by Nancy Skopin
When Catherine regained consciousness she was lying on her living room floor. Her head felt too heavy to lift and there was a burning sensation at the nape of her neck. She heard a noise coming from the hallway and her heart raced as she realized she wasn’t alone. When she tried to sit up, she noticed for the first time that her hands were tied behind her back. It was a struggle, but she managed to curl forward into a sitting position and support herself against the sofa.
A crash came from the direction of her bedroom, and her fuzzy brain rallied enough for her to grasp that she had to get out of the apartment before whoever was in the bedroom came back. Her legs were not bound, so she was able to stand and walk, although when she stood up she felt extremely dizzy. She sat down on the couch and leaned forward over her knees.
Her purse was on the coffee table in front of her, emptied of its contents. She wondered what he was looking for. Catherine assumed it was a man searching her apartment, because she weighed a hundred and sixty pounds and someone had carried her in from the front stoop. She remembered the sharp pain she’d felt as she opened the outer door. He’d probably used a taser. That would explain the burning sensation and the headache.
Catherine stood again, this time more steadily. She moved toward the front door as quietly as possible. When she reached the door she turned her back to it, grasping the knob with both hands. It turned easily and the door began to open. Catherine realized too late that the chain lock was on, and the door jerked to a stop, rattling the chain. The noise seemed overly loud in her head. She quickly inserted her foot into the opening so that the door wouldn’t close, but there was no mistaking the footsteps pounding on the hardwood floor of the hallway. She had only seconds to get the chain off.
She leaned forward and grasped the ball end of the chain between her teeth, carefully sliding it to the inside aperture. After a slight jiggle the lock disengaged and she was able to push the door open the rest of the way with her foot. Turning her head slightly as she pushed her way out the door, she saw the taser just before it connected with her shoulder.
When Catherine woke up again she was tied to the brass bed-frame. She knew as soon as she opened her eyes what was coming. The man sitting on the bed watching her was not wearing a mask, but he was wearing surgical gloves. He didn’t care if she could identify him. He was going to kill her.
Just in case she survived, Catherine decided to take a good look at his face. As her vision began to clear she recognized the man looking down at her. She gasped in confusion. “Oh my God,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
CHAPTER 20
BILL WAS ONBOARD THE BOAT when Buddy and I arrived home, stretched out on the main salon settee, his eyes half-closed. They popped open when I pushed his feet out of the way so I could sit down next to him, while Buddy enthusiastically licked his face.
“I thought you were working late,” I said.
He smiled, wrapped an arm gently around my injured shoulder, and kissed my forehead. “Where’s Cliff?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to answer, then stopped myself and pulled the bug detector out of my purse. I gave the boat a good going over. Then I got two Guinness Stouts out of the fridge, and rejoined him in the main salon.
“He’s at Susan’s house. Jim is with him.”
I popped a pain pill and washed it down with a long swig of Guinness. The psychological impact was immediate. I felt more relaxed, and even slightly more optimistic.
“I think I may be in trouble,” I said. “Someone appears to be knocking off the students who were in Matzek’s study group. The patent held by Batcom on his process has expired, which means anybody can potentially develop the cold fusion process he invented.” I took a breath and another sip of Guinness.
Bill looked puzzled. “If anyone can develop it now, why kill Matzek’s students?”
“Because they’re the only ones outside of Batcom who know how the process works. I’m meeting with Cliff’s father in the morning.”
“Are you going to tell him who you really are?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And why Cliff hired you in the first place?”
“Technically, I need Cliff’s permission to talk to his parents, but I’m afraid he’ll ask me not to. I’m pretty sure his life is in danger, and his dad might be able to help. Jack thinks he’s a spook.”
“Slow down a minute.” Bill put his hands on my shoulders and I winced. “Sorry. Why aren’t you wearing your sling?” I dug the sling out of my purse and put it on. “Are you saying you think the government is involved in this?” he asked.
“Cliff wrote to his mom about the study group, and I’m guessing she told his dad. His dad probably mentioned it to someone at work. Matzek supposedly committed suicide three months ago, and now three of the kids who were in his study group are dead. What do you think?”
“I think you need a good night’s sleep. Cliff is safe for the moment. Why don’t you just relax?”
He started rubbing slow circles on my upper back and the next thing I knew I was being tucked into bed. Bill climbed in next to me and I woke up enough to roll onto my side and wrap one leg around his solid body, then I drifted off again.
The Guinness woke me up at 5:30 in the morning. I shuffled to the head to relieve myself and brush my teeth, then stumbled into the galley and started the coffee. I took two pain pills and went back to bed. For once I was awake before Bill snuck off to work. We tumbled around on the bunk like a couple of love-starved teenagers while the coffee dripped into the pot. This wreaked havoc with my neck and shoulder, but I was still smiling when I left for Hillsborough at 7:30.
CHAPTER 21
I ARRIVED AT THE ESTATE ten minutes before the appointed time, and Clifford Montgomery Senior greeted me at the front door. I considered what he must have done to keep Mrs. Peterson from answering. Hog-tying her and stuffing her into a closet came to mind. Because of the solemnity of the occasion, I resisted the urge to smirk at that image.
He had dark circles under his eyes and his complexion was sallow. His posture, however, was as rigid as ever. He escorted me into his study, closed the door, and seated himself on a straight-backed chair across from the sofa.
“Coffee?” he asked, indicating a tray on the table.
“Thank you,” I said. “Cream, no sugar.”
I looked around the office and then awkwardly dragged another straight-backed chair over next to the coffee table. I wasn’t going to sink into that cushy leather sofa. It would put me below Cliff Senior’s eye level, not to mention the fact that my ability to get up and move would be hampered. I had no idea what to expect from this encounter and I wasn’t taking any chances.
I let him pour the coffee and added the milk myself from a small pitcher. I sat on the edge of my chair and watched him pour his own coffee. Black, two sugars. Typical government employee, I thought, still in denial about the health risks of using sugar. I know, I smoke, but I’m human and therefore prone to hypocrisy.
I waited for Cliff Senior to drink before taking a sip of my coffee. I also waited for him to begin the conversation. In a situation like this I find a little tension gives me the upper hand, but he said nothing. I set down my empty cup.
“I assume you already know I’m not an interior decorator,” I began.
He nodded.
“Had me checked out that first day?”
He nodded again.
“What branch of the government do you work for, Mr. Montgomery?”
He hesitated just a beat. “I’m retired, Ms. Hunter. I used to be a diplomatic courier of sorts,” he said. “I conveyed political messages between our government and the governments of other nations.”
I poured myself a second cup. It tasted like French roast mixed with a dark Colombian. I love good coffee.
“You and I both know that’s bullshit,” I said quietly. “Judging by the bags under your eyes, I’m guessing you’re aware that your son’s life may be in danger. So why don’t we cut the crap?”
Clifford Montgomery Senior raised one eyebrow and smiled thinly. “Are you taping this conversation, Ms. Hunter?”
“It would be illegal for me to tape our conversation without your consent.”
“Please be kind enough to turn off your recorder.”
I pulled my mini cassette recorder out of my purse and pressed the record button, then placed the recorder back in my purse. I hadn’t planned to tape the conversation, but since he was giving me the opportunity, I might as well. Mom always told me never to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Better?” I asked.
“Much,” he replied.
“Now that we’re alone,” I began again. “Exactly what branch of the government did you work for?”
“You haven’t heard of it,” he said, with a sigh.
Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “When Cliff wrote to your wife about the private study group with Matzek, she mentioned the contents of that letter to you, didn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“And you mentioned the study group to one of your associates?”
He nodded. “I’m afraid I did,” he said. “Casually. You have no idea how much I regret that error in judgment.”
His mask dropped momentarily and I caught a glimpse of the man who realized he might lose his only child because of his own foolishness.
“Are you aware that the other students in Matzek’s study group are being executed?”
“Yes, Ms. Hunter,” he said, with a grimace. “I am painfully aware of what is happening. Unfortunately, the situation is beyond my control.”
“Is that why you opted for early retirement? What about Cliff?” I had to know how far this had gone. “Are they planning to kill Cliff?”
“Thanks to your meddling, that has become a possibility. Prior to Cliff hiring you, they seemed content to simply drive him into psychiatric care, but now, I’m afraid they think it’s gone too far.”
“Suppose I get him out of the country?” I asked.
“They’d find him.” He looked defeated.
“Because of that chip in his neck?” I asked.
Both eyebrows shot up this time. “How did you find out about that?”
“X-rays,” I said. “It’s some kind of receiver isn’t it?”
“That’s part of what it does, yes.”
“Wait a minute. What else does it do?”
He sighed again and his posture sagged slightly. “It also transmits,” he said.
“Oh shit! I have to go.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that the shadow under Cliff’s ear could be emitting a locator signal. I’d simply assumed it was receiving input from the microwave transmitter that had been directed at his bedroom. I remembered how the bug detector had vibrated when I’d gotten close to the bookshelves in Cliff’s bedroom, where he was standing. I am such an idiot!
I snatched up my purse and ran for the door. I sprinted the length of the driveway to the BMW, started it up, and floored it. Once I was on the freeway I turned off the tape recorder, dug my cell phone out of my purse, and called Susan.
“Hi, Nikki,” she answered, in her smoky, melodic voice.
“Hi, Susan. Listen, I have to talk fast. Cliff’s got some kind of chip under his left ear that’s transmitting a signal to whoever’s trying to find him, and I think they plan to kill him. I’m on my way. Lock all the doors and windows, and wrap some tin foil around his neck.”
“Is this a joke?” she asked.
“I wish.”
“Tin foil?”
“Unless you’ve got a lead muffler he can wear.”
“Okay.”
When I arrived, I pulled into the driveway next to Lily’s van and jumped out of my car. I was moving toward the front of the house when the garage door started opening and Lily stuck her head out. “He’s in here,” she stage-whispered.
I entered the garage and she lowered the door behind me. Cliff was seated on a stool in the back of the garage, holding a greeting card sized piece of gray metal under his left ear. I turned to Lily, who smiled cheerfully.
“Lead muffler,” she said.
I collapsed onto her desk chair and allowed myself to laugh hysterically for about thirty seconds before refocusing my attention. The bad guys probably already knew where Cliff was. We had to move fast.
“Have you got an X-acto knife or a razor blade?” I asked.
Lily produced both and I opted for the X-acto knife. I dug my bottle of pain meds out of my purse and held out two of the remaining pills to Cliff.
“Swallow these,” I ordered.
He put down the small sheet of lead and accepted the pills. “What are they?”
“Pain pills. Just take them, Cliff. There’s no time to argue.”
He popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed them dry. He grimaced, then retrieved the sheet of metal.
“Okay,” he said. “Why am I taking pain pills? My neck’s much better.”
“Because I’m about to make it worse.”
I got out my cigarette lighter and held the flame against the blade of the knife. Cliff’s eyes got very large and his mouth opened silently. I handed the X-acto knife to Lily and fished the X-ray copy out of my purse. I held it up next to Cliff’s head and located the shadow. Lily looked over my shoulder. Actually she looked over the top of my head. Lily’s over six feet tall and I’m only five-seven.
“What are we going to do here?” she asked.
Lily is always calm in a crisis, so I had no qualms about including her.
“A chip-ectomy,” I said.
Cliff jumped up and backed away from me, still holding the sheet of lead under his ear.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, his face turning white.
“Cliff, try to relax, please,” I said. “Someone has implanted a tiny silicon chip in your neck. Three or more of your classmates from the study group at Berkeley have recently died. I think you may be next. The chip acts as a receiver as well as a transmitter. There’s a good chance it caused the car accident, among other things. We need to get it out of your neck. Now.”
He stared at me for a long moment and I was afraid he was going to burst into tears, or maybe pass out. Then he slowly shuffled over to where I was standing and gazed at the X-ray copy for a full minute. He looked at me, and then at Lily. “I don‘t understand,” he said.
“I know you don’t, and I’m sorry there isn’t more time to explain it to you, but we really need to get that thing out of your neck and get you out of here. We can talk about this later. Please sit down and hold very still.”
After a moment’s hesitation Cliff sat in Lily’s desk chair. I turned his head so the sun was shining through the window onto his neck. Lily handed me the X-acto. I took the knife and she held the X-ray up at my eye level next to Cliff’s head. I felt along Cliff’s jaw with my fingertips, hoping the chip was close to the surface. It was so tiny I almost missed it. Not much larger than a pencil eraser, but flat. I squeezed it gently between my fingers and said, “Hold your breath,” before making the incision.
Cliff winced without actually moving much. I peeled the skin back and popped out the tiny silicon culprit. I handed it to Lily, and she gave me a paper towel soaked in rubbing alcohol. I swabbed Cliff’s neck and he yelped.
“Good boy,” I said. “Hold this against your neck and put your head between your knees.”
He gave me a dirty look, but did as I asked. I didn’t need him fainting on me. Dead weight is very difficult to move and there was no time to spare. I scrounged around in the bottom of my purse until I found a Band-Aid, which I applied to Cliff’s neck.
“I thought it was an insect bite,” he said.
“What?”
“The bump on my neck. I thought it was a bite.”
I took a moment to wonder how the silicon intruder had been inserted into Cliff’s neck without his knowledge, then decided I had more important things to worry about. On the other side of the shop, Lily was looking a
t the chip under a microscope.
“Come here, Nikki,” she said quietly.
Cliff looked down at the bloody paper towel in his hand and started turning green at the sight of his own blood. I gently pushed his head back down between his knees.
“Breathe,” I said.
When I was sure he wasn’t going to pass out or throw up I joined Lily and had a look through the eyepiece. What I saw was an extremely intricate microchip. It looked like the inside of my DVD player, only with more circuit traces. I picked up the tiny chip, wrapped it in the soft sheet of lead Cliff had been holding against his neck, and tucked it in my pocket. Then I had a thought.
“Cliff, are you carrying a cell phone?”
He produced one from his pocket. I snatched it out of his hand, removed the sim card, then took one of Lily’s hammers and smashed the shit out of both the phone and the sim card. Cliff’s mouth was hanging open again.
“Better safe than sorry,” I said to Cliff. “Thank you, Lily.” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss her cheek. “We need to go. I probably won’t be in touch for a while. Apologize to Susan for me?”
“No need,” she said. “Susan loves intrigue. She’s sitting in the living room with the Remington in her lap.”
I collected Cliff and we slipped out the garage door and into the BMW. I drove straight to the Palo Alto Caltrain station and parked in the lot.
“Are we taking the train?” Cliff asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. “There should be a roll of black electrical tape in the glovebox. Will you see if you can find it, please?”
Cliff opened the glove compartment and shuffled things around for a minute, then handed me the roll of tape.
“Thanks. Lock the car behind me,” I said, making eye contact to be sure I had his attention. “I’ll be right back.”
Cliff looked bewildered, but pushed down the locks dutifully. I jogged into the station and checked the schedule. A train going to San Francisco was due in five minutes. I waited. The train was two minutes late. I took the chip from my pocket, removed it from the protective sheet of metal and wrapped it in a piece of tape, then boarded the train. I found a bench that was unoccupied and taped the chip securely under the seat, then jumped off the train just as it started moving out of the station. I jogged back to the car, and Cliff.