The Bloodcicle Agent

By George J. Brewer

Peter Faulkner, a graduate student in microbiology, called his wife to tell her hed be late, and made the mistake of calling from his mentors office. Catching Peter in his presumably locked office when he returned unexpectedly, Professor Jergens was enraged, mistakenly thinking Peter had seen secret material. The Professors suspicions set in motion a series of events that, before they had run their course, led to numerous deaths that seemed to be due to some mysterious poison or infection. Peter found himself in the middle, accused of the murders, and fighting for his life to try to solve the mystery of what was causing the deaths. The agent was extremely mysterious, killing but leaving no trace of itself. Could Peter solve the mystery of this deadly agent, while being hounded by powerful and sinister forces that didnt want this secret exposed?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 11, 2007
• ISBN: 9781465324610

George J. Brewer

Dr. George Brewer is a recognized world expert on all aspects of copper, but also has expertise in zinc and other micronutrients. He worked for over 30 years on the inherited disease of copper toxicity, Wilson's disease. He has published over 100 peer-reviewed papers on the topic and developed two new therapies for the disease: zinc and tetrathiomolybdate. Due to his research, zinc was approved for Wilson's disease by the FDA in 1997 and is now the treatment of choice for maintenance therapy. Over the last decade he has been working on Alzheimer's disease; his research has demonstrated that Alzheimer’s patients are zinc-deficient and benefit from zinc therapy. Dr. Brewer has developed a new zinc formulation that is non-irritating and can be taken once daily. Over his career he has published over 430 papers and has written and edited numerous books.

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Copyright © 2007 by George J. Brewer.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2007902843

ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-4257-5767-0

Softcover 978-1-4257-5765-6

ISBN: ebk 978-1-4653-2461-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Aftermath

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I would like to acknowledge that the idea of a perfect murder weapon, a bloodcicle made from the victim’s own blood, came from my wife, Lucia F. Brewer. The cover painting of a hand holding a bloodcicle was painted by a friend, Kippie Baltrus.

Chapter 1

Can a day be cursed? Not just one day in a lifetime of days but one of those days that annually recycles through lives like a wedding anniversary. Natalie had made it clear to Peter that she thought their anniversary day was cursed and the responsibility for the curse was clearly Peter’s.

It had started with the wedding day itself, with Peter’s father angry at Natalie’s parents over the cost of the rehearsal dinner, and then Peter showing up late and hungover for the ceremony itself. On each of the succeeding four anniversaries, Peter had had some kind of problem. The first two hadn’t really been his fault—severe flu for the first one and his grandmother’s death for the second. However, on their third anniversary, he had inexplicably, unforgivably forgotten and made prior arrangements. Natalie had let the day pass and then reminded him the next day with a gift and a card. She hadn’t acted bitter, but he knew she had been hurt by his forgetfulness. And then last year, his mentor, Professor Paul Jergens, had insisted Peter attend an out-of-town scientific meeting, which happened to fall on the Day. Peter had tried to make up for it by taking Natalie to a fancy restaurant with champagne and all before he left for the meeting. Nonetheless, that was the year, last year, when Natalie first described the day as cursed.

Today was again the Day, the fifth the Day to be exact. This time Peter had sworn to himself that the evening was going to be perfect. He had made dinner reservations at one of Oakfield’s finest restaurants, with plans for champagne with a few friends afterward at their condo. He had gone into the laboratory as usual, with plans to leave early. Then, Professor Jergens had asked him to do an experiment for him, just a simple incubation that shouldn’t take long. Peter had protested, mentioning his evening’s plans with Natalie, but Professor Jergens had told Peter that he needed the information from the incubation and had pooh-poohed the time problem.

However, the curse had struck again apparently, because the experiment had proved time-consuming and balky. It was already six, and he was due home in an hour if they were to leave for dinner on time. He heaved a deep sigh and said, Shit.

Ted Grimes, also working late, must have heard him because he asked, Problems, huh? Can I help?

Ted was tall and slender, with dark hair, attractive, and quite gay. He had been a fixture in Professor Paul Jergens’s lab for years. He had done his PhD degree with Jergens and then stayed on to work with the professor, apparently indefinitely. It was well-known that Jergens, who was married, was bisexual and that he and Ted had been an item for a long time. Among his many qualities, Ted had excellent skills in the laboratory and was always helpful to graduate students like Peter.

Peter said, Thanks, Ted, but this is one the professor gave me some special instructions about, and he wanted me to finish it today. I’m just going to have to wait it out. My problem is I’m going to be late to take Natalie out for our anniversary dinner.

Maybe I could finish it for you. You could give me the instructions. I don’t have anything special to do tonight.

That’s very kind of you. But I have several rather complicated things to do after the incubation. But thanks.

No problem. Let me know if you change your mind.

Peter checked the incubation once again and then decided he’d better call Natalie. He was reluctant to use the phone in the lab, because he wanted to sweet-talk her a little, and Ted would be listening. He thought about using the phone in Professor Jergens’s office, since he’d discovered his key to the lab also fits the door to Jergens’s office. He knew the key department had made some kind of mistake, because the keys of other people in the lab didn’t fit Jergens’s office, except for Ted’s. Surely, the professor wouldn’t mind if Peter used his office phone, seeing that it was Peter’s anniversary that was getting screwed up because of his dedication to finishing the professor’s experiment.

Peter unlocked the door to the office and clicked on the light. The office was spacious and well appointed with oak paneling, lots of wooden bookshelves, and a large oak desk. A couple of notebooks were open on the desk, along with numerous pieces of loose paper scattered about. The professor and Ted had had a meeting in the office a few hours before, and, apparently, the material they were discussing still littered the desk.

Peter sat down in the very comfortable swivel chair and dialed. A moment later, Natalie answered, Hello.

"Hi, Nat. Hey, I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Which do you want to hear first?

I already know the bad news. You’re going to be late, aren’t you? It’s the curse again.

Yeah, but wait till you hear the good news. I won’t come into the lab tomorrow morning, and we can sleep late. That way, we can party into the wee hours. As he spoke, Peter idly pushed one of the open notebooks aside to look at some of the pictures under the glass plate that covered the professor’s desk.

Natalie said, Well, that’s a concept. How late are you going to be?

One of the pictures showed a very shapely blond woman clad in the skimpiest of bikinis. The attractive face in the picture was that of Serena Jergens, the professor’s wife. Peter had lost the thread of the conversation. He said, Sorry, Nat. What did you say?

How late are you going to be?

I’ll make it by eight. I’ll call the restaurant and make it for an hour later. He had known Mrs. Jergens was a beautiful and shapely woman but seeing all that flesh gave him a shock and a thrill. Peter saw a couple of additional revealing photos of her under the glass, and he pushed papers aside to get a better look.

Natalie said, Okay, I’ll call our friends and delay them a little as well. You be home by eight, okay?

Sure.

You want me to give you a little incentive?

What do you mean?

I’m wearing nothing but silk stockings and a black garter belt. Sure you won’t be home earlier than eight?

He tore his eyes away from the pictures, feeling guilty about his lustful thoughts while talking to his wife about their anniversary. He said, God, is that all you’re wearing? Maybe I’ll come home sooner.

That’s my boy.

Nat, I love you so much. I’m really looking forward to tonight.

Hold that thought. Hurry up. That stupid experiment can’t be that important.

I’ll hurry. Bye, honey.

As he hung up the phone, Peter was shocked and surprised to see Paul Jergens enter the door. Peter suddenly realized that the clear spaces on the desk would make it obvious that he’d been ogling over the revealing pictures of the professor’s wife. He surreptitiously moved one of the notebooks and some of the papers over Serena’s photos.

It was too late. As Paul Jergens approached, his eyes fixed almost hypnotically on Peter’s hands and the area of the desk on which they rested. When Paul spoke, his voice was angry, What are you doing in here?

Peter felt his face redden. He stammered, Just… just making a call, you know… to Natalie. I’m late, you know, and…

Paul interrupted, There’s a phone out in the lab. Why did you come in here?

Peter gathered himself and said, It’s our anniversary, and I’m late because the experiment I was doing for you was slow. I wanted to apologize to Natalie and say some sweet things to her to make up for being late. I was embarrassed to talk in front of Ted. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d mind. I’m sorry.

How did you get in here?

My key fits your office lock.

What! The lab keys don’t fit my office. What did you do, get a special key?

No, it just happened. Mine fits, accidentally, I guess.

Paul looked at him in disbelief. So you’ve been going in and out of my office whenever you want, evenings and weekends?

No. Only once before. That was when I found my key fit. I wanted to check something in a book on your shelf.

If you were just making a call, why were you nosing around with my papers and notebooks?

Peter felt his face redden again. The professor was probably correctly surmising that Peter had been ogling his wife’s pictures! Peter said lamely, I wasn’t, really. I was kind of idly toying with them while I talked.

Paul said acidly, You had already hung up the phone when I saw you moving my papers around. You wouldn’t be idly toying at that point.

Peter searched frantically for a reasonable answer. After a pause, he said, I guess I was worried I’d disturbed your papers, and I wanted to put things back like they were.

Paul stared at him, and Peter realized he wasn’t believed. He considered confessing that he’d seen Serena’s pictures, apologize, and put an end to it. Then Paul asked, How long were you in here?

Maybe ten minutes.

And you called Natalie and talked to her?

Yes.

Paul reached for the phone and dialed. After a moment, he said into the phone, Hi, Natalie? This is Paul Jergens. I wanted to speak to Peter, please.

Peter couldn’t believe this was happening over what had to be viewed as a minor indiscretion. After listening for a moment, Paul said, He called from the lab? How long ago would you say? After a pause, Paul said, About five minutes? Okay. I’m sure I can catch him at the lab. Thanks, Natalie.

Peter continued to be shocked and in disbelief over the phone call to Natalie. Did Paul think he’d sneaked into the office for the sole purpose of taking a dirty little peek at Serena’s photos and not to call Natalie at all? As Paul hung up the phone, Peter said, with irritation creeping into his voice, You didn’t believe I came in here to call Natalie and that I lied about calling her?

Paul said angrily, I’m still not sure why you came in here. I’ve got private material in here. Confidential things. That’s why the office is keyed separately. So what did you see in your snooping?

Peter decided to be stubborn. He was annoyed about the call to Natalie and about the distrust. I was talking to Natalie. I didn’t notice anything else.

That red face and tone of voice says you’re lying, Peter. You might as well tell me the truth. It would be better all around. You tell me the truth, and then we’ll deal with it.

God, if the man was so concerned about people seeing his wife’s body, why did he have her pictures displayed on his desk? Peter continued to dig in his heels. I’m not lying. But I’m upset that you don’t believe me and that you felt you had to call Natalie to check.

Paul stared at him for a long moment. Then he said, Very well, Peter. But I’m not happy with you being in here, and I’m sure you’re lying about what you saw. It’s a good thing I was still in the building, attending a meeting, when Ted came looking for me.

Ted?

Of course, he knew you weren’t supposed to be in here.

Peter couldn’t conceal his surprise and irritation. Why in hell didn’t he just stop me when he saw me going in if your office is such a big off-limits deal?

You know Ted. He doesn’t like confrontations. It’s better he came for me so I could deal with it. Paul sounded halfway conciliatory. Then he bristled again. Anyway, it shouldn’t take a rocket scientist to be aware that entering your professor’s locked private office and snooping around his desk is really unacceptable behavior. You’re not ever to come in here again unless I invite you. And I’ll take that key. Get yourself another one, and this time, make sure it’s the right one.

Peter stomped out of the office, shut down his experiment without finishing it, and went home to take Natalie to dinner. What a fuss over a few pictures. Maybe there was a curse on the Day after all.

Chapter 2

This evening would be pivotal in her life, but of course, Natalie Faulkner did not realize that. It was three days after their wedding anniversary dinner, for which Peter had surprisingly shown up on time after apologizing because he thought he would be late. He’d never explained why he had changed his mind, refusing to talk about it.

The evening started out routinely enough. While she finished toweling off after her shower, she stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom and examined her body. Not too shabby, she said to herself. Her face was attractive and topped by luxurious long black hair. Her body was slender, with petite breasts, shapely hips, and long slender legs. She was proud of her slender body and the way she kept it fit. She was aware of the positive effects it and her strong sexual appetite had on her marriage. She was much in love with Peter, who, at times, seemed to live mainly so that he could go to bed with her. To some, including her parents, they had appeared to have little in common when they’d married five years ago. He a Waspy graduate student in microbiology, struggling both financially and with his PhD research; she from a wealthy Jewish family and already a successful businesswoman. Plus, at thirty-three, she was six years his senior.

They had met at a party. She had initially been attracted to his boyish good looks and husky, strong-looking six-foot body. He had a shock of unruly brown hair, which she loved to rumple even more. But more than his looks, she loved his easygoing, laid-back personality and sense of humor. Underneath his relaxed manner, she knew there was great strength of character. She just knew that he would eventually be a leader in his field. He had told her that he liked her contrasting personality—upbeat but intense, competitive, and fun loving. And of course, it was obvious that he loved the sex. As for her, until Peter, sex hadn’t seemed that great. Maybe it was because, for the first time, she was in love. When she had first had sex with him, the sparks had begun to fly. Mutual enjoyment of their sex life had rounded out a relationship where they also had begun to like each other’s companionship, and they had grown very close.

From Natalie’s perspective, their five years of marriage had been very fulfilling. However, she saw two storm clouds on the horizon, and she blamed both of them on the couple who were hosting them for dinner tonight. One problem was the length of time it was taking Peter to get his PhD, six years by now and no end in sight. Generally, graduate students in microbiology at Oakfield University Medical Center did their PhD in about five years. Natalie blamed Professor Paul Jergens, Peter’s mentor and their dinner host for tonight, for this problem. Most of Peter’s peers felt he was a brilliant scientist, but Professor Jergens just didn’t seem interested in making sure Peter had a thesis project with a reasonable time frame for completion. Instead, he constantly used Peter’s considerable talents to help with a variety of Dr. Jergen’s own projects, such as the experiment he had been doing on their anniversary evening. This exploitation was in direct contrast to the helpful way he had treated another student in the lab, John Fitzgerald. John had been working on his PhD for only four years and was nearing completion of the work for his dissertation. The reason he was making such good progress, Natalie believed, was that Professor Jergens had identified an appropriate project, circumscribed rather than endless, one that moved along at a good pace, with an end in sight. Natalie was convinced that John Fitzgerald was not brighter or more talented than Peter; he was simply being mentored properly while Peter was not. And for the life of her, Natalie couldn’t understand why. Peter and Professor Jergens had a good relationship. It was frustrating. Peter needed to get his PhD so they could get on with their lives. They wanted children, and her biological clock was ticking!

The second storm cloud also resided at the Jergenses’ residence. It was Mrs. Jergens, Serena Jergens to be precise. She was Professor Jergens’s wife, and she was stunningly attractive. She was tall, about Natalie’s height at five foot eight, but with a body that made Natalie’s look like that of an undeveloped adolescent. Her body, together with facial beauty and a personality that exuded sex, made it hard for men to keep their eyes off of her. And unfortunately, Peter was no exception. Whenever they socialized with the Jergenses, for a week or so after, Natalie could tell Peter was fantasizing about Serena. He never said anything, but she could tell. This, too, was frustrating and was yet another reason to get the stupid PhD done and get the hell out of here.

Natalie was sitting in front of her dresser, blow-drying her hair, when Peter entered the bedroom, still toweling off from his shower. He came over and leaned over her, staring at their reflection in the mirror. He reached down to hold her breasts and said, Honey, you shouldn’t sit around nude like this unless you want to get me going.

We have to leave in half an hour but hold that thought till we get back, Natalie said, and then she added, her mood still spiteful, that’s if you can think about anything but Serena when we get home. As soon as she said it, she was sorry. Peter had never mentioned Serena in any but the most casual way even though Serena had always been terribly flirtatious with Peter, pushing her body up against him, inviting him to lunch, and generally acting as if she were available. Still, Peter had never responded to her overtures, so the remark was born of pure jealousy. At that moment, Natalie hated herself for not being a bigger person.

She watched Peter staring at the two reflections in the mirror, and her spiteful feelings turned to embarrassment and shame. She saw his cheeks begin to redden, and she felt tears start to form.

After a moment’s silence, he said, I’m not sure where that remark came from. I love you and only you.

She stood up and turned toward him, hugging him close, crying gently. I know. It’s just that she’s so damn sexy and always trying to force herself on you. How can you help but think about her? I’m jealous of those thoughts, I guess. I love you so much, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. I’m sorry about the remark.

He held her tight. Honey, fantasies are normal, you know. Men fantasize about sexy women, and women fantasize about sexy men. Love is much, much, more than that. It envelops the whole person, personality, experiences together, just everything including sex. Don’t worry your sexy little self about Serena or anyone else, because I love you. And you are actually the sexiest woman I know. I don’t think about her any more than I do the latest movie star.

Reassured, she said, I love you.

I love you too.

They finished dressing and headed for the garage. They lived in an upscale three-bedroom condo, with space for two cars in the attached garage. Peter drove a relatively new Chrysler while Natalie had a BMW convertible. Whenever they were out for fun, they drove the BMW, which was their choice for tonight. The cars and relative luxury in which they lived were all thanks to Natalie’s affluence.

Peter asked, Would you like to drive?

No, you drive. Let’s put the top down, it’s such a pleasant evening.

As they got under way, Natalie asked, Has Jergens done anything about getting you a better-defined project? Natalie had developed the habit of referring to the professor by his last name, which she knew bothered Peter. She knew it was in his blood to be respectful of people in a position of authority. She corrected herself. I mean Professor Jergens.

He responded, Professor Jergens and I are doing a lot of talking about it. Don’t worry, it’ll come out okay.

She said, her voice reflecting her irritation, Peter, John Fitzgerald is passing you by and not because of anything but that Jergens has given him a good project.

He said in a patient, calm voice, What you have to recognize is that research is unpredictable. John’s project happened to work. I’ll get one like that soon.

Yeah, but by then I’ll be a dried-up old prune, she said, her voice trailing off.

What?

Nothing, nothing.

They pulled into the driveway of the Jergenses’ home, a sprawling Tudor mansion in a neighborhood of less-pretentious smaller homes. The Jergenses were quite well-off based in part, at least according to rumor, on rather large consulting fees that added to Paul’s university salary. They were greeted at the door by both Paul and Serena. Paul was a relatively small man, about an inch shorter than his wife, and slender. His brown hair was receding slightly, and he had a squarish face. Tonight he was wearing a shirt with a sweater vest and sport coat without a tie. He looked like a typical professor. Serena’s dark hair was swept up in a type of bun. She was wearing a formfitting blue dress, not cut in any provocative way but filled out in a provocative way nonetheless.

Greetings exchanged, Natalie and Peter were ushered into the living room. The Fitzgeralds were already there, sipping cocktails and helping themselves to hors d’oeuvres. John was smaller even than Professor Jergens, being only about five foot six and thin, with a narrow face. He looked like a nerd, but Peter and he were good friends. Peter had helped him numerous times with his thesis project. Ann Fitzgerald was a pretty brunette, petite with a very bubbly personality. However, the Faulkners had learned that she quickly became whiny if she didn’t get her way.

At that moment, Ted Grimes came in from the kitchen, carrying two bottles of wine, a white and a red. He lived in a guesthouse behind the Jergenses’ house. He often helped them entertain and would often join in the party as half host and half guest. He said, We’ve got two nice wines to pick from here, or I can fix a cocktail. We also have beer and various sodas. He went around the room displaying the wine labels.

Natalie looked at the labels and said, They look lovely, but it’s such a warm evening, I think I’d enjoy a gin and tonic if you have it.

Ted said, Of course, no problem.

Peter said, That sounds good. I’ll have a gin and tonic too.

The others selected wine. Ted served the gin and tonics first and then retreated to the kitchen to get the wine. Natalie tasted her drink and whispered to Peter, It’s a little too strong. Maybe he didn’t put enough lime in it.

Peter whispered back, There’s a much larger slice of lime in mine. Try it.

Natalie tasted Peter’s drink and whispered, Much better. Can we trade?

Of course. I don’t care if it tastes a little strong.

After serving the drinks, Ted joined them, and they sat around the living room exchanging idle chatter. After a second round of drinks, with Natalie and Peter fixing their own drinks this time, dinner was served. The Jergenses had a cook and a maid, and the two servants served dinner. Dinner was an excellent roast beef, with numerous side selections and an abundance of red wine.

After dinner, the group retired back to the living room for coffee. Until that point, the conversation had been strictly social with no mention of work topics. However, Natalie was feeling her cocktails and numerous refills of wine, and underneath, she was still annoyed about Peter’s situation. Her first sally into a work topic sounded innocent enough. John, how’s your thesis project going?

John answered, Oh, fine.

Expect to be done soon?

Another six months, I guess.

Natalie turned and looked at Paul Jergens. Professor, why isn’t Peter’s PhD moving along like that?

The direct question seemed to startle Jergens. He responded, Why, you know how research is. You can’t tell how long a project will take.

Natalie’s anger began to build. She tried, unsuccessfully, to control it. It seems to an outsider that you’ve given John more help than Peter in defining a project. Am I wrong about that?

Peter said, Natalie, stop it! Let’s change the subject. I know for one that I’ve had too much to drink.

Paul Jergens looked steadily at Natalie, his eyes cold. Yes, you are an outsider, an impolite one, but I’ll forgive that and blame it on the alcohol. And you are wrong about John getting extra help. He doesn’t need it because he is very talented.

That last remark, appearing to slight Peter’s talent, elevated Natalie’s anger to a new level. She said, I’m aware John is talented, but so is Peter. Do you slight him and take advantage of him to work on all of your pet projects because you have the ‘little man syndrome,’ you know, try to bring the better-looking larger man down to your level?

It was a terrible thing to say, as Natalie realized as soon as it was out of her mouth. There was a shocked silence. Paul Jergens stared daggers at Natalie, who returned his stare.

Ann said, It’s time for us to go. Thanks for a lovely evening.

Jewish princess bitch! Jergens hissed.

Serena escorted the hurriedly departing Fitzgeralds to the door while Peter, Natalie, and Paul maintained a stony silence. Suddenly, Natalie burst into tears. Peter went over to comfort her, as did Serena when she returned to the living room. While Peter comforted Natalie, he turned to Paul and said, She didn’t mean all that stuff. She’s not herself tonight.

Natalie’s crying intensified and degenerated into a coughing fit. Serena said, I’ll get her some water. After some time, she returned with a glass of water saying, I’m sorry it took so long. I had to find a clean glass. She handed the glass to Peter, who offered it to Natalie, who took a drink. It seemed to help with the coughing, but when she sat down, she knocked it over.

Serena said, I’ll get towels and clean that up.

Paul said, I’ll get her another glass of water.

After a moment, Serena returned with paper towels and began to mop up the spilled water. Paul came in with another glass of water and handed it to Peter. Peter said, We best be going. I’m sorry about what happened. We don’t really feel the way Natalie said. She’s just a little frustrated that it’s taking so long. Natalie began to wail again, which stimulated more coughing. Peter offered her the glass of water Paul had given him. She took the glass and drank more water. As she recovered this time, Peter hurried her toward the door. Over his shoulder he said, Thanks for dinner, and I’m sorry.

Natalie’s pivotal evening was over.

Chapter 3

In spite of his chagrin about Natalie’s attack on Professor Jergens, Peter soon had to admit that it seemed to have had a beneficial effect. The professor sat down with him three days after the party and discussed a way to approach a certain project and turn it into a circumscribed thesis project. It appeared the project could be completed within the next year. Although Peter wondered why it had taken the professor so long to help him in this manner, he knew Natalie would be delighted. He hurried home leaving the lab early to share the news with her.

Natalie owned a financial advisory and investing service. She usually worked at the company office in the morning and spent the afternoon at home, often working several hours at their home computer. However, when Peter arrived home, she was curled up on the couch in the living room and remained there.

Normally, she was quite animated in her greeting, coming to him at the door. Her behavior was so unusual that Peter was immediately concerned. He asked, Are you all right?

I don’t know. I don’t feel too good. And I’m thirsty as a horse. I can’t get enough to drink. And I seem to be peeing it all out.

When did this start?

A little yesterday but really bad today.

Do you have a fever?

No. I checked when I got home. Any ideas?

Diabetes can do that, but you’ve never had a high blood sugar or sugar in your urine, right?

Doctors have never mentioned it on my checkups.

"And no family history of