Drug of Choice (Hard Case Crime)
Michael Crichton
Language: English
Pages: 224
ISBN: 1783291230
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
On a secret island in the Caribbean, bioengineers have devised a vacation resort like no other, promising the ultimate escape. But when Dr. Roger Clark investigates, he discovers the dark secret of Eden Island and of Advance Biosystems, the shadowy corporation underwriting it...
with you?” “Some aspirin,” Clark said. “I have a headache.” Moss frowned. “We have something much better than aspirin. Have you tried Phenimol?” “No.” “Great stuff. Antipyretic, anti-inflammatory, and very strong analgesic. No side effects. And it works very well on cancer of the colon, if you happen to have—” “I don’t.” “Well, it’s just great for headaches. Just great.” “Addicting?” “Well, yes…” “I’ll take the aspirin,” Clark said. Moss gave it to him regretfully. As he was leaving,
Clark said, “By the way, Pete. You keep up with the experimental drugs, don’t you?” “Well, I try.” “Heard anything about a drug that changes urine color?” “Changes it how?” “Turns it blue.” “Blue? No. Why?” “How about a drug that puts you into a coma?” Moss laughed. “I can’t imagine a market for it.” “Neither can I,” Clark said. But the joke started him thinking: suppose Sharon Wilder and Arthur Lewis hadn’t taken the drug accidentally. Suppose they had taken it for a purpose, a specific
the time, goofies…” “Did he ever try anything really unusual?” The Angel frowned. “You got a line on something?” “No,” Clark said. “Just wondered.” “Naw, he was pretty straight. Never shot stuff, even. He’s the oral type, you know.” The Angel paused. “Now how about it. Do I see him, or what?” Clark shook his head. “He’s in a coma.” “You keep talking this coma crap.” There was a moment of silence, and the Angel reached into his pocket Clark heard a metallic click as the switchblade snapped
his hands. “Just forget the whole damned thing. You’re a nice girl. You’ll make some lucky guy a fine wife. Go out, get married, get divorced, get married again, have some kids, get divorced—do the California thing, and be happy.” “You’re very peculiar,” she said, looking at him and tugging down at her short skirt. “I was born under an unlucky star,” Clark said. “Gee,” she said. “That’s too bad.” Clark sighed. She was innocent and wide-eyed and lovely. And he would never in a million years
don’t like the servants around in the mornings.” She walked out of the room and he got slowly up from the bed. He could remember nothing of the night before, nothing since being on the bridge of the boat. It was odd, disorienting. He must have been drunk as hell. Yet there was no hangover; in fact, he felt marvelous. Better than he’d felt in a long time. He walked around the room, looking at her makeup desk, her closet, a small writing table in the corner. There was a letter on top of the