She crossed the room toward the data area, but stopped dead in the doorway. On a counter near the far wall sat two large red plastic packing crates that had not been there earlier.
Ignoring the hair standing up on the back of her neck, she stepped through the wide doorway into the data area. Now she could see down the length of the first counter. On the floor beside the crates stood a dolly that held a desktop computer. With a quick scan of the room, she located the computer’s former home, now a gaping hole sprouting wires and connectors beside one of the desks. Her eyes returned to the open crates. Her brain registered “robbery in progress.”
At that moment, the door to the electronics room banged open, and Raymond Bellfort stepped out carrying a server under each arm. He had a wild intensity about him. His face was purple, his hair and clothing disheveled. He slid one server onto the counter top. Then he placed the other into a crate. He reached for the first server.
Diane’s decision to turn and run came a split second too late; Bellfort sensed her presence and looked up. They made eye contact and held it.
Bellfort spoke first: “I didn’t know you were here.” His voice was half an octave too high.
Diane’s glance dropped involuntarily to the crates, then back up to his face. His eyes narrowed. She was in trouble. Raymond was stealing a computer and two servers from BRI, and it was her misfortune to catch him in the act.
Her knees went weak.
Bellfort was obviously a common thief as well as an embezzler. And, if he was murderer too, this encounter with him could prove fatal.
Raymond inched his way in her direction. He began talking—probably to distract her from the fact that he was closing the distance between them.
“Your boyfriend copied me in on that email he sent you,” he said in a tremulous voice. He stopped, pulled a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and swabbed his forehead. Then he chuckled and said. “Gabriel’s not a very good judge of human nature, is he?”
He shot Diane an icy smile. “You’re intuitive about people though, aren’t you Darlin’? You’d know what to expect from a man if he was placed in a situation where he had nothing left to lose. Wouldn’t you?”
Diane didn’t trust her voice. And she sensed that any display of fear would inflame his madness. She stood as silent and still as if she had encountered a cobra.
But her brain shifted into overdrive: Boyfriend? God, how she wished she’d read Gabriel’s email. Whatever he said, he had made Bellfort crazy; she needed to get out of there. But how? If she could get her shaking legs under control, she could turn and retrace her steps—through the doorway behind her, then a straight shot through the bench area, then only several yards across the hall and through the reception room to her office. She’d be safe there until help came. Even if Bellfort broke down her office door, he’d be no match for a pissed-off eighty pound dog.
She turned one foot tentatively to the right. But Bellfort detected the motion. In three strides he covered the distance to the far edge of the doorway, where he took up position. He smirked and said “Check.” He was toying with her and wanted to make sure she knew it.
Her move.
Bellfort watched her with the cunning of a leopard stalking a deer.
She took some quiet breaths and calmed herself. Any move toward the front door could place her within Bellfort’s striking distance. She needed a new strategy. The remaining exit was through the back door. But to get there, she had to negotiate a slalom course through the desk area, then around a counter and through Maggie… Maggie!
As far as Diane knew, Maggie’s operating system was still turned on. If she could make it that far, Maggie, as always, would see her as an intruder and set off the alarm. That would alert Wilbur who would call the police. Hopefully, Bellfort didn’t know how to turn the thing off.
It was now or never. Diane turned and bolted. She pivoted around the first desk, then the second.
Bellfort was caught flat-footed, but quickly did an about face and headed toward the back of the room. Even though Diane had a shorter distance to cover and was lighter on her feet, Raymond’s path to the other side of the lab held fewer obstacles.
Rounding the last desk, Diane looked up and saw Bellfort ahead of her, panting, blocking the way to Maggie. Her gambit had failed.
Again, he inched toward her. She glanced around. Not seeing any means of defending herself, she backed up a few steps.
Raymond’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “You shouldn’t run from me Darlin.’”
Diane’s mind reeled; she had heard that before—those exact words. But where? Then came the realization—the night of the break-in—the chimps in the trees—Oh My God!.
Bellfort continued moving her way. She retreated a few more steps.
Bellfort sneered. “Your lily-livered husband ran from me too.”
That got Diane’s attention. She held her position a moment.
Raymond Bellfort continued his taunt, “You didn’t know he was a coward did you? Not only a coward—a squealer too.” Bellfort’s voice had risen to the creepy childish pitch he had used on the chimpanzees that night.
Diane found her voice and spoke for the first time since walking into the lab. “That’s not true.”
“Ha! Too bad you weren’t on the boat to see how he turned off course and ran from me.”
Diane’s heart flipped over. She pictured Vincent on the video, clinging to the binnacle guard in that horrible weather, talking about another boat in the area. On camera, he reported that poor visibility made it necessary to alter course to avoid a collision.
Her mind screamed with the realization that it was Raymond Bellfort on the Maria V. He had stalked Vincent out at sea aboard the Carrera’s steel-hulled yacht and rammed him. And the sadistic sonofabitch had enjoyed every moment of it—just as he had reveled in clubbing the chimps at the so-called break-in and burning the rabbit at his prep school and torturing the macaque monkeys in the lab. Now she was his quarry, and he was loving every moment of it.
Raymond continued his taunt. “He had a couple opportunities to save himself, you know. He could have stopped squealing to Gabriel when I told him to. Then that day out there in the Gulf, if he hadn’t fallen on his face in the cockpit, he’d have had a chance to turn the boat away.” Bellfort laughed a joyful laugh. “But he never made it to the wheel.”
Diane couldn’t bear to hear any more. And it was probably only a matter of seconds until he’d attack. She had to attempt another escape to the front door. Mentally, she mapped out a shorter route through the desks. But then, stepping back a couple feet to position herself for the lunge, she noticed something in her peripheral vision. And her heart leaped.
Oh sweet irony! On the wall to her left hung the dart pistol and the golden dart. Raymond Bellfort had mounted them there on the display rack the Monday after the awards party aboard the Enterprise.
Initially, Diane had voiced her objection to paying homage to animal darting—while it was sometimes necessary, it didn’t need to be celebrated with a plaque. But then she caved in to Raymond’s insistence. And after a couple weeks, she stopped noticing the pistol on the wall.
She knew the dart was not loaded with a tranquilizer. But it could still be an effective weapon. She’d have to shoot to maim.
She planned her moves carefully—there was only one dart. She glared straight ahead at Bellfort, her eyes challenging him to move into her space.
Her change in demeanor halted Raymond’s approach.
Diane took a half step forward, aligning herself with the pistol rack, being very careful not to let her eyes telegraph her intention.
She’d have to make a quarter turn, grab the pistol and dart off the rack, turn back, load and aim.
She saw Bellfort glance at the wall that held the dart gun, then back at her. He may have been crazed, but he wasn’t stupid. He launched his attack.
In one smooth motion, Diane swiveled, snatched the gun and dart, turned back, loaded and lined up
the weapon on Bellfort’s crotch. He stopped dead two body lengths away from her.
She saw the terror in his eyes just before he dove behind a metal desk to her right. He screamed in pain when he hit the floor.
She hadn’t even fired the dart.
Bellfort slithered, scrambled and squeezed through knee holes and under tables, grunting his way through the maze. Then Diane heard a chair crash to the floor and realized he’d made it half way across the room.
She was free.
She could run through Maggie, set off the alarm then head down the backstairs and outside. Even if that monster chased after her, the pistol would keep him at bay.
She took a few steps toward Maggie, then stopped and looked at the dart gun in her hand. Something primitive switched on in her brain.
She stepped out of her shoes and turned into the room.
She crept through the desk rows, thinking about the night the chimps were set loose. Raymond Bellfort had wailed like a baby when Wilbur’s dart stuck him in the thigh. He had screamed for them to remove it, forgetting about the marauding chimps—the greater threat, by far.
She stopped a moment, readjusted the dart in the gun, then headed to the far end of the room.
David Crowley pulled the red jeep into his parking space at BRI. He stepped out, closed the door and almost had a heart attack; a figure was running towards him from the woods. He reached inside his jacket; then he recognized the corkscrew hair.
David eyed the man suspiciously. “Crissake, Michael, you about scared me to death. Slipping up on a person like that in Texas, you could get yourself shot. What’re you doing here? How’d you get in?”
“I came over the wall. My car’s out beside the road. Gabriel sent me to watch over Diane. I’ve been hangin’ around the neighborhood since yesterday.”
Michael pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered David one. He declined. Michael lit up, and they started toward the building.
While they walked, Michael told David about Gabriel’s encounter with Diane at the airport in Santa Marta. From their conversation, Gabriel had deduced that Raymond Bellfort killed Vincent Rose.
“That’s not the way I heard it,” David said.
“I swear Gabriel Carrera had nothing to do with Vincent Rose’s death. I was in New York with Gabriel that whole week.”
David didn’t respond.
“Listen, we have to join forces to keep an eye on Diane. Gabriel’s afraid she might be in jeopardy when Bellfort comes back. Gabriel said Diane would never accept my protection though. So I’ve had to skulk about.”
David wasn’t sure if he should believe Michael’s story. If he convinced Diane she should accept the bodyguard’s protection, it could be akin to letting the fox into the hen house.
The two men walked around to the bay side of the building while Michael finished his cigarette. He was stomping the butt on the ground when he looked out at the harbor. “Where did that come from?”
David looked where Michael was pointing. “What do you see?”
On the other side of the Enterprise—that smaller boat; it wasn’t there a bit ago”
David squinted and peered across the harbor. “Shit! That’s Bellfort’s runabout.”
Both men turned and ran for the building.
Diane rounded the corner of the counter and found Bellfort. He was on all fours, heading toward the electronics room door. It gladdened her heart to see him crawl.
She aimed the dart gun at him and waited.
He arrived at the door, reached up for the knob, then stopped and leaned his forehead against the wood. He knew she was there.
He tilted his head and looked up at her through the corner of his eye. “Don’t. Please don’t,” he said. There was panic in his voice. Hyperventilating, he rolled himself to a half-sitting position and held up one palm in a defensive posture. “I beg you, don’t.”
When Diane responded, her voice was filled with loathing. “Scared of a little dart, are we? I bet you’re afraid of shots too. Did you cry at military school when the nurse gave you your inoculations? I bet the other boys laughed at you, especially that boy with the rabbit. Did he call you a chicken? That’s what you are, aren’t you?—A big, fat chicken. A coward. And a thief and a murderer too—”
At that moment, David and Michael charged through the main door into the bench room. Diane’s head jerked toward the commotion.
In that split second, Raymond Bellfort made his move. His flight was fueled by terror. When Diane turned back, he was on his way to the exit. She tore after him.
Just as he made the turn to run through Maggie’s frame, Bellfort looked over his shoulder and smirked. Diane aimed the dart at his neck and fired. He ducked. The dart hit the wall and fell to the floor.
“Dammit!” Diane shouted and tossed the gun onto a desk.
Bellfort ran into the frame unimpeded. But he didn’t exit the door on the other side.
Maggie’s voice blared out, “Good bye Raymond Bellfort, Good bye Raymond Bellfort…”
When Diane reached Maggie, Bellfort was on the floor inside the frame. He made a gurgling sound and twitched, then he went still.
David and Michael arrived beside her. Maggie continued shouting her goodbyes to Raymond Bellfort. David stepped over and pressed “off” on the control screen.
Everything went silent except for Huck’s frenzied barking in the distance. David kicked off his shoes, and entered Maggie’s frame. He bent down and felt for Bellfort’s carotid pulse. Then he looked up at Diane. “He’s dead. Maggie must have grabbed his shoes. He hit his head.”
David made no effort at resuscitation.
Diane needed to be alone for awhile. She told the men she had to calm her frantic dog.
Her mind reeling, she found her shoes, then headed toward the main door muttering under her breath, “Checkmate, you bastard.”
μ CHAPTER FORTY FIVE μ
The island’s northern headland, where years before, Gabriel and his younger brother had lost scores of soccer balls into the sea, was the chosen field of honor.
Gale-sculpted boulders and twisted divi divi trees stood as witnesses. Clamorous trade winds served as the trumpet’s blare and the beat of the drum.
Carlos and Gabriel shouted off twenty paces, stopped, turned and raised their pistols. One of the men aimed wide, fired, then lowered his arm and remained in place.
The other understood. He closed his eyes momentarily to gather his resolve. Then he aimed carefully. And fired.
μ CHAPTER FORTY SIX μ
It was the third wet morning in a row, but the rain had finally diminished to a drizzle. Diane met Sara at a popular tourist spot on the edge of Galveston Bay. The merry-go-round was silent and the Ferris wheel and red and blue shuttle trains stood still. There was something melancholy about an amusement park in the rain.
The women stepped out of their cars and shook hands, then they hugged. Their destination was a cozy coffee shop at the other end of the boardwalk. But first Sara wanted to walk and talk.
Diane didn’t bother pulling up the hood on her slicker; she found the drizzle somehow cleansing.
“Are you okay?” Sara asked.
“I’m fine,” Diane lied.
Sara said, “Considering his hypertension, they feel that Bellfort had a stroke when he hit his head on the floor. I like to think of it as a death of convenience—the authorities would have had a hard time proving Raymond Belfort killed Vincent. The video was the only proof of foul play. And I’m sure he destroyed it a long time ago.”
Sara went on: “I’ve heard of double jeopardy, but this was double irony. First the dart gun, then Harry Lee reached up from the grave and unleashed the power of Maggie.”
Diane walked along silently, feeling that Sara’s comments didn’t require a response. They had talked about most of it a couple hours ago on the phone.
However, in recounting to Sara her near-death experience in the lab, she had neglected to mention that, when the advantage shifted
her way, she had spiraled into a murderous rage and was thrilled by the hunt.
Sara asked, “Do you know the origin of the phrase ‘the handwriting on the wall’”?
“It’s from the Bible, isn’t it?”
“Yes, the Old Testament. By deciphering handwriting on a wall, a man named Daniel was able to prophesize the downfall of Babylon to King Belshazzar.”
The women walked along mulling this over until Sara said: “I guess David told you about the BRI extortion mill.” She looked at Diane who nodded. Sara continued her story anyway.
“The Lab Rats found that BRI would entice scientists to come to Houston and bring their technologies with them. Once they were in their web and they had signed over their inventions, Bellfort and Everly would shop the products in the marketplace. They’d approach companies who stood to lose the most if the BRI products were released. Everly was a pro at shaking down people who were anxious to bury the new technologies.”
Sara went on to tell Diane about Leonard Everly’s indictment for the murder of Dr. Harry Lee. The authorities had plenty of evidence against him.
TekTranz had disclosed that they sometimes made payments to Everly using a second bank account. They apparently turned a blind eye to the fact that he was double dealing.
Sara added: “We checked that account and found he had an infusion of five million dollars two days after Harry Lee’s death. The money came from a bank in Bahrain. That Saudi account’s been closed, but we’re on the trail of its former owners. With that information, and now that we have Bellfort’s and Everly’s computers and Hu Lee’s testimony, a strong case can be made.”
The women stopped at a fish food dispenser and fed it some coins. They leaned on the rail and sprinkled the pellets into the water below.
Diane said, “I’ve decided to cancel my interview in Maine and stay on a little longer to clear things up here. Gabriel’s email placed me in charge of BRI. He asked that I oversee an audit of the books. That’s the least I can do. I was so cruel to him that day on his plane. I really don’t know how I’ll face him again.”
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