by Cenarth Fox
At this rate, I’ll get to Lois in time to save her Mum.
Then he saw the police car.
Jessica rang the number again. The Commissioner knew who it was.
‘Good evening Premier.’
‘I haven’t heard from you, Commissioner. I need to know what’s happening.’
‘We’ve made another arrest, madam.’
‘Excellent. Please tell me it’s Mr Bernard Slim.’
‘No, it’s Dr Hetherington-Smythe.’
‘What! I told you to release him.’
‘We did, and he’s been arrested again.’
‘Again? On what charge?’
‘Threatening a security officer. The good doctor was attempting to force entry to the Labcope building.’
Jessica lost it — hugely.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake. That’s his office. He’s the CEO of Labcope.’
‘We know that madam, and do have the matter in hand.’
‘Are you running Victoria’s Keystone Kops?’
Jessica risked blowing a gasket. Her career slid towards the gurgler.
And it was Groundhog Day in the police station as Ralphie got sprung yet again.
Jessica became desperate, and played the terror card.
‘Chief Commissioner, I’ve received troubling information. This drug has attracted one of Melbourne’s most violent criminals. Does the name Luca Parisi mean anything to you?’
‘It does indeed.’
‘Far be it from me to tell you your job, Commissioner, but I would suggest it is better to be safe than sorry.’
‘With respect, Premier, you are telling me my job.’
Jessica rarely paused but she let the silence linger then struck.
‘Remember, sir, if this conscience drug, and your fellow officers become better acquainted, your career, reputation and super, may well disappear.’
The Commissioner heard a dial tone. He considered the cavalry.
‘Bernie’s on his way,’ said Lois, replacing her phone.
Luca growled. ‘I don’t like being lied to.’
‘It’s true. He’s in Balaclava, and racing to St Kilda.’
She didn’t know he was racing to St Kilda on a toddler’s scooter.
‘Either I get that formula real soon or somebody’s gunna become a blood donor.’ Luca produced his gun.
Mother had recovered, and was resting on the settee. In her new personality, she just couldn’t help herself.
‘Would anyone like another cuppa?’ she asked. Mother turned, and saw Luca holding a gun. Her eyes popped, her jaw dropped. She pointed.
‘He’s got a gun.’
Lois went to her mother.
‘It’s okay, Mum. Everything’s fine.’
‘No it’s not,’ argued Mother.
This was more like the old girl. Was she backsliding? Had the MCP worn thin? She turned on her daughter.
‘How dare you allow a gunman to enter my house?’
‘I’m sorry, Mum.’
Luca snapped. ‘Tell the old cow to shut it.’
Mother exploded. ‘Old cow!’
Now we’re getting somewhere. Here comes the “old” Mother.
Genevieve didn’t care. She had something else on her mind.
‘Is the scientist bringing the antidote? I need the antidote.’
The Chief of Staff suffered withdrawal symptoms — or something — and perhaps Mother required a second dose of the MCP.
Bernie hid in the shadows. The police car crept along, getting closer. It went past him. He exhaled a large serve of air. Safe. No!
The car stopped, reversed, and a torch lit the scientist and his scooter.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ called the police officer.
Bernie panicked. He had to get to Lois, and save her Mum, the Premier’s offsider, and the rest of the world if necessary. He lost the plot.
Flipping the scooter, he took off. The police car swung around, and raced after the weirdo with the flapping trouser leg.
Being on the footpath, meant Bernie could corner faster than the police, especially when they faced a stop sign. Did the police guidelines governing dangerous pursuits, include tearaways on a kid’s scooter?
This was crazy. Bernie could not out-scoot a car.
It drew level in the next street, and the driver called to Bernie to stop. He knew he should but if they took him in for questioning, how could he save Lois and her Mum? If the cops took him to Lois and her Mum’s house, the lunatic with the gun might go crazy.
I can’t keep fooling gangsters. I have to give them the formula.
Bernie scooted flat out. It was dangerous. If something — a pet, a car, a person — came out of a driveway, a collision was inevitable.
The police car got ahead, slowed, and the passenger cop jumped out, and ran to Bernie.
‘Oi, police, stop!’
Bernie didn’t. The cop dived but the desperate scientist broke the tackle, crashed, and slid on the grass. Grass stains didn’t improve his outfit. He recovered and took off. So did the cop who gained on the Formula 1 scooter driver.
There was a gap between properties, a narrow pathway with a metal barrier to stop cyclists racing into the street. Bernie managed to slow, negotiate the barrier, and then race along this walkway.
The running constable overshot, and by the time he stopped and got to the barrier, Bernie was scooting to safety.
The driving cop called to his colleague.
‘Hop in. We’ll get him around the block.’
The car screeched away. Bernie heard it, and looked back. Nothing.
He turned the scooter, and flew back to the barrier. No police car in sight. He crossed the road, and made a beeline for St Kilda, and his second appointment with a gangster.
With Ralph released yet again, he accepted a lift from the apologetic police. They dropped him in Cremorne by his car.
He stood in the street, and looked at Bernie’s darkened house.
Will I try Slim again? No.
He drove home, collected his ID, and headed to Labcope.
Ralph didn’t see the cop car in the corner of the underground car park. A police officer informed the Chief Commissioner a gent had arrived. He matched the description of the Labcope CEO.
In the foyer, the obsequious security guard welcomed the CEO, who flaunted his ID.
In his office, Ralph considered his options. He believed that Bernie might have hidden the formula in his laboratory. If so, Ralph knew he had to find the formula or destroy it.
Final throw of the dice, my son.
Ralph headed to the R & D lab.
Bernie dumped the scooter in Mother’s garden and knocked on the door. Lois opened it, and dragged her colleague inside.
‘Oh Bernie, thank heavens … my God, what’s happened?’
Luca arrived with gun drawn.
‘It’s what’s gunna happen that counts. Now give me the formula.’
Bernie and Lois were pushed into the lounge room. The others were shocked at Bernie’s appearance.
‘Please, have you got the antidote?’ begged Genevieve.
‘What’s happened to your clothes?’ asked a concerned Mother. ‘Come and sit down.’
Luca lost control. He had the gun but Mother the authority.
Genevieve lost it. ‘Please, I have to have the antidote.’
Bernie fumbled in his pocket, and produced a vial with a few tablets. Lois glanced at them, then handed the vial to Genevieve.
‘How many do I take?’ She fumbled undoing the top and yelled. ‘How many?’
‘Just one,’ yelled Bernie, ‘and with water.’
Lois brought a glass of water from the kitchen. Everyone watched Genevieve nervously pop a pill then swallow.
Bernie and Lois made eye contact. Lois thought.
I know those pills. Are they what I think they are?
Bernie’s nod was close to imperceptible. Placebo pills were common in many medical trials. The deception continued.
‘Right,’ bossed Luca, tossing his keys to Bernie. ‘You drug makers get what’s in my boot. It’s the black Beamer out front. Now move.’
Bernie and Lois stumbled outside.
Mother protested. Her annoyance now mixed with fear; this was no party for Lois and her friends.
Luca called after the scientists. ‘Try anything funny and the old bag gets it first.’
Mother gasped. ‘Old bag!’
Genevieve flipped. ‘I don’t feel any different. The antidote doesn’t work. I’ve still got a headache.’
‘Shut up,’ spat Luca, whose anger simmered. He walked to the front door and watched the others open his boot, and remove its contents.
Ralph pulled on some gloves, and entered the R & D lab. He worked with hardly any lights. He searched, his mind flirting with turmoil.
Is the formula on a disc or stick? In the Cloud? What about a laptop, tablet, or desktop? Is it in code? Can I encrypt it?
His thinking screamed. Where is that formula?
He left things exactly as they were, his addiction to tidiness ruling his life. He wanted that formula more than anything else in the world.
It has to be here. It is here. But where?
Ralph was right. Bernie did keep the formula in his lab, and a copy elsewhere. If only Ralph knew Bernie was a fan of Sherlock Holmes.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Mr Holmes remarked that, “There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact”.
The formula was staring Ralph in the face. The best place to hide something is often in plain view. Ralph walked past the formula every day.
Oh Ralphie, you may have a doctorate, but where are your simple skills of observation and knowledge? Despite his painstaking search, he found nothing. His thoughts turned to crime.
If I can’t have it, nobody can.
Ralph prepared a bomb.
Jessica chewed her nails. Her days seemed numbered, her stellar career doomed. One lucky, plucky scientist had found a way to ruin her life.
Goodbye top job. Goodbye career. Goodbye politics and the Law. Her reputation faced disaster.
But quitting didn’t appeal to Jessica. She pondered possibilities.
Get the formula and destroy it.
Get the antidote for Genevieve.
Get the formula and destroy it.
Get Genevieve to disappear.
Get the formula and destroy it.
Get Bernie Slim.
Get the formula and destroy it.
Become a nun.
Ah, but where there’s life, there’s hope.
Bernie and Lois struggled up the garden path guiding the contents of Luca’s boot — Animal.
His mouth and hands were tightly bound. He was dazed, and his head hurt like buggery. The trio entered the room. Shock from Mother.
Genevieve grabbed Bernie’s arm.
‘How long before this antidote kicks in?’
‘Take off his gag,’ ordered Luca. Lois and Bernie obliged.
Animal spluttered. ‘I’ll never grass, boss, never, I swear.’
‘And his hands. Then give him one of the antidote pills.’
Genevieve handed over one tablet. She clung to the vial. Lois offered water.
‘Get that down you,’ snapped Luca.
Animal swallowed. Everyone looked at him. He seemed confused.
‘Well?’ asked the man with the gun.
‘I think I feel better.’
‘I don’t,’ said Genevieve.
‘You need more time,’ said Bernie.
Luca ordered everyone to sit. He moved behind Bernie.
Mother fussed. ‘Somebody will be in serious trouble over this.’
Luca ignored her and dealt with Bernie.
‘Right, wise guy, let’s have the formula.’
Bernie felt the gun on the back of his skull. He spoke.
‘It’s in my lab.’
Luca cuffed the back of Bernie’s head. Ouch.
‘No more lies,’ spat Luca. ‘You gave my man a useless formula before you drugged him. Look at him. He’s not happy, and me, I’m annoyed. Now my doctor says I should never get annoyed. He reckons I lose control when I’m annoyed. And when I lose control, people get hurt.’ He leant in close to Bernie. ‘Would you like me to lose control?’
Bernie, along with everyone else, found it hard to breathe.
‘No.’
‘So hand over the formula — now.’
‘I will give you the formula, the right formula, I promise, but I keep it in my laboratory.’
Luca seemed close to losing it. He hated these situations. His threats usually worked. Here they didn’t. He searched for a solution.
‘I’ll give you a pen and paper. You write it down.’
‘I can’t remember it all.’
Luca’s gun pressed against Bernie’s head. ‘Will this help?’
‘I can’t remember because it’s complicated. I need all the ingredients, the right amount of each ingredient, and the correct procedure in mixing and cooking the drug. If I get one part of the formula wrong, the drug won’t work.’
‘That’s true,’ added Lois, trying to calm the furious criminal.
Luca wandered — a bit like Jessica on her walkabouts.
‘So where is it in your lab? What’s the special code to unlock the safe?’
‘There is no code.’
‘What, you just leave it lying around for anyone to see and steal?’
‘Pretty much.’
Luca exploded. ‘I warned you what’ll happen if I get annoyed. If you’re taking the piss like you did at your parents, so help me …’
‘I’m not.’ Bernie started sweating. ‘I swear I’m telling the truth.’
‘So why hasn’t it been found?’
‘Because Security look for bugs, and my boss is too clever by half.’
‘You mean Ralph from South Yarra?’
Bernie nodded. ‘If he’s found it, we’d know.’
Lois joined in. ‘He’d tell the world and claim it was his invention.’
‘So if it’s not in a safe, then where?’
‘I hide it in plain sight.’
Silence. Lois shook her head.
Bernie Slim, you are amazing.
‘In plain sight?’ said Luca. Bernie nodded. ‘Where?’
‘It’s on the back of the door in my lab.’
Lois stifled a laugh. Luca thought Bernie was stalling, lying or both. He again put the gun to Bernie’s head, and growled.
‘I’m getting really annoyed.’
‘There’s a calendar hanging on the door. We write in dates for jobs, meetings, conferences, etc. I’ve written the formula in amongst the other calendar stuff. It’s all there, everything.’
More silence. Luca withdrew his gun. Bernie sounded sincere.
‘Boss,’ said Animal.
‘Shut up.’
‘I think I’m feelin’ better.’
Genevieve agreed. ‘Me too. I think I’m feeling better.’
Luca decided. ‘Right, Animal, you drive.’ He pointed at Bernie and Lois. ‘You two come with me. We’re gunna get that calendar.’
‘I can’t go like this,’ said Bernie indicating his clothes. ‘Security will be suspicious.’
‘I’ve got something,’ whispered Lois. ‘Just don’t let Mum see you.’
‘Hurry, go,’ snapped Luca.
Lois kissed her mother. ‘Just going for a short trip to the office, Mum. Genevieve will stay with you. See you soon.’
Lois looked at Genevieve with hope. Genevieve nodded.
The ‘new’ Mother accepted her daughter’s situation.
Bernie and Lois went upstairs. The two crims waited. Bernie descended wearing a pair of Lois’s late father’s Fletcher Jones trousers, and a cardigan with missing buttons and three moth holes. The trousers were beige and the cardy lime green. They were faded, too small and reeked of mothballs. It was not a good look.
‘Bloody hell,’ groaned Luca. ‘It’s fanc
y dress.’ He pointed his gun at Genevieve. ‘Contact anyone and your family disappears.’
The formula hunters piled into Luca’s motor; a bimmer not a beamer.
Ralph finished making the bomb.
Okay, earning a PhD in Science didn’t include Terrorism 101, but if anyone knew how to construct an explosive device, the Hyphen did.
He set the timer for one hour then took a final look around the room.
Is there somewhere I haven’t looked? Is there some crazy place that prick might have hidden the formula?
Nothing jumped out at him.
He went to the door, grasped the handle and faced the calendar. Something caught his eye.
Of course. It’s the wrong month.
Having OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, he flipped the page and, in so doing, missed the one thing he’d been chasing for weeks. He spurned the formula which had been staring at him every time he walked out of this very laboratory.
Oh dear.
Genevieve ignored Luca’s threat. The moment the group left for Labcope, Genevieve called her boss. Jessica answered, breathless.
‘Darling, where are you? I’ve been so worried.’
‘Shut up and listen,’ said Genevieve. ‘I’ve taken a tablet which the guy who invented the drug reckons is the antidote.’
Jessica’s heart skipped two beats.
‘And?’
‘I think I’m feeling better. And the formula’s in the laboratory at Labcope. Luca Parisi has kidnapped the two scientists, and is taking them there right now.’
‘Shit. Where are you?’
‘I’m at my godfather’s sister’s place in St Kilda, 43 Mala Road.’
‘Stay there. I’ll have someone rescue you.’
‘Luca threatened my family. Get the police to my home now.’
‘Of course. Love you, babe.’
Jessica’s priority was the formula. She rang the top cop.
Commissioner Metcalfe wanted to avoid an incident. The stakes were high. If this conscience drug worked as claimed, having even one senior police officer pop a pill could be disastrous.
Now that criminals were involved, it was time to bring in the Special Operations Group or SOG. They had serious firepower. Yes, if triggers are pulled and bodies shot, trouble will loom large — mountains of paperwork, enquiries, and trips to the coroner — but needs must.