Текст книги "Heartless"

Автор книги: Patrick T. Phelps

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

It was only a few minutes after he had ended his call with Ralph that Derek heard the unmistakable sounds of twigs breaking and footfalls scurrying on the path to his right. He crouched down behind a bush and held his breath as a figure came into view. His obstructed view only revealed that it was a man, tall and slender, who was heading his way. He thought at first about opening his backpack, removing his gun, and to ready himself for an attack, but then remembered that, though his backpack was in reach, it contained no firearm.

He sat, motionless and as quietly as he could, as the man moved closer. Then he saw the man stop. Derek could see that whoever it was, he too was surveying the hospital, looking for any signs of movement. After what Derek considered to be much too short of a delay, Derek watched the man disappear down the steep hill and towards the rear of the hospital. A minute later, he saw the young man dart towards the hospital, his path leading him straight towards a set of iron stairs leading to a door.

The young man climbed the stairs quickly and pulled hard on the metal door. It opened in surprising silence. As the man turned over his shoulder, perhaps making sure that no one had seen him, Derek saw the man’s face clearly.

“Thomas,” Derek thought. “Son of a bitch.”

After again surveying the area, Derek made his way down the hill. When he reached the parking lot, he bolted across the lot, up the stairs, and to the door. He paused and listened for any noise on the other side of the door before pulling it open. He stepped inside to near absolute darkness.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

It was the sound of the knocking that brought Straus back to consciousness. Gentle, rhythmic knocking. His mind was too cloudy to accurately assign the direction of the knocking, but he was sure it was coming from the hallway door.

 “Let me in!” He heard the knocker’s voice say in an urgent tone.

Straus then felt the grip that he was unaware was still holding his head release. His body crumbled onto itself, sending a newly discovered stream of pain through his left shoulder.

Straus heard the bolt and latches of the door being pulled back, the door being opened then shut and secured again.

“Where’s my father?” the voice sounded. “What did you do with my father?”

“He has, I’m sure, found peace at last,” the familiar voice of Alexander whispered.

The next sound Straus heard was a scream followed by what he imagined a barroom brawl should sound like. The brawl lasted but seconds before a large and pronounced thud filled the room. Then a groan and the sound a body makes when it is being dragged across a floor.

Though unable to move without pain waiting for him, Straus lifted his head off the mattress just in time to see Alexander dropping a body onto the mattress beside Straus. The impact of the body falling onto the bed uncovered an entirely new set of discovered pain in Straus’s rib cage. He tried to scream in agony, but his cry was cut short by Alexander’s hand covering his mouth.

“You were about to tell me the rest of the story, I believe,” Alexander said.

Alexander replaced his grip on Straus’s hair and lifted Straus back into a semi upright position.

“The rest of the story now, if you please, Doctor Straus.”

The battery-powered lantern’s light was growing dimmer and began to flicker.

Alexander again released his hold of Straus’s hair, stood and walked out of the room. Straus heard him fumbling through bags in the other room before returning with a package of fresh “D” sized batteries.

“I honestly didn’t expect to have so many visitors,” Alexander said as he replaced the dying batteries in the lantern. When he spoke again, the lantern jumped back to life and filled the room with a warm, yellowish light. “Recognize him?” he said, pointing to the person laying beside Straus on the mattress.

Straus looked at the bloodied face of the young man laying unconscious beside him.

“No. I don’t recognize him.”

“That,” Alexander said before moving towards a chair positioned at the foot of the bed, “is my long-lost brother. You two actually met a while back. That day you were so generous to allow me time at the lake, we passed a stranger who seemed to appear out of thin air. That stranger was my brother. We had arranged that seemingly coincidental meeting. You see, Doctor, I grew bored and restless of reading the stream of books you provided me. Make no mistake, they were all appreciated, but when I happened to come into the possession of a device that allowed unfettered access to the Internet, books seem too antiquated for my attention.

“Facebook is absolutely amazing, don’t you agree? Couple it with email, and the world and all of its citizens are practically within reach.”

“How did you get a device that was connected to the net? Who gave it to you?” Straus demanded.

“You had left me alone when my father paid a visit. During that visit, he spelled out his plan of action. While I only pretended to share an interest in seeing his plan through to its profitable ending, my father was resolute in blackmailing you and the rest of the doctors involved in my life. So resolute that, I am afraid to say, he lost his perspective along with a healthy amount of suspicion.

“My father, Doctor Straus, gave me a Smartphone. And with that amazing piece of technology, I gained access to a world well beyond the control of anyone. Millions upon millions of names, articles, books, news items, images, instructions, and vehicles to contact long-lost friends and relatives rested in my hands. Your fear of entering my bedroom made concealment a very simple matter. A few times, I actually left the device connected to its charger on my nightstand while having conversations with you through the glass and steel bedroom door.

“My brother was, understandably skeptical  of my request to keep our engagement a secret at first. But, bless him, he never approached our father or mother for confirmation. Instead, he conducted his own bit of research and discovered that our father was keeping something secret. That something, of course, was his knowledge of me.

“I contacted my twin brother through Facebook and filled him in on my life. It took a while but Thomas sent me an email, stating that he was going to make contact with me, face to face. I suggested that doing so would involve too much risk. I then suggested that he gain access to my room using the hidden trap door that was recently installed beneath my bed.  Yes, Doctor Straus, I’ve had access to the outside world for quite a while. That was yet another revelation that you would have discovered if you hadn’t been paralyzed with fear and had actually entered my bedroom. That day we encountered him on the street outside of your lodge, Doctor Straus, was just the very first of several meetings.

“True to his word, Thomas never told a soul, not even our parents, that he knew about me and that he and I were devising a plan of our own. While my father’s plan was focused solely on financial gain, the plan my twin brother and I concocted was entirely about exposing the truth. My plan, however, differed from his.

“If I may pat myself on my back, the genius on my part was the successful blending of the two plans into the only plan that mattered. That plan, of course, being mine. I’m sure you’ve guessed that my plan had nothing to do with financial reward or exposure but was singularly focused on the list of names that, one by one, were crossed off.

“One of my most challenging obstacles to overcome, and the one that I am most pleased with, was figuring out how to time the executions of my father’s and my brother’s plan. It did take some convincing and more than a bit of deception to have my brother follow a late addition to the plan. But I needed him to delay. He had planned for me to escape several days before my father told me that his plan would have you all but offer yourself up to me in the quiet solitude of your lodge. I convinced Thomas that we needed a contingency plan if his plan failed. Poor brother. I had him marking trails I knew I would never tread on and leaving supplies hidden on those trails that I would never be in need of.

”I learned about how you and your hit men contributed to my list’s exhaustion from my father. How he learned that it was you behind the murders of Rinaldo and Zudak, I’m afraid will forever remain a mystery. But, I do thank you for your contribution, though I wish you hadn’t gone to so much trouble.”

The look that shot across the distorted face of William Straus was evident. Alexander knew that look needed further exploration.

“I expected surprise but not the look of shock and despair that I see in your bloody and bruised face. It is too bad you didn’t pack any instant ice packs. Your face is in dire need of something to reduce the swelling.”

Straus said nothing.

“I hope I didn’t damage your tongue, Doctor. It would be a shame if you find yourself unable to finish your delightful story. My curiosity remains piqued.”

“Untie me and I will tell you the rest,” he mumbled, each movement of his jaw sending streaks of pain.

“Considering the disabled position you are in, coupled with the fact that I know you are unarmed, I am willing to comply with your request. Yes, I did find your weapon tucked neatly inside of your bag. You shouldn’t have left it so far away. A better place would have been in what they call an ‘inner waistband holster.’”

Alexander moved slowly towards the side of the bed, the smell of his decomposing body preceding him. As he bent over and began to untie the knot, he leaned in close to Straus.

“Any attempt to leave the comfort of this bed will result in something awful, Doctor Straus.”

Seconds later, Straus felt blood rushing back into his left hand, creating a deep, burning sensation. He lifted his hand and rubbed it with his right hand, hoping to massage away the pain.

“Now,” Alexander said after returning to his chair, “you were about to say?”

“Your body is decomposing,” Straus offered, the pain in his left hand slowly dissipating.

“I will grant you that one time delay. You probably don’t recall, but you’ve already told me that part of the story. I’m much more interested in the rest.”

“If I tell you, do you promise to let me leave?”

“No,” Alexander replied. “I make no such promise. I do promise that if you don’t tell me, I will crush every bone left unbroken in your face, however.”

“If you kill me, you will die within hours. Let me leave, and I promise to tell you how to prevent your death.”

“You are suggesting that I let you walk free from this place that you love so, walk down to your car where you will certainly drive as fast as your car will go, and wait with baited breath for you to tell me the rest of the story? Honestly, Doctor Straus. What do you take me for, a fool?”

“Not a fool, just someone who has no other options. You let me leave, and I will leave a note where my car is parked, telling you everything you need to know and to do to save your life. And, I will tell you that you actually now have everything you need to save your life right in this very room.”

Alexander glanced at Thomas O’Connell, who was slowly coming back to reality.

“That explains the look on your face when I told you that it was my brother sharing the bed with you. I must assume that he holds the key to my survival.”

“Let me leave, and I’ll tell you what you need to know,” Straus said, his voice hiding the excruciating pain radiating throughout his body.

“I find myself with no assurances,” Alexander said as Thomas opened his eyes.

“The only assurance I will give you is that you will die if you don’t let me leave.”

“I require more.”

“Isn’t the fact that I’ve always kept my promises to you enough?”

“You have been a man of your word,” Alexander said. “But your promises were what positioned you, my brother, and me in this dilapidated suite of rooms. Your promises, though always held, are the reasons my life was and is nothing more than a series of experiments. Of isolation. Of misery. Your promises, Doctor Straus, are the precise reasons why I may rather kill you and with your death, assure my own potential demise, rather than to see you walk free.

“You are asking me to trust you, Doctor Straus? Trust? You never entertained even the possibility that I wanted to have at least a chance at a real life. You presented yourself to me as my protector, my savior, when all along you were nothing but my captor. I was nothing more than your chance at fame. I know it wasn’t you who stole me from my family, but it was you who kept me from them. You could have said something. You could have kept the promise you made when you swore your oath to become a doctor. What of that promise, Doctor Straus?”

Thomas O’Connell had sat up and was quietly listening to the conversation between his brother and Doctor Straus. Neither noticed that Thomas held a gun in his hand, but both heard the loud knocking at the door.

CHAPTER FORTY

Derek turned on his Maglite once he heard Thomas’s footsteps pounding up the stairway. He took no time to inspect the near vacant loading docks as he made his way across the area and into the stairway. He paused only at the bottom of the flight to listen to Thomas’s steps. He heard a door creak open two floors above him then he heard nothing.

The stairway was littered with discarded papers, broken glass, and pieces of insulation. As Derek made his way up the stairs, he turned off his flashlight, not wanting to give Thomas any visual signs of his approach. He paused after each step, straining his ears to hear. When he reached the second floor landing, he heard Thomas knocking on a door and demanding to be let in.

Silently, he craned his neck into the hallway, just in time to see Thomas walk through an open doorway and just in time to hear the door’s lock screech back into position.

He paused, catching his breath before moving towards the door. In his hands he held his small flashlight and a seven-inch, serrated, fixed-blade Gerber knife.

“Hope I’m not bringing a knife to a gun fight,” he thought to himself as he reached the door. “I wonder if this is a situation that Ralph would consider me leaving a better option than me staying.”

He pressed his ear against the cool, steel door. Though muffled, he could hear Thomas arguing with someone. He heard a voice return Thomas’s demands. A voice so weak, so thin that Derek questioned if the person Thomas was speaking with was preparing to make the great leap into the unknown.

He then heard a yell, followed by a quick scuffle. The thud sent vibrations into Derek’s legs.

He backed away from the door and stood in the pitch-black silence. His army and police academy training screamed at him to call for backup. He knew his life may very well depend on his next decision. And as he weighed the decision to either get help or to get into the room, Derek thought of Lucy and the look she would give him whenever he told her about his day at work. She never liked the risks he and the other members of the police force were expected to take on a daily basis.

“Risks are part of the job,” he would tell her. “And, we never go into a situation without backup.”

Now, standing in a dark hallway, the only glimpse of light coming from a setting sun and filtered through a dusty and smudged window at the hallway’s end, he knew he had no backup. Only Ralph knew where he was, but no one knew the option he was considering. He had no set plan if he were able to gain access to the room. No strategy. No emergency plan. But Derek was driven by his sense of responsibility. He was paid to keep Thomas O’Connell safe, and while Derek thought he may have been set up by the O’Connells, he didn’t know for certain. What he did know was that the person he was charged to keep safe was behind the locked door in front of him.

Derek Cole walked up to the door and knocked loudly several times.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

“Popular place, this Ward C is,” Alexander said. As he turned away from the door and towards Straus and Thomas, he shuddered when he saw that Thomas was pointing a revolver directly at his head.

“If you so much as move towards me, I will blow your brains out.”

“You have my full attention,” Alexander said.

The knocking at the door resumed.

“Tell me,” Thomas said, “what did you do to my father?”

“You mean ‘our father?’”

The person knocking at the door switched from using his knuckles to pounding on the door with this fist.

“What did you do to him?” Thomas demanded.

“He was on the list.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“You also are on the list, dear brother.”

Despite Straus’s prognosis, Alexander’s reflexes remained insanely sharp. He leaped towards Thomas, driving his shoulder into Thomas’s chest. The shot fired came a half of a second too late, the bullet found no flesh, only concrete.

With little resistance, Alexander wrenched the revolver from Thomas’s hands. Straus, sensing an opportunity, bolted towards the door. He reached the door, slid the bolt free, lifted the steel bar-bracing and pulled open the door. His way was blocked by a man he’d never seen. Then his movement was halted by the bullet entering his lower back, ripping through his muscles and sending him to the floor. He lay half in the hallway and half still in the hub room of Ward C.

“Kindly step into the room,” Alexander said as he continued moving closer to the door, pointing the revolver directly into Derek’s chest. “And, if it isn’t too much to ask, kindly drag the good doctor inside as well.”

Derek, having learned to obey the commands of anyone pointing a gun at his chest, stepped into the room with his arms raised. He then grabbed William Straus’s legs and dragged him out of the hallway.

“I hope to learn your name,” Alexander said.

“My name is Derek Cole. I’ve been hired by your father and your brother to protect them from you.”

“I honestly never expected to cross paths with you, Mr. Cole. But I do know about you. You have been played a fool, I’m sorry to inform you. Have you yet deduced that you were not hired as a protector but as nothing more than one of my dearly departed father’s minions?”

“I kind of figured that out, but, here I stand in the same room with you and a person I was charged to protect,” Derek said.

“You have not done a good job, Derek Cole,” Alexander said. “My father’s intense greed caused him to have a very fiery death. As for my brother here,” he said, gesturing behind him and towards Thomas, “he seems to have lost his will.”

“Alexander,” Derek said, “I am not claiming to know everything that happened to you, but I do know enough to understand how you must feel.”

“Feel about what, exactly?”

“About feeling the need for revenge. I met with Mark Rinaldo and Michelle Mix. They told me what they did to you. I know that you’ve killed Rinaldo and Zudak, along with the others, but ...”

“Oh no, no, no, Derek Cole,” Alexander said, inviting Derek to follow him out of the hub room and into the bedroom by waving the revolver towards the bedroom. “You’ve not done a good job with your understanding of your charged responsibilities at all. I didn’t kill Mark Rinaldo or Henry Zudak. The man at your feet was the cause of their deaths. I can claim others as my trophies, but I cannot in good faith claim the fine doctors of Saint Stevens.”

Derek glanced down at Straus. He was still breathing, moaning in both pain and astonishment.

Things began to fall in place. Though he had no idea how Straus had killed Rinaldo and Zudak, it made more sense that someone else had murdered the doctors in Chicago rather than Alexander.

“Please,” Alexander said, “you appear to be quite confused. I think you deserve to know the truth. And it just so happens that my brother, Doctor Straus, and I can answer your questions. Please, continue dragging the good doctor into my old bedroom.”

Straus squealed in pain when Derek grabbed his legs and began dragging him into the bedroom. The bullet hit no major organs but lodged itself deep inside of William Straus’s ass.

When all four were in the bedroom, Alexander positioned himself in the doorway, preventing any escape.

“Doctor Straus,” Alexander whispered, his voice becoming weaker with each word spoken, “would you be more comfortable if Derek Cole were to prop you up in a chair?”

“You’re gonna die, you bastard,” Straus said.

“Not before you do,” Alexander replied. “Tell us about how you killed Mark Rinaldo and Henry Zudak. And please inform us as to why you did not send Stanley Mix to the same fate as his partners?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Straus said through grimaces of pain.

“Now Doctor, remember that I told you that I read Doctor Lucietta’s journal while I was waiting for him in his office before the meeting I had scheduled with him? What you may not have been aware of was that he took copious notes of your and his conversations. Complete with the details of your plans to avoid any ramifications of your actions. So, please, Doctor, do tell Mr. Cole here about how you nearly pulled off the perfect murders.”

Thomas had recovered his clear thinking. He moved closer to Alexander, who responded only by raising the revolver and pointing it directly at Thomas’s head.

“Need I remind you that your name appears on my lists?” Alexander said as Thomas backed away. “Doctor Straus? Please do not keep Derek Cole waiting. Proceed with your recounting.”

Straus began to detail how, when he received the call from Ken O’Connell, he contacted an associate of his who was known to have “connections.” He explained how he planned to counter Ken’s scheme of blackmail by eliminating everyone who had knowledge of Alexander Black. He said that when he realized that Alexander had killed Jacob Curtis and Peter Adams, he set his focus on convincing Brian Lucietta to deny everything and to eliminate Rinaldo, Zudak, and the Mixes. Both Michelle and Stanley.

“I didn’t want to have to hurt Michelle, but she knew too much. Problem was that they couldn’t be found. Rinaldo was easy. My friend told me that they found him sitting at home in his living room, drunk as a skunk. My friend told me that finding Zudak took some time, but that he had made the mistake of staying at a hotel that is often used by people running from something.

“They never found Mix. Have no idea where he and his hot little wife ran off to. No matter. I hear that he is on his death bed anyway. As for Michelle, I doubt that she really cares about what happens and probably won’t say a word to anyone.”

Alexander smiled at Derek.

“And now, should you wish for full disclosure, I invite my twin brother to explain his role in the deceptive plot.”

Thomas was quick to begin his explanation, giving details about his plan to free Alexander and then to expose the doctors and their illegal and immoral activities.

“I only wanted justice. I never wanted anyone to get hurt.” Thomas turned toward Derek and continued. “I needed to convince you that I was truly concerned for my life. I had no idea that my father’s plan was to extort money from the doctors. Honestly, I had no idea.”

The stench of death and decay was growing too powerful for the windowless rooms. Derek needed to cover his mouth and nose in an attempt to keep out the stench and to keep in the vomit that was threatening to escape.

“You are probably wondering what the horrible smell is, aren’t you Derek?” Straus asked.

“Now that you mention it,” Derek said.

“Our heartless captor here is dying a very smelly and soon-to-be-painful death. See, I injected a virus into his cells a few weeks back and discovered that the virus was having quite an unexpected and drastic effect on poor Alexander Black. I did, however, offer to provide a solution in exchange for my release. But I must assume that his brain is in a state of rapid decay because instead of allowing my release, he shot me in the ass.”

“Your death will be much more painful if you do not tell me the cure,” Alexander said.

As he spoke, Alexander began to shake and drift from side to side.

“It won’t be long now,” Straus said.

The next bullet that entered the body of William Straus hit his right knee dead center, shattering his kneecap and spilling a disturbing volume of blood.

“The next shot will award you with matching knees,” Alexander whispered. “The cure, Doctor Straus. Now.”

“In . . .my. . .bag,” Straus said, struggling to apply pressure to his femoral artery.

Alexander, keeping the revolver trained on Straus, backed out of the bedroom and into the hub. On the shelving that ran the length of the two-way mirrors, Alexander spotted a black leather bag. He grabbed the bag and returned to the bedroom.

When he was back in the room, Thomas was standing over Derek, who had removed his shirt and was using it as a tourniquet on Straus’s leg. The flow of blood diminished to a trickle, but Straus was slipping in and out of consciousness and had all the signs of someone preparing to stop slipping and of staying on the unconscious end of the slide.

Alexander pulled the leather bag open and saw a small, black box sitting beside three syringes still in their sterile wrappings. He stood straight, pointed the gun at Straus’s left knee.

“Tell me now, Doctor. My patience is at an end.”

“Open the black box,” Straus mumbled, his eyes rolling back. “Three vials inside. Your old blood. Inject the vial labeled ‘Plan C’ into your neck.”

Alexander broke open the black box, found the vial marked ‘Plan C’ written on it with a grease pen. He tore open one of the syringes, used it to draw from the vial. Once the vial was filled, he turned to Straus.

“And this is all that I will need?”

“Not all,” Straus said.

“Then what else?”

“Your brother has a fresh supply of blood. You’ll need to consume at least two pints.”

Alexander turned towards Thomas and pointed the gun towards his gut.

“It seems that I am still in need of our heart, dear brother.”

Thomas backed away, tipping over the chair and falling onto the ground. As Alexander moved closer to improve his aim, Derek grabbed the seven-inch knife he had concealed in the small of his back and in one quick and trained moved, plunged the entire knife into Alexander’s neck.

Alexander fell forward onto the bed, holding the back of his neck with his left hand. Derek leaped towards Alexander, hoping to secure the gun. As he landed on top of Alexander, Derek discovered that, despite having a deep and what would be a fatal stab wound in any other person, Alexander’s strength was still much greater than his. With a single thrust of his arm, Derek was thrown off the bed and landed hard on the floor a few feet away from where Straus had slipped into unconsciousness.

Alexander stood, aimed the gun at Derek, and pulled the trigger.