The Instrumental Rabbi (A Professor McCauley Mystery)

by R. D. Abruzzese

  Security fences, pole mounted cameras, and the three checkpoints fascinated him as he tried to go to work on day one. He had heard from the other technicians that the inner fencing was electrified and that the entire campus had motion detection sensors spread across its 18 acre landscape.

  The security of the Bhermann facility was supposed to be better than that of the White House, it just lacked the White House‘s offensive capabilities, at least as far as he knew.

  The $65 million A.G. Bhermann facility was a marvel of scientific technology. Its single-story secret research facility of glass and steel was constructed on the top floor of a six story building.

  This was known as Level 5. It along with each of the lower five floors were accessed via floor to floor elevators and security stations. The floors had a Level 1 through 5 numbering sequence with the first floor being called Ground Level and the sixth floor Level 5.

  Ground Level contained general offices, a conference room with smoked glass windows, and an expansive reception area with many plants and paintings. The wide use of imported Italian marble reinforced the idea that Bhermann spared no expense at this facility.

  The first floor housed the administrator of this facility, Ferris Allen, a professorial looking manager hired from Princeton University. Ferris was pleasant, aristocratic, and very good with the press and local politicians. He was seldom at the facility. Both Alan and most of the staff of RS1 considered Ferris an overpaid figurehead.

  Each additional floor was accessed through a local floor security checkpoint and several scanners. To reach Level 5 it meant you had to pass through six internal building security checkpoints or nine if you count the three checkpoints located outside of the building.

  As you ascended the floors of the building, the amount of security got much tighter and the security personnel became much more frightening. The security guards on Level 5 reminded Alan of German Navy Seals if there were such things. Alan’s position was pretty important and he worked on Level 4, one down from the top.

  In the corner of the building on the first floor sat the real power behind RS1: Karl Heinz Stockmann, Chief of Security. Karl Heinz was a burly sixty-year-old former Olympic weightlifter. He was the oldest employee at the facility and had worked for Bhermann for 37 years. He joined the company a few years after winning the gold medal in weightlifting during the 1972 Olympics. He personally knew and worked closely with Dr. Alfred Scheiter, the Chairman of the Board of A.G. Bhermann.

  When Dr. Scheiter visited the facility, he would always meet with Karl Heinz first and then with Ferris Allen later. Nothing entered or exited the RS1 facility without the knowledge and permission of Karl Heinz Stockmann.

  Karl Heinz ruled the facility with an iron glove. Alan had once called him “Karl” when discussing a requisition to bring a piece of equipment down from Level 5 to Level 4.

  Karl Heinz said nothing and just stared at Alan with a cold, gray stare. It was the kind of stare that sent chills firing down the back of your neck. At first Alan panicked and mentally reviewed each and every word that he had just said.

  He was sure that he had just violated some internal security rule or protocol and he worried about being fired on the spot. Karl Heinz said nothing but continued with his stare piercing Alan like a knife through soft cheese.

  Stockmann’s gaze contained no anger, in fact, no emotion at all. It was just frigid, dark and intense. Alan kept mumbling something about the equipment while replaying everything in his mind when it finally hit him – it is Karl Heinz, not Karl.

  After a pathetic attempt at an apology from Alan, Karl Heinz ripped the requisition from his hand and signed it, and turned his back before banishing Alan back to Level 4. While working at Bhermann was alright, Alan really didn’t like being near or dealing with Karl Heinz.

  Alan finished his lunch, showered and dressed for work. Another benefit of the evening shift was that, between the hours and the lab coats, it really didn’t matter what he wore underneath.

  Usually, he just dressed in casual slacks or jeans and a golf shirt. He left for work a bit early today. To be honest, he was a little nervous about even going in tonight.

  He wanted to check a compartment on Level 5 to look for the source of some beta cells. His curiosity was aroused yesterday when he had been stopped on a routine delivery by security.

  He was bringing samples up to Level 5 and tried to walk into the specimen lab to drop them off as he had done many times before. Two security guards had immediately appeared, blocking his way, and asked if they could help. When he explained what he was doing, they said to leave his samples right there and return with them to Level 4. This had never happened before.

  As he turned to leave with them, he saw one of the Level 5 researchers and one Level 5 technician lifting what appeared to be human organs out of a sterilized compartment in the lab. One of the guards actually escorted him back to Level 4 and he really didn’t think too much about the incident, that is, until Karl Heinz visited him later that same day.

  “Mr. Dietris, how are things progressing?” boomed Karl Heinz as he sat on one of the stools near Alan’s workbench.

  “Oh fine, Karl Heinz,” said Alan nervously. Alan was acutely aware that Karl Heinz had never made a social call to him or anyone else.

  “I understand that you made a visit to Level 5 today. Is that correct?” asked Karl Heinz quietly.

  “Yes, I had to bring some samples to the lab up there. Dr. Winston requested them.” said Alan nervously.

  “I also understand that you observed some of the remnants from the animal experiments that go on up there.” Karl Heinz continued while glancing away nonchalantly.

  Alan froze. He knew his limitations and he knew that he had many, but one thing that he was an expert on was the difference between animal and human remains. The latter of which were indelibly burned into his memory during his time in the Army.

  He just couldn’t understand why Stockmann was trying to casually introduce such an obvious lie. Was it a test of his capability? Why would Stockmann care how much he knew about anatomy? Was there something more about those remains that was being covered up? Once again, he felt that chill shoot down the back of his spine.

  “I really didn’t notice,” he said with a lie. It was a selected, neutral answer. Although Alan could feel his heart racing, he thought that this type of non-committal answer would allow him some leeway with any follow-up questioning.

  He could pretend that he saw nothing or, if the video showed that he clearly saw something, he could just say that he might have seen it but that it just didn’t registered in his mind. Or he could say that they looked human, but he just assumed there were some cadavers being used on that floor.

  Cadavers, obtained legally, are used for scientific research throughout the world and at RS1. The problem is that these remains were just too fresh to be from cadavers. He just could not say that he thought they were animal remains as Stockmann would either detect the lie or use it to exploit his incompetence.

  Karl Heinz had turned on his stool and was now staring straight through him. “While the work on Level 4 is mostly on cellular structures, Level 5 has a variety of duties.” He continued. “I hope that you remain focused on your own work and do not concern yourself about the work of others. It is, after all, a matter of corporate security you see.”

  Alan had quickly agreed and ended the conversation with Stockmann but the images of those remains had haunted him all night long. He finally concluded that it must be some type of human cloning experiment and he secretly hoped that he could be involved.

  While tossing and turning during his sleep, he had devised a plan to visit Dr. Winston on Level 5 today and discuss the samples that he had dropped off the day before. This was a common occurrence for these two men at the labs.

  They would meet in the Level 5 conference room which happened to abut the specimen lab. He would then ask Dr. Winston for a copy of the tests and, as he went off to prepare a copy, Alan would sn
eak into the specimen lab and look into that compartment.

  It was a perfect plan, taking only a minute, but allowing him to satisfy his curiosity once and for all. Once he knew what they were working with, he could use that knowledge as leverage to get himself involved in the better paying and more prestigious Level 5 projects. This was his chance to advance.

  Buck Hill Road, Easton, CT

  Alan arrived at Bhermann’s RS1 facility by 2:45 p.m. and began his lab testing immediately. He worked straight until dinner, trying to not arouse any suspicion or present any change in his routine. Each floor, except Level 5, was equipped with video surveillance.

  He had dinner in the cafeteria on Level 1 as usual and read the newspaper when finished. The food at Bhermann’s cafeteria was exceptional and free. It was one of the best perks of the job.

  While relaxing with the newspaper, his eyes caught Dr. Winston as he passed by with his tray. “Dr. Winston, would you like to discuss the samples that I dropped off yesterday?” said Alan with a slight nervousness in his voice.

  “Yes, very much,” replied Winston dryly. “Why don’t you come up to the conference room around 9 p.m. and we’ll go over what I found?”

  “Ok, I’ll see you then.” said Alan tingling as his plan rolled into motion.

  In the conference room later, Alan could not stay focused on Dr. Winston’s talking points at all.

  He wondered if he looked nervous as he passed through security on Level 5. He thought that the guards might have been watching a little more closely as they screened him. “Nah, they always watch me like that,” he tried to assure himself, “anally retentive bastards.”

  Dr. Winston went on and on about this and that until Alan finally thought that his brain was going to explode. “When is this Nerd going to take a breath.” he thought. All of the technicians referred to the RS1 PhD researchers as Nerds. It was actually a term of affection and admiration.

  Dr. Winston was particularly excited this evening and wanted Alan to reproduce the results from yesterday using another protein compound which the doctor would send down to him later. He even repeated the instructions twice as if it would help obtain the results. Finally, after a twenty minute dissertation, he took a break.

  “Dr. Winston, would you be able to give me a copy of your findings to work from?”

  “Of course old boy, let me go and get a copy of them.” With that Winston gathered up his materials and walked out of the room.

  Alan’s heart began to race. He knew that he only had a few minutes to act. He jumped from his chair, cursing as he banged his knee into the table, and ran hobbling into the specimen room making sure that no one saw him. He moved quickly through the room and straight to the compartment where he saw the remains being removed yesterday.

  As he lifted the cover, he was startled when he looked in at an empty, spotless stainless steel container. He was frustrated by their disappearance and thought, “Oh well, they must have cleaned it out before I could get back here. I’ll bet it was the work of Stockmann and some of his security goons.”

  He felt a combination of relief and disappointment. While he wanted to know what was really going on here, he was not sure he needed the extra pressure that came with that knowledge. “Well, maybe I’ll catch it the next time, but right now I need to hustle back into the conference room before Winston returns.” he thought to himself.

  With that he removed the support brace and lowered the container cover, gasping out loud as he raised his eyes to see those of Karl Heinz Stockmann and two security guards staring at him from across the room.

  Chapter 6

  Cohasset, MA

  Jenny woke and looked at her clock. It was 3:47 p.m. She had returned home after dropping McCauley in front of his residence earlier this morning. The visit to the Police Station this morning had taken its toll on her.

  She arrived in her apartment and cried non-stop for about an hour. She had made a cup of chamomile tea and sipped it after closing her drapes and slipping into bed. Sometime after her tea, her exhaustion won the battle as the horrific screams of Melanie Sorenson’s roommate faded from her mind and sleep set in.

  Now, in the light of midday, her thoughts returned to Melanie and the awful screams of her roommate. “I hope that poor girl is alright,” she thought. “I wonder if she’ll ever fully recover from this?”

  No one could know, but Melanie’s roommate would never recover and never speak to another person again. She would be locked away in a mental health facility for 13 years, remaining silent and nonresponsive until taking her own life at age 35.

  Cambridge, MA

  McCauley paced the floor of his study. He had been unable to sleep after returning home from the interrogation room. He was machine-like in his method of processing and reprocessing the crime scene and the 911 tape from earlier in the day.

  The Professor had reviewed all of the information and compiled it with that of the earlier victims. His analytical mind worked to find common threads and motives and was deep in thought without time for food, rest or other distractions.

  It was around 8 p.m. when he finally yielded to his body’s needs - he had to stop and leave the study for a restroom break, his first since arriving home earlier in the day.

  That break made the Professor realize his level of fatigue and the fact that he had not eaten since breakfast yesterday. He made his way into the kitchen with its white ceramic counters and dark oak cabinets in search of food. Opening the refrigerator, he quickly determined that his selection would be limited at best.

  He settled on a snack of two slices of pumpernickel bread, a chunk of extra sharp cheddar cheese, 3 gherkin pickles and two hot cherry peppers. He made a cup of green tea and stood by the kitchen’s center island, dining alone in the darkness.

  When he finished eating, he placed the dish in the sink, made another cup of tea and carried it back into his study. This time, he brushed aside a book and sat down in one of his oversized leather chairs, plunking his slippered feet onto the leather ottoman. He picked up today’s Boston Globe and began scanning the pages as he sipped his tea.

  The latest “Subway Slasher” murder was front page news again. Although, technically, the murder did not occur in the Subway, the murderer’s moniker would be a fixture with the media forever.

  McCauley remembered the roommate’s description of the Slasher’s hacking motion and the look on Jenny Smith’s face and tried to force that image from his mind.

  He turned the pages and scanned the stories, pausing to read about a recent death in Connecticut. Suicides were always of interest to McCauley. He always attempted to understand the motivation and mindset of the victim, but never found himself quite able to make that connection.

  It was just something beyond rationality, something beyond his grasp, some form of madness that he just could not comprehend. He also believed that over 37% percent of suicides were, in fact, simply unresolved murders.

  BRIDGETON, N.Y. (AP) - A Connecticut man arrested on DUI charges has died after hanging himself in a police cell, authorities said.

  Alan Dietris, 43, of Easton, CT was arrested Wednesday morning by officers responding to an erratic driving call. Pending a court appearance, Dietris was put in a holding cell at the Bridgeton police station, where officers checked him shortly after 1 a.m. and reported that everything was fine.

  “During a subsequent cell check at approximately 1:23 a.m., Dietris was discovered hanging from his cell door,” a statement said. Police tried to revive Dietris at the scene, but he was pronounced dead at Our Lady of Mercy Hospital.

  Dietris had been employed as a laboratory technician at the A. G. Bhermann RS1 research facility in Easton, CT.

  McCauley stared at the story and thought long and hard about Dietris. Suicides were difficult enough to understand, but a suicide for a DUI? It was incomprehensible. He weighed the possibility of mental instability but dismissed it as he was very familiar with the psychological screening requirements for the A.G. Bhermann
facility.

  He had once consulted for them many years ago on a missing person case in Connecticut. It turned out in that case that Bhermann’s “missing” employee was just out on an extended romantic tryst, his first ever.

  McCauley had tracked the employee to a young Asian woman’s home in Plymouth, MA where she and the employee had been in bed for five straight days.

  The employee was promptly returned to and terminated by A.G. Bhermann. “Such is the cost of Nerd love.” McCauley had thought after learning of the nicknames at the facility.

  If mental instability was ruled out, McCauley could not fathom why this young Dietris would have hung himself. He knew of the classified work at the A.G. Bhermann research facility and had met Karl Heinz Stockmann, its Chief of Security, several times.

  He mentally noted that he would revisit this case and look into work related events when he had completed the “Slasher” case before him.