The Monolith Murders

by Lorne L. Bentley

  “But one thing, Fred—when did you first suspect Lewis?”

  “Well, actually,” Fred replied, “I initially suspected Slim Woods. However, after Anderson’s murder I started thinking about the events of that night. I remembered I had called Lewis and told him to go to AU to protect Anderson. I contacted him on his cell phone and he said good thing I had called his cell since he was in his personal car, and it had no police radio in it. He said that since he was a distance away from Sarasota, he would have to send Sergeant Stewart there. I was at the crime scene when Lewis arrived. He got no farther than the AU lobby, but his first words were, ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t get here in time to prevent Anderson’s death.’ The guard’s body was in plain sight, but Anderson’s body was back in the medical unit. That was not visible from the lobby, in fact it’s a separate room off the Science Division. Since he didn’t have the benefit of a police radio, there was no way Lewis could have known that Anderson was dead unless he was the murderer. Besides that, the time frame didn’t fit. Stewart said he had arrived at AU just minutes before I arrived, but Lewis had said that Stewart was only a couple of minutes away from the site. When I thought about it, I figured that Lewis must have gone directly to AU; and only after he completed his killings did he contact Stewart. Stewart became the perfect fall guy.

  “Oh yes one other thing. Lewis’ fingerprints were all over the trailer where Anderson had been kept captive. Lewis is an experienced homicide detective, so he knew better than to contaminate the crime scene. It was obvious that someone in that trailer had made an attempt to wipe all the prints, but Lewis couldn’t be certain he got them all. Perhaps because they had to leave in a hurry. So, in case he hadn’t succeeded in removing all his prints, he wanted to make sure that our officers believed he had blown it and that he had left his prints at the scene through investigative carelessness.”

  Jim asked, “Who do you believe murdered Mrs. Brown, Donna’s mother?”

  “Jim, I first thought it was Donna, because it really didn’t fit that it was a robbery attempt. I couldn’t figure why Donna wanted to murder her mother, though. Then, when I found out about Sue’s relationship to Donna, I concluded she had done it so that we couldn’t link her to Donna.”

  “What’s next, Fred?” Jim asked.

  “Now I can retrieve Maureen and the two of us can go back to leading a semi-normal life. However, there is one final thing I must accomplish while I’m at the CIA headquarters.”

  Chapter 69

  When Fred arrived at the compound, he asked for an immediate appointment with Mr. Shade. Unlike in his earlier meetings, Shade was delighted to meet with Fred. After all, even without the psychic chip, Fred had captured Donna virtually single-handed. His value to the agency, however, was effectively over now that his ESP powers were eliminated. But once a member of the agency, always a member. And although Fred would no longer be given any assignments, his accomplishment would never be forgotten.

  As Fred entered Shade’s office he was again greeted with a warm hug.

  Fred asked, “Should we tell our wives about us and get divorced, or will it remain a state secret?”

  At first, Shade didn’t react, but then he laughed. “Good one, Fred, good one.”

  Fred said, “I have one question; where is the device you removed from me?”

  “I see, you want to see it one more time for old times sake, huh? Well, with all that you’ve done for the agency, I don’t see a problem.”

  Shade buzzed his secretary. “Tell Dr. Cunningham to come and see me and have him bring the special device. He will know what that means.”

  In a short time Cunningham opened the office door with the device in hand. He said, “A marvelous piece of scientific accomplishment, isn’t it, Fred?”

  “What do you intend to do with it now?” Fred asked.

  “Why, we are already starting psychological tests on some good candidates. Too bad you had that tumor, or you could still be using it to our advantage.”

  “But this device has terrible side effects. Beyond the ESP powers it instilled in me, it also almost destroyed me. I no longer had any residual ethics or morality after its insertion.”

  “That’s just a freak situation, Fred. I’m sure it won’t happen to the next candidate, and we will make sure we fine-tune it in the interim. At any rate we need to continue to move ahead of our enemies, even if we might experience a slight risk in doing so.”

  Fred asked, “May I hold it, sir?”

  “Of course, Fred. I bet you got attached to its awesome power even for the short time you had it. So you’re saying goodbye to it for the last time?”

  “Yes, sir, as are you!” Fred threw the monolith down on the tiled floor as hard as he could and then started stamping on it with all his weight. All three men looked down to observe chunks and tiny pieces of metal and plastic scattered all over the floor.

  Shade said, “My god, I can’t believe you did this.”

  Fred said, “Well, I did. And if you ever try to prosecute me for getting rid of the little Frankenstein monster, I will notify all the newspapers what harm it has done.”

  At that point Fred turned toward the door. “Have a nice life, gentlemen.”

  Fred retrieved Maureen from their unit and both left the compound forever.

  * * *

  The next morning Fred and Maureen showed up in Jim’s office.

  “Jim, I just wanted to tell you that Maureen and I spent a lot of productive time together while we were in the D.C. area.”

  “And that means—?”

  “Well, our time together has paid off; initial indications are that we’re going to have a baby.”

  Jim said, “That’s great, male or female?”

  “It’s much too early to tell but we both hope it’s a girl.”

  “Well guys, if it’s a girl, name it whatever you want except for one name.”

  All three cried out in unison: “Donna!”

  Epilogue

  It was July 1st. Maureen had spent a long sultry week in Austin, Texas attending an ungodly boring professional psychiatric conference. Fred was eagerly waiting at the Sarasota-Bradenton Airport for her return. Today was their seventh anniversary. Fred had a surprise waiting for her when they returned home. Both had been so busy that neither had taken a vacation during the entire year. Because of their austere spending during the year, their saving accounts had swelled, so much so that they decided they would each buy the other a decent anniversary present for the first time in their married life.

  When they entered their house, Maureen was the first to spring her surprise. She directed Fred to the guest bedroom closet where a large wrapped package was waiting for him.

  Fred was like a child when it came to gifts; he brought the package into the living room, eagerly ripping its wrapping paper. When he finally pulled the object from his box he was surprised, unpleasantly so.

  “Wow, Maureen, you got me, ah, you got me a large coffee maker.”

  “Fred, please don’t underestimate it; it’s not just a coffee maker. You can program it to have it start brewing before you wake up in the morning, and it will be waiting for you when you first go downstairs. Also, you can set the level from weak to very strong. In fact, I’m sure the aroma alone will pull you downstairs. And best of all, it makes up to ten cups, you can have coffee all day when it’s your day off from work. And, guess what—I got another just like it for your office. And I also got you twenty pounds of flavored coffee.”

  “Maureen, I just don’t know how to put it in words, it’s, it’s, it’s just so great.”

  Maureen started laughing and continued to laugh until tears formed in her eyes.

  “I don’t get it, hon, what’s the joke?”

  “Fred, you big dummy! I know how much you hate coffee, do you really think I have a doctorate in psychology for nothing?”

  “How long have you known?”

  “For a long time but I must admit I loved to watch your facial calisthenic
s when I served you the first cup of coffee in the morning. But don’t worry, you’ll never have to drink it again. And your real present is in our bedroom. Go get it.”

  This time Fred returned dragging a large box whose markings indicated it contained a large 3D LCD television set.

  “You can return the coffee maker, Fred; I kept the receipt. And now you and your friends can watch professional football in three dimension anytime you want. I understand that it’s so clear you can practically touch the sweat dripping from the player’s bodies, as if anyone would ever want to do that. I wish I could purchase an added aroma device, so you could enjoy the smells emitted from the player’s locker room as well. I’m sure that then you would be in hog heaven.”

  “Maureen, it’s a great gift and I really appreciate it; but now I want you to go into the garage to find yours.”

  In a minute Maureen returned. “Fred, I can’t believe it! You bought me a new Ford hybrid!”

  “Yes, I drove your car once, and although I wasn’t in a great frame of mind, I knew immediately that it was overdue to be moved to the junk heap. And, oh, by the way, the answer is they were musicians in a band.”

  “Fred that’s quite a non sequitur, what on earth are you talking about?”

  “You recall awhile back during our dinner party when the nightmare first begin, you gave me a puzzle about four guys playing for hours for money, there was a separate score for each and no one lost any cash? I never got a chance to tell you the answer.”

  “Fred, you’re a total nut! But I love you so much, I really do.”

  “So do I, babe, and its not just my mental neurotransmitter speaking. Damn straight, I love you!”

  Postscript

  Six months had passed and Fred had observed that for the past few weeks Maureen was no longer behaving as she normally did. She had been so upbeat, almost euphoric, about the baby being due in a few weeks. But for some reason, lately she had become highly reflective and distant.

  One of Maureen’s associates told Fred that the change might be the result of a delayed reaction to the extreme trauma that she had suffered. She explained that often trauma lies buried for a period of time, and then the person might experience some triggering device which releases an explosion of emotions. She compared it to soldiers returning home from the war; their psychological coping device often can’t deal with the horrible sights and sounds that they had to endure.

  Fred perceived that might well be the cause, so he invited a few guests to his house to celebrate Maureen’s birthday. He knew that Maureen was normally an extrovert and a social being; having people around her tended to both cheer her up and energize her.

  The evening of the party, after she had opened all of her presents, the guests were invited to browse through a stack of Maureen’s birthday cards, including those that were from the party guests, as well as some that had been received in the mail. The theme of a few focused on enduring love and friendship, but most were highly comical, emphasizing Maureen’s advancing age. One of the guests picked up a card and said, “This is a cute card, but I guess this person doesn’t know you very well, or maybe it’s an inside joke. It’s addressed to Theresa Harris.”

  Maureen glanced at the card. “Oh, he’s not really incorrect; that’s my given name but I prefer to be called by my middle name Maureen. The card was sent by one of my high school friends who back then knew me only by Theresa.”

  Later that night after the guests had left, Maureen and Fred turned the lights down, played some elevator music from the 70’s, and relaxed on the sofa. Fred said, “I’m exhausted but I thought it was a great party and it was great that a lot of your old friends showed up. But at times like this, I guess you really miss your parents.”

  “Yes, They were wonderful, never letting me feel different because I was adopted. I never could find out who my real parents were. Maybe I’ll never know.”

  Maureen looked long and hard into the glass of soda she was holding, as if the answer might have been contained somewhere within it.

  Fred smiled. “Maybe it’s just as well, who knows, perhaps you’re part of some dysfunctional family with genetic homicidal tendencies—the sort of information that you wouldn’t ever want to know.”

  Maureen looked strangely at Fred. It was a look that Fred had never observed before in all the years they had been married.

  “Yes, wouldn’t that be something, Fred. With such a hidden genetic code just fighting to be activated, I could change at any minute.”

  Maureen paused, then with a strange smile, she said, “Have a delicious piece of cake Fred. It’s a special recipe from my childhood—and the flavor is to die for!”

  – THE END –

  Lorne L. Bentley holds a bachelor’s degree in Economics and a Masters in Public Administration. He worked several years as a systems analyst for the Navy Department in Arlington, Virginia. He and his wife Iris live during the winter months in sunny Sarasota, Florida and in North Carolina’s cool western mountains during the summer. In both areas, he plays softball and raises their needy but lovable small dogs.