Days' End (21 page)

He locked the door behind him, thankful that no additional security measures appeared to have been taken. A burglar alarm would have put a very large fly in his ointment. The blinds were already closed, so he didn’t have to worry about anybody looking in and seeing him. Although the office was dim, he was still able to see and would now have the time to make a proper search of the premises.

Checking the computer files was impossible as the police had taken the hard drives with them to review at the station. There were also no day organizers, desk calendars, or client files. Alastair went through one drawer after another, but he could tell that he’d have to be lucky to find anything useful.

After four hours of hunting, Alastair had found nothing of interest in Mr. Stevens’ office. While frustrated, he hadn’t really expected to find a large treasure map sitting on the attorney’s desk with an enormous X to mark the spot to find Scario. He walked out of the lawyer’s office and sat at the receptionist’s desk to contemplate his next move. Where could he go from here? Who could he talk to?

As he grappled with these questions his eyes found the rolodex sitting on the corner of the reception desk. He might be able to find someone in there. He flipped through the cards, looking for anything he might recognize or that looked out of place. He skimmed through it once and found nothing. He was dejected, but decided to give it one more look. There it was, his one shred of hope. There was one card for a car service. He took the card and put it in his pocket, hoping that upon arrival at the airport Mr. Stevens had reserved a car to transport the doctors to the facility.

Alastair then wiped down all the surfaces he could remember touching and, as casually as he could manage, left the offices and locked the door behind him. He felt confident. He had two viable leads to pursue in his quest to find Nysa, the car service and through hacking. He’d spent so long feeling as if he were chasing his tail, but now his mind raced with possibilities and plans of attack. If one avenue didn’t work, he’d still have the other. However, to ensure his success, he decided to attack each as if it were his only hope. In this way, he hoped to maximize the chances of success.

November 30,

Outside Castle Rock, CO

The biggest news traveling through the labs that morning was the discovery of Dr. Leyden’s body the previous day. The cleaning crew had found him crucified to the wall above his bed. Only a few details of the violent death were known. His face was a mask of terror, eyes wide open staring at the empty room, mouth agape in a silent scream. The wall to which he had been nailed was stained with blood but, although the wound to his abdomen extended all the way through his back, there was no mark on the wall from the weapon. Blood flowed down his legs and dripped into a crimson pool on his pillow.

The maids who found him were silently and quickly removed from the premises—to where, nobody knew. Rumors flew around the facility, each as absurd as the next. Some people thought that he had done something to compromise the project and was eliminated for his insubordination, but the most outlandish Nysa heard was that Jacqueline had killed him in a jealous rage.

Nysa took the news hard. She had not been particularly fond of Dr. Leyden, but he was a fine doctor and a decent human being. While he was curt at times with her, Mary Alice, and Laura, she’d figured him for a lonely man who had trouble relating to others. She wanted to go to services for him, but she could find nobody who knew when, or even if, there was going to be a funeral for him. For that matter, nobody even seemed to know where the body had been taken. Nysa asked several of the people who appeared to work directly for Mr. Scario, including Bekki, but no one seemed to know anything about whether or not there would be an internment of any sort.

Nysa struggled with the apparent lack of remorse over Dr. Leyden’s death and the sense that the tragedy was disregarded not only by the staff of the facility, but the other members of the medical team, his own coworkers and peers. She decided to hold a silent vigil in her room. It seemed an absurdly small token, but it was better than nothing. She sat alone for roughly an hour before getting up and leaving her room.

She took a walk around the facility to clear her head. She needed to be back soon to go to the obstetrical appointment with Jacqueline, but she needed time to straighten her thoughts out. She made sure to not stray too far from the building as she didn’t want to run in to any of the guards. When it was time to meet Jacqueline, Nysa returned to her room, changed for the appointment, and escorted her friend to the clinic.

The baby was still progressing normally, so most of the appointment revolved around Restless Leg Syndrome and the constant pain in Jacqueline’s lower back. For both, the doctor recommended massage treatments. He advised her to make sure that the masseuse or masseur was one of the ones trained in pregnancy massage however, as they could inadvertently trigger a premature labor if they weren’t careful.

Jacqueline and Nysa both agreed that massages sounded like a good idea and walked together to the spa facilities, chatting idly about how the weather had turned much colder and how they were looking forward to getting home.

“Not that it’ll be much warmer where I’m headed to,” said Jacqueline as she walked onto the elevator and hit the button for the proper floor. “Maybe I’ll just go home with you to sunny southern California where people put sweaters on if it falls below seventy, which would be about twice a year from what I understand.”

“Don’t let all the talk fool you. It fell below seventy at least seven days last year, and I think it even fell below sixty one day. I couldn’t say for sure because I wouldn’t go outside. It looked much too cold for me.” They both laughed and walked into the spa.

It was a wonderful day of massage, milk baths, and facials. By the time they were done, any thoughts or sorrow over Dr. Leyden’s violent death had been temporarily forgotten. They finished up and went back to Jacqueline’s room. There they sat on the bed eating ice cream and watching old movies. Having gorged themselves on Häagen Dazs and still relaxed from the spa treatments, they both drifted off to sleep.

I am still trying to find out what happened to Dr. Leyden. I find the manner in which he died most disturbing. Who would do such a thing and why? For now my only option is to have the staff continue their investigation despite the lack of results thus far. Hopefully the medical team will forget about it and focus on their work. It’s not the fact that the good doctor was crucified that bothers me. It’s the lack of evidence and circumstances surrounding his murder that concern me. The missing mark on the wall that the staff seems to have become aware of is merely the tip of the iceberg. As of yet, the security team has been unable to locate the usage of a keycard to gain access to Dr. Leyden’s room. The logical answer to that problem is that the person who did this horrendous deed was known to the good doctor and he let the murderer into the room. That, however, does not explain the fact that there are also no keycard usages on the elevators to pick up nor drop off passengers during the timeframe in question. How did they get to his floor? How did they leave? There are no answers to these questions. The staff must not know of these mysteries. There is entirely too much talk as it is. If they find out about the other oddities it will only distract them further. Nothing can take their attention away from the task at hand. They must complete what they have started.

December 6, Castle Rock, CO

It took quite a few phone calls and numerous trips to the airport, but Alastair managed to confirm that the car company had in fact been used to transport the doctors to the facility. The car company manager told him that they did not have a record of the destination of the trips, only a point of origin. The scheduling clerk did remember that Mr. Stevens was quite secretive when it came to that information and paid quite handsomely to give it to the driver only at the time of pick up. Apparently Mr. Stevens had also insisted that only one driver be used to make all of the trips. That was all the information Alastair had been able to get out of her though.

Finding that driver’s name had proved to be a difficult task. The actual name of the driver had been acquired from one of the other employees. Alastair had gone to the airport and hunted down drivers from that company. Day in and day out he had gone there looking for drivers he’d not yet spoken to, either the person who’d done the actual driving or someone who knew who had. He’d finally found someone who recognized a picture of Nysa. The driver told Alastair that he remembered her because he’d wished he could be the one to give her a ride. He followed up the comment with a suggestive wink and a smile. Alastair had to fight the urge to punch the man in the nose.

It had been frustrating how long it had taken. Alastair had expected to find Nysa by now. Instead, he’d only managed to find the name of the person who had done the driving, but no contact information. A small victory, but even the smallest of accomplishment was something.

On his other front, after having to once again recruit his old friends into a life of crime, Alastair managed to locate the gateway into his program. He had been shocked, yet not surprised by the display of arrogance in Scario’s logon ID and password. It was common knowledge in the hacking world that most individuals were less than creative in their selection of IDs and passwords, but Scario’s went beyond the normal lack of security. Alastair had managed to hack into the building’s security systems in less than five minutes.

During his earlier conversation with his father about Scario being “The Betrayer,” Carl had proposed that Scario was in fact a shortened version of his real name. While Alastair thought it an odd alias, he tried the full name they’d discussed. Scario had actually used his first name as his logon and his last name as his password. How egotistical could one get?

After getting in, Alastair had used the backdoor he’d placed into Unique and accessed the programming of the system. He needed to refamiliarize himself with the workings of the system in order to find a way to sneak in physically. After a few hours playing with the coding, he decided to actually take a look at the security in place within the compound. If he managed to find the location of the building, he’d need to see what he’d be up against when he arrived.

He was distraught by what he saw.

December 10,

Outside Castle Rock, CO

“Mr. Scario wants to induce delivery early,” stated the doctor after he examined Jacqueline and the baby.

“Why?” asked Jacqueline and Nysa in unison.

“He figures that his employees would like to go home for Christmas. Once the baby is delivered, the project is complete. Then everyone is free to go.”

“Is there any danger to the baby?” inquired Jacqueline, placing her arms protectively across her belly.

“Not much,” replied the doctor hesitantly. “It’s not uncommon to induce labor, just usually not this early. As for the baby’s health, I’m not too concerned. He seems to be growing quite strong. I would guess he’s about five pounds and eighteen inches long. Over the next two weeks he’ll put on roughly two pounds and his lungs should mature. A seven pound baby has excellent chances of survival.”

“So why do you seem reluctant to induce, Doctor?” asked Nysa.

“I don’t ever like to induce delivery early. The only time I believe it should be done is when the mother or baby is at risk. In this case, neither of you have any condition that would necessitate my inducing labor early.”

“Did you tell Mr. Scario what you think?”

“I told him my feelings on the subject, yes. But I’m sure you know that Mr. Scario has a certain agenda and he’s not going to let my objections stand in his way.” He put up his hand as the women started to object. “He knows that the baby and mother are both in good health, and that the baby will most likely thrive, even if born today. He knows more about your current condition, and the condition of the child, than almost anyone here, including you two. In fact, I’m meeting with him as soon as I’m done here.” Nysa and Jacqueline exchanged a quick glance at the news. Seeing the quizzical look the doctor continued. “He requires updates after every examination. He reads all of my medical reports and even asks additional questions if I happen to leave something out. He’s meticulous in his following of you and your baby. He wants his Christmas Eve baby and he’s going to have it. I agreed because I have been watching the development of you and the baby over the last thirty-two weeks. I feel it would be unfair of me to pass you off to another doctor this late in your pregnancy. Also, should there be any complications, I want to be there. He chose me for the same reason he chose you Nysa, I’m the best at what I do.” The doctor wheeled himself backward, away from the examination table, removing his gloves as he slowed to a stop. “Now, if neither of you have any more questions or concerns, I prescribe another spa treatment for the both of you.” The doctor winked and turned to go.

“Won’t they need to see the prescription?” Jacqueline asked jokingly.

The doctor wheeled around, pulled his prescription pad from his pocket, scribbled a note, dropped it on the bed next to Jacqueline, and turned and left the room. She picked it up and read it, giggled and showed it to Nysa. It read: 2 massages of 90 minutes each and see me next Friday, 9:00 A.M. sharp.

“It’s good to see there are still doctors out there with a sense of humor,” Jacqueline said getting up. She quickly dressed then tugged on Nysa’s arm. “Let’s go, these are some doctor’s orders I can definitely follow.”

December 10, Castle Rock, CO

Alastair had been up working steadily over the last few days studying the various security elements installed at the secret facility. As best he could tell, and as best as his small network of friends could tell, there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell he’d be able to break in to find Nysa. In order to get in, the first obstacle he’d have to overcome would be the patrolling guards. He’d seen them while flipping through some of the security cameras. It appeared they were heavily armed. Although he wasn’t familiar enough with rifles to tell what, exactly, they were carrying, he guessed it would be extraordinarily uncomfortable to be shot regardless of the firearm used.