The Device

by Maria Siopis

  “Who?”

  “Aria Pharmaceutical. I sold your project to them. In the beginning, there wasn’t a thought of betraying you. I loved you, but a pseudo buoyancy was unfolding. They approached me more than once, and when things became unbearable at home, I gave in. I told them all about your device. They knew about it, and they were determined to stop you. They make billions selling their pills. You think that you are above them? You must surrender your project to them. That’s the only way to save yourself and others.”

  “My project? They can have it. I don’t give a flying dick anymore. I’ll reveal the intrusion the device is imposing to the FDA, and they will pull the plug. Now, give me the damn command.” He was astonished at how much pain his soul was in. His prestige, his money, and his accomplishments weren’t important. He was defeated, completely and entirely.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Fiona jotted down Dr. Taylor’s address in her GPS while Gregory, who sat next to her, was going through the document that Jennifer had provided. He complained after he had read just a sentence or two and threw his hands in the air.

  “There is too much medical jargon. One thing is certain though, there are hundreds of recipients of the device.” Gregory continued leafing through the document, page after page. “This report is unreadable. I don’t know what cephalalgia or retrograde and anterograde memory is?” He was perplexed and ready to give up. He let the document rest on his lap. “I think I’m wasting my time.”

  “Oh, come on. Just use your phone for every term you don’t recognize,” Fiona suggested.

  “It will take me a year!” Nonetheless, he obeyed. “Are you kidding me?” he erupted.

  “What’s up?”

  “Cephalalgia is simply a headache. The fucking medical lexicon that derived from the fucking Greeks makes everything so much more complex.”

  For the rest of the trip, Fiona retreated to her thoughts while Gregory went through the document. Fiona was worried, and her temper had worsened in the last hour because she was unable to reach either Sophie or Phil. She tried both their personal and work phones again with no luck. She rationalized their disappearance was work-related, but she knew deep inside that there was something wrong, something she hoped she could intercept before it became a reality. Her longing to hear Sophie’s voice was almost unbearable. She was approaching the danger state of ... of ... She couldn’t express her feelings, even now that the possibility of Sophie being in danger was real. She was once again denying the theory as old as humanity itself ... love at first sight.

  “I think I found something. Hold on. Let me understand this before I articulate it.” Gregory took a few extra minutes going line by line and trying to decipher the hidden meaning.

  “I believe this device has the capability of inserting ideas or instructions into people’s minds. I think this is a dangerous device regardless of how it’s currently being used. I’m surprised the FDA is considering approving it or maybe has already approved it. This information was well hidden at the end of the document.”

  “Gregory, it’s called lobbying, bribing, and altering ... in short, corruption. I’m convinced that someone is behind this device and pumping it to no end. Perhaps it’s the developer, Dr. Taylor. They would do whatever were necessary to hide imperfections, and by the way, it’s already approved.”

  Their exit was approaching, and the GPS came alive. Fiona remained in the left lane and exited as smoothly as possible, although the road was circular enough to make them both dizzy. There was no traffic on the secondary streets, and she glanced at the clock in her car. She had made her last attempt to call Sophie about thirty minutes ago. Phil Kaufman was carrying the device, which confirmed some type of mental disease. And yet, he appeared well, and his father had confirmed that he was healthy. She shouldn’t worry. Phil cared about Sophie.

  “It’s coming up. It’s that big house to your right. Wow, this is enormous,” Gregory stated admiringly.

  Fiona parked at the front of the circular driveway and rang the bell, gazing at her feet instead of looking forward toward the closed double doors.

  “We are looking for Dr. Taylor.” Fiona presented her badge. “We are New York detectives.”

  “I’m Mrs. Taylor, and I don’t know where my husband went. Perhaps to his lab in the city?”

  “Could we come in for a second?” Fiona had detected relief on Mrs. Taylor’s face when she inquired about her husband. She had certainly behaved strangely for a split second.

  She gestured them to enter and guided them to her husband’s office. She sat on the leather chair while the detectives quietly took a seat on the brownish sofa across from her. Fiona wanted to start a hard, unmerciful interrogation. Mrs. Taylor was hiding something. She avoided eye contact, played nervously with her hands, and was not happy having them in her home office.

  “Mrs. Taylor, it’s imperative we learn where your husband is. He may be in danger. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with his research, but there is a connection between his invention and six homicides. Please, if you know anything that’ll help us ...” she implored. “Ma’am, I truly need your help,” Fiona continued, looking intensely into her eyes for more than a minute. There was an uncomfortable silence, and Fiona could hear her heart pumping blood to her veins.

  “If I tell you what I know, could I get a deal?”

  “I’ll talk to the DA and disclose that you fully co-operated.” Fiona was right. She was involved, but why would she give up so easily? What was her agenda?

  Mrs. Taylor furnished all the details of her involvement and Peter’s, the scientist that wrote the code. She also gave up Aria Pharmaceuticals. Code? Fiona’s mind couldn’t grasp the meaning that singular word carried until Mrs. Taylor explained the code was instructions to all the recipients of the device to sacrificially kill someone they loved. Fuck! Sophie was in real danger! Fiona felt herself falling over a high mountain cliff, and she was falling at a speed that made her heart stop. She grabbed Gregory, and she didn’t look back to either thank or reassure the doctor’s wife. Fiona didn’t give a damn if she was kindly treated for assisting the police, and if something happened to her lover, she would make it her personal business to ensure that Mrs. Taylor got the punishment she truly deserved, because she was responsible. All of them were responsible even if they were not the actual killers: Aria Pharmaceuticals, Peter, Dr. Taylor and his wife, Dr. Kaufman, and perhaps there were others.

  “He is in his lab,” Mrs. Taylor offered, looking at the ground. Was she regretful? Fiona walked away as a bitter taste reached her lips. People, she thought, are faulty and poisonous. There is no regret for their actions.

  “Where to?” Gregory brought her back to now. She licked her lips. The bitter taste was still there.

  “We have to find Phil. He has Sophie. They left the precinct less than two hours ago. Dr. Taylor has the code, and I’m pretty sure he’ll try to reverse the instructions and save his device, so us visiting his lab isn’t necessary right now. We have to find Phil!” her desperation was acute. Panic settled in as her mind was processing images that came and went rapidly. Her fear was dark and bloody.

  “Why?” he questioned.

  “Phil Kaufman carries the device that is reprogrammed with the command to kill, and I’ve always suspected that he was in love with Sophie.”

  “Okay, got it.” It took a second to input the data into his phone. “He is home and lives in Queens.”

  “How the fuck did you do that?” She was grateful, nonetheless. She began praying to all deities that ever existed, both in the past and the present. The mythological gods came to mind in all their glory. If she was late and couldn’t save Sophie, her life would not be worth living.

  “I’m using an app that the government insisted on developing. It was intended for an entirely different reason though—to curb overtime since the economy hit rock bottom. It’s a newly developed app that only a handful of us have, and I’m one of the beta group, who has the capability of l
ocating all the law enforcement agents within the perimeters of New York City because our badges carry a traceable chip.”

  Fiona didn’t answer. She drove, pushing all ideas that crossed her mind aside to avoid screaming. The singular thought that she might lose Sophie savaged her soul.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Sophie’s feet were bound, and her hands were nailed to the frame of the bed, but she continued moving her lower body left and right. Each movement, although miniscule, struck her with a new wave of pain that sent her to the gates of hell and back. She hoped to get to the knife that Phil left on the bed before he and the woman returned, although, in her current situation, nothing would likely be useful. When the knife landed on the floor and the door opened, her last hope disappeared.

  “We need a bigger nail for her feet and a piece of wood,” his mother instructed.

  “I’ve got everything.”

  At least he was not going to assault her sexually. She let relief enter her for a second. Jesus Christ, what are they going to do? Yet, she knew exactly what they were both trying to carry out. Fiona had mentioned a sacrifice, and she was right on again. They had a copycat on their hands. Fiona had talked about the case that was sixty years old where the killer managed to murder more than forty people. The murderer placed his victims on a cross after he killed them. How was it possible for someone to know about such an old case? Was it something random? The first murder victims in Queens had only had an incision, but even back then, Fiona realized that the scene appeared like a sacrifice. She was right from the start. Sophie opened her eyes to look at them. They would crucify her like Christ on the cross, and she was already halfway nailed.

  Phil’s mother set Sophie’s feet, holding them one on top of the other as she waited for Phil to hammer the nail down as though it was not human flesh. I’m not a wall chosen to hold a piece of art, Sophie wanted to scream.

  “Come on. The task must be done now. So, is she the near and dear in your heart?”

  “Yes, she is the one.”

  “Good thing it’s not your own mother. I wouldn’t want to be in her position.”

  The hammer hit the nail at the exact moment Sophie was ready to accept the feeling, idea, theory that was buzzing in her brain about Fiona. The penetration of steel into her skin wiped her mind completely clean. She traveled once again to the unknown.

  Phil finished his assignment, and his mother glowed with appreciation of his execution of the command she had set in motion. Then, she handed him the scalpel for the incision from the belly button to the chin. She had to be killed. Was the code able to rise above all, or would love intervene? Andrea doubted that feelings could be greater than the command, and when her son broke Sophie’s skin and the blood began staining Sophie’s skin, she smiled. The code was stronger than any human emotion.

  Chapter Thirty

  The apartment appeared completely empty and silent. Jennifer carefully advanced from the vast living room to the back bedroom through his office, hoping Matthew was still there. She would try to make him understand the seriousness of his situation. If he truly loved her, then he would agree to surrender to the authorities. She had her gun drawn, of course, and she would fire if it was necessary. At that moment, she realized that her true feelings for Matthew were completely different than she’d imagined. She wasn’t in love with him. She had never been in love with him. She had accepted his proposal in response to Fiona’s unwillingness to establish a legitimate relationship with her.

  She crossed the vast open space, entering the silent bedroom. No one was there. He was long gone, and it was highly probable that Matthew would disappear. He had the means for a successful exit. She put her guard down. The bedroom was partially illuminated by the light coming from the hallway, like the globe that was half lit while the other half remained in darkness. She had seen that phenomenon so many times when she traveled abroad, and it was magical. The room looked untouched, like Matthew hadn’t attempted to retrieve his personal belongings. He left without packing up his family photographs. He had always mentioned how important they were to him. She pushed aside the tiny bit of sympathy that came over her for him. There was no excuse for his behaviors that were doused with the oldest attributions of humanity: greed and deceit.

  She put her gun back in the holster and turned on the light. She would pack her possessions. She didn’t belong there anymore. She would dial her agency to tell them about Matthew Callagan, the noble doctor. She would inform them about his involvement and the device, telling them there was no need for reinforcement since he was gone. She pulled her luggage from the closet. The medium-sized, black bag was the only faithful companion she had. She rested it on the king-sized bed. She heard a muffled noise behind her and instinctively reached to pull her gun from its holster. When she felt a pinch to the skin on her arm, she realized she was a second too late. Matthew removed the needle while he held her body that was slowly slipping into sleep, and then, he placed her on the bed. He removed the luggage and stretched her body parallel to the windows while he positioned her arms close to the bed frame. She wanted to resist and fight, but her body remained unresponsive.

  He glared at her face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “The beast wants you.” He pulled the nails from his pocket as he observed her face again. Jennifer wanted to scream, and her lips parted very slightly, attempting frantically to make any sound. At the end, nothing but shallow breaths came out of her mouth, and she closed her eyes, perhaps for the last time, her voice eternally silent.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The detective had initially assured Mrs. Taylor that the DA would be informed of her willingness to assist, but now she wasn’t as sure. She realized she had been stupid to believe empty words. She weighed her options. Did she have any options or were they considerably limited as her active involvement would likely land her in an eight by ten cell? She was in trouble, that much she knew. Her family affairs were a mess for sure, her illegal activities were as clear as light, and her legal options were minimal. She had to make her own escape far away with Peter and her kids before the legal engine began to process her downfall. She dialed Peter to inform him that they had to drive to another state and then, perhaps to Europe to collect her money. From there, they could seek anonymity in a country of their choice. She needed a bit of time to get ready. She wasn’t worried that Timothy would return home. She was confident he would stay in the lab to check the central system and make sure that all was corrected.

  She left the office in a hurry, checked in with the kids, who were still playing games, and informed them they were all going on a vacation for the holiday season. Of course, they questioned the timing. They were still in school, and their holiday vacation was at least three weeks away. Yet, not going to school proved to be a better alternative, so they complied. She was thinking she was saved by her decision to leave, but she forgot Aria Pharmaceutical. Everything seemed to be working smoothly until that ugly idea sprang up to destroy her glee. Aria Pharmaceuticals would track her down for not notifying them about the new developments, and Timothy’s determination, she was sure, would shut down the operation. She had to call them and convince them it was all Timothy’s doing. She would state that he somehow discovered Peter’s deadly code. She reached for the phone by the bedside and called her contact, Xristos.

  “Something is wrong.” the person who picked up the phone asserted.

  “Yes, Timothy found out about Peter and the code. He figured out that something wasn’t right. He threatened Peter, and he obtained the code to make the change and cancel the instructions. I’m sure he is there in the lab.”

  “This has to be changed. I’ll stop him,” Xristos intentionally paused before he articulated his next statement. “I may have to go too far if he resists,” he whispered.

  She knew what he was implying and that fit her plans perfectly. Her husband could not seek to find her and their kids if he was dead.

  “I’m leaving tonight. You’ll never hear from m
e again. I’ll disappear. Do what you think works best for you. The security code to enter the lab is three-two-five-four,” she shared coldly.

  She clearly comprehended what he was going to do. If only they had met before, their match would have been perfect; he was as nefarious as she.

  “Too bad you have to leave ....”

  “Maybe sometime in the future, when all is resolved ...” she promised. But for now, she had to use Peter’s feelings and attentiveness to get away before she was captured and judged.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The car was left unattended for anyone to take. Fiona was freaking out over the dreadful feeling of the looming demise of the one woman she truly loved. There, she’d said it. She’d loved Sophie from the first time she met her. The theory was true; she had fallen in love at first sight. She silently gestured for Gregory to follow. There was no need to cover the front door or the fire escape route as Phil would not leave before he performed the sacrifice, no matter what the difficulties or circumstances. Phil lived in a five-apartment building. His unit was on the third floor, not far from the precinct. Fiona was almost certain the distance was just a few blocks. Why was Phil living there? His father was wealthy, so money was not the motive for residing there. Perhaps it was convenient to his workplace? Fiona thought, like these ideas were vital. She continued with the superfluous thoughts in her head, wanting to remain occupied and avoid shouting into the night about the pain that was penetrating her soul.

  Attempting to gain access to the building, they decisively rang all the bells except Phil’s. The intercom exploded with requests and inquiries from all the tenants that were home.

  “Police, please open the door,” they requested, although they were both unsure if anyone would believe it and buzz them in.