The Doctor pulled up one of the chairs from the corner of the room and sat down beside her. There was no need to take any notes. He knew they were being recorded by hidden microphones and video cameras.
"Why don't we introduce ourselves to each other properly…I'm Dr Smiles…there, we're almost friends already. What is your name then young lady?"
"Fiona…Fiona Cohen…"
"And where do you work Fiona?"
"At the Washington Post…"
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In spite of herself Fiona couldn't stop from wanting to answer the old man's questions. Every time he asked her something, she felt an overwhelming urge, almost a compulsion, to answer him. She couldn't help but like him. She felt drawn to him. His voice was so soft, so friendly. He reminded her of her father. So kind…so patient…
She wanted to tell him everything…
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"…And then after you left Kerrin in the pizza restaurant you were walking back to the office to get the parcel, when the policemen picked you up?" Dr Smiles asked, obviously very interested in her story.
"Yes…but they weren't policemen, they were not nice…"
Fiona was proving to be a most helpful subject. Far more helpful than her cousin had been. Unfortunately, from what Dr Smiles had learned from the two ladies, it seemed that they knew far too much. It was unlikely that after the interrogation he would be able to sign the release forms as he had initially hoped for. The risk would be far too great. Meanwhile, until they were sure that no one else was involved and until he heard for certain that they had brought in the last member of the group, he would have to keep them alive.
"Can you tell me where you put the parcel that you just mentioned, Fiona?"
"Yes, I would like to…" She replied, and Fiona proceeded to tell him exactly where it was.
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Room 232
Day Twenty-Three
The Easy Motel
Maryland
Kerrin slept only fitfully during the night. He was tired and exhausted, both mentally and physically, but whenever he closed his eyes and started to dream, he had repeated visions of Dana being taken away in the big white van.
He could see her reaching out towards him through two open rear doors, waving and calling after him, begging for him to rescue her. Then David Sonderheim would appear in the van beside her, smile at Kerrin and then close the doors from the inside.
That's when he woke up…, but only to dream the same dream again and again whenever his eyelids closed and sleep overcame him.
He felt lost. He missed her so much. He needed her…and he knew how much fear she must be going through just now. She would be worried sick. If she was still alive…
He dismissed the thought as soon as it entered his mind, jumping from the bed and splashing cold water over his face in the bathroom. He lay on the bed again and tried to relax. He needed to be calm so that he could make plans.
By now they would have discovered that there was no body in the burnt out car, and they would have resumed the hunt for him. He would now be their No.1 priority. And as soon as they had him, it would be all over.
He knew that for as long as he was free, they would not harm Fiona or Dana. Kerrin was no fool. He knew that they would use Dana, and his love for her, as a weapon against him, but as long as they couldn't contact him, they couldn't threaten him. In the meantime they would not harm her. He was sure of that. They would not do anything as long as Kerrin was still free and posed a threat to them.
It would be hard, but he knew that he must make no contact with Dana's captors until he had something to bargain with.
At least as long as he was free, there was hope.
An hour later, as Kerrin lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, the first rays of dawn slowly beginning to creep into the room, two simple words jumped into his mind.
"The parcel!"
Kerrin suddenly remembered the parcel that Fiona had been trying to fetch for him when she was captured.
In that moment, he knew what it was that he had to do.
He had to retrieve the parcel from the Washington Post at all costs.
And he had to get to it before the others did.
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Four Hours Later
Washington D.C.
It was a risk, but doing nothing was probably worse. He had no choice. He looked at himself one more time in the mirror. A stranger stared back. There was no way anyone was going to recognize him in his disguise.
Flushing the toilet for effect, he opened the door of the toilet in the pizza restaurant, and walked out past the lunchtime diners. Heartened by the fact that even Luigi, his friend and the owner of the restaurant, still hadn't recognized him in his black beard and wig, he left the restaurant, walked around the corner and down the road to the entrance to the Washington Post.
Approximately six hundred people worked in the big eight-storied office building, and the guards at the security desk at the front of the building had no way of knowing the faces of all the employees. They only ever tried to stop and question those who looked lost, or were obviously somewhere they shouldn't be. When Kerrin walked up to one of the turnstiles, inserted his security identification card, and slid through the barrier as it opened in front of him, no one took any notice or tried to stop him.
Dressed in a big black coat, to complement the beard, hair and glasses, he walked with a slight hunch, so that he appeared a few inches shorter than his true height.
He walked quickly along the marble floored entrance lobby, deciding to take the third elevator, near the back of the hall. He pressed the 'call' button.
It was twelve thirty. Lunch time. Most people on his floor would be out. There should be hardly anybody there.
The elevator doors opened and a few people stepped out, including his friend and boss, Paul. For a second Kerrin was tempted to stop him, but as he brushed past without recognizing Kerrin in his disguise, he thought better of it. He didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself just now.
He rode the empty elevator up to the sixth floor, which gave him the opportunity to take off his disguise and stuff it into the pockets of his coat without drawing funny looks from anyone. The elevator bell 'dinged', and Kerrin stepped out onto his floor.
He glanced about quickly, and was pleased to see only a handful of people dotted around the large open plan office. In twenty minutes time, when people returned from lunch, there would be over one hundred people here, all shouting and screaming at each other, and tapping away on their keyboards, creating the slogans and copy which would fill tomorrow’s paper. But for now, there were only thirteen or fourteen.
He walked quickly over to his desk, checking to see if there was anything of interest on it.
Nothing. Just the bills and crap that Fiona had told him about.
He made his way through the rows of desks and computers towards Fiona's desk in the corner at the back of the floor, about thirty yards away from the elevators.
A few people looked up from their desks, waved at him absentmindedly and then got back to their screens. Kerrin waved back.
"Kerrin…is that you?"
A voice behind him caught his attention.
'Oh no, it's Ed Harper!' Kerrin realized with dread. This was the last thing he needed just now.
A good looking young man with yellow braces, and a white shirt and smart yellow tie which had been loosened considerably around his neck, came bounding over to Kerrin.
"Hi there…where have you been? It's good to see…did you see our article? Wow, there's so much going on…and did you see our follow up article yesterday? So what's this big article you're working on now…need any help?"
"Woooaaahh… one question at a time!" Kerrin lifted his hands up in the air. "Why are you so excited?"
"Because you're back! I've got some good stuff for you to look at!"
"I'm sorry, kid…I'm very busy at the moment…" Kerr
in tried to break off the assault from the younger generation.
The look of disappointment in the young man's eyes was almost palpable.
"Oh…oh…I'm sorry…I just thought you might want to see what I'd written on the follow up to our utilities story…"
Kerrin didn't want to start. This wasn't the time or the place, but he couldn't hold back any longer.
"What do you mean 'ours'? And come to think of it, what the hell happened to my name on the first article you wrote? That was my material…"
"Oh no…sorry…shit, that was a mistake…no, please, don't be mad…that was a mistake…look, I can show you the original article… it's got your name on it…honestly… some fool in typesetting knocked it off because it screwed up the layout…The first I heard about it was after they'd gone to print…I was out for a couple of days, and didn't get a chance to check it beforehand…! Anyway, I made up for it yesterday, look, see, here's yesterday's story, and look, I did put your name on it!"
As he was speaking Kerrin had reluctantly followed Ed back to his desk, where he had swooped up a copy of yesterday's paper and was now thrusting it out towards him. Sure enough, there was the article that Fiona had mentioned yesterday at lunch, the photograph of Nigel Small taking up the top left hand corner of the page, with the story spread over both page four and five. And there was his name right alongside Ed's.
"…But I had nothing to do with this story…it was all yours…" Kerrin stumbled.
"…What do you mean…I thought we were working on this as a team… Paul said that you would be my mentor, and that…"
Kerrin was getting a bad feeling. The man in front of him was little more than a kid in big shoes. An amazingly talented kid, but someone who was obviously looking up to Kerrin as a role model, someone he was trying to emulate, someone whom he was trying to please and win respect from. Kerrin had got it completely wrong. The kid wasn't trying to beat Kerrin: he was just trying to copy him!
"Hey, I'm sorry. I've just been so involved in something else…sorry, kid…Hey, this is great! It's great work…really good stuff!"
The young man's face beamed. The sparkle returned to his eye and he went bright red.
Kerrin was going to kill Paul. He hadn't mentioned anything to him about becoming Ed's mentor. Now it made sense. The whole time Paul had been trying to wind him up as part of yet another one of his silly pranks, trying to make him jealous of the young man…And he had succeeded. The bastard.
"Look, this is the other stuff I'm working on…what do you think?"
He reached onto his desk to get something else to show him, but Kerrin reached forward and touched him lightly on the shoulder.
"Listen, Ed…it’s nothing personal, but I haven't got time for this right just now. I have to get something from the Wunderkind's desk…something important…I only have a few minutes…perhaps later, okay?"
Ed looked up from his desk at Kerrin, not knowing for a few seconds how to react.
Kerrin smiled at him. Ed smiled back.
Crossing the office, Kerrin found Fiona's desk in the corner, and ignoring the piles of unopened mail on top, he pulled at the large drawers on the side cabinet. They didn’t open. He tried them all. They were locked.
"Kerrin…hey, I think you should see this, something's happening outside!"
Kerrin looked up.
Just then the elevator on the left hand side of the floor 'pinged' and the doors opened, people spilling out and beginning to return to their desks after lunch. Ed was at the other end of the office, looking out of the window and staring at the street below.
"What is it?" he shouted back.
"Come see!" Ed replied.
Kerrin ran back across the room, skirting around the desks, and narrowly avoiding someone who just stepped out of one of the glass-partitioned offices. Coming up level with Ed, he put one hand on the young man’s shoulder and the other on the edge of the glass window. In the street six levels below, four large black Mercedes had swept up to the front of the building and parked hastily in front of the entrance, partially blocking off the road and causing havoc with the traffic. The inside lanes heading past the entrance to The Post were completely blocked, and the cars were already starting to back up and come to a halt. People were blaring their horns and stepping out of their cars, shouting at the car drivers in front, who in turn were shouting abuse at the men in black suits who were jumping out of the Mercedes and running in through the doors of the Washington Post.
It didn't take a genius to work out that trouble was heading his way. They were either after him, or the parcel. Since they didn't know he was there, it had to be the parcel.
Kerrin ran back to Fiona's desk, tugging at the drawers, trying to force it open.
The keys. Where did Fiona keep her keys?
Time was running out. Kerrin knew that any second now, a horde of big, ugly, powerful men in black suits were going to burst through the elevator doors and surround him with an arsenal of firepower even Superman couldn't escape from.
In frustration he grabbed hold of the edge of the desk and using all his might, lifted it up, forcing the desk onto its side, with Fiona's computer and monitor crashing to the floor in a shower of sparks. People all around him turned to stare, and a few of them started moving towards him.
"Kerrin…what the fuck are you doing?" Philip O'Hara, one of the sports editors shouted at him.
"Do you know the police are looking for you?…I saw it on CNN yesterday… Should you really even be here?"
Kerrin ignored him. He started to kick the bottom of the drawer, aiming his blows at the join in the corner. It moved a little but not much. Kerrin looked around him for something heavier, then seeing a large red fire extinguisher, picked it up and started swinging it at the base of the drawer. On the third swing the panel buckled, and on the fourth try it jumped forward and bent inward.
Kerrin reached down and managed to get his hands around the edge of the panel, and by jerking it violently back and forward, he managed to push it into the drawer space behind and rotate it at an angle so that he could pull it backwards and slip it out through the base.
He reached inside and pulled out the contents of the drawer, spilling it all over the floor, grabbing the edge of a large brown parcel and turning it over in his hand. On the back of it, in blue ink, was the name of the sender: Martin Nicolson.
He had found it.
By this time, a crowd of his colleagues had gathered around the spectacle, wondering what the hell was going on and if Kerrin had gone mad.
Suddenly the elevator behind them 'pinged', and the doors slid open, revealing seven burly, black suited men. Sizing up the situation immediately, the men jumped out and started heading towards the group hovering around Kerrin.
Kerrin's eyes darted around the office. He had to escape…he couldn't let himself be caught…
The way to the elevator was blocked. He was trapped. Like a rabbit stuck in the lights of a car's headlights, Kerrin panicked but failed to move…where should he go?
"Kerrin,…the fire escape!"
It was the voice of Ed Harper.
"Behind you…the storeroom…go, NOW! "
Kerrin looked up and saw the men running towards him, jumping over the desks, vaulting over chairs and knocking over and pushing aside anyone that got in their way.
A couple of the men were only a few feet away now. Kerrin lunged at Philip O'Hara, pushing him back into the crowd. O’Hara fell backwards, falling heavily against the oncoming attackers.
In the same movement Kerrin rebounded off O'Hara's chest and dived towards the storeroom behind him. Flinging the parcel on to the storeroom floor, he turned and swung the door shut, slamming it closed in the face of one of his pursuers just as he lunged towards him. Swinging his hand downwards, Kerrin pushed in the button in the centre of the door handle, locking the door and making it impossible for anyone outside to open it without breaking it down.
He looked around him quickly. He was surrounded by tal
l green metal frames forming open shelves, containing boxes full of stationery supplies and various files and back copies of the newspapers from past years. Grabbing the edge of one of the shelves, Kerrin pulled hard, managing to topple the metal frame forward slightly. He readjusted his grip and pulled again, springing back just as the shelves came crashing down in front of the door, blocking the way and making it impossible for anyone to swing the door inwards.
Ignoring the loud pounding on the doors, Kerrin picked up the parcel and ran to the back of the storeroom. Flicking the latch on the window and sliding the lower half of the frosted window upwards, he climbed through onto the fire escape beyond.
It was one of the old fashioned types that can still be found on the back of most American buildings, metal cages with stairs or ladders that slid down to the level below.
Kerrin ran down four flights of the stairs, to the second floor. His heart pounding in his chest, he stopped in front of the window leading from the building onto the fire escape and hit the lower half of it hard with the flat edge of Martin's parcel.
The glass shattered and fell in large splinters inwards into the building behind. Ignoring the flashing burglar alarm, Kerrin reached inside and flicked the catch, so that he could open the window properly and then climb in. Once inside, he found himself inside a ladies toilet. A woman came out of one of the cubicles and screamed.
Kerrin followed her out of the toilet, pushing her aside as he came out onto the floor beyond. Most of the people who worked on the paper had now returned from lunch, and there were probably about eighty people on the floor in front of him, the majority of whom worked in the Sales and Marketing group of the newspaper.
Looking rapidly around the walls, he quickly located what he was looking for, and ran over to it.
Picking up a paper weight from a nearby desk and ignoring the protests of the proud lady owner who shouted something at him, Kerrin swung it at the panel on the wall, smashing the glass and quickly pressing the Fire Alarm button inside.
BOX SET of THREE TOP 10 MEDICAL THRILLERS Page 85
