Dr Jew

spine ignited. "Why do you ask?" I said.
    "It is, isn 't it? We heard you discussing it with him. Hate to break it to you, but Dr. Jew is a bit of a quack with Swine-AIDS. Obsessed about it. But he has no cure."
    "He told me – "
    "And you believed him?" said Eve.
    "Maybe he really does have a cure," I said.
    "Fat chance."
    "But… Lise."
    "Look," said Adam, "are you gonna help us or not? If we get in his place while he's gone we'll get the dirt on him and put him away for good. If he gets back he'll have time to cover his tracks. We've got to get in there! Don't you care about justice?"
    "I can 't be involved, I'm sorry. I have a deal with him. He may yet save my wife and I can't be involved with criminal activities. You understand? I'll – I'll draw you a map. But otherwise you're on your own."
    "That 's fine," he said. "That's all we need. Thank you, Mr. Simpatico."
    They left with Dr. Jew's address. Victor said that dinner would be ready in five minutes. My appetite had gone.
    I tried calling Lise in Mexico for the next few hours before the phone was finally answered. It was that man .
    "Yes?" he said.
    "Dr. Jew."
    "Yes. I assume by your English that this is Sergio."
    "Yes. Is she –"
    "Serge, babe! The treatment is complete, heheheh. Thank you for calling."
    "Wait, Doctor! Can you turn on the webcam so I can see Lise? Can I talk with her?"
    "Ridiculously out of the question. I'm sorry, Serge, but the patient is recovering. But all… all is… well. Well."
    "Just let me see her. Please, Doctor."
    "I 'm most sorry, Serge. Must consider the old girl's feelings. Wouldn't want me pointing a slimy camera her way when she's so partially hydrogenated. Still pumping monkey juice in and have her on the couch. Taking a powder, as they say."
    "When can I see her? I just want to know she's okay."
    "She 's okay," said Dr. Jew.
    "Please have her call me. When she's awake."
    "Yes, yes. Got to go now. Patients first!"
    The line went dead.
    Did I trust him? I had no other choice. I didn't dare consider the alternative. Imprisoning that young couple. God, no. They had to be deluded, confused. And I gave them his address. They'd discovered my connection to Dr. Jew and were abusing and lying to me because I'm famous. Everyone does it. Sure they looked normal, rational. But they probably fed razor blades to endangered species in their spare time. How gullible was I? Plus Dr. Jew wanted to work with me on some abominable future collaboration. Of course he'd save her. He had a vested interest.

    The next morning we were back on the grind at the Simpaticofilm offices. Call it two or three more days of editing, cleaning it up. In my head that's how it looked which usually means twice that long. So: a week. And then a vacation till the premiere. Get out of the country with Lise, as far from Mexico as we can get. Maybe Alaska. Cruise could be nice. God, it'll be good to see her.
    When I got to my office, Angelo said someone wanted to see me.
    "Let 'em wait till afternoon," I said. "We're busy putting this bitch under the table. Tell Jim and Sam I'll be down in ten –"
    "I think you might want to see them now. It's the police."
    "The – ?" First thought: Dr. Jew. Associating with him, that criminal mind. Oh God. "Alright. Send 'em in."
    I checked the mirror and cleaned my teeth as though any of that mattered. Nervous twits, quirks. I hadn't done anything wrong, had I? Well, bite the bullet.
    They came in casually and I tried to look authoritarian behind my desk , while feeling volcano and cowardly. Two male cops in uniform, one a black guy and the other white (why that common combination with cop duos?) and they looked like they loved the Nice Nazis – I could see it in their eyes. That made me less nervous. I spent a decade of my life making an anti-authoritarian existential series, and its biggest fans are cops and Christians. Damned if I understand it. I just work here.
    "Hello, gentlemen."
    The white one spoke. "Mr. Simpatico, can we just say that we've seen all your movies –"
    "You and every obese teenager on the internet. What can I do for you?"
    "W e have some news. Some bad news."
    No. Lise. No.
    "An acquaintance of yours… well, they 've passed on."
    "No!" I said. "No. Where is she? Let me see her!"
    Even as I felt the grief I wa s reminded of Hamlet jumping into the grave to hold Ophelia one last time, and even as I recalled the scene I remarked my ability to distance myself from my emotions and the immediate situation