The Evolution of Evil (The Blackwell Files Book 6)

by Steven F Freeman

  “This is police harassment,” said Shoemaker. “You’ve already interrogated all of us ad nauseam.” He gestured to the morose Quintana. “You have your criminal. What more do you need from us?”

  From his seat, Alton spoke with an even voice. “You’re right. This handcuffed man is a criminal. But he’s not the only criminal in this room.”

  CHAPTER 71

  Several people started to talk at once.

  “Quiet!” said Fuentes, silencing the small crowd.

  “Captain, with your permission, I’d like to explain,” said Alton.

  Looking a little stunned, Fuentes swept his hand across the circle’s open space. “The floor is yours, amigo.”

  Alton looked at each of the room’s occupants in turn. “I have to confess, until last night, I was pretty much in the dark—or just plain dead wrong—about almost everything that has happened since my arrival here.

  “For example,” he continued, “we’ve been tracking Jaime Quintana here for the past week. We know he tried to get a job at Dr. Summit’s lab more than once. We know when he couldn’t get a job, he attempted to break into her research facility. We know he fled through the woods after I nearly caught him there.”

  Quintana spoke for the first time. “You can’t prove that was me you chased. It was nighttime. You think a judge is gonna believe you could see that good in the dark?”

  “I don’t need for a judge to believe me,” said Alton. He limped over to the prisoner. Reaching into his pocket, he removed an evidence bag containing the tortoise pendant from the recovered necklace and held it in front of the prisoner’s face. “Recognize this?”

  Quintana didn’t answer.

  “Remember the mouth swab we took yesterday? In a few days, the FBI will compare your mouth-swab DNA to the DNA recovered from the cord that was strung through this pendant. What do you think are the odds we’ll prove the necklace was yours?”

  “So what?” said Quintana. “It still doesn’t matter. It’s not a crime to be out in the countryside.”

  “But it is a crime to trespass on private property with the intent to steal. And it wasn’t your first attempt, was it?”

  Quintana gave a start of surprise before resuming a calm demeanor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know you sneaked onto Summit’s property before I ever arrived on this island. And back then, you got away with your theft.”

  Fear entered Quintana’s eyes. “I didn’t have anything to do with Summit’s disappearance.”

  “I know,” said Alton. “It was all about providing for your family, right?”

  “How…?” asked Quintana. He slumped back in his chair.

  “After we captured you yesterday,” said Alton, “we went back to Dragon Hill and found your wife. She said you’ve been working on some scheme to make money to provide for your family. She also said you recently came into possession of hundreds of dollars, maybe thousands. So how did you get that money? One possibility is that you stole the research notes on Summit’s computer and sold them to one of Lexington’s competitors. But if you had done that, the IP—intellectual property—black market blogs would have gone crazy with the news. That didn’t happen. Plus, your background doesn’t suggest an IP thief. And there’s one other fact: Summit’s most important findings weren’t on her stolen computer anyway. They were on a flash drive crammed up the backside of a stuffed finch. The files on her computer aren’t worth that much.

  “So if you weren’t selling Summit’s research notes,” continued Alton, “what were you selling?” He noticed every set of eyes in the room glued to him.

  Quintana remained silent.

  “Don’t want to talk, huh?” said Alton. “That’s okay. Why don’t I tell you—and the rest of the folks here?” He cleared his throat. “You wife said that in the past, you used to make money smuggling animal products and, occasionally, live animals off the islands. There are thousands of marine iguanas lying on the beaches around here. Who’s going to miss one or two, right? Your wife said last year, you got a job on a cruise ship that toured the Galapagos Islands, and the money was pretty good. But a couple of months ago, the ship began a mandatory, two-year hiatus that lets the animal populations recover from the impact of tourists. So there went your paycheck.

  “Knowing those facts, I wondered if you had resumed your animal-smuggling career. Then I remembered: before she died, Gromov told me the research facility had fifteen tortoises out back to supply the proteins needed for Summit’s research. However, a few days ago, I counted them, and there were only fourteen.”

  “That’s right,” said the Gooch. “I remember you saying something about that to me.”

  “Yep,” said Alton. “Galapagos giant tortoises are rare and worth thousands of dollars. The research facility is not going to simply misplace one. So that meant someone must have taken it.”

  Quintana cast his gaze to the floor.

  “Once I formed this theory, I did a little checking to see if there is anyone convicted of animal smuggling currently in the Galapagos Islands. It turns out Leo Williams is here. Leo works for Randy Grove, arguably one of the top five illegal-animal traders in the world. Mr. Grove brings rare animals from South and Central America to Tijuana, Mexico, and then smuggles them across the border into San Diego.

  “A few days ago, Leo Williams received four money wire transfers totaling twenty thousand dollars. In these days of credit cards, why would a person need so much cash? In his case, it’s because he negotiated a deal to purchase some animals for his boss’s operation.” He turned to Fuentes. “Captain, if you send your men to Williams’ rental cabin on the eastern shore, I believe you’ll find Summit’s missing tortoise—and probably some other contraband wildlife as well.”

  Fuentes nodded. “I will do this.”

  Alton turned back to Quintana. “And this theory explains how you, Mr. Quintana, came into your recent windfall,” said Alton. “You were finally able to sell the tortoise you had stolen a few weeks ago, back before I arrived on this island.”

  “All this makes sense,” said Charlie LeFlore,” but it doesn’t prove he wasn’t involved with kidnapping Summit or murdering all those people.”

  “You’re right, LeFlore,” said Alton. “Of course, you’d know all about the art of keeping secrets, wouldn’t you?”

  CHAPTER 72

  “What!” said LeFlore, “You’re accusing me?”

  “We know you have secrets to hide,” said Alton.

  LeFlore stopped and laughed. “You think I kidnapped Summit? That’s just stupid. I’ve already explained why I came here: to assess the value of her work so Beauchamp, my employer, can offer to buy it, hopefully before the price skyrockets. Why would I want to derail my own mission?”

  “Because your company treats cancer by lowering LPR-six levels,” said Alton, “but Summit’s research suggests those lower LPR-six levels can cause Alzheimer’s. Beauchamp’s products would be rendered a lot less popular if Summit’s research turns out to be true. Most patients would seek an alternative means of cancer treatment. Beauchamp has nearly all of its eggs in this LPR-six lowering basket, so it can’t afford to have that approach compromised.”

  “I agree that such a discovery would be unfortunate, but it’s preposterous to suggest I kidnapped Summit for that reason.”

  “Why is it preposterous?” said Alton. “It would cost Beauchamp billions if its primary lineup of drugs went out of favor. People have killed for a lot less than that.

  “But that’s not the only reason we suspected you,” continued Alton. “You’ve engaged in a lot of unusual activities since your arrival in the Galapagos Islands.”

  The Canadian’s mouth tightened, but he spoke in a controlled voice. “If you mean I find the companionship of beautiful ladies delightful, then yes…guilty as charged.”

  “You and I both know it’s a lot more than that,” said Alton. “You seem to have a proclivity for visiting unusual places at unusual times.”


  LeFlore shrugged. “I like to take walks. Sue me.”

  “‘Take walks,’” said Alton. “Is that the euphemism these days?”

  “Euphemism for what?” asked Fuentes, craning his neck around to look at Alton.

  “We’ve seen Mr. LeFlore turn on the charm,” said Alton. “He just said he ‘finds the companionship of beautiful ladies delightful.’ But his sexual proclivity goes beyond being a flirt.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Fuentes.

  “We knew we’d have trouble getting information from Canadian authorities about LeFlore, considering there’s no hard evidence he was involved in Summit’s disappearance. But last night, Mallory had a good idea. Rather than rely on police records, why not search public internet files? It turns out the Mounties maintain a national sex offender registry, just like the US.”

  The air seemed to go out of LeFlore. He stared at the linoleum.

  “Mr. LeFlore has been convicted of sexual assault once. And a search of public blogs of sexual offenders revealed he’s been charged for it two other times and one time for sexual harassment. And this gets back to the unusual activities I mentioned a minute ago. I don’t know what you’ve been up to the entire two months you’ve been here, but Fuentes’ men have been following you for the past week. They know you left on Thursday night and waited outside Wendy Chin’s hotel.”

  “What?” said Chin with a shudder.

  “We can’t prove he was waiting for you,” said Alton, “but we know he left after a few hours. And later, he took a long walk…to a brothel. When the charm doesn’t work, there’s always the tried and true method, right?”

  “I’m not talking to you anymore,” said LeFlore, “not without a lawyer.”

  “I’m a little surprised, though,” said Alton. “In the FFN social-media app, you wrote on your wall that ‘European and Asian chicks are the hottest.’ Did the brothel have ladies matching that description? And more importantly, did Jan Summit’s appearance match that description, too? I’ve seen her photos, of course. She’s quite attractive. And unlike all the other victims this past week, she hasn’t turned up dead.”

  LeFlore broke his vow to remain silent. “Compile all the circumstantial evidence you want. You can’t prove I had anything to do with her disappearance, because I didn’t.”

  “It is pretty circumstantial, isn’t it,” said Alton, “A man with a criminal record for sexual aggression, who has trailed a woman in this room, meets with an attractive scientist. Then the scientist disappears.”

  “Oh, my God,” said Chin. “What if I hadn’t slipped out the resort’s employee entrance the other night? I might be…wherever Summit is now.”

  “I agree. Given LeFlore’s records, it’s a good thing you did,” said Alton, “but not because he had anything to do with Summit’s abduction. We know he’s innocent of that.”

  CHAPTER 73

  “Wait. I’m confused,” said Chin. “I thought you just said—”

  “I agreed with your being concerned over the fact that LeFlore staked out your resort,” said Alton, “but he wasn’t involved with Summit’s abduction.”

  “You said he was sneaking around, not just to The Finicky Finch, but to other places, too.”

  “To brothels, yes,” said Alton, “unlike your clandestine meetings.”

  Chin did a double take. “What? You followed me, too?”

  “Ms. Chin, you’re a person of interest in a case involving one abduction and at least five murders. Why would you’d be surprised we’d follow you?”

  “Because I was working with Dr. Summit, not against her,” said Chin. “Her disappearance throws a monkey wrench into Forsberg’s plans to make an offer to buy any drugs developed from her research.”

  “Drugs that would render Forsberg’s current lineup of Alzheimer’s treatments obsolete, and cost the company billions, right?” asked Alton.

  Chin sighed. “I see where you’re going with this. But pharmaceutical obsolescence is inevitable. It happens with almost every drug, certainly in the case of Alzheimer’s drugs, where we’re just beginning to grasp the disease’s root cause. And even when new drugs aren’t developed, all patents eventually expire. The best a company like Forsberg can do is try to ride the next wave of medicines. You can ask my boss. I checked in with him a few days ago and confirmed we want to move forward with the offer…assuming Dr. Summit is found.”

  “That makes sense on the surface,” said Alton, “but it doesn’t explain why you’d need to leave for one secretive meeting after another.”

  “I’m a big girl,” said Chin. “I’m allowed to leave my hotel whenever I want.”

  “But leaving through the employee entrance?” pressed Alton. “You just admitted you didn’t know about LeFlore, so why the caution? What did you have to hide?”

  “I value my privacy. Besides, what do my meetings have to do with Summit anyway?”

  “We’re pretty sure the brains behind Summit’s attack hired locals to carry it out. That person would have had to meet with those locals, probably more than once. And that person might have needed to dispose of those locals—violently—if they became too talkative.”

  Chin produced a bitter laugh. “I’ve had my share of violence, but not here.”

  Alton detected a hint of pain in the pharma rep’s wounded eyes, not unlike that he experienced when recalling his time in Afghanistan. “We know you left. We just don’t know who you met with—or why. So why not put our fears to rest, and explain why you felt it necessary to sneak off?”

  Chin sighed. “Forsberg is very old school. Everyone is expected to toe the company line, the idea that our motives are pure, and anyone who challenges us is the enemy.”

  A lightbulb went off in Alton’s head. “Your meetings weren’t professional, were they?”

  “No.” Chin looked Alton in the eye, a gaze both worried and defiant. “I was seeing my lover: Robb Shoemaker.”

  A murmur broke out among several attendees.

  Alton waited for the noise to dissipate. “Are you the one who posted his bail a few days ago?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I couldn’t let him rot in jail.”

  “That makes sense,” said Alton, “but why the secrecy?”

  “If my boss found out I was seeing one of the most vocal opponents of Dr. Summit’s research, which could become Forsberg’s research, the news would go over like a lead balloon.”

  “They’d see a conflict of interest,” said Alton. “Your loyalty to Forsberg and its goal of acquiring Summit’s research versus your loyalty to Shoemaker and his goal of eliminating her research.”

  “Exactly,” said Chin. “I love Robb, but I don’t agree with his views on Summit’s research. He believes that if Galapagos Tortoises are used for medicine, their species will die out.”

  “And you don’t?” asked Alton.

  “No. Once we’ve identified the organic compounds, we’ll synthesize them in the lab. The tortoises won’t be in danger.”

  Shoemaker couldn’t contain himself. “And how long do you suppose it’ll take to develop the technique to create the compounds artificially?”

  Chin closed her eyes. This seemed to be a topic they had argued before. “It could take a while.”

  “Damn right,” he said. “Years, probably. And in the meantime, the tortoises will be poked and prodded into oblivion.”

  “Dr. Summit has told me she’s personally committed to ensuring the indigenous species of these islands are not harmed by her discoveries,” said Chin.

  “And does Lexington Labs share her commitment?” asked Shoemaker. “After all, she’s on their payroll. Her discovery is their intellectual property.”

  Chin turned her gaze back to Alton. “One of the things I love about Robb is his passion, but as you can see, we don’t see eye to eye on this issue. Ironically enough, it’s what brought us together: me to buy Summit’s research, Robb to stop it. But it’s also why I had to keep my relationship with him a secret. If my
boss found out, he’d wonder where my alliances lie…and I’d be out of a job.”

  “So you were worried that your boss would think you’re playing him,” said Alton. “Have you ever considered the possibility that Shoemaker could be playing you?”

  CHAPTER 74

  “I’ve had just about enough—” began Shoemaker.

  “Don’t act so surprised,” cut in Alton. “Why wouldn’t we suspect you? You have every reason in the world to pull off the attack on Summit’s research facility. You’ve already been caught breaking in once. You’ve made no secret of your opposition to her work and its potential impact on the Galapagos Islands.”

  “Not ‘potential.’ Guaranteed. You know as well as I that an untold number of Galapagos species will be exploited and wiped out by pharmaceutical companies.”

  “Thanks for yet another demonstration of your motive,” said Alton. “And then there’s your habit of attending secret meetings.”

  “Yeah—to meet Wendy,” replied Shoemaker, casting a glance at Chin.

  “We didn’t know that until now,” said Alton, “so we traced out your background, trying to get a read on how far you’d go to prevent Summit from consummating her work here. Your father is an extremely wealthy man.” Alton shifted his gaze. “Did you know that, Ms. Chin?”

  Her eyes darted to Shoemaker, but she said nothing.

  “As I said,” continued Alton, “Andrew Shoemaker is a wealthy guy, an icon in the world of Wall Street investment banking. And business people who occupy such rarified air typically rub shoulders with equally powerful members of the government.”

  “I’m not my dad,” said Shoemaker. “That much I can assure you.”

  “But you do share an objective with one of your dad’s closest government associates: shutting down Jan Summit’s research at all costs.”