by D. L. EVANS
"I see," she said in a voice that was heavy with anger. She skewered him with a hard stare. "So maybe I should stick with Roger Smythe?"
"Of course not. What are you saying?" Mack tensed. The muscle cords in his neck as tight as rebar.
"Well, that's what you're saying, Mack," she snapped back. "After all, he's fit, handsome, he has a superior education, comes from a very respectable family, has connections, money, influence, a good tailor, his own teeth and excellent barber. What else could I want? And maybe if I hook up with him, I might be first lady in Ottawa one day. Ever think of that?"
"Jesus on the cross, he's a jerk and not worthy to wipe your shoes."
"Look Mack, I make decisions on what I think and feel. It's how I make my living for crying out loud. Can't we just see where this leads by being ourselves? Can't you have the confidence in me that I will see who you really are and make up my own mind?"
"I'm just trying to warn you that I'm not one of the crowd you deal with. I'm a cop, and always will be. You always know what to say, kind of a wordsmith. I say whatever I'm thinking without being concerned about consequences And I'm a bit rough around the edges… you know what I mean… Do you think you can deal with that? On the positive side, I can cook, make great coffee and it's obvious that I'm great in bed… "
He was trying very hard. Lauren laughed.
"Get me a drink, I'm thirsty." She ordered.
"I have some cold coffee, still untouched," Mack said without a hint of sarcasm and grinning like a cat.
"Nope," Lauren replied. "I want something old, French and expensive. I'm celebrating us."
"This is how it's going to be, huh?" he asked.
Lauren nodded and laughed her wonderful laugh again.
"Me old mum used to say, 'Start as you mean to go on.' Mack said. He was in heaven. He walked naked into the kitchen, up on his toes, straight to the wine fridge. "Lady, yer lucky I have that covered."
Chapter Fifty-Five
ADAM STONE:
“Adam,” Mack said, “there’s something I have to tell you about your sister and me. Normally, I’d say that it was none of your fucking business but I think you had something to do with it.” It was eight thirty in the morning and I had just set the table with my breakfast when Mack pounded on the door. He definitely looked several inches taller and had a silly smirk on his face.
“Pass the salt. What are you flappin’ on about.” I was almost afraid to ask.
“What am I talkin’ about? You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about. You risked your goddamn life telling her about that closet." I had no comment and continued stirring my coffee preoccupied with reading the morning paper. “You did tell her after I warned you, didn’t you!”
“I don’t remember specifically.” The eggs were delicious. Lauren had scored big time. I couldn’t look him in the eye so I continued reading.
“Shit!” He pulled up a chair and took a sip of my coffee. “This is crap!”
“What are you bitching about?” I lowered the paper. “I can see by the glint in your beady little eyes that things went well last night. Get your own cup.”
“That obvious?” Big grin, squinty eyes, stupid girly dimples.
“You walked in on the balls of your feet, for Chris sake. Might as well wear a sign,” I sighed. “You’re pathetic.” I laughed.
Now he couldn’t look me in the eyes. He cleared his throat. “Our Lauren is a very aggressive woman.” He said.
"'Our Lauren’?" I raised an eyebrow and said, “Spare me please, I’m eating.”
It was Mack’s turn to laugh. He said “Last night, I came in to the living room with a tray of coffee,” he continued, “trying to think of something witty to say. She takes my words away somehow and I can’t speak. Anyway, there she was, leaning back against that closet and she’d already had a look inside. I was speechless. Frozen. Humiliated. I couldn’t move. Didn’t know what to say... Fortunately, I didn’t have to. She just took that tray right out of my hands and grabbed...”
“Please,” I interrupted him putting up my hand. “I can barely taste this food as it is.” He burst out laughing once again. He was enjoying the moment just a little too much. How could I shut him up?
“She’s a very healthy lass, our Lauren, and I was amazing,” he said modestly with a straight face. “Worth waiting for, that’s for sure.”
“I’m leaving.” I said feigning disgust.
“Hey, You live here… and we’re practically family.” He was so full of himself as he cleared the table. “This is it, Adam. I mean it. If she feels the same, this is it! And y’know, she doesn’t even want to take over in the kitchen! We were meant for each other, Adam. Soul mates.”
“I know how to put you in your place you know…" I said. "I’m telling mother. You think Lauren is a handful, wait ‘till you meet the matriarch...” That took the wind out of his sails. He actually looked mortified. Since I seemed to have the upper hand, I continued, “OK. If we’re almost family, take some advice. If you rush her like a goddamn steamroller, she’ll bolt. Don’t sit there and look like you don’t know what I’m talking about either. It’s a little too soon after dropping Roger. Think about it. You could be on the rebound, as hard as it is to say, knowing your ego as far as women are concerned.”
Mack walked over to the window and occupied himself with the view. I had hurt his feelings. I said “Look, I don’t want to rain on your parade, I know how much you’ve been in love with her, but I’m just warning you that even an aggressive woman needs a little sensitivity in matters of the heart.”
“I’m not going to push,” he stated quietly. “This is too important to me. You, of all people, know that, don’t you, Adam?”
“Yah, I’ve had my suspicions. Just let Lauren set the speed, that’s all.”
Mack nodded, flashing his silly dimples. God help us. Nitro and glycerine.
We drove to Harmon Laboratories in his awful car. Reese and three detectives were waiting. As we parked in front and got out, Reese handed Mack a folded paper.
“Here’s the warrant. Harmon is in his office, furious of course. He’s been glaring at us from his office window.” Mack looked at his watch and out over the parking lot.
Annie drove up, on cue and parked her gleaming Porsche beside Mack’s wreck. She looked sensational in a sombre black fitted suit. She could only spare us two hours until she had to leave for her uncle’s funeral.
“Ms Annie Stanford,” Mack said formally, “these are Detectives Reese, Mapplebeck, Lane and Williams. Detective Reese isn’t Homicide, he’s from Fraud. I’m glad you could join us.”
Reese was upset. “May I ask why Ms. Stanford and Mr. Styles are here Detective Mackenzie? This is most irregular. Mr. Harmon will have every right to refuse...”
Mack was annoyed. “Look, I told you that you guys have to go with me on this one. I’m not going to explain things right now but let’s just say that I’ve a feeling that he will not be voicing any complaints when we’re finished. Mack turned to Reese. “You’ve got nothing to loose, just being here, right? And Harmon knows that yer tryin’ to nail him and so far you’re just chasin’ yer tails, right? So, trust me.” He flashed his steely grin that made him look like a carnivore and walked into the front foyer. Annie and I followed. Detective Reese looked at his men, shrugged and followed us.
Harmon waited at the door with his assistant, whom he did not introduce, and snatched the warrant from Mack’s hand before anything was said. Mack did not react but politely asked for the fifty-cent tour. Harmon glared, turned his back and proceeded down the hall. I was relieved that he didn’t insist on identification and force us into our cover story that would explain Annie’s presence. Once again, we followed. Annie walked beside me but looked preoccupied. This was going to be a tough day all ‘round.
About an hour later, we had seen every floor, at least forty labs mostly through heavy glass observation widows that looked identical and hundreds of busy anonymous white-coated people that st
udiously ignored us. None of this wasted time seemed to bother Mack or Annie. The rest of us were restless. Finally, when Harmon indicated that the tour was finished, Mack asked to see the sub-basement. Harmon looked genuinely puzzled. Not the expression of one with something to hide, I thought. Annie and Mack exchanged glances. We took the elevator to the lowest level.
“I don’t know what you hope to find here,” Doctor Harmon said. “These rooms are used for storage, as you can see.” Harmon used the code card and opened the first door and we saw boxes and various pieces of furniture, books, and files nothing relevant. As he proceeded down the hall, he opened every door, some with his card, most without. Annie walked into the last room. It was completely empty, stripped bare to the walls. Harmon looked somewhat surprised, mumbling that he remembered it also having storage equipment in it.
Annie walked around, casually touching the walls. She looked at Bill Harmon. “A man worked here. He had an office with lots of monitors and electronic equipment that he has recently removed. It was a private place. You didn’t know about it. He stripped it a few days ago and he didn’t come into work this morning. He is very religious. You have seriously underestimated him.”
Harmon was shocked. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Annie stared at him without expression. We watched as Harmon’s face went through some sort of metamorphosis. The anger disappeared behind his eyes and his features softened. No one moved or spoke for several seconds. Then Harmon asked his assistant to send for the company prospectus. Once again we stood in silence for several moments. A young man ran down the hall and handed Harmon a slim magazine. Doctor Harmon, now unexplainably compliant and co-operative, opened the prospectus and showed Annie a photograph of Gabriel Smith, head of research and Development. Annie nodded to Mack. We had identified our mysterious accident victim from the past, and our watcher.
Harmon looked at the photo. I thought he was going to have a heart attack on the spot. The colour had drained from his face and his hands shook uncontrollably. “I trusted him,” he muttered. “All these years...” was all he could manage. His assistant rose to the occasion and asked that if we were finished, would we please leave. They had work to do and Mr. Harmon obviously wasn’t well.
Annie, however, wasn’t finished with Harmon. “He had another agenda,” she said to him. “You and your friends have no secrets. He calls himself Zephyr.”
Doctor Bill Harmon was now beyond any reaction. He just stupidly stared at her, unable to move or speak. The assistant took charge and led us to the elevator, through the foyer and out the front door. Harmon, for the moment stayed in the empty room and stared at nothing.
Detective Reese asked Mack, “Now can you tell us what that little performance was about and how it helps our case? What the hell is Zephyr?”
Annie looked at the group and Mack knew that she didn’t want to explain anything to Reese. In fact I thought Annie didn’t look well herself. I put my arm around her and we walked back slowly to her car.
Mack was quite willing to do the talking. “We think this guy, Gabriel Smith, has been spying on Harmon and God knows how many of his clients. Anyone who had security put in by any of the Harmon owned companies was vulnerable. But it may have been much more than that. I’m sorry that the rest of you had to be here but I didn’t know if we would find a place that was disguised to look like just another control room... Should have known this human receiver would know we were coming, eventually. The tape of Richard Stanford’s death would eventually lead us here, he knew that when he sent it.” Mack turned to Reese. “You’ll just have to be patient a little longer, Chuck, me boy. It’s all coming together. The spy had to be someone on the inside... like you said. And, if you want this case on a plate, I would rather you didn’t mention in your report that Adam and Ms. Stanford were here. As soon as we get this bloke, now that we know who he is, you’ll have your answers.”
“I still need to know...” Reese began.
“You will! You will know everything, but not now. Be satisfied that we at least know who we’re after. When we get him, it’ll tie a lot of loose ends together. He’s had quite a run, our Gabriel.” Mack said.
“And what, pray tell,” Reese bristled, “do we report happened in that room? I’m not even sure I know myself. Are you going to explain what happened with Ms. Stanford?”
I returned from the parking lot in time to interject, “No he isn’t! And as for your report, make something up and agree on it between you. Harmon and his lawyers will not be in a position to do anything when we get this guy. Besides, you saw what kind of shape he’s in... likely to have a breakdown. His little poker house of cards is about to fall and all you have to do is take the bow and keep us out of it.” They stared at us in disbelief but I felt we were safe for the moment.
Chapter Fifty-Six
ADAM STONE:
The funeral for Richard Stanford took most of the afternoon. Hundreds of mourners packed the Anglican Church on St. Clair Street and blocked traffic for a few hours as the procession wound its way to the final resting place, a graveyard just outside the city. It was a big enough event to make the news. Mack and I did not attend. We figured the old boy would have vetoed our invitation anyway if he could have had a say. Both of us were anxious to discuss Annie’s interpretation of the morning’s experience in the empty storage room at Harmon Labs.
Annie asked to meet with us after the graveside service when Alison would be occupied as hostess to the hordes of relatives planning to meet back at the Stanford mansion. I wondered how much she had confided to Alison. Mack decided the only place we could be sure was not bugged was his car so we met in an empty parking lot on the Lakeshore. Unfortunately, Mack’s wreck was the only one with enough seating for us to talk so I crawled into the back seat and Annie got in beside Mack.
When we were all relatively comfortable, she started, “I’m going to tell you a few things that will be a stretch to believe but I want you to go along with it, unconditionally,” she stated simply.
“Why?” Mack asked. “You think we’re going to have trouble catching this guy now that we know who he is?”
Annie took a deep breath. “That’s not it,” she said flatly. “First, you owe me.” I had to smile to myself. She may be on the reserved and quiet side but the lady wasn’t going to take any crap from Mack. “Second, this man, Gabriel Smith thinks he really is an angel, sent to do God’s work. That room... was filled with such... He has killed, Mack. He’s carefully planned and executed... murdered many, many people. People he judged as evil. I want you to suspend any suspicions you have about me for one day... so I can help you, Mack. Help you with a mass murderer on a scale you can not yet imagine.”
“Fuck.” Mack hissed. “Mass murderer, OK. OK. So the guy’s nuts. Can’t you just tell us where he is and leave it at that? Let me do my job?”
I was watching her expression in the rear-view mirror. She shook her head slightly and looked down at her hands. I knew she wasn’t getting through Mack’s ego. “There’s more,” I offered, “isn’t there. What aren’t you saying, Annie?”
“Please listen, both of you.” Annie pleaded. “Mack, you can’t catch him. With the whole police force, you couldn’t catch him. If he was in the next room to you, you couldn’t catch him. That’s what I’m trying to tell you!”
Mack exploded, “What are you talkin’ about. You underestimate me considerably for one thing lady. What is he, fucking invisible?”
“No, Mack... but he can make you think that he is... Listen. There’s a lot to tell you and not much time. His plans are set and he’s about to move. If he does, I won’t be able to stop him,” she said.
“Go on, Annie. We’re listening,” I said. Mack glared at me over his shoulder.
She stared out the front window, composing herself. “I think he’s planning to murder four men. So much of what I felt in that room is ... vague, distant. It would take too long to try and explain the limits of my abilities, but, well here goes. I saw the
four men that Detective Reese is investigating very clearly. They’re on Gabriel’s mind too. Two of them are Harmon himself and Roger Smythe.”
Mack looked like she had slapped him.
She said “It’s OK Mack, I’m used to dealing with ‘confidential’ information. I know that they’ve been stealing big time, something to do with a satellite, and Gabriel Smith has been blackmailing them. Harmon didn’t know who it was but he does now because I told him the code name Gabriel Smith used, Zephyr. They’ll make a run for it now, and maybe throw Gabriel’s plans for the moment. They don’t know that they can’t hide from him, once he’s centred in on their energy. Gabe has re-directed millions of dollars and now he feels he can finish them.”
“He sees himself as a good guy? I asked. “How does he justify blackmail?”