by C R Trolson
She sat beside him and told him all about Winston Waverly and why Ajax had been kicked off the board of directors. She looked worn out, but still beautiful. He tried to kiss her. She moved her lips to his forehead. “Easy does it, hot rod,” she told him. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
He settled back into the bed. “Why didn’t Waverley have Ajax committed?”
“Cirrus was going under financially. Having their CEO declared insane would have buried them. So, Ajax became a functioning lunatic.”
“Was he as old as we thought?”
“Waverley didn’t seem to think so,” she said. “And now it doesn’t matter. Ajax couldn’t have used Cirrus to spread LX. Ajax had no power in the company. He was little more than a spokesman. A figure head. His only official duty was convincing the governor to help relax import and export duties and tariffs. Ajax saw huge opportunities in China and India.”
“Did Waverly know about LX?”
“I don’t think he knows about anything. Nor is he interested in finding out. Nothing about all the people Ajax had killed. He was blissfully ignorant. All he knows is that Ajax died of a heart attack and had nothing to do with a lot of dead people.”
“How much LX got out?” he asked.
“It’s not as bad as we thought,” she said and arranged the covers on the bed. “Waverley let me talk to the Cirrus’ distribution centers. I called ten. From LA to New York City. Nothing. I’m not saying that Ajax couldn’t have used Cirrus Industries to spread the virus. I’m saying that he didn’t.”
“You believed them?” Reese took her hands. “You told me he bragged about sending a box of vials to the Red Cross in Romania. We have to check. We have to make damn sure.” He saw the pain on her face, realized he was squeezing too hard, and let go.
“Calm down,” she said and massaged his forearm. “With Waverly’s help - he introduced me as his quality control officer - I spoke with Red Cross’ top distribution agents. I explained that I suspected some AIDs tainted blood preservative might have inadvertently been shipped to them. I described the vials. The box. It took them thirty minutes but they called back and said they had seen nothing like it.”
“Did you tell them to keep an eye out for future shipments? Watch for anything suspicious? Something already in the mail?”
“Yes, I took care of it. I also called Unicorn Labs. Waverley got the manager on the phone and told him to cooperate with me. He’d been called by some crazy homicide cop,” she raised her eyebrows, “but never received a box of vials from Ajax.”
“And if he had?”
“The manager would have done anything Ajax asked, is my guess. He kept going on about how the country had just lost a great man. You see, the people at Unicorn didn’t know that Ajax had gone around the bend and was no longer in control of Cirrus. And that was Ajax’s plan. He wasn’t going to spread the virus through Cirrus Industries, the head people at the distribution centers knew that he was merely the company spokesman. He was going to use Unicorn. They’d think the blood additive was coming straight from Cirrus. Then it would be too late.”
“The bag of blood that wound up in Pine Creek?”
“I asked Unicorn’s manager about that,” she said. “He was aware of discrepancies, but swore they’d been contained. Between the lines he was saying a mistake had been covered up.”
“Four dead a mistake?”
“My guess is he’s going to cover his ass. My guess is that somehow Ajax was able to get one unit of blood through Unicorn. It was a test, and it worked.”
“The box of vials?”
“After Waverly left, I spent twenty minutes looking through the brush until I found it. I put a handful of vials at a time into the kitchen sink with the water running. The garbage disposal took care of the glass.” She absently scratched at her leg. “I’ll probably get a hell of a case of poison oak.”
“I’ll help you scratch,” he said. “We’re lucky the delivery guy was late,” he said. “He kept bragging he was still inside his six hour pick-up window. Could there have been any other boxes? You’re sure? It’s a big house.”
“I looked everywhere that counted,” she said. “Ajax had a world class laboratory. Waverly showed it to me. Blood fractionators. Micro plate dispensers, incubators, photometers, spectral scanning, toxicity. Waverly put the equipment cost alone at five million, set up to do everything from cancer research to drug development.”
“But?”
“Except for a blood plasma separator, the equipment had never been used. The calibration labels hadn’t even been removed. Most of it was in showroom condition.”
He thought a second. “Where did Ajax make LX?”
“He didn’t make it.” She pulled what seemed to be a leather bound diary from her pack and opened it to a bent page. She handed him the small book and said, “Read the first paragraph.”
“Ajax?”
“Who else writes like an eighteenth century priest?”
“An eighteenth century priest?” He read the top paragraph to himself. “He admits giving Homer A1, he calls it, and sending him to Los Angeles. He specifically orders him to kill women who look like Gentileschi in Judith Beheading Holoferness.”
“Gentileschi was a woman?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“No,” she said. “And don’t look so happy, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. Will the diary keep us out of jail?”
“It’s enough if we need it,” he said. “It would certainly go under the heading of mitigating circumstances, but what I want to know is how Ajax made LX?”
“He gave Homer A1-Ajax One.”
“His own blood?”
“He used the equipment in his lab to harvest his own plasma. That’s what was in the vials. His own plasma. An easy procedure for Ajax, for a chemist.”
“You know what you’re saying?”
She put the notebook in her pack. “It’s all in Ajax’s handwriting. His little plan to start a panic, use his own blood as a so-called antidote, but actually making things worse, then introduce a real antidote, saving the world and becoming a hero. His hand in the killings.”
“Did he have an antidote?”
She shook her head. “It would have taken years to develop one. The lab wasn’t used. Who knows? He might have been planning to use micro samples of his own blood. Then again, the virus is so fast acting and localized, once you contain it at the source….”
“A man with a plan,” he said.
“We stopped him.”
He nodded. “Maybe. But if there’s one thing I learned as a cop it’s that when everything is going great, expect an ambush. Is this the end of it?”
“I think we’ll be fine. His plan hinged on the box of vials that you threw out the window and I’m sure it was the only box. As for the rest of it, us getting charged with murder or anything else, I don’t think it will benefit anyone to haul us into a public court, so we should be fine.” She touched her pack. “The notebook is our insurance.”
“You did great, Rusty.”
“I did better than great,” she said and opened a side panel in her pack. She handed him a business check on stiff reddish paper. “We received our own benefit package.” The check was from Cirrus Industries and signed by Waverly. A twenty-five followed by four zeros. “I’ve got one just like it.”
He turned the crimson check over in his hands. “What did you have to do?”
“Hush money. All we have to do is shut up is my guess, even though Waverly said it was for services rendered. He has plenty. I also got him to agree to set up a trust fund for Ajax’s victims. We can work on a list later.”
“I got the same deal from the Chief, for the victims,” Reese said and explained the Chief’s short visit. “No pun intended, but this is blood money. It’s for killing Ajax and relieving Cirrus of one huge liability.” He handed the check back to her. “Keep it for me until I get out. Maybe by then I’ll know whether or not I want to cash it or tear it up.”<
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“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “If we deposit the checks that makes us accomplices. Or paid killers. Depends on where you’re standing.”
“Being quiet is the only insurance we have. Blackmail isn’t the worst thing in the world as long as it’s helping the victims.” He was quiet for a moment before looking up, “You saw her?”
“Who?”
“Long hair, fur, shells in her hair. When you blew the whistle. When Ajax had you dead to rights. She stepped out of the shadows for a second. Regal. She startled Ajax. Gave you a chance. You know who I’m talking about?”
“I was busy at the time.”
“I imagined it?”
“Maybe.” She pulled the jade whistle out of her pocket, rubbed it, and put it back. “Did you know that Ajax had a collection of newspaper clippings starring you? He was quite the fan. Those two little girls you saved. You’re a hero.”
“I was lucky.”
“Heroes? No such thing,” Professor Hamsun said as he pushed the door open with his stick. “Only fools, lovers, and those who temp fate.” Hannah Everett walked in with him. “I met this charming women downstairs. Claims she knows you, Reese. I warned her about falling in with the wrong crowd.”
“Hannah?” Reese tried to sit up, but his insides grabbed him and he fell back. She came over and patted his cheek. He settled back down into the bed and took a deep breath.
“I want to thank you for what you did,” she said. “I know what happened. I know what you went through. Ajax is gone. He’s over with. Dean can rest easy, now.”
Hamsun stepped up to the bed. “My congratulations, also.” He patted Reese’s knee. “I heard the official version and guessed the rest. You lead a big life, son.”
Reese introduced Hannah to Rusty and they briefly hugged. Hannah told her, “I heard about you, dear. Good things. And you did as much as Reese, so don’t let him take all the credit. I just hope you two will be happy together. He’s really not as bad a person as he makes out. I think he just likes to throw people off. That commitment thing men have.”
Rusty smiled in agreement and thanked her. She pulled the whistle out of her pocket and handed it to Hamsun. “I thought you’d like to have the stone back. You found it.” Hamsun turned the whistle over in his large hands. “It actually worked,” she said.
“That whistle saved our lives,” Reese added. “Don’t ask me how, but it gave us that extra second. That extra step. As crazy as it sounds, it did something. Twice.”
Rusty said, “Like something or someone reached out and touched Ajax. He got weaker. Distracted. And I got a second wind. Or maybe Ajax was just distracted by the noise. I can’t say.” Hamsun knotted his shaggy eyebrows, but said nothing. She asked him, “Could Ajax have been Father Delgado? There’s got to be more to this than just greed and power.”
“Sometimes,” Hamsun said, “it’s better not to ask. Sometimes the answers are not what you can imagine.” Hamsun handed the jade whale back to her. “It belongs to you, now. You earned it.”
Hannah Everett stepped to the window. “What a glorious sunset, it’s like the earth doesn’t want to give up the light.” They all stood together at the foot of Reese’s bed and watched the sun go down, the color dancing on the ocean’s far horizon.
Hannah finally turned to him and said, “Are you going to be okay, Reese? I’m not talking about your bones.” She looked at Rusty, “I’m talking about your life, what you’re going to do with it.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I guess I’ll go home, then,” she said. “Haven’t been away from home this long since Mr. Everett and I went to Tijuana.” She turned and smiled at them. “Where he proceeded to get sick on a bad taco. All the way back, Mr. Everett saying that he hadn’t seen one dog or one cat in Tijuana. He kept saying that and I kept pulling the car over.” She shook her head sadly, in remembrance, before perking up. “Besides, at my age, I’m naturally not fond of hospitals. So, I’ll be going, but you two come for supper soon. It was nice meeting you, dear. And take good care of Reese. He needs it.”
“I second your opinion on hospitals. Who needs them?” Hamsun said and sprang into action, opening the door for her. He clacked his stick on the linoleum. “Speaking of supper reminds me that it is nearly supper time.” Hamsun held out his arm to her. “If you’d care to join me?”
“Such a nice man,” Hannah said and now looking at the both of them, “I was serious about you two coming for dinner.” She took Hamsun’s arm and they walked down the hall.
Rusty lay on the bed next to him and they looked outside. They could see as far as the islands and the orange layered clouds where the sun had gone down.
“Look,” Reese said and pointed down to the parking lot. Hamsun and Hannah Everett were walking to Dean Everett’s old Ford holding hands. Hamsun opened the door for her and let his face brush against her hair as she got into the driver’s seat. As he walked around the car, Hamsun twirled his stick and did a small jig.
Reese said, “Will you look at those two?”
“Yeah,” Rusty said, and kissed the top of his head. “Gives us something to look forward to.” She touched his hand. “Thanks for coming back. You didn’t have to.”
“You came for me,” he said. “We’re even.” He took her into his arms as best he could, lying there like he was. “What are you going to do now?”
She kissed him. “I’ll wait until you’re out - until your bones mend. And then let’s leave the state. I’m tired of the fires and the rain - the droughts are bad enough - and the earthquakes and the people. I heard about a dig starting in England when I was there,” she said. “Roman coins, artifacts. There may be gold, a little adventure, who knows. No earthquakes. No vampires. They need a site cataloguer and you could be my assistant.”
He shifted a little. “How about assistant to the cataloguer, that sounds better, a little more official, especially for a man of my experience.”
“The Cataloguer’s Assistant,” she said. “I like that. It sounds like the title of an English movie where everyone has wrinkles.” She touched his face. “I’m starting to like wrinkles.
“How many?”
“What?”
“How many vials?”
“You know?” She drew her hand back from his face.
“I know you.”
“An even dozen,” she said.
“You are something.”
“I’ll have them analyzed.”
“Like tomorrow?”
“If I can find a good microbiologist.”
“You couldn’t just let it go?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“You might not like what you find,” he said. “Halloran did not know what he had. Rabbits that couldn’t be killed. People that couldn’t be killed. The sample burned up. He was lucky he didn’t kill himself or someone else. He was lucky the sample didn’t get away from him. We all are. And very lucky we stopped Ajax before things got way out of hand. Before more people died. We likely just saw the tip of an iceberg. And you want to risk starting it all over again?”
“I’ll be more careful than Halloran,” she said. “I never told you the first rule of archeology. It’s this: ‘The deeper you dig, the more you find.’”
“You did tell me the first rule. But you said it was accuracy.” He brought her to him. “The deeper you dig, is it? I’ll keep that in mind the next time you get into trouble.”
“And what makes you think I’ll get into trouble?” she asked and kissed him.
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