Duty With Honor Book Five: An Unexpected Pause

by Jordan Bollinger

  "What do you want to do?"

  "Turn off the alarm system before you answer the door. And leave it off. I'm going to slip out the back and meet John. Then we'll go get Beth's reluctant friends and ask them to join us -- through the back door. Jack wait two seconds, then call John's cell."

  Drew tossed another cell phone to Beth and said, "Just put the phone over there, behind the flowers and put speaker phone on. We'll have his phone, so we can hear what's going on in here."

  "Okay, Andy."

  "And Jack, don't let anything happen to the girls."

  "I know," Beth said, staring at Drew, with a scowl, "you didn't just say 'girls', did you?"

  "My apologies, ladies," Andrew said. Then he grinned at Beth and walked out.

  *****

  Heels clicked on the slate walk, there was the sound of soles scraping on the flagstone step, and the doorbell rang. Beth watched, as Jack slipped his right hand around the gun, nestled in his jacket pocket, and headed out to the foyer to answer the door.

  She looked at Ruth, and mouthed, "Just stay calm." Ruth nodded, just as the sounds of a scuffle came from the foyer. They faced the entryway, confident that Jack would be bringing their guest into the living room.

  So, both women let out audible gasps when it was the stranger who strong-armed Jack into the room and shoved him into a chair. Then he released the magazine from Jack's gun and tossed it in one corner of the room, and the gun in another.

  Beth examined Jack. Aside from his lip bleeding a bit, he didn't look hurt. But, she couldn't tell if he had another backup weapon on him or not. She was going to have to assume he didn't, and work from there.

  She gave Ruth, what she hoped was, a reassuring look, and cried out, "Who the hell are you? And what do you think you're doing? This is my house!"

  "I'm the one with the gun!" The man shouted back. "Now, shut up and listen. I want the pen."

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," she answered. Then she turned to Jack, and in a bit louder voice, asked, "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine. The jerk just cold-cocked me. I barely got the door unlocked, when he shoved his way in, stunned me, and got my gun."

  The intruder repeated, "I want it. I know you have it. The sooner you give it to me, the sooner this will all be over -- for all of you."

  "I still don't have a clue what you're going on about."

  "Just give it to me!" he screamed. Then he looked around, and asked, "Where's the other man -- the man that was with you in New Orleans?"

  "My husband? The bitch that came after me shot him."

  "But, I saw the two of you leave. I followed you to the airport. I almost lost you, but then I caught sight of you two in a different car, and went after you. So, where is he?"

  "I told you, he's dead. It's true, I did get him to Jack's, but it was too late. The doctor couldn't save him." She sighed and then added, "It was coated with something -- some type of toxin."

  "I want the fountain pen -- now!"

  "I told you I don't know what you're talking about."

  "You do too. You know where it is. Give it to me."

  Beth pulled out their bogus pen and held it up. "Is this what you want?"

  "Yes," the man said, as he reached out and tried to snatch it from her.

  Then, with a little bit of blind inspiration, she took one of the little tubes of the craft beads from her pocket, uncapped it, and showered them at the man, saying, "Or, are these what you want?"

  Their intruder blanched, as several of the tiny silver balls hit his face and hand. More bounced off the floor and caught in the cuff of his slacks, and in the laces of his shoes.

  "They're probably coated with the same thing that killed Drew."

  "Are you crazy? Didn't you learn anything from your husband's death!" The man screamed, as he tried to get as far away from the ball bearings now littering the floor.

  "Why should we just sit here and let you kill us? You can't seriously think we believe you're going to just walk out with that death pen without killing us. You seem to think it's all right to kill whoever you want to? You don't even have any compunction about killing people you think might be someone on your list? You murdered seven innocent women trying to kill me. You didn't think about them? Why should I think about you?"

  "That idiot -- Burton-Smythe should have killed you when he had the chance."

  "But, he didn't. And you came here, to my house, after me. You want to play hard ball? Well, you're in my yard, playing with my ball, now. So, let's get the game started!"

  "You stupid bitch!" Their intruder screamed, as he shook his pants legs and kicked his feet in an attempt to rid himself of the silver pellets.

  "Really!" Andrew said, as he propelled Beth's 'friend' and a much older, stern looking man, moving them along by thrusting a gun in their backs. "Is that any way to speak to a lady? Especially when you're a guest in her home?"

  John followed closely behind, carrying his own gun, along with two other weapons.

  "Sit!" Drew told them. Jack pulled the first man over to a chair, relieved him of his weapon and then went to reclaim the pieces of his own. While Andrew indicated the ends of the couch. John stood behind them, in the center.

  "Now, who wants to speak first?"

  The oldest man hissed, "No one say anything. They can't do anything to us. We haven't done anything."

  The other two seemed to be considering this, when Helen walked in and said, "The police are on their way."

  "Someone better start talking," Beth said. "And, as far as you not having done anything...let's see, there's violations of the Secrets Act, conspiracy, espionage...oh, and murder -- seven murders that we know about."

  "We didn't murder anyone," the old man sneered.

  "Yes," Jack's friend chimed in. "We weren't even in any of the places where those women were strangled."

  "Really?"

  "We don't know anything about anything."

  "Then how is it you knew the women were strangled?" Jack asked, grinning.

  "We read about them."

  "I see. You must spend an awful lot of time reading foreign newspapers -- because it's not as if they were killed in the same place. And, as far as I know, the four countries haven't realized that they were connected. So, you must be clairvoyant."

  He snickered and added, "And you won't have any trouble explaining why you all stormed in here, will you?"

  The man that had knocked on the door jumped up, pointed to the floor, and, in a panicky voice, said, "It doesn't matter. Look around you. She spilled the pellets all over. We're all probably going to die."

  "Now," Beth said, this time in a sweet, soothing voice, "I want the answers to my questions. My house -- my rules. Remember? First, who are you all?"

  "Don't say anything. They can't prove anything. All you have to do is just keep your mouths shut."

  "You," Beth said, pointing at the oldest man, who seemed to be the one in charge, "annoy me. So, you follow your own advice, and shut up."

  She stood up and went over to her friend, and said, "Why don't you tell us about yourself, Burton-Smythe?"

  "You told her your name?"

  "Now, didn't I say for you to be quiet? And, no he didn't. But he," she said pointing to Jack's assailant, "did. Don't make me have one of the men gag you. Because, I will."

  She turned back to her friend, and began again, "Now, Mr. Jarvis Burton-Smythe. We know you work in the public relations department for Vauxhall Cross. We know you got hold of a piece of micro film. We even know what drove you to take the leap from being a mild-mannered, law abiding citizen to work against the crown. So, why don't you fill in the gaps?"

  "I...ah...I didn't...I told you...the truth...about my wife. That's why. The police didn't do anything. The government supports the police. So, the government needs to come down."

  "So, you were supposed to kill everyone on your list, using the ricin pellets?"

  "Yes...I was...but...I--"

  "Shut up! They can't
do anything to us if we keep quiet!"

  "I don't want to be quiet. I want to tell them." He looked at Beth, and said, "It's true, I was supposed to kill you. I followed you to the cemetery -- to figure out if I could kill you there but I decided it was too risky

  "But, except for the day Andrew showed up, we were always alone," Beth said.

  "I know. I wasn't happy about that pellet gun. It frightened me. So, I wanted to get comfortable about being there with you. I thought we'd talk, and you'd let your guard down. And then I'd strike. You're right, there was never anyone else around."

  "So, why am I still alive?"

  "Because," he answered, swallowing hard, "I got to know you. I saw your pain. I read the letter you left. We...Mary and I...we lost a child. After that I couldn't...I... I just couldn't," he told her. He was ashen-faced and really did look repentant.

  But, Beth couldn't go soft. She merely nodded for him to continue.

  "And then I lost the pen. The pen -- with the list, and the weapon, and everything. Even that last morning, I was only trying to drug you, so I could get the pen back. I wouldn't have killed you. But you didn't drink the hot chocolate, or at least not enough to put you to sleep."

  "What hot cocoa?" Drew piped in.

  Beth frowned at him and said, "I forgot about the cocoa. It was that last morning. The day after you were at the cemetery. He gave me a cup of hot chocolate. But, I didn't even sip any of it. I might be green -- but I'm not that green."

  "But why didn't you mention it?"

  "I told you, I forgot all about it."

  "Well..."

  Elizabeth made a face at him, and returned to Burton-Smythe. "Did you even find out about the people on your list?"

  "No," he answered, shaking his head. "I was upset about Mary...about how the officials did nothing...but, once I got involved. Once I was told to kill people, I didn't like it. I decided I'd just do one name at a time -- and try not to think about it."

  "Do you even know who I am?"

  "You're Elizabeth Oliver -- the first person on the list. You work for MI-6. The idea was that you were passing information and were killed to plug up the leak before they were on to you."

  "And that's all you bothered to find out?"

  "I told you, I regretted my decision -- my involvement. I didn't want to know anything about anyone on the list. And then I spoke to you -- and it made everything worse. I knew Mary wouldn't want me doing this. But, I couldn't extricate myself. I'd taken the list. I'd passed it on. And, I knew my finger prints were on the pen."

  Elizabeth looked at the older man. "Just answer our questions. What about you? Did you even examine the list? Read the names and find out anything about the people?"

  "No," Burton-Smythe sobbed. "I thought maybe if I got the pen back, and promised not to say anything, he'd," gesturing to the crotchety old man, "let me off -- at least, in the actual killing."

  "Well, the second names on the list -- General and Mrs. Morgan -- they raised me. They're a retired couple in their seventies, living in San Diego. They have nothing to do with MI-6."

  At this, Ruth looked away, and Beth hoped no one else noticed. After all, her folks didn't belong to MI-6. She wasn't lying -- exactly. They did know her father and Sir Anthony, and so might know something they shouldn't. But these jerks didn't need to know that.

  "You don't even have a NOC list. You are simply too stupid and too dangerous to remain alive. Originally, I thought we'd take you into custody. But, now...I'm not so sure. Perhaps, it would be better if you all just disappeared."

  "You can't do anything to us," the old man screamed. "This is America. You can't take the law into your own hands."

  Beth shook head from side to side, and said, "Maybe we can...maybe we can't. The thing is that's our decision -- not you. After all, what makes you so special? Why do you think you can do whatever you want? Kill whomever you want? And then cry foul?"

  He looked at Andrew, and asked, "Are you just going to stand there and let her make all the decisions? What kind of man are you, anyway?"

  Jack grinned, groaned, and shook his head. But Drew gave the man an evil grin. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he said. "I don't think you should have said that. Beth, and Ruth, as well, are very strong and determined women. Women who don't appreciate male chauvinism. Before you said that, she might have agreed to turn you over to the local authorities. But not now."

  Jack peeped out a window, and said, "Andrew, you and John take them into the study. The police are here and... Oh shit!"

  "What's the matter," Drew asked.

  "It's our old friend, Officer Johnson. And he wasn't particularly happy with me the last time we spoke."

  Beth looked at him, and said, "But Officer Johnson is a sweetheart."

  "Yeah," Jack moaned, "he was right up until I doped his coffee -- not enough to knock him out, just slow him down a bit."

  "Jack! Don't tell me you slipped him a Mickey. But why?"

  "Because, he wanted to call in his superiors, and a detective, and a forensic team. He wasn't picking up on the 'I'll take care of everything' line I was telling him."

  "I swear, Jack, I'm going to take that chloral hydrate away from you. First me, then him, and then me again in Washington."

  "The first time was not my fault. Andy told me to make your stupid ex-husband a drink to put him to sleep, and I did. How the hell was I supposed to know he didn't drink scotch? Then you just snatched it out of my hand and started drinking it before I could stop you. Later, after you'd passed out, we figured you probably needed the rest."

  "So how did I wake up on the plane as it was about to land at Heathrow?"

  "Because of your sweetheart -- Officer Johnson. He was sure you and your father were justified in the killings, but...blah, blah, blah. It just seemed easier to slow him down, and get you all the hell out of Dodge."

  "I see..." she shook her head, and added, "Helen, let the officer in and then put on a pot of coffee. Jack, maybe you better go into the study and send Drew back out."

  "Yeah," he agreed. Then he said, "And, Helen, if you have time, I'm going to need more muffins."

  "Just go..."

  Chapter Fifty

  "Officer Johnson," Beth gushed, "how lovely to see you again. I'm so sorry that Helen called. I've been very ill this last year, and I fell. I just stumbled, really, over the cat. But she must have heard me cry out and thought I had fallen and just panicked."

  He looked all around the foyer and living room, and then from Beth to Helen and back. "Yes, I saw your man in town. He told me you were expected for Christmas. I saw him again just after Thanksgiving and heard you weren't going to be able to fly, because you were pregnant, and then later that you lost the child. I'm very sorry."

  "Thank you," she said. It was the first time a stranger had spoken to her about James' death. But, she was all right. That awful hollow pain had gone.

  "Well, if you're sure everything's all right..." He wasn't moving towards the door, though. "You know, you and your husband and father ran out on me last time. The friend -- the one from the CIA -- drugged me. I was in trouble with my superiors. At least, until someone from Langley called my captain."

  "I'm sure Jack didn't do anything to make problems for you. Whatever he did, he only did what he thought was best at the time."

  "Oh, I'm sure. But still," he said, looking around again, "I would like to get a chance to talk with him about it sometime."

  "Well, I'm sure Jack will be here sometime in the future. Perhaps, you could come for drinks, or even dinner."

  "That would be nice. I'll look forward to it." He stepped closer to the door, and was reaching for the doorknob, when he stopped, looked Beth squarely in her eyes, and said, "You know, there's a car parked down the road. Just beyond where it curves. It's a rental car. That wouldn't belong to you, would it?"

  "A rental car..." she purred. "Why no. Our cars are here. And, the car I rented at the airport is in the garage."

  "Well, if you don't know anything abo
ut it..." he said, watching her closely, "I'll call for a tow truck. It's in a dangerous place. We wouldn't want to cause an accident."

  He tipped his trooper's hat to Beth, and stepped out onto the flagstone step. Then he stopped, turned back and said, "And be sure to tell Mr. Lloyd that I want to talk with him -- whenever you see him again." To Beth's amazement, he gave her a conspiratorial wink and then walked back to his squad car.

  Elizabeth shut the door, and watched from the sidelight, as he sat in his car and used the radio. But, once he was finished calling for the tow truck, he slammed his car door and drove away.

  *****

  "All clear," Beth called through the kitchen door. She saw that somehow, Helen already had another batch of muffins in the oven. She thought about asking her just how she managed that, but decided against it.

  Jack and Andrew came out of the study, with Jarvis Burton-Smythe between them. As they passed on to the front of the house, Helen said, "I'll be right out with fresh coffee. Your muffins will be a few minutes."

  "Thank you, Helen. You are an angel," Jack said, with a grin. He must have caught the smirk on Ruth's face, because he added, "But, I'm already taken."

  "That's all right, Mr. Jack," Helen giggled, "so am I."

  "Where are the others?" Beth asked.

  "They're all tied up. John has some very strong zip ties he uses gardening."

  "I see. Well," she motioned to Burton-Smythe, "come along. Let's see what you have to say for yourself."

  She waited until Andrew had settled on the end of the couch so his bad shoulder was in the corner and then she dropped down close beside him. Then, after Burton-Smythe sat in one of the chairs, and Jack drew up the desk chair close behind him, and asked, "Well?"

  "I went to work for Vauxhall Cross public relations after Mary was first killed. I thought the police were going to punish the murderer. But, then I found out how the system works. The thieves and murderers have all the rights. They are the ones the government protects."

  "I know it seems like that, sometimes," Beth told him, "but you know that's not really true."