by Fox, Stephen
“I regret to inform you that Agent Palmer’s body was found two days ago in a marsh off Skidaway Island near the mouth of the Savannah River. The body had been decapitated, and the head is still missing. Identification took so long because the body was in such bad shape. He had been in the water for at least 48 hours before he was found.”
Underwood sat in stunned silence for a minute.
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry, Agent Adkins. The news just caught me by surprise. I found Agent Palmer to be a very professional member of your team. His presence will be missed.”
“Thank you Captain. We need to debrief you on this case he was assisting you with. The similarities between his death and the deaths in your case lead us to believe it might be the same perpetrator. Until now, our presence was merely advisory. Now that a federal agent has been slain, it becomes a federal matter.”
“I understand, Director Adkins. I just got back in my office and have several messages to respond to. Let me check my schedule and give you a call back, say within a half hour, to set up an appointment.”
The Captain’s next priority was Hamilton and Hurst. The detectives were waiting as he hung up the phone. He ushered them into his office. “What’s the latest on the Senator and her friends?”
The two detectives looked at each other. Hamilton moved to close the door. “The last time we saw her she was with you. Or at least her body was. You mean to tell us she’s still alive?”
“The reports of her death were unreliable at best. You saw the dents in the car trunk as the dead body tried to smash its way out. The two officers who claim they saw her die should think long and hard before they make out a report. They would look pretty foolish when she enters the federal building tomorrow.”
Hurst shook his head. “Man, this case gets weirder by the moment. I swear I saw Alfred Hitchcock twice this morning.”
Underwood smiled. “Forgetting the cemetery for a second, as if we could, do you have any new information to give me?”
Hamilton opened his notebook. “I did a check on that Walachia Foundation. It seems to be a network of businesses. The majority of the ones my source was able to trace seem to perform research relating to blood. According to him they have published some incredible results over the last few years.”
Hurst nodded. “The blood tie-in seems to show a link.”
Hamilton agreed. “Here’s the clincher. I looked up the word Walachia. In the mid-1400s there was a small country called Walachia in what is now Romania. Its claim to fame in the past consists of it being the home of the Prince of Walachia, Vlad the Impaler, aka Vlad Dracul, which means Vlad the Devil. His son was called the Devil’s Son or, as we know and love him, Dracula.”
The captain’s eyes got big as he digested what had been disclosed. His finger started doing its thing. “You mean Walachia is another name for Transylvania?”
Hurst hadn’t heard any of this from his partner yet and his jaw dropped as Hamilton answered. “Actually, no. Walachia and Transylvania were neighbors, before Michael the Brave united them in 1599, but then he lost Transylvania to the Holy Roman Empire the next year. Michael the Brave was another prince of Walachia, until he was deposed by the Poles later on. Now Walachia and Transylvania are both part of Romania.”
Hurst looked at his partner with awe. “My partner, the walking encyclopedia, strikes again.”
Hamilton looked at Underwood and added. “My partner thinks he’s a wit. Actually he’s only half right.”
Underwood interrupted before the pair could continue with their perpetual gibes. “Okay, now that we have this information, what do we do with it? We now know that we are not facing just a few of these monsters, we are facing an entire organization - virtually a whole race of superhuman beings. We need to find some way to stop not only the Senator, but the Walachia Foundation as well. Suggestions?”
Hurst looked at both men and answered. “Don’t look at me. I left my kryptonite in my other suit.”
The Captain turned to Hamilton. “What about you?”
The detective shook his head. “I’ll go to the library tonight and look up ‘World Saving, How To.’”
Underwood dismissed the men with a wave of his hand. “Let me know if you think of anything. In the meantime, I think I’ll check with Doctor Bell. Maybe she has some ideas.”
Hurst snickered. “I think we all know who has ideas about who when it comes to the beautiful Doctor Bell.”
Hamilton’s elbow in the ribs stopped Hurst’s remarks, and the two detectives continued down the hallway with Hamilton berating his partner. “Now don’t talk that way about our beloved Captain. Besides, it should have been who has ideas about whom. The English language has always been a mystery to you. I remember last week you were mangling a participle …”
Captain Underwood pulled his car into the parking lot in front of the GRIL building. He had tried to call Marie’s office but the line was busy. Anyway he needed to talk to her face to face, both about the problem at hand, and to commiserate about her father’s death. The guard at the front door knew him by sight and waved him through as he walked toward the elevators.
Marie’s lab was on the third floor. She did not have a secretary, although she deserved one. During her years at GRIL she had refused all promotions. Working under and with her father had always been more important than extra money and privileges. Underwood opened the door of the lab. Stepping in the doorway he could hear the sobs coming from the office at the west end of the room. Through the glass door of the office he could see her with her head down on the desk.
“Marie, what’s wrong?”
She looked up at him, then lowered her head and wailed even harder.
He felt so helpless, watching her. “Marie, is there anything I can do? I know you’re upset about your father’s death, but I did the best I could to protect him.”
“It’s not my father. It’s my brother.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother. Your father never mentioned him.”
She seemed to be calmer now that she was talking. “My father never talks about him. Well, talked about him. He disowned my brother a long time ago because he disapproved of him.”
“Drugs?”
Marie looked insulted. “No. Mark was an athlete and took great care of his body.”
“In this day and age, if someone becomes persona non grata with their family, it’s almost always drugs, honesty, or sexual preference. I can’t envision anyone in your family stealing unless they were on drugs, so I assume your brother was gay.”
She smiled through her tears and moved a stray strand of hair from her face. “Brilliant deduction, Holmes.”
He caressed her cheek. “But I must admit I have trouble believing that that was the problem. Your father always seemed so understanding and patient with people.”
Marie made a face. “It’s always incredible how understanding people can be until it affects them directly. My brother was a world class athlete and academically he was top in his class at Dartmouth his freshman year. My father doted on him and bragged incessantly. Mark was much older than I, so this was eighteen years ago.”
Suddenly the name rang a bell. “Wait a minute. Is your brother Mark Bell, the all-state fullback?”
Marie nodded as she made an attempt to smooth her lab coat. “Mark was all-everything during high school. Football, basketball, track. There wasn’t a sport he didn’t excel in. Add to that a 97 average in his academic classes. Every college this side of the Rockies was after him.
Jim nodded. “I still remember the uproar that year. I was just a freshman on the junior varsity football team, but I recall the circus-like atmosphere the fall of his senior year. You couldn’t walk five feet without tripping over a recruiter. He led our varsity to a perfect record that year.”
It was Marie’s turn to nod. “Things were fine until the summer after Mark’s freshman year of college, when he ‘came out of the closet.’ My father was the typical parent, living out hi
s boyhood fantasies with his son’s body. Every award, every trophy was something to brag about.”
“I never made the connection between Mark and you back then. He was a teenage idol and you were just a skinny little kid. No offense.”
Another little smile tried to break through. “None taken. He just couldn’t comprehend that my brother didn’t choose his life style; he fought it all the way. But eventually he had to accept himself, and he hoped my father could accept the facts too. Fat chance. Father threw Mark out of the house ‘until he came to his senses.’ From that day on they never said a single word to each other.”
The tears had stopped but Jim could sense the girl was still on the verge. “A tragic and all too common tale, but why the tears today? Did your brother just find out about your father’s death?”
Marie’s voice shook as she replied. “No, he was at the funeral. You see, about six months ago he tested positive for the HIV virus. For the past two months he has had bout after bout of flu and other illnesses He’s survived pneumonia twice. It was just a matter of time.” Her voice broke as she continued, “That’s why I did it.”
“Did what? Called your brother and got him to come to the funeral?” He put his hand on top of hers. “I don’t think anyone would blame you for that.”
She started to wail again. “No, not that. He came for the funeral. That’s when I did it. I gave him the blood. I injected him with Patrick’s blood!”
It took a few seconds for the enormity of her statement to register. He shook his head to clear it, then said in astonishment, “You injected your brother with Patrick’s blood? Don’t you realize what that would do to him?”
“He was dying! His immunity was gone and I didn’t know what else to do. You know what AIDS is like. All of the body’s defenses collapse and the sufferer finally dies, not of AIDS, but usually of pneumonia. One bacteria cell or virus and it spreads like wildfire, and there is nothing to stop the process. Oh sure, the doctors can stop the first infections by pumping the body full of antitoxins and antibodies from someone else’s body. But having AIDS is like playing Russian roulette. If the first round doesn’t get you, sooner or later your luck is going to run out. The last time I saw Mark he was a strong healthy athlete. When he came off the plane at the airport, I didn’t even recognize him. Can you believe that? I didn’t even recognize my own brother. You saw him at the funeral. That incredible athlete could barely stand up by himself. My brother was dying, and I had in my hands something that would let him live.”
The captain looked grim and his finger went to work, “So we have another potential killer on our hands.”
New tears began to stream down her face, “No. That’s why I’m so upset. It didn’t work. Instead of saving his life, it ended it. My brother is dead, Jim.”
A cock of his head. “I don’t understand. The blood poisoned him?”
“No, but it killed him just the same. See, when I gave him the blood it seemed to have an effect at once. He felt stronger. By the next morning he looked like he did a year ago; strong, healthy, vibrant. I did a blood study and found that the white blood cells had all been replaced with the super leukocytes. The following day he felt so good he went to the gym for the first time in two years. Before the blood he could barely get out of bed. Within two days he was bench pressing two hundred fifty pounds. It was a miracle.”
As she talked about his recovery, her strength began to come back too. But just as quickly she grew quiet again. “After work last night, the third day, I stopped by his motel. He looked normal, but complained he was a little tired. I took a blood sample and took it to the lab. When I examined it I couldn’t believe what I saw. The leukocytes were turning into cannibals. No longer were they attacking foreign bodies. They were killing each other.”
She paused to let her words sink in, and continued. “When these super white cells began to multiply in the body, they not only wiped out the disease organism, they wiped out the normal white blood cells and other helpful bodies in the blood. With the super cells being consumed, there were no other defenses for his body.”
“When I went to my brother’s room this morning he couldn’t even get out of bed. The super leukocytes had destroyed each other. But it left him powerless against even the smallest germ. Overnight he had developed severe pneumonia. There was nothing to be done. By eleven he lapsed into a coma, and died before noon. And it was my fault.”
“Your brother had AIDS. How could it be your fault?”
“I gave him the blood. If I hadn’t, he would still be alive.”
Underwood reached over and pulled her to him. “But for how long? You may have shortened his time, but he’s been under a death sentence for quite a while. You know that. And you knew that this blood was a chance to lift that sentence. It was a gamble. You knew that and so did your brother. He was aware of the risks and agreed to take them because the alternative was a slower lingering death. He knew that either way it turned out he would be spared a lot of suffering.”
Jim continued, “I’m saddened by your loss, and it would be wonderful to know that AIDS could be cured. But at what cost? Each of the recipients of the blood would be turned into involuntary killers, preying on the rest of us.”
“Deep down I guess I do understand that, Jim. But it’s hard to know that you failed.”
“You didn’t fail. Someone was bound to make this attempt and you saved us the time and expense of the research.” His finger started doing circles in her hair, as an idea began to form in his head. “Besides, you may have found a weapon that can be used against them.”
The long black car pulled up in front of the Chatham County Courthouse on Liberty Street. The driver came around and opened the door for his passenger. Senator Maggie O’Mullens climbed out and greeted her aide who was hurrying to her side. Together they began to climb the courthouse steps. Two men, obvious plainclothes policemen, moved in on each side of the two and, with a few words, ushered them into a small office on the first floor, where Captain Underwood and another somber-looking man sat at a large conference table.
“What is the meaning of this?” Senator O’Mullens was not accustomed to someone else giving the orders.
“Thank you for coming, Senator. We won’t take up much of your time. I assume that your assistant is aware of the situation as it stands? May I speak freely?”
“State your business and be quick about it. I have a busy day planned and need to get a lot of work done before leaving town tomorrow.”
Captain Underwood was all diplomacy this morning. “Certainly, Senator. We don’t wish to waste any of your time. If you would be so kind as to roll up your sleeve and let Doctor Wright take a sample of your blood, you will be able to get on your way.”
“My blood? Why should I agree to this outrage? What if I refuse?”
“Should you say no, we have the authority to hold you here long enough for Lieutenant Jones here to go up to Judge Adler’s chambers and get a court order. In the meantime there would be enough of an outcry to alert the reporters in the building that there is probably a good story in here somewhere, and you know that once they start digging, they won’t quit until they have the whole story.
O’Mullens fairly screamed at her adversary. “You bastard! I should have known you wouldn’t leave me alone. I should just tell you to go to hell and let you spill the story. I can survive the publicity.”
“Very true. I have proof that you tried to kill me, but you could probably get off with a plea to aggravated assault, and the judge would undoubtedly give you a suspended sentence. But if the situation becomes public, your political life is finished. If they don’t throw you out of office, your effectiveness will have been destroyed, and the Foundation loses a valuable tool.”
Captain Underwood paused, then continued in a soft tone. “But Senator, I am not here to blackmail you, and I give you my word that this will be the last time I will ever approach you. We wish to know more about your ‘friends’, and we require a sample of blo
od to study. Unfortunately, you are the only one of the Chosen we know. We would be glad to get the sample from another. Just give us the names of some of the others and we will be glad to get in touch with them with our requests.”
The Senator sneered, “You son of a … You know what would happen to me if you informed anyone of my giving you even one member of our group. Never mind.” She was enough of a politician to know when she couldn’t win, and rolled up her sleeve. “Take your damn sample and get the hell out of my sight.”
The doctor worked swiftly to fill the syringe with her blood before she changed her mind. The three officers got to their feet and headed for the door.
“Underwood.”
Captain Underwood turned and studied the grim look on the Senator’s face.
“You know this isn’t over yet, don’t you?”
With that implied threat dangling in the air between them, the men walked out of the office door.
CHAPTER 10
Two days later on Friday morning, Captain Underwood was sitting at his desk trying to make a dent in the huge stack of papers in his IN basket when John Hurst stuck his head through the door. “Got a minute, Captain?”
“Hey, John. Sure, come on in.” Secretly relieved to put the drudgery of paperwork aside, even for a few minutes, Jim motioned him to a chair.
John and his partner, Don Hamilton, came through the door and plopped down on the dilapidated sofa covering one wall of the small office. Their feet automatically came up and banged down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. The captain had never been one for formality. Underwood finished signing the paper he had been working on, threw it into the OUT basket and turned to face the pair of detectives. “What ya got, guys?”
Hamilton flipped open his notebook and scanned the information. “We followed that old vampire broad to the airport this morning and watched her take off at 8:35. I called a friend on the force in Chicago and he verified that this conference is taking place at the Hyatt. He’s doing another background check on the group that’s sponsoring the conference. He should have more information this afternoon when he calls back to verify that the senator arrived.