by Babs Carryer
Gigi takes a step back and wobbles on her heels. As she exhales, she seems to deflate. Suddenly she looks old, tiny and tired. I realize how much pain she has been in since Errol’s death. I want to make things right.
“Plus, I loved him, Brie. Amy thinks that we were lovers.” I see rivulets of tears running down both sides of her face. “But you certainly don’t need sex to signal love and affiliation – we were already too close without it.”
I get up and stroke her arm. “I’m sorry, Gigi. So sorry, for everything.”
“Find him, Brie. Find who did this to Errol.” She spins and abruptly exits my office.
I have one less path to follow in a murder case. I’m running out of time. Don’t they say the odds of solving a murder go down exponentially the longer the time from death?
…….
The next morning I am determined not to let my leg slow me down. I stop for coffee at Tazza D’Oro and read over my notes. As I hobble towards my car, I see a familiar figure. It’s Straler. “Hey, detective!” I call out.
He turns and sees me, a broad smile showing up on his face. But he is not alone. He’s holding hands with a gorgeous woman with long brown hair to her waist. They walk towards me.
“Brie, great to see you. I want to introduce you to my fiancée, Renee. ”
I am dumbfounded. I must look like an idiot, staring with open mouth, leaning on my crutches, scabs still all over my face. I glance at her left hand. Yep, right there, a small, very tasteful, solitaire diamond.
Straler sees my look. “We just got engaged. We’re shopping. For a small party we are having for our families.”
Renee extends her hand, “Brie, I’ve heard so much about you. I’m so glad that you are OK. Straler was worried sick after your accident.”
I feel like an idiot. All of those butterflies, those smiles. I think that my smile is frozen on my face.
“Hey, I hate to talk shop on a beautiful day, but what’s going on?” I ask. “Where do we go next? I don’t mean to pressure you, but I am plumb out of ideas. We haven’t talked about why Boris, why he would be…”
I take a deep breath. I come out of my trance. Following me? Yes, we have to talk. There’s a lot to say…”
He smiles. I realize that I am relieved. He’s awfully cute, but my heart belongs to another. So does his – obviously.
“First let me congratulate you both. He’s a wonderful detective,” I say to Renee. She blushes. How cute. He looks at her adoringly. “It’s great to finally meet you,” I add. “Maybe Neal and I – my boyfriend – Straler’s met him, maybe we could all get together?”
Straler smiles that broad toothy smile. No butterflies this time. “That would be awesome,” he says.
I tell him that I’ll call him later. About the next lead.
That afternoon on the phone, I tell him that I am checking something and will let him know as soon as I am sure.
“Great, no heroics, promise?”
“Yep, done with that,” I assure him.
“Hey Brie,” Straler says tentatively. “I hope that you, well, that you didn’t think…”
I interrupt him, “Straler, it’s business. I loved meeting Renee today, and you know that I meant it that the four of us should get together.”
“Yeah, that would be great. I really like Neal. He’s a great guy, Brie.” There is an awkward pause. “I don’t mean to be overly personal, but he loves you. He really loves you.”
I feel a small choke starting to rise in my throat. I cough and then say, “I know, Straler. I know that. I love him too.”
“I can tell,” Straler says. “The way that you looked at each other in the hospital room. Your mom noticed too.”
…….
It’s after 11 p.m. I am on the couch trying to get comfortable. Arwen had stalked off with a disgusted look on her face a few minutes ago. I guess sleeping on a cast is not that comfortable for her. I desperately want another cup of herbal tea, but I don’t want to disturb Neal, who’s sleeping soundly in the bedroom. He’s gotten very little rest since my accident. My phone buzzes. It’s Straler.
“Hey, Brie,” he says quietly. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Hey Straler, what’s up? I can’t sleep anyway.”
“Know how you feel. Me neither.” I gather from the semi-whisper that Renee is in the other room just like Neal is here. “Listen, I did some investigating about Boris.”
“Some what?” I tease. “Like you’re a professional?”
“Hey don’t knock it.” I hear a light chuckle. “I have access to resources.”
“Yea, good for you.”
“Hey, we’re still partners. I need you.”
“Yes of course. I’m just tired, and my leg hurts like heck.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. He pauses.
I state the obvious, “We’re running out of leads.”
“I know. Don’t stop. We’ll get there.”
“Hey you sound like a detective.” The line goes dead. I’m exhausted and pull the blanket up to my chin. Arwen jumps back on and curls up by my neck. Her purring is like waves on the sea.
Chapter 41
April 13
I cannot go on. The voice inside my head tells me I am finished. I have done a terrible thing. I cannot live. I climb over the rail thinking my last thoughts about him. As the wind rushes past my face, I know that I cannot make the world right. I cannot atone for my actions. I will be a disappointment – forever – to those I loved. The last thing I feel is the cold embrace of the water as it soothes my soul.
Chapter 42
That same day
Buzzing in my ears. Buzzing coming towards me. The swarm is after me. I run away knowing that I will not succeed. They are angry, these bees, and they will get me. I hear a dog barking. I run towards the sound. The barking is louder, insistent. The bees are getting closer. I hear a high-pitched howl. No, it’s the unmistakable bah-roo of a beagle. I run towards the sound and see Luna howling at me. With an ear-splitting scream, she jumps at the swarm, mouth open to swallow the bees.
I awake with a start. I call Straler as soon as it’s light. “I know who killed him.”
“You do? Who?” he asks quickly.
“We have to go to the lab. Bring Detective Small too. She’ll want to be there. I’m sure this time.”
“It’s Patrick isn’t it?” Straler concludes.
I tell him that I’ll meet them in the lobby of the university lab building at 10 a.m. I know that it’ll take me a long time with my leg.
The detectives look tense when they arrive. I’ve been waiting for them at Tazza D’Oro in Bocci Hall. I had time to get an Italian Cappuccino and take my last sip as they approach. “You ready for this?” Detective Small asks. “Straler says you’re sure.”
I struggle to my feet. “Yes, I am.”
“I found out that he has ties to the IRA. It’s bad, Brie.”
I’m disappointed. I like Patrick. He’s intimidating, but he’s Irish. I’m fond of anything and anybody Irish. Even the North. I have a cousin from there on my dad’s side and I visited during a summer in high school. The countryside around Belfast was beautiful – egg basket hills the locals called it. The people were fantastically friendly. I remember asking someone in downtown Belfast for directions. “Excuse me, I’m lost…” I had said to an older gentleman in a cap. He gave me a gap-toothed smile and didn’t miss a beat, “Glad to meet you, Lost, I’m Jimmy. Now what can I do for you?” It makes me smile to this day.
By now we’re are at the lab’s door. As we enter, I see Patrick on his cellphone. He seems hysterical about something. Shouting “no, no no no no” into the phone. Yahya’s face is ashen. Patrick puts down the phone. “Damn me, damn you, damn us all fer fuck’s sake.”
“Patrick!” Straler says sharply.
Detective Small steps in. “We’ll have none of that, lad. You know probably why we are here and what we want to know is why. Why would you do this?”
“Pat
rick looks at us, shock registering on his face. “Why would I do this, are you kiddin’ me?”
“He didn’t do it,” I say quietly.
“Brie, what are you saying?” Straler asks, frowning.
“He’s not the killer. Where is she?” I demand, looking at Patrick.
“Who are you talking about?” Detective Small asks.
“Brie, what’s going on?” Straler asks me, looking at me like I’m crazy.
I look at Yahya. “It’s too late,” he says dropping his head.
Patrick is near hysteria. “You knew! Yahya knows too. Oh hell, I didn’t stop her. I knew, I suspected, and I had a chance to stop her, but I didn’t.” He gives a tortured gasp.
Yahya breaks in, “She has done something terrible.”
I stare at them. “Where’s Shala? She’s always here.”
Patrick explodes, “Are you daft? Didn’t you hear what I just said? Shala’s gone and done herself in. I tried to fuckin stop her, but it was too late wasn’t it? I figured out about her and Errol, but I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t know how to find out for sure so I did nothin’. And now it’s too late.”
I’m in a daze. The room slowly starts to move and I lean on the closed door behind me. “Let’s get this straight,” I hear Straler say. “Shala has killed herself, at least that’s what you think, and you think that she killed Errol? Do I have this right? Help me out, man, we’re trying to understand. That’s what you think, right Brie? Will somebody tell us what is going on?”
Yahya slumps down to the floor.
Patrick sighs and drops his arms, helpless.
“Shala killed Errol. I figured it out, too,” I say, looking where she usually stood at the lab bench. “It was Luna. She knew all along. Amy thought Shala was hiding behind you because she was frightened of dogs. She’s right. But Luna knew that she killed her master. And Shala knew that she knew.” Dogs know bad people.
No one says anything for a minute as they absorb this information. Straler looks at me. I can see that he is amazed and something else, maybe jealous?
Patrick says in a slow, pained tone, “She’s right. I’m sorry. I was upset. I didn’t explain, you must have thought… Brie’s right. Shala killed Errol. It took me a long time before I knew. First we thought it was you, Yahya.” He glances towards Yahya and lowers his eyes. “But Brie here solved that one too, didn’t she? I knew it wasn’t me. And no one else knew about DeathX but us. I suspected Shala, but she was good. She kept talking about Yahya and how it must be him. Thinking back, she was too obvious, a little too contrived. I’m Irish. We know bullshite when it’s served for breakfast. And I should’ve seen it…”
He’s so Irish, I think sadly. Behind those dark eyes and brooding expression is probably a poet dying to get out and express itself.
“We thought it was you, actually.” Straler says. “That’s why we came here, or so I thought.”
“Me! You thought it was me? Arq, for God’ sake, detective, I was trying to protect ‘em. First Yahya, then Shala. I couldn’t have done it. I was too busy trying to get them to stop it. Oh God, I let her go. I had the chance, and I didn’t stop her.”
“How did she…” I can’t finish the question.
“She jumped off the Highland Park Bridge. It was hard to hear her. That’s what she said, though. She called me.”
The detectives have their phones out. They step out in the hall.
“It’s maybe not too late?” I ask.
Yahya responds, “She could never live with such shame.”
Straler steps back into the room and says, “We called. The police, ambulance, the rest are on their way. We talked to the guy at the lock – Captain Bob. They’ll search. Someone must’ve seen. You have to climb the fence to do it. But we know what happens when you are in the water,” he trails off.
“She used DeathX. On him. And now on herself.” I notice a drop of water on the floor by my crutch. I watch the water spread and another joins it. A small pool of sad. Lovely, lilting Shala. How could the world be so wrong?
…….
The next morning, April 14
Jim and I crowd into the conference room. Alexei is there. So is Jeb from Sanguine, Josh from Bigfoot, and Carleen from GreenBush. Victor Williams, the medical examiner friend of Amy’s and Errol’s, is there also. Now that we know that it was the nerve agent, he has questions, and we have some too. Dr. Williams stands as we come in. Amy is here too. She deserves to know – everything.
There is a knock on the door, and Patrick and Yahya step into the room. The pair look stiff in ill-fitting suits. The same suits that they wore at Errol’s funeral, I bet. The pair are clearly nervous and uncomfortable.
As usual, Jim puts them at ease, “Patrick, Yahya, good to see you.” They shake hands and there are vigorous nods as we all acknowledge their presence. Jim makes introductions. “Thank you so much for coming here. You realize how important this is to Amy here,” he says with a wave in her direction. “And you know that it is very important to all of us at Quixotic, including our investors who have put their trust in us.” He gestures to Alexei, Jeb, and Josh. He pauses as he looks around the room. “But we also know that it is very important to you, to understand, to be a part of this… unraveling.” What an appropriate word. I am unraveling. I cannot bear to think what will be left.
“We don’t know everything,” he continues. “What we do know is that Shala has killed herself. That presumably she did so out of guilt. That she killed Errol. That she did this to get her hands on some kind of powerful discovery that comes from Errol’s university lab. Something powerful and dangerous. Deadly. Please explain about the discovery,” he says gently.
“Yes,” Patrick says in his thick Irish accent, “DeathX, we called it.” No one says a word. Patrick looks around the room. “It was an accident, this discovery. We, Errol, that is, we were actually working on something else. Something to help the brain when it is attacked by these, you know, terrible conditions, like the one your company addresses with its HD66 drug. We were hoping to find a cure to Parkinson’s Disease. But we mixed the chemicals wrong, or something, I don’t know. These things happen. You’re doing these experiments, and sometimes you just think like a cook, you throw a little of this and little of that – in a beaker, you see. I’m oversimplifying here, but you get my point, eh? We accidentally created something that had properties that none of us imagined were possible. I’m from Northern Ireland, from the center of the city of Belfast, Falls Road, some of you may have actually heard of it. That and the Shankill Road, we’re both famous for bein’ on opposite sides of the fence when it came to The Troubles. It all was kind of before my time, don’t you know, but my family was involved, really involved. Anyway, it’s of no importance to you, but I grew up around violence – I know the meaning of one human being hurtin’ another – and the stories around my kitchen table growin’ up were about Uncle Charlie and Aunt Jeannie, and Cousin Seannie. A lot of them died. Some of them ended up in jail and were part of hunger strikes and so on. Anyways, it’s just by way of background that I’m tellin’ you all this.” He pauses and looks at his hands. It’s dead silent in the room.
“I knew, when I saw the dead mice. I knew that we’d bumped into something terrible. Something that we would wish we hadn’t done. And now look; it’s gone and come true. I’m no soothsayer. I had no idea. If I had, I would’a stopped the poor girl. She had a horrible life back home, and I think she was usin’ the discovery to gain some kind of leverage or respect for her family. Somethin’ like that was going on inside her head. Somethin’ terrible had happened to her sister. Did you know that? She’s crippled for life as a result. A brutal gang rape. It happens all the time, Shala told me. And she wanted it to stop. She felt that she could make it stop. If only she had…” Patrick shakes his head as if to clear it. “DeathX provided a way. I think it was very personal, for her, for Shala. And I only wish I could a done somethin’ for her. Because I suspected, but I didn’t really know for sure. No
t until it was too late anyway...” He stops talking. We are all moved beyond words.
Yahya has been quiet all this time, looking at Patrick like it’s the first time he has seen him. “I so sorry, Patrick,” he says. “I not see this and I focus only on my brother and stopping him from what he doing. My brother, he think he do this for our country, but he cannot win this way. We see. We know there is no life in killing because others are being killed. Yes, is unjust – what happen in Syria. I know. But I no want to take part in killing. That just propagate killing. You see history of this from time of mankind beginning. But I regret so very deeply that I not see what is coming in Shala, what you struggle with. I see science of DeathX. I see that bad for people if they use, but I no suspect that Shala or anyone – you, Errol – do anything about it. To me it like separate from my life at home. I see only science. I miss important lesson. Errol be proud that I see this now,” and Yahya smiles that white toothed smile that hopefully will earn him a deanship someday. “I see that I miss importance of people. I not make this mistake again. Patrick, I with you. We continue. But we no let out any bad from lab – ever.”
My life in a startup. Except I am crying. And this is real. These are the people who will discover the next generation of what Errol has spent his whole life working on. These two represent the next generation of science – inventions that will make their way to a market, passing through innovation to commercialization. I’m going to write my own damn blog post, I determine. Errol’s trust in me will be worth something. I will help them.
I am not the only one crying. There are snuffles around the room.
…….
Victor has a few questions about the nerve agent. “Could it be ingested like food, in water, in any other way? How quickly did it act? What was the chemical makeup?”
Yahya and Patrick dutifully answer all of the questions.
“Errol’s lab notebook, where was that and who had access to it?”
I pull it out of my backpack and hand it over to Dr. Williams.