be in the fall?”

“I hadn’t thought of that. Still, the offer stands. By the way, did you find the Windows disks for the laptop operating system?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I will trust you to reinstall Windows and wipe the hard drive in the process.”

“Yes, Sir. We’ll take care of it.”

“We’re going back to the house tomorrow to retrieve the wine,” Dani said.

“Wonderful. While you’re at it, take anything else you think you can use.”

“Yes, Sir. Let me say again that even though I didn’t know my brother, I’m sorry he has died.”

“Thank you. When I finally retire for the evening, I will grieve in private.”

The next day after work, we took our car—a car is a liability in Boston, so we shared one—to the North End, and went through the town house once again. Our efforts were rewarded with a full dozen bottles of very fine Italian wine. We also selected half a dozen books from the shelves in the late Tommaso’s study. I called a local funeral home, gave them the necessary information, and we began to make serious plans to wrap things up in Boston. When the time came, a pair of round-trip tickets was delivered by FedEx, and we began to prepare for our summer in Italy.

The day before we were to depart, Dani received a telephone call. He listened for a few minutes and said, “Send me an e-mail with a file attachment. Thanks.”

“Who was that?” I said.

“My friend at MIT.”

“Oh, the radiocarbon dating guy.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what did he have to say?”

“He’s sending me a report attached to an e-mail.”

“That’s it?”

“No, that’s not it. But I don’t want to say anything else until I have the document in hand.”

He went to his computer, clicked the mouse a few times, and the LaserJet began to hum. When the printing stopped, he pulled a single sheet of paper, read it, and handed it to me. I looked at it and tried to digest the words.

“This isn’t possible,” I said.

“I think it is. The science is sound, and I think that report is accurate.”

“Well, well. I guess we’re gonna have one more question to ask my father when we see him.”

“That’s for sure.”

We closed our apartment and left for the airport the next day. We took the subway to the airport, as we were traveling somewhat light, having shipped most of our luggage ahead.

In the airport lounge, Dani said, “Are you sure you don’t want to go see your mother?”

“Dani, it’s too late now. Besides, I talked to her housekeeper, and it would have been a wasted effort. She’s been totally out of it for several weeks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is, and you of all people know how long I’ve been dealing with that particular problem.”

“True. Let’s start looking forward to the summer instead of backward, agreed?”

“Agreed.”