“Tell me what you want, and it will be done.”
His patient was nearly thirteen-years old before the modifications were completed at the lodge. The timing was perfect, as the state of New York informed Straus that many of the buildings that comprised the Hilburn campus were already being leased to start-up companies. The main building was to remain open until all the patients were placed in community group homes, smaller state-run facilities, or psychiatric hospitals. What happened, however, was that some of the patients that once called Hilburn home were simply released into the public and left, for the most part, to fend for themselves.
Most of the Hilburn staff were offered transfers or early retirement packages. Straus and his core team were all given the choice of transfer or to accept a rather healthy severance package. Curtis and Straus took the severance while Lucietta accepted a transfer to a state hospital in Manhattan.
Straus’s favorite nurse, Michelle Pettingal had resigned her position when Alex was only three years old. Though she never admitted it, Straus learned that she had married Doctor Stanley Mix and had moved somewhere in Upstate New York. Straus tried to keep track of Michelle as his desire to “have” her remained. But that desire eventually faded, and Michelle became nothing more than a pleasant memory.
On her last day of work, Straus made sure that Michelle would honor her commitment of keeping the story of Alexander Black quiet.
“I won’t say anything, Doctor. Honestly, no one would believe my story, and I would rather just forget everything about this place.”
The outlook of being forgotten struck Straus deeply. After all he had done for her, how could she simply “forget” him? He had suspected that Stanley Mix and she were keeping in contact but never thought their contacts would turn romantic.
“I hope you keep your promise, Nurse Pettingal,” he said to her as she handed in her staff badge and completed her exit interview. “But I do hope that you retain some pleasant memories of our time here together.”
His time in the lodge, though confined to two rooms for the first several months, was when he began designing, testing, and refining his plan. While he continued acting as the willing associate to Straus and those who remained a part of his team, he continually looked for opportunities to expand specific knowledge. He knew that, despite his intelligence, he would be lost in the world. He lacked the skills needed to blend in, to properly engage others, even to find sustenance. He knew that his plan needed time, and time demands patience.
The first time he was allowed to leave the walls of the lodge was at night. The night sky was brilliantly clear. He sat on the damp grass behind the lodge and stared up at the stars for well over an hour, saying nothing and remaining perfectly still. He had read about stars, about constellations and the folk tales surrounding them. He had studied the moon and the planets, and had read several books filled with theories and speculations about the universe. As he sat, staring up at the night sky, he grew more convinced that life could not be learned from a book. That no matter how talented a writer may be, describing the simple light of a star with words was as futile as him trying to escape and live in the world he had only read about. That night, he decided how his plan would conclude. He also decided that the first steps of his plan were still many years away.
Over the years, he often asked to be allowed to walk to the shore of Piseco Lake. Each request was denied.
“There are too many risks involved, Alexander. While we have grown to trust you, we don’t trust what others may do if they see you. I hate to have to remind you of this, but your appearance, Alexander, you don’t look like the others.”
He knew what he looked like, and he knew that his appearance would certainly disturb the public. He had been told, countless times, that the public would never understand him. They would, out of fear, restrain him and subject him to tests, much more severe and invasive that what he had grown accustomed to.
As the years rolled past, he continued to expand his understanding of the world outside of the lodge. Occasionally, he earned the reward of going outside, feeling the sun warming his face, watching a storm cloud releasing its anger, or seeing the stars, reminding him of their mysteries.
As Straus had planned, the lodge became a popular place for big city doctors to spend their vacations. During the summer and fall months, it was common for Straus to have at least one guest staying in the guest rooms, one floor above his rooms. Each guest was told the same thing about him.
“I have a patient who lives here year round. He is an especially challenging and interesting patient; highly agoraphobic, paranoid, and extremely private. He pays me to ensure that he is left alone. I ask that you understand and respect his wishes and that you do not enter the first floor hallway. I assure you, he is as harmless as a butterfly, but his emotional stability would, I fear, crumble if anyone he hasn’t learned to trust makes contact with him.”
The few times that all of the lodge’s rooms were filled with guests, he was sedated and either kept in his bedroom or relocated to a rented cottage in the nearby hamlet of Oxbow Lake. The days in the cottage were usually spent unconscious and always included an armed guard who liked to promise him that he would not hesitate in the use of his gun.
“I don’t know what your story is, and I don’t care. If Straus wants to pay me to babysit you for a few days, so be it. But I promise you that if you try anything, your head will explode.”
He was strapped to the cottage’s bed and secured with enough rope and wire to make any attempted escape impossible. And all the while he would lay in the bed, his babysitter would sit a few yards away, pointing his high powered rifle towards his head and telling him what a freak he was.
As unpleasant as those days were, he used them as opportunities to study and to learn. The more exposure he had to the world and to those who lived in the world, the closer he became to fulfilling his plan.
For him, the passage of the years did not bring him closer to his own end but rather to his own beginning. The more agreeable he was, the more rewards and privileges he was given.
Several weeks before his plan was launched, Straus awarded him with a privilege that seemed too perfect in its timing.
“Alex, I know how much you want to go outside. To go feel the lake as you have wished for. As long as you agree to my terms, I will allow you to walk with me to the lake. But I assure you, if you do anything that I even remotely think is an attempt to leave, I’ll shock you.”
“Why would I try to leave, doctor? Where would I go?”
They had learned of the impact that electricity, of being shocked, had on him. They were amazed at how quickly and how powerfully the slightest jolt would drop him to his knees.
“I need you to attach this to your ankle. Make it tight.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s a training device for dogs. I’m sorry, but if you want more to earn more privileges, you have to agree to my terms.”
“Which ankle?”
Straus waited a few hours until Jacob Curtis joined him at the lodge. He wanted to be sure he had a backup in case his patient was able to subdue him.
“Jacob, I need you to make sure that no one is around. I want to take Alex outside, but I don’t want anyone seeing him. All I need is for some local to start talking about the ‘gray guy walking around Straus’s lodge.’”
Jacob Curtis was gone for no more than a minute before returning.
“Can’t see anyone. Rain is keeping people inside, I suppose.”
Once Straus confirmed that Alex had tightly placed the shock collar on his ankle, he reminded Alex of his expectations.
“Now Alex, this is a privilege. I hope you understand the risks I am taking.”
“I do, Doctor Straus.”
“It’s raining out which will make the shock from that collar a bit more severe, so I really hope you don’t do anything to warrant its use. Just stay with Doctor Curtis and me, don’t speak to anyone who may show up, and, for God’s s
ake, don’t try to run or swim away.”
“I can’t swim, Doctor Straus, and I have nowhere to run to and nothing to run from,” he answered.
The gray sky matched his complexion. The light rain that was falling felt wonderful against his sensitive skin. Together with the two doctors, he walked down the narrow path that led to Piseco Lake’s shore. Once at the water, he bent over and splashed water onto his face and arms. He loved how the cool water sent shivers racing throughout his body and wondered how it would feel if his whole body was submerged. He knew that he could easily jump into the water and remain submerged for hours, but he also knew how quickly Doctor Straus would press the button and send a shock throughout his body.
“Alex?” Jacob Curtis called from a few yards away. “I don’t like how quiet you are.”
“I am just enjoying this immensely, Doctor. Nothing to be concerned about.”
He had felt shocks before. Doctor Lucietta was the first to use them as treatment many years ago and was also the one who first discovered how they debilitated him. Shocks were not only painful for him, but they disrupted his thoughts and ability to function for days.
They allowed him to stay at the water’s edge for nearly twenty minutes before suggesting they “head back and get in out of the rain.”
“Very well, Doctors. And thank you for this privilege,” he complied.
Neither he or the doctors saw the young man approaching them, but there he was, smack dab in the middle of the road separating the lodge from the lake. He seemed like the nervous type, the type that Straus would enjoy having as a patient. And had Straus been alone during this encounter, he might have offered his business card and a suggestion that the stranger contact him for an appointment.
But now was not the time to advance a career. Straus and Curtis stood as if they were catatonic as the young man stood staring at the gray man walking up from the path. As the stranger moved closer, Straus thought that he looked familiar but couldn’t place the face.
“Good day,” the young man offered, his eyes now less intense. “Not the best day for a hike, is it?”
“Just a short walk to the lake. No hiking today.” Curtis said.
“Well, stay dry,” the young man said.
“You too,” Curtis said. “We should be getting inside now. Take care.”
The young man stared at Alexander, and the doctors noticed that he was staring back at the young man. There was no look of terror on the young man’s face, only intrigue.
“You must excuse us,” Straus said. “Our patient hasn’t been feeling well. We need to get him back into his bed. Good day.”
“Hope you feel better,” the young man said as he continued his trek down the road.
When he was far enough away, Straus whispered with an intensity unfitting for a whisper, “Inside. Now!”
But his patient just stood, not moving. He was looking at the stranger getting smaller with distance.
“Alex, inside now, or by God, I’ll press this button.”
“I doubt that, doctor Straus. Doing so would create a scene that may attract the attention of that strange young man as well as the attention of anyone who may be glancing out of their windows. I am not planning on doing anything foolish. I just realized that the man I just saw was the first person I’ve heard speak besides your team.”
“Well,” Straus said, collecting himself and shifting his gaze to see if any neighbors were looking out of their windows, “I appreciate your behavior, Alex. I truly do. And I also appreciate how you must be feeling. However, I know that you are fully aware of what people would think and do to you if they ever found out about you. With that in mind, Alex, why don’t we return to the safety of your rooms? I promise that the next time you earn the privilege of coming outside, we will do a much better job at making sure you will have your privacy. Sound fair enough?”
“Fair enough, Doctor,” he said as he shot a final glance towards the stranger who was now almost out of sight. “I must admit that that man’s reaction to me was not as drastic as I would have thought. Not like you suggested reactions would be.”
“You have no idea how he may be reacting. Imagine if he ran into you alone? Trust me, Alexander, that reaction is far from what you should expect. Now let’s get back inside where it’s safe.”
It was time for his plan to begin.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“This doesn’t make sense,” Derek said. “The timeframe. The note left for me at the car rental desk. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Now Derek,” Ralph said as he walked over to the counter to retrieve a fresh Arthur Avenue cigar and a book of matches, “this whole case is stuffed to the rim with things that don’t make much sense.” Ralph paused, introduced flame to his cigar’s end and was soon billowing out grayish smoke into the humid air of the Adirondack lodge’s entry way. “But, before we get further into discussing the finer points of this case, you said something that caught my interest.”
Derek had stood up and was tracing the scar of his left cheek gently with his fingers. He knew he was tired and that his mind wasn’t as sharp as he needed it to be. As he paced the entry area of the lodge, he struggled to piece together the time frame of the last several hours.
“Are you planning on pretending that I am not here in this same room as you or are you just building up something brilliant in that freelancing mind of yours?” Ralph said.
“I’m sorry. What did you ask me?”
“Actually I have yet to ask you anything, but I am fixin’ to as soon as you appear ready to be asked a question.”
“I just can’t figure this out. I must be missing something. But, go ahead and ask me your question.”
“You said during your little ramble a moment ago about some note that was left for you at the rental car desk. I sure would like to know what that note said and who gave it to you.”
The smoke from Ralph’s cigar was quickly replacing the fresh mountain air. Derek moved over to the main door, opened it, and took a deep breath of non-cigar smoke filled air.
“The note just said ‘Welcome to Albany, Mr. Cole,’ and I have no idea who wrote it. The only person who knows that I flew into Albany was my client.”
“Any chance your client left that note?” Ralph asked, thankful for the open door but not as thankful as he was for the finely crafted cigar he held between his stubby and overly hairy fingers.
“Possible, but doesn’t make any sense. If he left the note for me then he did so assuming that I would suspect that it was him.”
“Someone else must have known about your travel plans?”
“US Airways and Hertz. That’s about it.”
Ralph checked the time on his watch. “What time did your flight leave Chicago?” he asked.
“Just before ten last night.”
“And when did your plane land?”
“Around midnight. Got to the Hertz desk twenty minutes after that. I asked the clerk who the note came from but he had no idea. Think it could have been Alexander? But, how the hell would he know I was headed to Albany and was renting a car from Hertz? Had to have been my client or someone my client told that I was coming here. Must have been.”
Ralph drew softly on his cigar and watched Derek struggle to figure things out. For his entire working career, Ralph had been in law enforcement. He had developed the ability to read people that others who worked with him both envied and were cautious of.
Though he knew that allowing Derek access to information about the case would violate nearly every rule in the book, he also knew that his department lacked the resources and experience to solve the murders. The state police were involved and certainly didn’t need Ralph’s or his department’s assistance, but Ralph liked to see things through himself. He never liked when another department, be it a federal, state, or city department barged in and took over an investigation.
As Derek continued his thought-laden pacing, Ralph felt that Derek could be trusted and that there was something ab
out him, something that made breaking the protocols, rules, and standard operating procedures worth the risk.
“Well, let me ease your mind about one of the options you have. It wasn’t Alexander, and I’ll show you why.”
Ralph waved a single hand towards Derek, inviting that Derek follow. They walked deeper into the lodge, through the great room that in the daylight would offer spectacular views of Piseco Lake and the surrounding mountains. They finally came into a small, windowless room. The room was decorated with countless pictures of who Derek assumed to be William Straus.
Ralph took a seat behind the blonde wood desk that was entirely too large for the small room, opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a four-inch thick manila folder.
Heartless: a Derek Cole Mystery Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 1) Page 11