Deadly Conception

by Patrick Blake

  “Hi there. Next one to DC please. I’m a Boston Police Detective. My firearm is locked up in my luggage. It’s gotta be checked through.” Gabriel flashed Keeler’s badge and police ID thinking; I don’t really look like Keeler so here goes nothin’.

  The attractive agent handed back the badge. She looked up at Gabriel and back the ID card a few times.

  Shit, Gabriel thought, I’m so fucked.

  “Thank you, Detective. You’ve lost some weight.”

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “About 50 pounds. Thanks for noticing.” Gabriel was winging it.

  “It’s like you’re another person.” She smiled. “One way, correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He handed over a wad of twenties.

  “Cash?” She paused.

  Gabriel knew cash for a one-way ticket was a red flag. “Yeah. Sorry about that. The city hasn’t been very nice to my credit cards. I went a little wild.”

  She giggled. “No problem, Detective. The city can make people a little wild. Come back and visit again.” She beamed and handed over his boarding pass.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Gabriel smiled and hurried away. So far, so good.

  Quick stepping through the terminal, Gabriel looked like every other hustling traveler, scurrying to make a flight. The transit cops didn’t notice him. No one noticed him.

  Thanks Keeler. I beat your watch list.

  By the time he reached his gate he was breathless, mostly from nerves. The gate agent was making last call…she was closing the jetway door.

  But he made it. He was on his way. He checked his phone.

  Not much charge. But four bars! Yes!

  The lightening had abated. He tried calling Raimy, but the flight attendant stopped him.

  “Sir, we’re about to take off. Please turn off your phone immediately.”

  He nodded, but as soon as the steward was out of sight he quickly drafted a message to his friends.

  On a flight to DC. You’re in danger. They hung my lawyer Cody in my apartment. It was Keeler. He thought it was me. Keeler was after me. But he might be dead, too. Beware. They think they got me. They’re coming for you.

  Before he could hit the SEND button, the jet lifted off, and his phone went dark.

  Chapter 77 – Great Falls, VA

  Forbes silently pulled his car into Firuzeh’s driveway. He stepped out and walked around the property, peering into each window. Then he saw them. Sitting on the couch. Cozy. Very cozy.

  I can make this work; he thought and went to the front and rang the doorbell.

  “Warren! What’s going on? Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

  “Mrs. Patel, I’m sorry to disturb you after hours. Is Dr. Robinson here? I need to talk to both of you.”

  “Of course. Come in.” Firuzeh led Warren to the great room, where Raimy rose from the couch, shirt rumpled.

  “Dr. Robinson, good evening. I hope I’m not…interrupting,” Warren commented with salacious tones.

  Firuzeh stiffened. “Watch your tone, Warren. What do you want?”

  Forbes looked sad but resolute, and he drew his gun. “You two have got to be stopped. I didn’t want this to happen. But you’ve left me no choice.”

  “What is the meaning of this? Put that down! You’re scaring me,” Firuzeh ordered, indignant.

  Raimy stepped up in front of Firuzeh and challenged Forbes. “I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, but you better put that thing away.”

  Forbes fired a shot, purposely missing Raimy. Firuzeh screamed and jumped back.

  “That was a warning. Now shut up and sit down,” he ordered.

  The couple complied.

  “Hold out your hands,” he commanded, and zip tied their wrists. Then he shoved Raimy to the floor, cinched his ankles, and roughly pulled him upright.

  When he moved to Firuzeh to do the same thing, she kicked Warren in the face. He parried the blow easily and pistol whipped her across her mouth.

  “You son of a bitch!” she shrieked.

  Raimy lurched forward and threw himself at Forbes.

  But the gun-wielding man easily stepped back and Raimy’s lunge missed, landing him on the floor.

  “Stay put. You’re not a hero.”

  Forbes returned to Firuzeh. “I apologize Mrs. Patel. But I have no choice. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” He zip tied her ankles, and she spat in his face.

  “I guess I deserve that,” he said and wiped the spittle from his cheek.

  Forbes turned and pulled Raimy by the scruff and heaved him onto the couch.

  “What has gotten into you? Are you insane?” cried Firuzeh.

  “Mrs. Patel, I have to stop you. Our research is getting close and you two are messing it up. It’s my job to tie up loose ends…and you two are that last of it.”

  “What are you talking about? What research?” Raimy yelled.

  Forbes sat across from the twosome; his gun trained on them.

  “Dr. Robinson, you discovered something that needs to be kept secret. We thought we had you off our threat list when you stole those medical examiner files. You were to be discredited and shunned as just another eccentric conspiracy theorist.”

  “The chemical anomaly!”

  “That’s right. You found it when no one else did. You’re quite smart. But too smart for your own good.”

  “You know about it?” said Raimy, stunned.

  “Yes. And that was an exposure we needed to cut off. But Mrs. Patel here learned about it. And that changed everything.”

  “What are you saying, you goddamned son of a dog!” Firuzeh demanded.

  “I may as well tell you both. You’ll be dead soon. Dr. Robinson, that chemical anomaly, as you call it, is the latest attempt at a fertility cure. An illegal one that relies…”

  “What are you talking about?” Firuzeh interrupted.

  “If you’d shut the hell up, I’ll tell you.” Forbes sprung to his feet, threatening to shoot.

  Firuzeh never took her eyes off him. She smiled. “Go ahead. Shoot. Explain that to the police.”

  Forbes regained his composure and sat, embarrassed by letting Firuzeh get under his skin.

  “It’s a fertility cure that relies on techniques and procedures that are, unfortunately, illegal. The research must remain secret. There are powerful people who want it…who need it…to succeed. There are too many lives at stake.”

  “Illegal?” Raimy asked. “So, this isn’t in vitro fertilization, I take it?”

  “Not at all. It’s a mix of ectogenesis, cisgenics, and genome editing. Honestly, I don’t understand it but they’re reversing infertility due to genetic defects.”

  “I’d give your research team a solid F. The chemical you all discovered is killing people, not the other way around,” Raimy said.

  “Used the wrong way, yes, it’s lethal.”

  Forbes turned toward Firuzeh and continued. “Mrs. Patel, you know Asrani was incapable of having children.”

  “Of course, I know that. You idiot.”

  “He was driven to change that…and he wasn’t the only one. We have been working together to find a cure, but research takes money, especially banned research. And it needs to be untraceable. Asrani’s obsession for an heir and his superior banking skills made him a natural for the organization.”

  “You....you were behind that bank heist!” Firuzeh said.

  “Your husband planned it.”

  “Not Asrani!” Her voice shook.

  “Yes, Asrani. And others. The robbery was successful. The money is already with our researchers.”

  “What? I can’t believe it. Why?” Firuzeh pleaded.

  “He came to me and told me about his plan. He wanted biological children. And I wanted money. I’m tired of working. A retired cop’s income, even with my bank job, just isn’t enough for what I could have with a few million stashed away.”

  “And you knew all the dirty cops to hire on to help you, huh?” Firuzeh said scornfully.
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  “Not just cops. We paid off the general contractor leading the Bulfinch Crossing project to get access to the adjacent property. We needed people without any criminal records who had construction experience. We needed law enforcement support to misdirect the follow-up investigation. That was my assignment. I knew all the right cops for the job…and how to recruit ‘em anonymously.”

  “So, you got Keeler and Paolucci? Kypreos, too. You hired them to pull this off…to be your muscle?” said Raimy.

  “That’s right. They got our tunnelers and they made sure the investigation went in every direction but ours.”

  “…and Asrani knew the bank systems, right?” added Raimy.

  “Asrani was thorough. He knew banking. He knew business. He set up a fake company to look legitimate. He arranged for fake customers, employees, accounting, health insurance. Christ, he even had a business development plan to scale their landscaping operation. Asrani knew excellent deception was key.”

  “Did he know you killed Liam Lohan?” asked Raimy.

  “That Lohan kid was reckless. Spending money like a drunken sailor. He needed to be eliminated.”

  “You son of a…you’re not a thief…you’re a cold-blooded killer,” Raimy stammered.

  “Warren, why was Asrani killed?” implored Firuzeh, her cheek swelling from the gun smack.

  “Your husband was terminated because it was his phone that breached security. I didn’t know it was him at first. But when there’s a breach like that the protocol is to cut the leak off immediately. Asrani was sloppy. He let his phone fall into the hands of Mr. Sweeney and Mr. Souza. I had no choice. I ordered the team to remove the threat. I didn’t know it was Asrani until later. But it wouldn’t have made a difference. He knew the rules.”

  “You killed him. You traitor! You’re worse than a hundred scorpions!” she snapped.

  “Mrs. Patel, for what’s it’s worth, I didn’t want to hurt Asrani. He set this up. But what we are doing is bigger than him. Yes, I ordered him killed. I had no choice.”

  Firuzeh stared at him. “You’re just doing this for the money. Asrani stole for vanity…it was conceit for a biological legacy. He wasn’t a killer. You’re killing for money. You will burn in hell,” she said, emphasizing the last sentence like an incantation.

  “Damn you,” Raimy swore.

  “Sorry, Dr. Robinson. You were too nosy. And when I found out your buddies had the chip, they had to be eliminated, too. You’re collateral damage”

  “You killed Gabriel?” Raimy said. “Oh my God...”

  “You’ll never get away with this,” Firuzeh said.

  “I think I will. Mrs. Patel, you are the grieving widow for a man who cheated on you, repeatedly. Dr. Robinson, you’re the out-of-control pathologist ranting about conspiracy theories who became unhinged after learning of your wife’s adultery. The two of you met and made a suicide pact. You will both die in bed together as a sad, desperate act in retaliation of your cheating spouses.”

  “You’re insane!”

  “Maybe. But it will work. I see the half-empty bottle of wine. You two were getting pretty cozy. And on the same day you buried your husband?” Forbes shook his head. “Shame, shame, Mrs. Patel. The scandal sheets will have a field day. I guess I should thank you for making it so easy for me.”

  Forbes cut Raimy’s legs free, levelled his gun, and ordered him to his feet. “Let’s go, doc. Upstairs. There’s a bedroom waiting for you.”

  Warren forced Raimy up the stairs to the master bedroom where he removed the zip ties and lashed him to the bed rails using a pillowcase. He went back downstairs and did the same to Firuzeh.

  “You’ll never get away with this, Warren. Never,” she warned.

  Forbes laughed as he man-handled her up the stairs and shoved her onto the bed next to Raimy.

  “Don’t you two look like a sweet pair of love birds,” Forbes teased, and went to the master bathroom where he found a variety of prescription drugs including Lunesta, a strong sleeping aid he knew Asrani used occasionally. He mixed a lethal dose of nearly 400 milligrams into the remaining wine and forced it down the throats of both victims.

  “I’ll be back in a bit. Enjoy your final moments together. I’m going to rig the house for a nice cleansing fire,” threatened Forbes as he walked out.

  Chapter 78

  Detective Paolucci pulled his Cadillac onto Fallon Road and parked three hundred feet from the mansion lodge driveway and walked up to the front door.

  He saw two cars in the driveway. Who else is here?

  Nino used his lock pick set to open the sturdy front door, and quietly walked in…listening…when he saw an older man carrying half a dozen candles up the stairs.

  I recognize that guy. Where do I know him?

  Nino tiptoed up the stairs, gun drawn, and followed the man’s voice.

  “Your death bed will go up in flames. Excuse the dramatics but I don’t want any evidence sitting around,” Forbes pronounced as he arranged the candles on the nightstands near the curtains.

  “Warren, you’re a son-of-a-bitch and a coward,” Firuzeh lashed.

  “I typed up a lover’s suicide note. I’ll leave it in your car. I wouldn’t want it to burn up in the house,” Forbes said and patted his breast pocket.

  “It’s you, Forbes. It’s you who will burn in hell,” Raimy said, slowly surrendering to the drugs in his blood stream.

  Nino watched and listened unseen. He heard enough. He pulled out his phone, silently tapped out a quick text.

  Something’s come up. Important. Need your help.

  Nino hit SEND.

  Still hidden, the detective watched the man Asrani’s widow called ‘Warren’ and who Raimy called Forbes.

  Nino saw him reach into his pocket and pull out his smartphone to read the incoming text.

  Nino waited, thinking. I know that face. Fuck. Warren Forbes? Where do I know this fucker?

  And then it happened. His own phone vibrated with a new text.

  What’s the problem?

  Nino smiled. Got it! He tucked away his phone and walked into the bedroom. “I’ll tell you what the problem is, boss. Or should I just call you, Superintendent Earl Warren Forbes?

  “Paolucci! What are you doing here?” Forbes blurted.

  Chapter 79 – Crystal City, VA

  Twenty-three miles away, Gabriel sprinted through the airport to his waiting share ride.

  “8-9-2-2 Fallon Road in Great Falls. Take the Parkway. Please hurry,” he begged, pulling out the phone he’d finally managed to charge on the plane using a borrowed cord. He called, emailed, and sent texts, urging Raimy or Firuzeh to contact him. He was near panic. He thought of Forbes to help warn his friends.

  I don’t even have his number…shit, shit, shit.

  He thumbed through his wallet and yanked out…two-hundred fifty-eight dollars.

  “Driver, I’m in an incredible hurry. Here! It’s all yours. Just get me there as fast as you can. Please.”

  Richie Rennfarr looked into the rearview mirror of his parent’s black Honda Accord and stared, briefly, at the nervous man in the back. Then he snatched a peek at the pile of cash on the passenger seat. He smiled. “Buckle up.”

  Gabriel had no idea the driver was a college student on summer break who used his father’s new Accord to earn money before returning to school. Nor did he know that the cooperative driver returned from West Virginia’s Peak Point race track the day before where the aspiring racer took part in the famous Friday At The Track high performance instructional driving course.

  Rennfarr eased out of the airport at the speed limit. “I’ll get going once I’m outta here. Then I’ll open it up.”

  “Okay. Thanks,” Gabriel responded. He unlocked his gun case and re-loaded both firearms.

  When Rennfarr took his lane on the George Washington Memorial Parkway, Gabriel felt a surge of speed. Rounding the left-hand sweeper at Gravelly Point, the driver sliced a racing line across both lanes, pushing 85 mph and acce
lerating to 110 into the straight. Approaching the Marine Corps Memorial, the Parkway doglegged right and then opened up for a straight and then into a constant radius left hand turn. Gabriel peeked at the speedometer and exhaled.

  Holy shit…115…this kid is moving.

  The next few miles were a blur of mostly straight road, and Rennfarr was clocking a steady 135 mph. At the Chain Bridge exit, Rennfarr braked hard and dove into the double-apex right hand turn with an entry speed of 90 mph.

  The next couple of miles included seven ess turns. Rennfarr used the entire road. He blazed through the set at 105 mph.

  “By the way, what’s the speed limit?” Gabriel asked, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

  “The owner’s manual says 155…but I’ve never gotten it over 150. Probably needs higher octane gas to get that extra power,” the young man responded, looking quite comfortable zipping along the road.

  “Right…I meant the speed limit for the parkway.”

  “Oh...got it. I dunno…like 40 or something. I never look. I stay with the flow of traffic. Except for special cases.” Rennfarr looked into the rearview mirror, caught Gabriel’s eyes, and smiled.

  The forty-minute trip came to an end 23 minutes later.

  “Thanks, buddy. Gotta run.” Gabriel stepped out onto the driveway apron. He spotted the Cadillac, Paolucci’s car. But he didn’t recognize it, so he thought nothing of it. He quickly made his way up the driveway.

  Chapter 80 – Great Falls, VA

  “I thought I recognized you, Superintendent Forbes. It’s been a while since you left the department. I see you’ve done well for yourself. Decided to take the low road, you fucking hypocrite. I’ll bet the boys in Boston would love to know Mr. Clean is just as dirty as the rest of us.”

  “Nino, you’re breaking protocol. You know better.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Warren. I don’t give a shit what you’re doing with those two. Go ahead and fry ‘em. They’ve been a pain in the ass for too long, especially the doc. I’m just here for the money.”

  “What money? You idiot. You already got paid. And I know about how you set up Kypreos to try and take his share. And you killed Lohan to try and get his money. My advice to you is to leave now. You’re already in over your head,” Forbes warned.