14
“Let me get this straight,” Dupree said. He was aiming the words at Detective Wolters. Officers Adams and Burnett both wearing their uniforms were standing in a corner of the office, which had become overcrowded. Dupree’s eyes locked on Sarah’s for a few seconds before he continued. “We have a murder, a theft and an arson attack all in one. All of these occurred within a couple of days. In other words we’re in the middle of a big mess. I wonder what else can go wrong.”
“Are you saying you’re holding us responsible for what’s going on?” Sarah asked her superior. She sat in the chair directly across from Dupree and looked into the man’s eyes. Instead of looking away, Dupree gazed back. A few moments of silence followed until he answered. His eyes turned stern.
“Garnham should have worked more closely with the available man power we have and yet he refuses to do so time after time,” Dupree said.
“Detective Garnham always gets a result in the end,” Adams replied.
“I know he does, but at what cost?” Dupree asked. Not waiting for an answer he continued. I want Adams and Burnett to deal with Mendez and report to me what’s going on.”
“You’ve seen the autopsy report. We all know what happened with the lad, Sarah said.”
“I’m not really convinced that’s all there is to know about the case. There must be more, like forensic evidence. Or did that disappear? Interview his father,” Dupree said.
“What I don’t understand is nobody told me the boy in the Ford was the son of my friend Jose Mendez. My friend is beyond himself with grief,” Sarah said.
“As a matter of fact Dr. Simon tried to tell you, but you were eager to leave,” Dupree answered.
“Yes, and another thing, who is the mysterious burned man?” Sarah asked.
“Indeed another puzzle which has to be solved. Need we talk to Malthouse again?” Dupree asked.
“I believe they are in this together,” Sarah replied.
“You mean Kinsella and Malthouse are cold blooded murders?” Adams asked
“They found out Ellis had stolen the Caryo.32 virus, waited for him at his residence, and then decided to kill him and burn his house down.”
“What did they do with the body? Remember there weren’t any remains of a human body found in his house.” Dupree said as he thoughtfully touched his goatee.
The theory seemed realistic to Sarah. The scientists, after all, had been working on a ’miracle’ cure for years; millions of dollars were involved. People have been killed for a lot less. When she mentioned this to the Lieutenant he remarked, “If Edgar Ellis was in any state like Rodrigo Mendez when he got back to his residence, surely he might have died before anybody could lay a hand on him. But you might have a point about the motive.”
“They could have been on to Ellis and deliberately made sure he took a damaged test tube.” Sarah responded.
“That might be a possibility, but I still find this extraordinary, after all, George Malthouse and John Kinsella were interrogated by Detective Garnham,” Dupree said.
“We also haven’t got the technical report from the car yet,” Sarah said.
“Yes that takes an awful long time, I suggest you check out what’s taking them so long,” Dupree said, he was still gazing at Sarah.
“In the meantime Adams can have a chat with Mr. Mendez.”
Dupree was right they only received the preliminary report of the Ford. The forensics must have found more than only the owner and the content of the missing test tube. “It’s odd there is nothing mentioned about the virus in the report, Sarah thought. The tube was still missing too. Whoever has the virus has a potential weapon. Why did nobody mention the safety of the population of LA? Was the murder on Rodrigo Mendez a red herring? Damn, I hate lying to him”.
Sarah put her helmet on and watched Adams leave the station. She waited until he got into his car and drove off. Then she took off her helmet and walked back to the station. When she was about to catch the door handle Dupree stepped outside.
“There is something I like to talk to you about,” Sarah said.
“Is it important?” Dupree asked.
“As a matter of fact it is,” Sarah answered.
“You will have to come with me, I am on my way for a bite to eat,” Dupree said.
“I’ll follow you on my bike,” Sarah said.
“I think you’re over reacting,” Dupree said. He was sitting in his favorite restaurant opposite him sat Detective Sarah Wolters.
“Hmm, this spaghetti is really the best ever,” Dupree said.
“It’s a virus we’re talking about here,” Sarah said. She’d chosen the ever famous pizza Margarita.
“You obviously haven’t paid much attention during the investigation. Malthouse and Kinsella have manipulated the virus in such a way the result turned into a cure for cancer. Do you understand what this means?”
“Yes, it means they’re going to be rich if all ends well. But have you forgotten my friend’s son was killed by this virus?” Sarah asked
“No I haven’t, he was an unfortunate victim of circumstances,” Dupree answered
“What?” Sarah exclaimed. “Unfortunate? There are thousands of people like Mendez, with the same blood group. Imagine they get in contact with the virus by accident or someone purposely infects people. Will you still say I am over reacting?”
Dupree’s chin was resting against his thumbs and his nose touched both index fingers. “I don’t believe the thieves are having this intention.”
“You mean to harm people?”
“Yeah, you know that stuff must be worth a lot of money. It’s more likely they will either sell it on, or if they own a laboratory they can produce the virus once they have the formula,” Dupree said.
“It makes more sense to me if they used one of the scientists for this,” Sarah remarked slicing off a large piece of her pizza.
“I guess that’s where our missing friend comes in,” Dupree said.
“You don’t think the body found in Ellis house is actually him?” Sarah asked.
“I don’t know for sure, but I strongly suspect someone is playing a dirty game with lives of innocent people. Ellis might have come willingly and part of the gang. I’ll send Adams and Burnett after the FABD. See if we can get any information out of them.”
Adams stood in front of Mr. Mendez apartment. He had been waiting for quite a while, but he knew the occupant was in. He could hear the TV. Finally after what seemed like a very long time, the door opened. A man wearing a dark green vest and weathered jeans looked surprised at him.
“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Mendez, but there are a few questions I have to ask you. Can I come in for a moment? It’s a bit awkward talking in a door way.”
Mr. Mendez moved backwards making enough space for Adams to get through.
Adams scanned the apartment. Two sofas were placed alongside the walls, facing a flat screen 21 inch TV set. One of the sofas, a dark brown leather two-seater was cluttered with un-opened bills and clothes. Removing a book and a few bills Adams sat down on the brown sofa. Although it had been full with clutter the sofa seemed the safest option to sit on. The other sofa appeared to have come from the nearest second hand furniture shop or even a dump. There were mysterious smudges on the beige fabric.
“I’m sorry I have to tell you this, Mr. Mendez, but we have reason to believe your son was involved in a drag race. What we like to know is who the other driver was.”
“I can’t help you with that,” Jose said, looking down.
“I do understand you can’t know everything your child does, it’s very hard nowadays to keep track of them and that’s why I want to have a look in his bedroom if that’s alright with you,” Adams said.
A deep sigh escaped Jose’s body; he studied the officer for a moment before he answered. Scratching his chin he said,” It’s through here.” He stepped into a small and opened a yellow painted door.
Adams ignored the sign KEEP OUT and followed Mr. Mendez inside Rodrigo’s domain. “You can stay if you want,” Adams said.
Jose removed a few clothes from his son’s bed to make some room to sit. “I hope you don’t mind the mess, I haven’t been able to tidy.”
“Don’t you worry about the state of the room it tells me a lot about your son.”
“Which is?”
“He was a normal teenager. I’ll be suspicious if my son’s room was clean and neat,” Adams smiled.
Jose had forgotten how busy their street was. Working the night shift he was never bothered about the dancing a couple of doors down the road, however tonight the thumping of the beat irritated him. He stepped away from the window to move the curtains back.
“What in God’s name happened”? First the police tells me Rodrigo died in a car accident, and now they say he might be murdered.
Back in bed Jose contemplated whether to call Sarah in the hope she might be able to clarify the situation. Searching for his mobile phone he touched a photograph on his bedside table. He realized he hadn’t told his wife. He noticed the time and understood making a call to his wife at this hour wasn’t a good idea.
Lately even the smallest things were too much for him. He got upset about not being able to find a fitting screw or bolt. Jose knew his wife was even worse. Everything in his life had come to a standstill and Rodrigo’s death was only one of the drops of the already overflowing bucket.
*
Everything seemed hopeless for May Baker’s after she learned her husband had been transported to LA. “How can this shrink say that sending Anthony to LA will do him any good?” May wondered. He must think I’m stupid. She knew it wasn’t the first time prisoners or psychiatric patients were used against their will for medical experiments. With the promise of reducing their punishment, or to be cured, how many more of these vulnerable people would fall for this type of low-hearted deceit?
She’d read about the case of the Duplessis Orphans, in Quebec Canada, a group of more than 5,000 children whose parents handed them over to Catholic orphanages during the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s, promising their children were going to receive a good education. However psychiatrists labeled the children with either a mental illness or claimed they were retarded. Even more shocking was the fact the survivors were barred from taking legal action after the government passed legislation in 2001.
The children were forced to take a new drug called Chlorpromazine, which nowadays is known as Largacil.
“Where am I going to get the money to pay for an attorney who knows the ins and outs of schizophrenia”?
May let the hot water tap run until the plastic bucket was almost filled to the rim. She took the all-purpose cleaner and poured a cap full of the soap into the bucket. Immediately bubbles arose to the top of the bucket, forming a nice thick layer. She had to keep herself busy.
*
The tests at the Delphi Clinic took most of the day. When Martin and Anthony finally returned home, Anthony was exhausted. Without saying a word, he retired to his room. He kicked off his shoes and dropped down on his bed. Images of the day flashed in front of his closed eyes. In the clinic, one of the doctors asked whether he ever hallucinated.
“Like what?” Anthony asked. He had to be careful not to make the same mistake he‘d made during the trail in Dublin.
“Well, do you see bears or lions for example?”
“I’ve seen them in a zoo, if you mean that?”
The doctor ignored him and continued. “I read here in your file you sometimes talk to invisible people. Who are you talking to”?
“I’m talking to myself; I got very lonely in prison.” Anthony couldn’t possibly tell the man about the voices in his head, let alone the horrible things he’d seen. Only a fool believed they were real. He wasn’t mad, but the man in rags kept following him. The weirdest thing about it was, he knew these hallucinations were telling him something. He needed help. One part of him wanted help, but the other part didn’t. It wanted him to stay ill; other people should feel sorry for him. There was a constant fight between the two. Doctors didn’t understand.
“Hm,” was the only reaction from the doctor? Anthony could see the man wasn’t satisfied with the answer.
“In the file, it says you were in a psychiatric institution instead of a prison,” the doctor frowned.
“They locked me up, they didn’t let me go outside, so what‘s the difference?” Anthony wasn’t sure how far he could trust this doctor, although the man appeared genuine, in the end doctors were all the same.
“Well, after what you did, you must count yourself lucky you weren’t sent to prison. You are very fortunate to get a chance like this. Between us,” the doctor leaned over to Anthony and whispered, “They never should have admitted you to St Joseph’s. They should have given you a normal prison sentence. I guess you didn’t like the way the staff treated you there. Did you get much opportunity to see your family?”
At this point, the doctor hit a sensitive cord. Unable to listen any longer, Anthony withdrew back into his own world.
Anthony thoughts drifted off to his wife back home in Ireland, as he lay on his bed in Martin’s house. “I’ve completely forgotten to tell May I was going to America. She’s never been this far from home she’s probably jealous .Maybe I ought to ring her, if I only could remember the number.”
At that moment Martin called from downstairs, “I’m going out; I won’t be back until late.”
*
“Sir, I have some information on the owner of Betox,” one of the officers handed a thick file to Lieutenant Dupree.
“Did you read it, Adams?” Dupree asked. He had no intention to read the bulky file himself.
“Most of it, not everything.”
“Ok, tell me what you know,” Dupree said.
In the office Adams told his superior what he’d discovered. “The owner is Frank Clark. He served as a marine in the Iraqi war in 1991. And the thing is he served in the same battalion as Detective Garnham. Don’t you think that is a coincidence?”
“Are you sure it’s our Garnham and not someone else?” Dupree asked.
“I’m positive, I double checked,” Adams said. “Yeah but that isn’t everything, there was a third man in their group, T. Collins.”
“Well, what do you mean by a T. Collins?”
“Isn’t one of the candidates in the elections named Collins”? Adams asked.
“Find out, will you and find out whether those three still have contact with each other.”
*
Martin Tyler had no idea what time it was whilst a faint light shone through the floorboards of his room. Why he had been instructed to come over to his bosses’ house the previous evening had baffled him; this was something he’d never been asked before.
Upon arriving at the house, Martin was received by the man’s assistant and was taken to a large room three flights up the stairs. As soon as he entered the room, the assistant closed the door and locked it from the outside. All he could do was stay in the room and wait. Astonished by the situation, he checked the windows, but they were tightly sealed. Finally, he settled himself on the bed, which stood in the middle of the room.
The candles, which scarcely lit the room, completely burned down during the night. Pushing the door handle, Martin found it was still locked. For some reason, the boss didn’t want him to leave the room. Turning around, he walked over to a corner where a table and chair stood.
At eight o’clock in the morning he heard a key rotate in the door. He stood up from his chair and hurried to the door. The assistant entered the room with a tray full of food.
“The boss thought you might be hungry.” The man left the door wide open. Martin stared puzzled at him.
“What’s the matter with you, didn’t you sleep last night?” The man smiled at Martin while he put the tray on the table. A greasy grey lock of hair fell across his eyes.
“The boss is ready to receive you whenever you’ve finished your breakfast.”
Martin sat down to slice a piece of the fried bacon. He ate hurriedly. He was practically starving, besides he was dying to find out what his boss had to say.
Immediately after he emptied the plate, he went downstairs. From the hall, he could see a figure sitting in an armchair.
“Come in and close the door,” the figure beckoned. .
When Martin took a seat in the armchair, the man said, “I guess you’d like to know what’s going on. The reason I kept you upstairs was for your own good. I am sorry that I couldn’t talk to you earlier, but I had to organize something first.