Cook,Robin - Mortal Fear.txt

by Mortal Fear (lit)

  box.

  Feeling the surface, Jason immediately encountered a hinged metal ring.

  Giving it a slight tug, Jason opened the box.

  Inside was the service panel for the house. Slowly he reached inside,

  hoping he was not about to touch a live wire. Instead, his fingers

  touched the low row of circuit breaker switches.

  For the next five minutes Jason thought about how to make use of his

  discovery. Getting off the bench, he opened the door to the cabinet

  underneath and removed its contents, storing the cans in the two side

  cabinets. Then he removed the single shelf, which luckily was not nailed

  down, and climbed in. He had plenty of room.

  He got out, climbed back on the workbench and, one by one, threw all the

  circuit breakers. Then he closed the service panel, scrambled into the

  empty cabinet, pulled the door shut behind him, and prayed. If they'd

  already gone to bed, the lack of power wouldn't bother them.

  After what Jason guessed was another five minutes, he heard a door

  opening.

  Then he heard voices, and through a crack in the cabinet door saw a line

  of flickering light. Then there was the sound of a key in the entrance

  door and it swung open. His eye to the crack, he could plainly see two

  figures. One was holding a flashlight which slowly swung around the

  room.

  "He's hiding," said Juan.

  "I don't need you to tell me that," said Shirley with imitation.

  "Where is your fuse box?" asked Juan.

  The flashlight swung around above the workbench.

  "You stay here," said Juan. He started into the room, coming between

  Jason and the light which Shirley must have been holding. Jason

  suspected Juan's hands were busy with his gun.

  Jason leaned against the back wall of the cabinet and lifted his feet.

  As soon as he heard the circuit breakers being turned back on, Jason

  kicked the cabinet doors with all the force and power his runner's legs

  could muster. The doors caught Juan Diaz entirely by surprise, hitting

  him in the groin. He gasped with pain and staggered back against the

  cedar closet.

  Jason lost no time. He crawled out and raced across the room, catching

  the door before Shirley had a chance to close it. He hit it with full

  force, running directly into Shirley and knocking the two of them onto

  the floor.

  Shirley cried as her head hit the concrete. The flashlight rolled out of

  her hand.

  Scrambling to his feet, Jason raced down the hallway toward the stairs,

  thankful that this area of the house again had lights. He grabbed the

  banister and used it to catapult himself up, the first steps. That was

  when he heard the dull pop. Simultaneously he felt a pain in his thigh

  and his right leg crumbled beneath him. Pulling himself upright, he

  hopped up the rest of the stairs. He was almost at the foyer; he could

  not give up.

  His right leg dragging, Jason struggled over to the front door. Below,

  he heard someone start up the stairs.

  The dead bolt opened and Jason stumbled out into the raw November night.

  He knew he'd been shot. He could feel the blood from his bullet wound

  running down his leg into his shoe.

  Jason only got as far as the center of the driveway when Juan caught up

  to him and knocked him to the cobblestones with the butt of his pistol.

  Jason fell to his hands and knees. Before he could rise, Juan kicked him

  over onto his back. Once again, the pistol was pointed directly at

  Jason's head.

  Suddenly, both men were bathed in brilliant light. Keeping the gun on

  Jason, Juan tried to shield his eyes from the glare of two high-beam

  headlights. A second later, there was the sound of car doors opening,

  followed by the ominous sound of shotguns being cocked. Juan backed up

  several steps like a cornered animal.

  "Hold it, Diaz," called a voice unfamiliar to Jason. It was thick with a

  South Boston accent. "Don't do anything stupid. We don't want trouble

  with you or Miami. All we want you to do is walk to your car nice and

  easy and leave. Can you do that?"

  Juan nodded. His left hand was still vainly trying to shield his eyes

  from the light.

  "Then do it!" commanded the voice.

  After t~king two or three uncertain steps backward, Juan turned and fled

  to his car. He started the engine, gunned it, then roared out of the

  driveway., lawn rolledonto his stomach. As soon as Juan left, Carol

  Donner ran out of the circle of light and dropped to her knees in front

  of him.

  "My God, you're hurt!" A large bloodstain had formed on Jason's thigh.

  "I suppose," said Jason vaguely. Too much had happened too quickly. "But

  it doesn't hurt too much," he added.

  Another figure emerged from the glare; Bruno came up hefting a

  pump-action Winchester shotgun.

  "Oh, no!" said Jason, trying to sit up.

  "Don't worry," said Carol. "He knows you're a friend' now."

  At that moment, Shirley appeared on her front porch. Her clothing was

  disheveled and her hair spiked up like a punk rocker. For a second, she

  took in the scene. Then she stepped back and slammed the door. Locks

  were heard being engaged.

  "We have to get him to a hospital," said Carol, pointing to Jason.

  A second body-builder appeared. Gingerly they picked Jason up.

  "I don't believe this," said Jason.

  Jason found himself carried behind the glare of the lights. The vehicle

  turned out to be- a white stretch Lincoln with a "V"-shaped TV antenna

  on the rear deck. The two muscle men eased Jason into the back seat

  where a man with dark glasses, slicked-back hair, and an unlit cigar was

  waiting. It was Arthur Koehler, Carol's boss. Carol jumped in after

  Jason and introduced him to Arthur. The muscle men got in the front seat

  and started the limo.

  "Am I glad to see you two," said Jason. "But what in God's name brought

  you here?" Jason winced as the car bumped out of the driveway.

  "Your voice," explained Carol. "That last time you called, I knew you

  were in trouble again."

  "But how did you know I was here in Brookline?"

  "Bruno followed you, " said Carol. "After you called, I called my

  lovable boss here." Carol slapped Arthur's leg.

  Arthur said, "Cut it out!" It had been his voice that had terrified Juan

  Diaz.

  "I asked Arthur if he would protect you and he said he would under one

  condition. I have to dance for at least another two months or until he

  finds a ieplac ent. 11 "Yea , but she got me down to one month,"

  complained A I ur.

  "I'm very *ateful said Jason. "Are you really going to stop dancing,

  Carol?"

  "She's a god4cialun brat," said Arthur.

  "I'm amazed," said Jason. "I didn't think girls like you could stop

  whenever you wanted."

  "What are you talking about?" asked Carol indignantly.

  "I'll tell you what he means," laughed Arthur, reaching forward and

  returning Carol's slap on the thigh. "He thinks you're a goddamn

  hooker."

  Arthur collapsed into paroxysms of laughter that changed to coughing.

  Carol had to pound hi
m on the back several times before he got control

  of himself. "I used to have more fits like that when I lit these

  things," said Arthur, holding up his cigar. Then he looked at Jason in

  the half-light of the car. "You think I would have let her go to Seattle

  if she were a prostitute? Be reasonable, man."

  "I'm sorry.," Jason said. "I just thought ..

  "You thought because I was dancing at the club I was a hooker," said

  Carol with somewhat less indignation. "Well, I suppose that's not

  entirely unfair. A couple of them are. But most aren't. For me, it was a

  great opportunity. My family name isn't Donner. It's Kikonen. We're

  Finnish and we've always had a healthier attitude to nudity than you

  Americans."

  "And she's my wife's sister's kid," said Arthur. "So I gave her a job."

  "You two are related?" asked Jason, amazed.

  "We don't like to admit it," said Arthur, starting to laugh again.

  "Come on," Carol said.

  But Arthur continued, saying, "We hate the idea of any of our people

  going to Harvard. It hurts our image."

  "You're going to Harvard?" asked Jason, turning to Carol.

  "For my doctorate. The dancing covers my tuition."

  "I guess I should have known Alvin would never have lived with your

  average, exotic dancer," said Jason. "In any case, I'm grateful to you

  both. God knows what would have happened if you hadn't come along. I

  know the police will take care of Shirley Montgomery, but I wish you

  hadn't let Juan go.

  " Don't worr. y said Arthur with a wave of his cigar. "Carol told me

  what happened in Seattle. He won't be around for long. But I don't want

  trouble with my people in Miami. We'll deal with Juan through channels

  or I can give you enough information for the Miami police to pick him

  up. They'll have enough stuff on him down there to put him away. Believe

  me."

  Jason looked at Carol. "I don't know how I can make it up to you."

  "I have a few ideas," she said brightly.

  Arthur had another laughing fit. When he was finally under control,

  Bruno lowered the glass to the front compartment.

  "Hey, pervert," he called with a chuckle. "Where do you want us to take

  you? GHP emergency?"

  "Hell,-no," said Jason. "For the moment, I'm a little down on prepaid

  health care. Take me to Mass General."

  EPILOGUE

  Jason had never enjoyed ill health, as the saying goes, but currently he

  was loving it. He'd been hospitalized for three days following surgery

  on the wound in his leg. The pain had lessened significantly and the

  nursing staff at General was superbly competent and attentive. Several

  of them even remembered Jason as a resident.

  But the best part of his hospitalization was that Carol spent most of

  each day with him, reading out loud, regaling him with funny stories, or

  just sitting in companionable silence.

  "When you're all better," she said on the second day as she rearranged

  flowers that had come from Claudia and Sally, "I think we should go back

  to the Salmon Inn."

  rth for?" Jason said. After their experience, he couldn't

  imagine wanting to revisit the place.

  "I'd like to try Devil's Chute again," Carol said cheerfully. "But this

  time in daylight."

  "You're kidding!"

  "Really. I bet it's a gas when the sun's shining." A soft cough made

  them turn to the doorway. Detective Curran's disheveled bulk looked

  distinctly out of place in the hospital. His large hands were clutching

  a khaki rain hat that looked as if it had been run over by a truck.

  "I hope I'm not bothering you, Dr. Howard," he said with

  uncharacteristic politeness.

  Jason guessed that Curran was as intimidated by the hospital as Jason

  had been by the police station.

  "Not at all," Jason said, 'pushing himself up to a sitting position.

  "Come in. Sit down."

  Carol pulled a chair away from the wall and positioned it next to the

  bed.

  Curtan lowered himself into it, still clutching the hat.

  "How's the leg coming?" he asked.

  "Fine," Jason said. "Mostly muscle injury. Not going to be a problem at

  all."

  "I'm glad."

  "Candy?" Carol asked, extending a box of chocolates that the GHP

  secretaries had sent.

  Curran examined them carefully, chose a chocolate-covered cherry, and

  plopped it whole into his mouth. Swallowing, he said, "I thought you'd

  like to know how the. case is developing."

  "Absolutely," Jason said. Carol went around to the other side of the bed

  and sat on the edge.

  "First of all, they picked Juan up in Miami. He has a sheet a mile long.

  You name it. He's one of Castro's gifts to America. We're going to try

  to get him extra- dited to Massachusetts for Brennquivist's and Lund's

  murders, but it'll be tough. Seems four or five other states want the

  creep for similar capers, including Florida."

  "Can't say I feel very sorry for him," Jason said.

  "The guy's a psychopath," Curran agreed.

  "What about GHP?" Jason asked. "Have you been able to prove that the

  releasing factor for the death gene was introduced into the eyedrops

  used by the ophthalmological office?"

  "We're working closely with the DA's office on it," Curran said. "It's

  turning out to be quite a story."

  "How much do you feel will be made public?"

  "At this point we aren't certain. Some will have to come out. The

  Hartford School's closed and the parents of those kids aren't blind.

  Furthermore, as the DA points Out,. there's a slew of local families

  with million-dollar lawsuits to file against the GHP. Shirley and her

  crew are finished."

  "Shirley ..." Jason said wistfully. "You know, there was a time, if I

  hadn't met Carol, I might have gotten involved with the lady."

  Carol shook a playful fist at him.

  "I guess I owe you an apology, doctor," Curran said. "At first I thought

  you were just a pain in the ass. But it turns out you're responsible for

  busting the deadliest conspiracy I've ever heard of."

  "It was mostly luck," Jason said. "If I hadn't been with Hayes the night

  he died, we doctors would have thought we were battling some new

  epidemic."

  "This guy Hayes must have been a smart cookie," Curran said.

  "A genius," Carol said.

  "You know what bugs me the most)" Curran said. "Until the end Hayes

  thought he was working on a discovery to help mankind. Probably thought

  he'd be a hero, like Salk. Nobel prizes and all that. Save the world.

  I'm not a scientist, but it seems to me Hayes's whole field of research

  is pretty damned scary. You know what I mean?"

  "I know exactly what you mean," Jason said. "Medical science has always

  assumed its research would save lives and reduce suffering. But now science, has awesome potential. Things can go either way."

  "As I understand it," Curran said, "Hayes found a drug that makes people

  age and die in a couple of weeks-and he wasn't even looking for it.

  Makes me think you eggheads are out of control. Am I wrong?"

  "I agree," Jason said. "Maybe we're getting too smart for our own good.


  It's like eating the forbidden fruit all over again."

  "Yeah, and we're going to get kicked right out of paradise," Curran

  added. "Incidentally, doesn't Uncle Sam have watchdogs overseeing guys

  like Hayes?"

  "They don't have a very good record on this sort of thing," Jason

  explained. "Too many conflicts of interest. Besides, both doctors and

  laymen tend to believe all medical research is inherently good."

  Wonderful," snorted Curran. "It's like a car barreling down the freeway

  at a hundred miles an hour with no driver."

  " That's probably the best analogy I've ever heard," Jason said.

  "Oh, well." The detective shrugged his huge shoulders. "At least we can

  deal with GHP. Formal indictments are coming down soon. Of course, the

  whole pack is out on bail. But the case has broken wide open, with all

  the principals stabbing each other in the back and trying to plea

  bargain.

  Seems that friend Hayes originally approached some guy by the name of

  Ingelbrook."

  "Ingelnook. He's one of the GHP vice presidents," Jason said. "I think