The Scarab

by Rhine, Scott

  “How do we know you are not Kali?” demanded Larry.

  “How do we know you aren’t Bozo the Clown? We’re never seen you in the same room together. Look at my hair, pal. People don’t normally go around lighting themselves on fire. But if you wanted to try, I wouldn’t stop you.”

  Nigel apologized, wishing he could stuff the pillow into my mouth. “Answer only what they ask and as briefly as possible.”

  Without warning, Reynolds took off the gloves. “I asked a friend at the State Department about your family. What do you know about the Committee for Social Justice?”

  Again, all eyes in the room were on me. I deflated under the force of the memory. “You tacky bastards, always blaming the victim. For even insinuating we were involved with those hoodlums, you’ve lost my cooperation. Find another stalking horse.”

  “She wasn’t going to go after you anyway. According to all the long distance calls we’ve traced, and all the people we’ve interviewed, there are in all likelihood no Swiss Bank accounts. We have nothing left for bait. Now answer the question,” said Reynolds sternly.

  “I was ten years old.” If I had been holding anything in my hands, I would have crushed it. I wanted to shout and put my fist through the drywall. Instead, I looked at my shoes, relating the events as if they were part of a news story, and not my life. “My dad was on a corporate fishing trip. Everyone on board was taken hostage by the Committee.” Mare and Nigel looked horrified. I hadn’t told anyone this before. “Two Exotech workers from the pier turned up dead, tied to the pilings under the wharf with steel fishing line. Given that there were no signs of a struggle, it had to have been an inside job. Someone from the company helped the people in black ski masks on board. Until the bodies turned up, they wouldn’t know who.”

  I took a deep breath and continued. “The wait was agonizing. We knew the government would never give in to the demands. Our only hope was that the military was rounding up all known or suspected members of the Committee for interrogation. A few weeks later, a man from the Brazilian Department of Commerce showed up at our front door. My mother was terrified that Dad had been found dead. What happened was worse. According to members of the Committee questioned at length by government experts, there would be no survivors. Since the kidnap victims were all supporters of an exploitive and oppressive regime, and no evidence could be left, the victims were cut up and thrown into the ocean as shark bait. Every half hour the ransom was late, another company employee died while the others watched. The judges were then thrown to the sharks. From that, the government deduced that anyone left alive must be a collaborator. To cover their bases, they filed charges against all Exotech employees who had been on the ship. My mother and I were asked to leave immediately. Our work visa had been revoked. We weren’t even allowed the decency of a funeral.”

  I closed my eyes, remembering a list of indignities and innuendoes I would never forgive. “In answer to your question, my family is not, nor ever has been, a member of the Committee for Social Justice. I do, however, have an abiding dislike for both kidnappers and idiotic bureaucrats. So when I met the guy that was working Mare over, maybe I did get carried away. I told you I blacked that part out. You’re lucky I left him one good leg. I’m sure if Mark hadn’t been there, that man would never have walked again. Tell me again why you think I’m working with these subhumans?”

  Larry was pale. Reynolds wiped his face sheepishly. “Over ten thousand dollars was recently charged to your hotel account. The recipient field on the credit slip was left suspiciously blank. Since the issue of ransom was never mentioned, we naturally assumed it was a pay off. What was the money for, Mr. Hayes?”

  “I can’t tell you,” I mumbled. Mary Ann would not find out about the ring from anybody but me at the proper time, and I certainly didn’t plan to tell these guys first.

  “Excuse me,” said Larry. “He asked you a direct question. What are you hiding? Explain to him that he’s got to answer us, counselor.”

  “I can’t tell them,” I protested.

  “Why not?” Nigel asked me.

  “I can’t say,” I repeated, looking at the champagne.

  With astounding intuition, Nigel hit on a solution. “Would he be permitted to tell Special Investigator Anselm? Then she could share it with the rest of us as she deems appropriate.”

  I nodded. “Alone.”

  When everyone, including Nigel had left the room, I closed the door behind them. I sat on the bed beside Mary Ann’s chair, and held her right hand in my left. “There’s something I have to say, and I wanted you to hear it first.”

  “Oh, Ethan. How bad is it?” she asked, squeezing my hand tightly.

  I groped for words desperately, but I kept fumbling them. I made three false starts, but the words never got to my lips. I could feel my pulse in my hand. Mare was truly beautiful. I focused on her eyes and concentrated. She was my oldest friend. If anyone would understand, it had to be her. I just had to start saying something. “These aren’t ideal circumstances. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you in my own time, in my own way, but they’ve forced my hand. Before I tell you, I need to know. Do you love me?”

  With everything we had been through, she had never said those words. I think it was a defense mechanism. If she didn’t say it, it wouldn’t hurt as bad if I rejected her. I waited, tense, as she started to cry. I kneeled in front of her chair and put my arms around her. She had been holding back all day. Tears rolled down her face.

  After a long moment, and several sniffs, Mare said, “No matter what you’ve done, I’ll be there to help you, Ethan.”

  The words sent a tentative wave of excitement through me, flipping my stomach and increasing the volume of my heartbeats. “This isn’t about friendship. I don’t need to ask about that.” I took a deep, shaky breath. If she said yes after a day like today, I knew she’d be with me through anything. I stared into her shining eyes and brushed a stray hair out of the way. “Before I tell you what I spent the money on, I need a simple yes or no.”

  She swallowed, and then replied with a soft, deep, earnest, “yes.”

  I exhaled and a smile wrapped itself around my face so wide I wouldn’t be able to pry it off. “I told the clerk not to put the description in the billing record because I didn’t want anyone to know...” Casually, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the black velvet ring box. “...what I got you this morning.” After a struggle, I managed to flip the box open one-handed. I had kept it simple, a single large round-cut stone. Twice, she looked down at the ring and back up at me, trying to change gears.

  “Oh my God, Ethan. It’s...” Now she was speechless, but her smile was as big as mine.

  “Will you marry me?” I asked.

  Mare laughed. “Yes,” she said again, in the same tone as before. I loved that word. Seeing what an awkward time I was having pulling the ring out, she pried it out and handed it to me. “This finger,” she coached, bouncing up and down on her chair as I slid it on.

  After the diamond was all the way on, she held her hand out at arms length and moved it to watch the sparkle. She giggled and then picked me up under the arms in a full hug. I didn’t even mind the pain. Her whoop brought the Feds running. When she showed them the engagement ring, still bouncing, Reynolds let us go. “I guess that makes us a sorry bunch of detectives.”

  Nigel pulled out the champagne and shouted, “You scoundrel!”

  I shrugged. “I had to be devious or she’d find out. Mary Ann’s a hard woman to surprise. Besides, these reporters have been into everything. I didn’t want it announced on the evening news before I asked her.”

  “No hard feelings?” Reynolds asked, shaking my left hand.

  “Why, what do you need?” I said cautiously.

  He paused for a moment, feigning hurt. Upon weighing his options, however, he decided on the honesty approach. “We have it on good authority that GEDM is going to make a play for you tomorrow. When they kill you...”

  “Excuse me?”


  “We need a couple of minutes preparation to set up the sting. We can only tap one line at a time with the analyzer and we were hoping that...”

  “I’d roll over and die? Take a hit for the home team? No way,” I said loudly enough to attract Nigel’s attention. He shushed me, not wanting to ruin what remained of the night for Mare.

  “You said you’d cooperate. It was part of the conditions when we released you the first time,” Reynolds hissed.

  I gave a sardonic laugh and turned to Nigel.

  For once I let my mouthpiece speak for me. “Any attempt to force my client into actions which could harm his company or prevent him from crossing the finish line would be actionable as restraint of trade.”

  On my way to the door, I eased his mind. “Relax. You want a human sacrifice, I can arrange one.” Over the course of the evening, I had figured out how the Exotech stealth craft was making its impossible gas mileage. They were riding the slipstream behind another vehicle. I’d find out who when we got the printouts at eleven. “Frodo is dead; he just doesn’t know it yet. I can choreograph his death to the second. I just want to get back in the race first.”

  Nigel was impressed. Reynolds wasn’t so sure. He slipped a CD into my pocket. “Just in case, we put a file on here we want you to put on your system.”

  “Virus?”

  He nodded. “The tech boys isolated it on one of the dead disk drives. We call it a rattler. When it’s read off of certain disk drives, it activates a test pattern on the controller chip. It’s a bug we just found. The test pattern wipes the drive clean and crashes the heads by the time it’s done. Your workstation is safe.”

  “A cyanide capsule?”

  He nodded. “The fingerprint doesn’t match Kali’s scrubber. This rattler belongs to a third party. But if we don’t catch her before she finishes draining you, this will give her system indigestion.” If the Feds couldn’t have the data, then no one would. It was second prize at best.

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” I promised. Mare practically skipped past me into the hall. Foxworthy gave us the bottle and feigned sleepiness so he could leave us alone.

  I pulled him close for one last favor. “We’ve got to pick up a printout from the judges at eleven. You are a registered team member. Could you...?”

  He nodded, and vanished.

  Back in our new room, I left my shadow outside and spent some quality time with my partner. I made sure to disconnect all the phones. Mare and I didn’t talk about the race all night. She eventually fell asleep in my arms with her head against my chest.

  Chapter 23 – Call a Paramedic

  We slept in late Sunday morning. When I woke to a gentle knocking at the door, my right arm and neck were stiff. Remembering last night made me smile. Mare looked at the clock; it was almost ten. This was unheard-of because she always got up religiously at seven every morning. Seeing how late she was, Mare muttered a brief curse and dashed for the bathroom. This time I heard the lock click shut behind her. I was going to ask for my hairbrush, but running a hand through my ridiculously short hair, I decided not to bother. “Be right there,” I shouted, changing quickly into my new Snap-On jumpsuit.

  “Whitaker?” I asked through the still-bolted door.

  “Sir. A gentleman from California to see Special Investigator Anselm. I believe you were expecting him?” said my FBI bodyguard. He had been with me when I called Mare’s youngest brother yesterday.

  I heard a muffled, “Special Investigator, too cool.”

  I unlocked the door in record time. “Steve.” He had a brown leather jacket on, and an overnight kit under one arm. Comically, our haircuts were almost the same, neither one of us had shaved that morning. We pointed and laughed at the same time, too, making the slap-stick even funnier. Because I was using my left hand, it came off like a mime in the mirror routine.

  “Ethan, good to meet you,” he told me, moving to shake my hand. He had still been in the service when I was dating Mare last time and hadn’t a chance to inspect me like the rest of her family had. Steve looked more like his father than the other two brothers did, but he still acted like the teenage beach bums I had seen in Hawaii. Noticing my injuries, he went into professional mode. Examining my bruises, he said, “I didn’t know racing was a contact sport.”

  I cracked a smile. “We had a little excitement yesterday. I’ll tell you about it some other time. We’re running a little late. The bruising looks worse than it is. I’m a hemophiliac. Mary Ann will be so surprised to see you. Come in and have a seat.” I went to the refrigerator to see what I could offer him.

  Steve lost his smile and put down his bag. “I didn’t know that. Where’s your ID bracelet or tags?”

  I shrugged. “I never bothered.” The cupboard here was bare. We’d have to stock up on our own food supplies again. Did the Feds handle that now? I wasn’t exactly sure.

  He looked around. This place had darker carpeting than our old suite and a large round Aztec calendar hanging on the living room wall. “No vaporizer either. Man, if you get a nosebleed in this dry air, you’re screwed. You’ve got to take better care of yourself. Did you know about this?” Steve asked Whitaker.

  Whitaker looked upset, too. It was nothing, but they were treating me like a minor whose parents had just caught him smoking cigarettes. “No, sir.” I realized from his demeanor that I had just made his difficult job even harder to do.

  I looked in the bedroom for my prescription and closed the door when I remember where I had left them. I was also a little skittish about letting anyone else see in the room; it was none of their business. “It’s okay. I have my pills right next door. I suppose I should have taken a few yesterday, but I got distracted,” I explained weakly.

  “Pills?” Whitaker asked. He wore the same suit as yesterday, but his shirt had a faint maroon tint to it, and the tie was dark red. He had found time to shave and didn’t have a wrinkle on him. I’d have to ask his secret.

  “Type B? Desmosuppressin, the usual?” Steve said, helpfully.

  I nodded and offered to take his coat. He wore a shirt commandeered from a set of hospital scrubs, and loose-fitting, baggy, tan pants.

  “We show no such inventory from the crime scene. I would have been informed,” Whitaker said with unshakable faith.

  I put two and two together in my head while I was hanging the coat. “The only other person in that room was Kali. You don’t suppose she took the bottle?”

  “Crime scene?” asked Steve. “I thought this guy was here because of the bomb threat yesterday.”

  “Steve!!!” shouted Mare as she ran from the bathroom, looking fresh and ready for the cameras.

  As she was hugging him and catching up on family gossip at mach speeds, I whispered to Whitaker. “Find out for sure. If Kali knows my secret, you may need some help.” He growled and left the room.

  “Congratulations!” Steve said when she showed him the ring. “Jeez, no wonder you said yes.” He laughed, and she punched him in the shoulder.

  Steve clapped me on the back and said, “You didn’t tell me about that. Have you told Mom yet?”

  She replied, “It was too late last night to call.”

  “Well what are you waiting for?” Steve said.

  Mare glanced at me for permission. “We do have a lot to accomplish before the race,” she said to give me an out.

  The race didn’t come online till noon, to give people time to get back from church. We were, after all, in the Bible belt and some states still had laws about commerce on Sunday. As usual, we’d have some time to scout and repair before today’s race officially started. “Go ahead. When you’re done, we can all go to the hotel brunch. I hear it’s a four-star affair. Meanwhile, I’ll head down to Nigel’s room and get the latest printouts. Make all the calls you want. The convention happens every year, but engagements only happen once.” I kissed her good-bye temporarily and touched the side of her face as I left. In the hallway, I could still smell her perfume.

  When I r
eached his room, I found Nigel was beaming this morning, too. He was dressed to the hilt in a British motorist outfit from the early 1900s, complete with the aviator goggles. “Working too hard?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “This is nothing, you should see what I golf in. I brought this for the costume party,” he said, modeling the outfit. “It belonged to my grandfather. He was in the RAF.”

  I asked him for the printouts, and he said, “Over there. I’ve got the executive summary on my laptop. Let me print a copy. This thing is essential for contracts. I can get 300 lines per page if I have to.” He must have brought half his office in those suitcases. The second bed, TV, and both walnut dressers were loaded with suitcases. His wall had a nice tapestry, but little other decoration. Compared with other accommodations I had seen here, this was almost Spartan. In contrast to my old apartment, though, it was still incredibly lavish. The rest of the room was cluttered with SimCon pamphlets, maps, and notes that he must have retrieved from our old suite. I’m glad he got them, because I wouldn’t have thought of them until it was too late.

  “I appreciate this Nigel, but I didn’t bring you here to work,” I explained.

  “Nonsense. I can’t remember when I’ve had a better time. All this is very exciting. Did I tell you I’ve always wanted an Astin Martin, just like James Bond? Well now I get to be on his racing team.” He pulled a single sheet of paper off the mini-printer.

  He was wired! In truth, I’d never seen Nigel this excited. “Well, I know what Celeste can get you for Christmas.”

  “Celeste! Yes. I forgot. She’d roast my toes for that. I just called her last night, and she was delighted! I’m told I can’t go home again unless I invite both of you to dinner at your earliest convenience. More of a dinner party, actually.”

  “I appreciate the thought, Nigel, but I wouldn’t want to put her to any trouble.”