CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Colonel Prentice had ordered Davidson to find out who helped the Freedom Alliance fighters access the CDC building. Davidson already knew that Helen Watkins was responsible. However, because he didn't intend to arrest her, he would have to go out to the CDC building and conduct a sham investigation.
He wanted to know, before he did, why she became disillusioned with the City and drifted into treason. The next morning, when he reached his office, he turned on his computer and pulled up her ISB intelligence file. It said she was 35 years old. Both her parents were civil engineers. After studying criminology at Webster University, she joined the police department and quickly rose to become a detective in the Drug Squad. Ten years ago, she married another detective called Tony Bradstreet. A year later, they had a son, Felix. However, Felix died of pneumonia in Webster Central Hospital at the age of three. His parents complained to the Director of Health and the Medical Board that their son received incompetent care. Their complaints were dismissed.
About a year after Felix died, she got divorced and became the Deputy Chief Security Officer at the CDC. Davidson suspected that Felix's death triggered the divorce and change of job, and anger about his medical treatment made her turn traitor. It would be interesting to find out.
The Intelligence file originally gave her a Civic Reliability Rating of 10 out of 10. However, when she started complaining about her son's treatment, it dropped to 8. If it had dropped one more point, the ISB would have interviewed her and conducted random surveillance. She certainly wouldn't have got a job at the CDC.
He picked up his phone receiver and dialed her direct number at the CDC building.
She answered, sounding tired. "Hello, Watkins here."
"Hello, Carl Davidson. I thought I'd warn you that I'm heading over there. I'll be there in about half an hour."
She sounded annoyed: "Why are you coming out here?"
"I'll tell you when I get there."
A long pause. "Alright. There's a lot of security now. The army is here. I'll have to meet you at the main gate and let you in."
"Fine. I'll let you know when I arrive."
Davidson left his office and strolled down the hallway to the elevators. Already waiting for one was a large, gaunt man in a black ISB combat uniform. Major Clive Jenkins was a semi-legend in the bureau who commanded the Alpha Team assassination squad. As a result, he often disappeared for weeks at a time.
Davidson knew him reasonably well because, for the last three years, they had fought each other in the final match of the ISB Karate Competition. Davidson lost the first year and won the next two. Jenkins looked unhappy when he won the tournament and even unhappier when he lost. That was his default expression when he met Davidson.
Davidson said: "Hello, Clive, how long are you back for?"
Jenkins' expression seemed to accuse Davidson of an unspecified crime. "For a month or so."
"How did your last mission go?"
Jenkins' face turned even darker. "Not so good. Got ambushed near Boston. Lost six men before we could be extracted."
"I'm sorry to hear that - very sorry. How did the FA locate you?"
Jenkins shot fireballs from his eyes. "I don't know. But I'd love to find out."
When Davidson reached the main gate of the CDC, he saw that Helen Watkins was right about the extra security. Sandbag emplacements sat on both sides of the gate. Three armored cars with heavy machine-guns were parked near it. Several squads of soldiers with dogs were patrolling the wire fence around the carpark, which seemed quite empty.
Davidson parked outside the main gate and strolled up to a tubby army captain who commanded about twenty unfit-looking kid soldiers. Davidson showed his ISB pass and said he had an appointment to see the Deputy Chief Security Officer, Helen Watkins.
"She'll have to come out and collect you."
"Sure."
The Captain ducked into the guardhouse to call Helen Watkins. A minute later, he returned and said she was on her way. Soon afterward, she strolled out of the CDC building in her white uniform and headed towards the main gate. Not surprisingly, in view of the previous day's events, her hair was bedraggled and she looked desperate for sleep.
He said: "Hi. How do you feel?"
A shrug. "OK. Still a bit shocked."
"That's understandable. Maybe you should see someone - a therapist - for a chat."
"That's been suggested. But I don't need to see anyone; I'll be fine." Her cold tone indicated she wanted no sympathy or personal chit-chat.
She turned towards the tubby captain. "He can come in."
"Sure."
She followed Davidson over to his car and got into the front passenger seat.
He drove through the main gate and had no trouble finding a parking spot near the CDC building. "Not many people here today?"
"After what happened yesterday, that's no surprise: a lot of people decided to stay home."
As they strolled across the carpark towards the building, she said: "You can use the Visitor's Pass you were given yesterday."
"OK."
Inside, they got into an elevator and she made a stilted effort to be polite. "Congratulations on your medal."
"Thanks. You deserved one too."
"No, I didn't. Why are you here?"
Davidson almost giggled. He now had to go through the charade of trying to find out who gave ID passes and a swipe card to the Freedom Alliance fighters, when he already knew she did. Further, because he had turned traitor, he had no intention of arresting her for that. He had no idea when or how this game would end. Maybe it never would.
He cleared his throat. "Colonel Prentice wants me to find out who helped the Freedom Alliance fighters get into the building. Do you have the ID passes and swipe card taken from their corpses?"
"Yes, they're in my office. You want to look at them?"
"Yes."
They got out of the elevator on the fifth floor. She led him along a long corridor and opened a door with "Deputy Chief Security Officer" stenciled on it. She had a fairly bare office, devoid of personal effects, overlooking the carpark. A small pile of clear-plastic evidence bags sat on her desk. They contained the fake IDs and swipe card the Freedom Alliance intruders used.
He picked up a bag and looked at a blood-smeared ID. The photograph showed an attractive woman with frizzy blonde hair and a broad smile. Though he didn't shoot the female fighter, his heart sank. "This ID pass looks genuine. Do you know how it was made?"
"The photo was obviously taken somewhere else. But I'm pretty sure the pass itself was created in this building. Someone in here also activated the swipe card."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"OK. Where are those things done?"
"The ID Section on this floor creates passes and activates cards."
"How many in the section?"
"Three. But all security officers have access to that area, and it's easy to create passes and activate cards."
He frowned. "You're kidding? You mean the security department has lousy security?"
"I'm afraid so. It is - has been - lax. I admit that. It has to improve."
"You bet it does. So the traitor could be any one of your security officers?
"Basically, yes."
He was impressed that she didn't try to frame one of the three officers in the ID section to deflect blame from herself. She seemed a decent woman. "Then how are we going to find the culprit?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe we should first interview the officers in the ID section to see what they know. That might provide a lead."
Davidson didn't want to waste his time investigating who helped the Alliance fighters get into the CDC building, particularly when he was face-to-face with the real culprit and didn't intend to expose her. But he still wanted to know why Robert Meredith plunged off his balcony. "Look, I want you to interview the staff and get written statements from them. Then I'll review those statements and decided where we go from there."
; She looked surprised and a little relieved. "Really?"
"Yes."
"What are you going to do?"
"I was interviewing Robert Meredith's lab assistant, Fiona Clarkson, yesterday morning when the FA fighters turned up. I'd better finish our chat. Is she here today?"
"I don't know. I'll call Doctor Carpenter and find out, if you want."
Davidson wanted to cast his eye over the laboratory again. "No, don't bother. I'll stroll down to his office and ask him myself."
She looked puzzled. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Start interviewing the staff in the ID section. I'll be back in a while."
A shrug. "Alright."
Davidson strode around to the elevators and caught one down to the basement. There were only a few people working in the huge open laboratory. The only signs of the shootout the day before were a few bullet holes in the walls and smashed glass panels. Even the blood on the floor had been wiped away.
He strolled around the corner to Doctor Carpenter's office suite, pushed open the door and entered the vacant ante-room. The door to the doctor's office was closed. He knocked and heard a nervous voice. "Who is it?"
"Major Davidson from the ISB. We talked yesterday."
Twenty seconds later, Carpenter opened the door, wearing his lab coat, looking even more careworn than yesterday. His forehead buckled. "Ah, Major, please come in. How can I help?"
Davidson followed him into his office. "No secretary today?"
"No. Not many people have turned up to work, which is hardly surprising. I was going to stay home, but felt the call of duty. I saw on TV that you got a medal for what you did yesterday. Congratulations. Most appropriate. You saved all of our lives."
"That's an exaggeration."
Carpenter sat behind his desk. "Anyway, how can I help?"
Davidson sat facing him. "I was speaking to Fiona Clarkson yesterday morning when we were rudely interrupted. I want to finish our chat. Is she here?"
"Umm, no. I'm afraid she stayed home. She phoned about an hour ago and said she doesn't feel well."
"OK. Do you have her address?"
A deep frown. "You mean, you want to go out and see her?"
A shrug. "I may as well."
"Well, umm, maybe you shouldn't. Like I said: she doesn't feel well."
"Don't worry, if she doesn't want to talk to me, I won't insist." That was a lie. "Now, please give me her address."
"Alright." Carpenter tapped on the keyboard of his computer, found the address, wrote it on a piece of paper and handed it over. "She lives in Sector 12. Do you want me to come with you? I think that would be a good idea."
Carpenter seemed unhappy about Davidson talking to Fiona Clarkson on his own, or at all. As Davidson slipped the piece of paper into his breast pocket, he wondered why. "No, I won't need your help."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
A frown. "Alright. Let me walk you to the elevator."
"Thanks."
They left the suite and strolled along the side of the laboratory until they reached the entrance to the Vaccine Storage Area. It seemed the Freedom Alliance fighters broke into the CDC building to destroy that area. Davidson couldn't understand why they made such a huge sacrifice to achieve that goal. But he might as well look inside that area while he was there.
He stopped and pointed at the entrance. "Can I have a look in there?"
Doctor Carpenter's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to do that?"
"Mild curiosity. I want to see what the Freedom Alliance intended to destroy."
"There's not much to see, I'm afraid. It's just a big room with a lot of large fridges."
Davidson again sensed that Carpenter was trying to thwart his investigation. "Then it won't take me long to look around, will it?"
A stifled sigh. "Alright, follow me."
Carpenter punched a number into a code-lock on the wall and pushed open the big metal door. They stepped into a narrow room, about 80 yards long, with huge fridges lining each side.
Davidson said: "What's in storage at the moment?"
"Mostly the new seasonal flu vaccine. We keep it here until it's transported to clinics for injection. It must be stored at 35 degrees Fahrenheit. Otherwise, it loses its potency very fast."
"Can I look inside one of the fridges?"
A shrug. "Of course."
Carpenter opened a huge fridge door and revealed two sets of racks facing each other. There was enough space between them for a large man to turn around. The racks were piled high with small blue plastic boxes, which looked familiar.
"What's in the boxes?"
"Vaccine ampoules, of course. Each box holds about twenty. Here, let me show you."
Carpenter opened a box and Davidson saw it had twenty ampoules neatly arranged. On the side of each was a small printed label: "Flu-shot - IW: 305WE." The ampoule obviously contained the seasonal flu vaccine to be administered during the forthcoming Immunization Week, which would occur in the 305th year of the Webster Era.
"Have you had your shot yet?"
"Of course not. Nobody is allowed to remove the flu vaccine from this area until Immunization Week starts. We're very strict about that." Carpenter put the box back on the rack. "Seen enough?"
"Yes."
Carpenter closed the fridge door and led Davidson out of the storage area.
Outside, Davidson said: "Thank you. I'll go and see Fiona Clarkson."
Another frown. "You sure you need to see her today?"
"Yes. Don't worry, I'll be pleasant."
An unhappy shrug. "Matter for you."
As Davidson strolled out of the CDC building towards his car, he wondered why the small blue plastic boxes he just saw looked familiar. Then he realized he saw a similar one in the fridge in Robert Meredith's apartment. Did that box contain ampoules of the new seasonal flu vaccine? Carpenter said nobody was allowed to remove vaccines from the storage area. Did Meredith defy that instruction and take some home? If so, why did he do that?
Davidson decided to visit Robert Meredith's apartment and inspect the blue plastic box in the fridge. He drove to Sector 7, parked outside the apartment block and knocked on the door of the building supervisor, Frank Lyndon.
The door opened. Lyndon was dressed in a dirty overall - probably the same one he wore last time - and looked wary. "What do you want?"
"You remember me?"
"Of course."
"I need a key to Apartment 211."
"OK." The supervisor retreated into his apartment and returned with a key that he handed over with a grubby hand. "When are you guys going to release that apartment and let us rent it out again?"
"Not sure. Fairly soon, I guess."
"Something's got to be done."
"You will be told."
Davidson rode the clanking and grinding elevator up to the 21st floor and saw a crime scene tape was stretched across the front door of the apartment. He tore it off and opened the door.
In the kitchen, he opened the fridge and saw the blue plastic box was still there. He pulled it out, opened the lid and saw that it contained only one ampoule with "Flu-shot - IW: 205WE" printed on the side. So, contrary to instructions, Meredith removed some of that season's flu vaccine from the Vaccine Storage Area and brought it home. Why did he do that? Was there something significant about this vaccine? Davidson decided to show the ampoule to Fiona Clarkson and ask her why Meredith had it in his fridge. He tucked it into his pocket and headed out the door.
As he drove towards Sector 12, he remembered he still had the notebook he found in Meredith's apartment during his first search. It was in his briefcase on the back seat. He might as well show that to Fiona Clarkson as well.
Webster City Page 14
