The Adults in the Room

by Jeffrey Mechling

  Prominent neurologist found dead in Fell’s Point alleyway.

  “Prominent neurologist Felix Gray was found dead this morning in an alley next to a well-known gay bar, the Pink Flamingo. Police are investigating a possible hate crime.”

  Tim thought that all murders involved a certain amount of hate, but the fact that his own doctor was apparently murdered was just a little too much of a coincidence. Tim was not aware that Dr. Gray was gay, but that really did not make any difference. There were lots of gay people out of the closet these days, so what was the big deal?

  What bothered Tim was the conversation Dr. Gray and Tim had had during their last appointment. It did appear to Tim that Dr. Gray perhaps knew a little too much about the covert world Tim and Pam inhabited and knowing too much about any secrets could end up getting you killed.

  “Sebastian.” It was Pam voice coming from the rear of the house, but it sounded like she was speaking to a recording. “Sebastian, I have tried to call and text you on all of the phone numbers I have. Please call me and tell me what the hell is going on!”

  Pam was sounding desperate now—and worse, panicky. That was one of Agent Pam Atkins-Hall’s weak points. She did have an inclination to panic and had shown that years ago at spy school. As a matter of fact, it almost resulted in her being tossed from the program, until Tim had helped her work on it. Tim, strangely enough, never did panic and had always felt that panicking was a waste of energy—energy that otherwise could be used to figure out what to do.

  Pam came into the library and headed straight for the bar. She poured herself a shot of Jack Daniels and drank it in one gulp. She poured herself another and sat down directly opposite Tim. Her head was bowed, and she appeared to be staring at the brown drink in her shot glass. She then swallowed that as well and looked at Tim.

  “What does it all mean, Tim?”

  “Well, it’s possible that the President has not been poisoned and is really sick...but if that were the case, Sebastian should be on the phone with you right now telling you so. But he’s not.”

  “No,” Pam agreed, “he’s not.”

  “So, let’s now assume that the President has been poisoned and that the other conspirators have decided for one reason or another to cut you out of the plan. In other words, Pam, they have decided to move forward without any input from you; and that might be a good thing, because once you go down this road, there’s no turning back. You would be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life.”

  “Yes, Tim, but the thing is that I have already gone down the road.”

  “Tell me how, Pam.”

  Tim watched Pam lift her head and stare at the ceiling. She sniffled a little, and for a second Tim thought that his wife might be crying. As she brought her head back down and looked at him, though, Tim could see that she was not.

  “It was my idea to bring you back from the dead, Tim. I sold it to Ajacks and to Sebastian. They were not for it, but I felt that you could be useful. You were always very good at making things happen, and I thought you would be a good asset.”

  An “asset” in the world of espionage was not a particularly good position to hold. Assets did supply critical information and perform important functions, but, at the end of the day, they were usually expendable. Tim had thought from the beginning that Toby and Mary Ann were assets, but he’d never realized he was one as well.

  He did not show his disappointment to Pam. “Okay, so you brought me back in. What else?”

  “Well, I think that I could probably take credit for the entire idea of poisoning the President.”

  This was what Tim had been afraid of hearing. Pam was in too deep, which probably meant that this was not the end of her (and, for that matter, Tim’s) involvement. The other conspirators were keeping them around, but for what purpose?

  Tim thought he had a pretty good guess. “Pam,” he began, making sure he had her attention, “when a president is assassinated, the public usually wants to know two things. How did it happen, and who did it?”

  Tim looked Pam squarely in the eyes. “When the President dies, they will tell the public how, but next they will need to tell them who, and I’m afraid that will be you and me.”

  Pam sat for a minute as she let Tim’s words sink in. Then she calmly got to her feet, walked over to the bar, and made two vodka martinis. She handed one to Tim and sat next to him again. “So, what do you think we should do about that?”

  “First, I think you need to fill me in on some missing information. What do you know about the treatment I received in the Dominican Republic?”

  “Well, I know what Sebastian told me. He thought that perhaps your retrograde amnesia could be better treated in Santa Domingo.”

  “Assuming that I am suffering from retrograde amnesia.”

  “And what makes you think that you’re not suffering from amnesia, Tim?”

  “I will get to that in a second. First, do you know a woman doctor named Lockwood and a fat guy named Justice?”

  “I assume that the fat guy named Justice is also a doctor?” Pam asked.

  “Yes, both are doctors. Lockwood and Justice, and they have a practice in the medical building next to Lansdowne Hospital.”

  “No, I don’t. Why do you ask?”

  “I saw Dr. Lockwood at the Wegmans pharmacy this afternoon, except in Santa Domingo she went by the name Nurse Jennifer.”

  “And?”

  “And, what were these two doing in the Dominican Republic? Why would two doctors from Leesburg, Virginia, pretend to operate an embryonic stem cell research center in a foreign country?”

  “For fun and profit? How the hell am I supposed to know?”

  “It just doesn’t pass the commonsense test, Pam. There would be thousands of doctors in the Dominican Republic who would do anything you paid them to do. Why bring these two down from Virginia?” Tim paused. “Unless they already knew something about me. Something about my case. They have answers, Pam. Answers that you and I need to know.”

  “So how do we get these answers, Tim?” Pam wondered.

  “I need to have an after-hours conversation with both doctors, but I will need your help.”

  “Sounds like a gun and duct tape job,” Pam pointed out. “Do you have any other felonies in mind? Perhaps we should knock over a bank on our way back home.”

  Despite Pam’s sarcasm, Tim could tell that she was beginning to consider how to best proceed. Pam got up from the couch and walked over to the computer, tapping some keys and then moving the mouse around.

  “Well, they are both internists—and according to their website, they are open Monday until four o’clock. There is a picture of the practice, Tim, and it looks like there may only be one other person. A receptionist nurse type. It looks like we could take and control the office, but not for longer than for ten to twenty minutes. It’s a big office building with too many variables. We certainly would not want to hang around for too long.”

  “Too many variables” was Pam’s way of saying that too many unexpected things could happen. Friends and family dropping by...UPS drivers delivering packages...anything that could result in Tim and Pam losing control of the situation.

  “Why don’t we arrange for a home visit, Tim? We could get them as they walked in the door.”

  “I guess it depends if they have kids. I really don’t want to do a home invasion and traumatize any kids,” Tim said.

  “That’s what I love about you, Tim. You’re so fucking considerate. Our lives are on the line, but you’re worried about giving some kid a nightmare.” Pam was laughing as she said this, but she was completely serious.

  “Let me see if I can find out where these two live, assuming they do live together,” Pam added as she typed more information into the database. As an active agent, Pam had access to personal information that a marketing executive would die for.

  “Wow!” she exclaimed after a few seconds. “These two live in a really exclusive community. A gated one, but that shou
ld not be a problem. Perhaps we should get them before they head out for work.”

  “No, we get them as they’re going into their office. That way, no one gets suspicious.”

  “Shit, Tim, now that we know where they live, let’s just drive over there in the morning, knock on the door, and walk right in.”

  Pam’s plan was so simple that Tim felt stupid for not thinking of it before.

  He was about to start making plans for the Sunday morning visit when Pam’s iPhone began to ring. Pam had left the phone on the coffee table, and Tim picked it up before Pam could reach it. The phone indicated that Sebastian was calling.

  “Give me my phone, Tim!”

  “Cool down, Pam, and think for a minute. I guarantee you Sebastian will call back.”

  “Think about what, Tim? I need to know what’s going on!”

  “What’s going on, Pam, is that Sebastian is setting a trap for us. He will first apologize for not picking up the phone when you called, then tell you that everything is okay. He will invite himself over tomorrow and offer to take us out for lunch or something, but as soon as we leave this property, you, me, and most likely Mary Ann, assuming she is not already dead, will be murdered. The three of us will be blamed for poisoning the President, and they will use that goddamn fork I made as evidence.”

  “Well, you have it all worked out, smart guy, but has it occurred to you that just maybe you’re wrong about everything?”

  Tim was getting frustrated. “All I know is that the President of the United States is in the process of being murdered, and the perpetrators are going to need someone to blame. I am just a retired Agency drunk...but you, Pam, you are a star. And they are going to need a star to blame all of this on.”

  Pam’s iPhone rang again, and Tim handed it back to her. “Go ahead, answer it.”

  Pam took the iPhone from Tim and walked to the back of the house. “Sebastian? Where in the hell—”

  That was all Tim heard as Pam entered the sunroom and closed the door behind her. Two minutes later, she returned and sat down next to Tim.

  “Sebastian said almost exactly what you said he would, Tim. He told me that everything was okay and that Ajacks had decided to start the plan sooner than he expected. He told me that the President has been admitted to Bethesda Naval Hospital. Next he said that he wanted to come over Sunday and take you, me, and Mary Ann out to lunch.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  Pam laughed. “I told him that you and I would be spending the day in bed and for him not to come over until Monday. He really did sound disappointed and next suggested dinner, but I held firm and told him Monday.”

  “You know he may come over anyway.”

  “Yes, that did occur to me...but you and I do have a date with Lockwood and Justice.”

  Tim’s iPhone began to make sounds suddenly, alerts as to some kind of news event. Tim looked down at his phone and saw that CNN was reporting that the President had been admitted to Bethesda Naval Hospital for an unknown condition. Next, Tim received a similar alert from the Washington Post. And ones from the New York Times, Fox News, NBC, ABC, and CBS. Then the BBC reported. Pam was receiving similar notifications. She looked at Tim.

  “Well, I guess the news is out there now.”

  Chapter 24

  Neither Pam nor Tim was particularly hungry, but they knew that eating was important. They both decided on BLTs, so Tim started to fry up some bacon. Meanwhile, Darrel came into the kitchen to ask if everything was okay. Pam said that it was, but she did need to speak with him, and they both walked outside. Tim wondered what Pam might need to tell Darrel that she could not say in front of him and asked her about it when she returned.

  “Darrel takes orders from me, Tim, and me alone. If I started giving him orders in front of you, then he might become suspicious I was being coerced.”

  “Okay, I get it. So, what orders have you given Darrel?”

  “I told him that we’re on total lockdown until Sunday morning, which means nobody gets in.”

  “Or out?” Tim asked.

  “Now why would you want to leave here on such a dark and stormy night?”

  Pam was kidding, since it was a very pleasant evening for the first week of March. But it showed Tim that she was getting her sense of humor back, which meant that Pam was beginning to relax.

  Pam stuck her head in the refrigerator and began to remove items, then started chopping some lettuce and tomatoes for the sandwiches. “So, Tim, you mentioned a while back that you were beginning to have some doubts about your retrograde amnesia diagnosis?” she asked.

  “Did you ever meet my neurologist, Pam?”

  “I remember a little skinny man who seemed to have lots of nervous energy hanging around your hospital bed. Was that the guy?”

  “Sounds like him. Anyways, he was found dead over in Fells Point Friday night.”

  Pam stopped chopping the lettuce for a second and looked at Tim. “When was the last time you had an appointment with him?”

  “The day Sebastian revealed himself. As a matter of fact, Sebastian and Toby met me in the hallway outside his office.”

  “What did you and your doctor...”

  “Dr. Gray,” Tim supplied.

  “What did you and Dr. Gray speak about during your appointment?”

  “I made the appointment mostly because I was concerned about my mental state. I was apparently behaving rather bizarrely but had no memory of it.”

  “Oh, was that the time you ended up in the John Hopkins Psychiatric Ward?”

  “You heard about that?” Tim asked in surprise.

  “I heard that they caught you running up and down some street in Baltimore screaming your head off. I thought that you had finally gone around the bend, honey,” Pam said with a sigh.

  “Hey, I was afraid I had dementia like your father, Pam.”

  Pam’s father’s illness was a very sensitive subject. She’d never visited her father after he had been diagnosed, which was a sore subject with the rest of Pam’s family. Pam was also terrified that she would also develop the disease one day. Tim, of course, knew all of this and was aware that he needed to tiptoe around the subject.

  “But Dr. Gray did not see any evidence of brain damage,” he continued. “As a matter of fact, he commented that I appeared to have the brain of someone in their late 30s.”

  Pam continued to make dinner but appeared otherwise lost in thought. Tim thought that his wife was most likely revisiting her father’s illness, beginning when he simply began to repeat himself. Pam’s father’s mental capacity quickly began to decline after that.

  Tim knew that thinking about dementia would send Pam into a funk and was mad at himself for even mentioning it. “Earth to Pam, Earth to Pam,” he said.

  Pam looked at him. “I’m with you, Tim. Dr. Gray said you had the brain of a teenager.”

  “A thirty-year-old, Pam, but yes, that’s what he said. He also said that people’s brains tend to shrink over time, but my brain had not. But who knows? Maybe it was all complete bullshit.”

  “Okay, but I still don’t get your point. You went to your neurologist, and now he’s dead. What’s the connection?”

  “Who told you about my amnesia, Pam?”

  “Sebastian told me when I visited you at John Hopkins. You had no clue who I was. You had no clue who Sebastian was. You also had no clue who you were.” Pam pointed her finger at Tim as she said this.

  “Pam, what happened to me in China?” Tim asked.

  “You were in an automobile accident, Tim.”

  “How do you know that, Pam? Were you there when the accident happened?”

  “No, I had gone ahead.”

  “So how do you know I was in an accident?”

  Pam frowned. “Sebastian was able to get a message to me.”

  “What kind of message? I mean, what did he say, Pam?”

  “He said that you and he had been in an accident. He said that you were driving.”

  �
�I did not have an international driver’s license. I was not supposed to be driving.”

  “Well, it would not have been the first time you broke the rules, Tim,” Pam answered sharply.

  “True, but not this time,” Tim answered. “But you did shoot Ms. Lin, didn’t you, Pam?”

  “Yes, but only because I was not planning on spending the rest of my life in a Chinese prison.”

  “And Sebastian told me that you were saving my life, Pam.”

  “Well, she did have the gun pointed at you, darling.”

  Pam had finished putting together the lettuce and tomato and bacon. “The sandwiches will be ready in ten minutes,” she announced as she placed some slices of bread in the toaster. “Let’s have another drink in the meantime.”

  Tim mixed two vodka martinis and sat down opposite Pam in the library.

  “So, Tim, cut to the chase,” she demanded. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “What I’m trying to tell you, Pam, is that I was not in any traffic accident in China. I was drugged by Sebastian. As a matter of fact, I have been drugged for the last two years. I have been drugged since I returned from China by the late Dr. Gray. He was giving me Propofol without my knowledge.”

  “What is Propofol?” Pam asked.

  “It’s a drug used to put people to sleep, but a recent drug test found that I appeared to have quite a lot of it in my system. Apparently, Dr. Gray was administering it to me in timed-release capsules. Propofol also has quite the effect on the memory, Pam. Almost like amnesia.”

  Pam looked at Tim incredulously. “I’m not sure if I like your tone of voice, Tim. Are you suggesting that I had a role in this plot?”

  “I don’t know, Pam. You’ll have to tell me. I was told that you were dead. Why?”

  “Because I wanted you out of my fucking life, Tim. You and your constant whining and complaining. You were holding me back. No one would give me a chance for any station manager position because they all knew that if they hired me, they also got fucking you.”