by L Jan Eira
Fuller and Quentin nodded their heads.
Both the units proudly displayed their maker—MultiTech, Inc. There were several vials of medications. Jack scrutinized the drug-container labels and then said, “These vials of drugs with letters and numbers, like J-M-J-eight-one-six-six-one, L-F-J-six-five-nine, and J-A-C-two-one-zero-seven-two, and so on, are investigational agents that don’t have a real name yet.”
“What do we know about these experimental drugs?” said Fuller. “Can any of these make a man go crazy and start killing?”
“That’s the million-dollar question,” said Jack. “But L-F-J-six-five-nine does it to rats. I’m betting big money it also does it to humans.”
“How can we find out more about its effects in humans?” said Fuller.
Jack shrugged his shoulders. “The IRB paperwork for the experiments only provides general information about the drugs. To know more, we’ll need the actual files from the research team.”
“That we’ll get when the courts compel Rupert and the research lab to produce them,” said Fuller. “But it’ll take months, if we’re lucky.”
“I found purchase orders, delivery records, and invoices from MultiTech, Inc., about these contraptions,” said Fuller, looking through the papers in a folder he was carrying. “Ah, here they are.” He scrutinized one of the forms. “They manufactured two of each of these units. I only see one pair here. Where’s the other pair?” His eyes drifted from the papers inside the folders to the gaping eyes staring back at him.
“If we find the missing pair of these devices, we’ll have found the proverbial smoking gun,” said Quentin.
CHAPTER 29
The detectives walked with Jack into the hospital cafeteria. Jack found a small table away from the masses and walked toward that mostly deserted spot.
“We can have some privacy here,” he said, taking off his jacket. He hung it over a chair. The detectives mimicked him.
Having marked their territory, they passed through the cafeteria-style line and gathered their food. They sat down, eating and talking about the weather, life in Evansville, Newton Memorial Hospital, and what the institution had done for the community and county. Fuller reminisced about the time before the hospital was built. He discussed how the land where the hospital stood used to be a huge farm, although he was too young to have any concrete recollections. After a few heartbeats of slightly uncomfortable silence, the conversation turned to the business at hand.
Jack began. “What about Major Rooner and the other man, Muhammad Akrim?”
“We’re still waiting on the full information,” said Quentin. “We might have something by tomorrow.” She paused to take a bite of her burrito, then a sip of her iced tea.
Fuller continued. “So far, we know the major is a military career man who has been in several wars. He more or less fell off the end of the earth about three years ago. Apparently, he has been on some secret mission or assignment. The military is being hush-hush about the whole thing, but hopefully we can persuade them to give us more information. Our FBI connection, Agent Mike Ganz, is pursuing that issue.” Fuller took a bite of his pepperoni-and-cheese pizza and then wet his whistle with Diet Coke.
As if right on cue, Quentin resumed. “Muhammad Akrim is even more elusive. Apparently, he lives in the Middle East somewhere, probably Libya. Mike is also working on that through the FBI database.”
“This thing is bigger than meets the eye, isn’t it?” asked Jack.
Quentin and Fuller nodded. “I think so,” said Quentin.
Soon, the three were done with lunch, and the group disbanded. Jack had dreaded paperwork to finish in his office, and the detectives returned to the research lab to oversee the activities there.
Around four o’clock, Jack strolled down to his car and began his ride homebound. Claire would be done with her appointments by now.
Claire answered her cell phone. “I’m driving home. Are you done at the hospital?”
“I finally think we’re getting somewhere with this case,” announced Jack.
“What did you discover in the lab?”
“They have been working on several experimental drugs,” said Jack. He looked in his rearview mirror. A dark sedan was behind him. “Wait a minute, Claire.” He couldn’t make out the occupant. It was a well-dressed Caucasian man, wearing dark sunglasses.
Claire couldn’t wait any longer and was impatient. “What is it, Jack?”
“I think I’m being followed.” Jack peered intently into his rearview mirror. “Oh wait, never mind. I thought someone was tailing me, but I was wrong. He just turned right at the intersection.”
“Being followed?” asked Claire.
“No, never mind,” repeated Jack. “There was a big dark car behind me all the way from the hospital, and I thought he was following me. But he turned off. He’s no longer behind me.” Jack took a deep, relaxing breath. The prospect of being stalked had momentarily made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“Is this thing making you paranoid?” asked Claire.
“Yeah,” said Jack. “Maybe.”
“I’ve learned over the years to trust your instincts, Jack. If your gut tells you you’re being followed, I want you to be extra careful.”
“I must admit I was creeped out a moment ago.”
“Keep an eye out for that vehicle. Have you seen it before? Following you?”
“Yeah, maybe,” said Jack. “Not sure!”
“Don’t take any chances,” said Claire. “Be careful.”
CHAPTER 30
Jack needed to unwind. Doctor’s orders. The doctor ordered a trip to the clouds and beyond. Today was the perfect day to fill that prescription. The visibility was reported to be greater than six miles, and the skies were touted to have an overcast ceiling at five thousand feet. Beyond the white, fluffy, cottony clouds, there was the promise of a beautiful sunny day. While driving to Evansville Airport, Jack called ahead and asked for his airplane to be pulled out from its hangar into the apron.
“Hey, Doc,” greeted Steve Peski. Steve was in his midfifties with graying, disheveled hair. He was one of the ground-crew managers at the airport. His secret love affair with Jack’s airplane was obvious. Well, actually, it was no longer a secret at all.
“Good morning, Steve.” Jack walked toward the Beechcraft Bonanza. Steve approached.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” said Jack.
“I heard about the mess you all had at the hospital,” said Steve. “I’m glad you’re OK. I was worried about you. I mean, you could have been the one who was killed before you had a chance to leave me the Bonanza.”
“If I ever get killed, I’ll make sure to leave the airplane to you,” said Jack. Both smiled. Jack performed the preflight check, Steve right behind him every step of the way.
“In my dreams.”
Suddenly, Jack stopped and turned to Steve. “You know how I keep teasing you that I’ll let you fly her? How about today?”
“Are you kidding?” said Steve, a mouthful of teeth emerging. “Doc, don’t kid me like that. It’s not healthy. I may have a heart attack on you.”
“I’m serious. You take good care of her. You fly. I’ll take the right seat.”
In no time, both men were perched and strapped in their seats in the small cockpit. Jack gave Steve a quick once-over the instruments. Steve had not flown the Bonanza, but he was rated in similar airplanes. In no time, he was ready to go. He would require a little assistance for the first flight, and Jack was happy to oblige.
“Niner-eight-Golf-Kilo, ready to taxi with weather info Tango,” announced Steve into the microphone.
“Niner-eight-Golf-Kilo, taxi to runway one-eight via taxiway Alpha then Charlie, hold short runway Niner,” instructed the Evansville tower ground controller.
“One-eight via Alpha, Charlie, hold short Niner,” repeated Steve, increasingly proud and cocksure. With a little increase in throttle pressure, the beautiful airplane began to roll forward. Ste
ve’s smile was ear to ear as he followed the ground controller’s instructions. Soon the aircraft was positioned on runway one-eight, awaiting orders to take off.
“Niner-eight-Golf-Kilo, cleared for takeoff,” commanded the tower.
Steve gunned the engine, and the plane commenced its scamper down the runway. Soon they were airborne.
“Wow, she’s fast and smooth,” said Steve.
“That she is.” Jack smiled. “That she is.”
After about ten minutes, Steve spoke again. “So, what the heck happened at the hospital?”
“A patient shot one of the doctors and a nurse. They were both my friends.” Jack’s eyes moistened with tears. “He also killed a security guard.”
“I’m sorry, Jack. I should have realized it and—”
“That’s OK. I should talk about it,” said Jack. “It actually helps me.”
“That’s rough to lose your friends like that.”
Jack turned in his seat to face Steve. “Let me ask you a question.” Jack took a deep breath. “Do you ever get military aircraft landing here in Evansville?”
“All the time,” said Steve. “The military aviators have occasional drills around here and use the airport.”
“I’ve seen fighter jets flying around on occasion.” Jack’s jaw muscles tightened. “What about other military planes? Carrying brass?”
“We’ve seen the top brass come in sometimes,” said Steve. “They travel in full comfort. A major with the Marine Corps, who has been here twice recently, flew in a fully loaded Citation X.” Steve momentarily glanced over at Jack and then his eyes quickly returned to the cockpit instruments. “What a beautiful airplane. That baby was equipped with—”
“What would a major want with Evansville, I wonder?” The excitement in Steve’s voice was interrupted by Jack, his interest piqued.
“As a matter of fact, he wanted Newton Memorial Hospital,” said Steve. “I arranged the limo transportation myself. He had meetings with some famous doctor.”
“And you say he came twice?”
“Yeah, a few months ago and again about a week later, something like that.”
“Do you know who he came to see?” said Jack.
“I don’t remember now,” said Steve. “I have the name on file. His last name is also a first name. I remember that. A bit of a weird name.”
“Was it Rupert?”
“Yes, that’s it.” Steve nodded his head. “Rupert.”
“I wonder what Rupert wanted with the military, or what the military wanted with Rupert.”
“And soon after the major, another even more impressive bird flew in an international businessman to see Rupert. I took care of his Gulfstream G-5-5-0. Fueled it up and gave it a good cleaning.” Steve smiled big. “Beautiful plane. You should see the inside. Very plush.”
“What did he want with Rupert?”
“I don’t know that,” said Steve. “But I could tell it was big business. This man was from another country. He looked like he was from the Middle East somewhere. I remember thinking he had to be a prince or some very rich person. I remember the pilot filed a flight plan direct to Paris when they left.”
Jack frowned. “How many times did this guy come see Rupert?”
“Just that one time.”
“Anyone else unusual come to see Rupert or our fair little hospital?”
“No. Nobody. I have worked here for fifteen years. Nobody has asked me to set up a visit to Newton Memorial. Not before, not since.”
Jack thought a moment. “Steve, will you give me a call if any of these two jets ever return to Evansville?” Jack produced his business card on which he wrote his cell number and handed it to Steve.
“It’s the least I can do after you let me fly this beautiful bird.” And Steve began preparations for landing.
CHAPTER 31
A more appreciative grown man Jack had never met. Steve was so elated that Jack granted him his wish to fly the Bonanza that he wouldn’t shut up about it. With the single-engine Beechcraft now securely housed in the private hangar, Jack secured himself in his Lexus.
During the drive to the hospital, Jack again had the premonition of danger. As he drove, he frequently scrutinized the rearview mirror. There was the large dark sedan. Was he becoming paranoid?
Jack dug out his Treo from his pocket and made a call to Fuller and explained his recurrent paranoid feeling that a dark sedan had been following him. Fuller agreed to look into the matter. Jack also asked if he could go in for a visit with the detectives as he had information to share, information he had just learned at the airport.
Jack drove to police headquarters. He walked straight to the detectives’ office, where Fuller was stirring Jack’s Starbucks coffee.
“We proudly serve!” said Fuller, handing Jack the cup.
Jack took a long sip. “Good to the last drop.”
“Wrong coffee brand,” said Quentin. “So what did you find out?” She sat back on the sofa.
Jack took a sip and then put the coffee cup down. “I went flying today. Steve Peski, who is the manager at the airport, told me a Marine Corps Major Rooner and a foreign executive, Akrim, have been in to see Rupert over the last few months. The major came twice, Akrim just once. These visits occurred after the first few murders. I have exact dates of their arrivals.”
Jack pulled out some papers from his jacket’s inner pocket. These were copies of the flight logs at Evansville Airport. Fuller and Quentin approached Jack, their gaze on the papers in Jack’s hands. Fuller pointed to a large blackboard in the back of the room. “Let’s walk over to the drawing board.” Jack and Quentin followed him.
The blackboard displayed the time line of all the incidents they were investigating. The first unusual and unexplainable case the detective discovered was a bizarre medical situation that transpired on July 7 in Burkhart County, about fifty miles from Evansville. The victim’s name, Paul W. Clute, was written in red chalk. Under his name was written the date of the occurrence and the manner of death—sudden cardiac death with no structural heart disease, a diagnosis obtained from the death certificate with an editorial from Jack’s input. Under this was the location of the event, Redwood, Burkhart County. The other discovered cases of bizarre medical discrepancies and wacky homicides/suicides were likewise displayed in a time-line fashion to the right of the first incident. On that list were Floyd Sullivan, who died suddenly and unexpectedly on August 16 at Newton Memorial’s emergency department, and Joe McIntyre, who perished from a massive brain bleed at home on August 26, but not until he ruthlessly killed his wife in cold blood.
“The first visit from Major Rooner was on August fourteenth.” Jack paused, looking through his papers.
Quentin stood up and picked up a piece of chalk. She added to the timetable: “8/14/06—Major Rooner visits Rupert.” A drawn arrow indicated the point in time of the entry in relationship to all others. Akrim’s visits were likewise added.
“So where does this take us?” asked Jack, breaking the silence.
“We will talk to the DA and see if this is enough to get a warrant or, at the least, compel Rupert to come in and answer some questions,” said Fuller. “But first, we asked his head lab tech to talk to us.”
“James Miller,” said Quentin, consulting her notebook.
“I’ve met him at the research lab,” said Jack. “He seems real nice. He’s kind and helpful. Can I come along?”
Fuller nodded. “We really need a break in this case. Hopefully Miller will give us something helpful.”
CHAPTER 32
“Thanks for meeting with us on such short notice, Mr. Miller,” said Fuller.
The two local detectives were joined by Jack and Agent Ganz in the pleasant surroundings offered by the plush conference room in the research laboratory. This site was chosen purposely to allow Miller to be most relaxed and for all to have access to the lab equipment, should it become necessary. Miller waddled onto a chair with a glass of water in his hand. He yaw
ned as he sat down, apologizing for the indiscretion as he did, his right hand covering his mouth. All others sat comfortably at the table, each with a drink perched on a coaster in front of them. Jack noticed a faint reddened area on James’s right hand. The pleasantries and introductions had been completed a few moments earlier.
“Please, call me James,” he said. “It’s my pleasure to help in any way I can. These atrocities really shook us all to the core.” Miller spoke with a nasal tone of voice, but his words seemed true and from the heart.
“James, we have been chatting with hospital personnel from all departments to learn about the routine here and try to find some clues into the murders,” said Fuller, sitting back in the leather chair comfortably, his legs crossed, and his hands on his knees. “Had you noticed anything strange or out of place before September eighteenth, the day of the murders?”
“No, not at all.” Miller seemed mystified, speaking slowly, a look of concern on his face. “Like what? I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Anything out of the ordinary? Anyone or anything here that is usually not here? Anyone or anything missing that should have been here?” persisted Fuller.
“None that I can think of. It all seemed usual and routine.”
“What about the day of the murders or since then?”
Miller stopped for a moment, his mind churning for answers, and then shook his head. “I can’t think of anything unusual.”
Ganz sat up straight on the edge of his seat. “What about Dr. Rupert? Has he seemed strange or anxious about anything?”
“Oh yes. Dr. Rupert is always that way. He’s always worried about something. Always anxious that something will go awry. I have never seen a man with so much negative energy. He’s just a worrywart; that’s all there is to it,” said Miller, his last words intertwined with a yawn, provoking a smirk from the others. “I’m sorry I’m so tired. It’s been a tiring last few days.”