“I thought I could get you out,” Betty said, her face marked with anger and fear. Her words came in short gasps as she struggled to get air into her lungs. “That degenerate Evans! I should have known who he was, but I didn’t recognize him. Who would have thought he’d be right here, right in Washington under our noses?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Yes, Dr. Gillette. Why don’t you tell your friend how you set her up so successfully?” Evans stood in the doorway. “To be honest, I found this out only a moment ago. Such a delightful twist.”
‘‘What’s he talking about, Betty?” Eleanor helped the other woman to her feet.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Tell her!” Evans ordered.
“I took the cats from here,” Betty said, staring defiantly at Evans. “If I’d had any idea he was involved, I’d have set up some kind of trap to blow him to the ends of the earth.”
“Such emotion,” Evans said, allowing himself a chuckle. “The bottom line is that Dr. Gillette took the animals and then allowed you, Dr. Duncan, to take the blame. Betrayal is such an interesting duality of emotion,” he continued. “Are you ladies aware that animals feel betrayal? There was an experiment where mother cats—”
“Stop it!” Eleanor put her hands over her ears, a gesture which Zelda imitated perfectly.
“I didn’t mean to involve you like this,” Betty said. “You have to believe me.” She touched Eleanor’s shoulder.
“Now’s a great time to think about it,” Eleanor responded as she went to stand beside Zelda. “What are you going to do with us now?” she asked, directing the question to Evans. “Peter will get here anytime.”
Betty shot her a look that signaled despair.
“My plans are magnificent,” Evans said. “Tomorrow I topple an administration and gain the laboratory, funding and isolation I so richly deserve. After tomorrow I won’t care what happens in this country.”
“How are you going to topple an administration?” Betty had moved around the room, putting space between Eleanor and herself.
“Zelda here, accompanied by your charming friend, is going to pull a loaded gun from inside a gift box and fire at point-blank range.” Evans smiled, shrugging his shoulders as if he were discussing a television show. “President Issac Demont will be dead. The Republic of Motambu will fall, and well, the rest will be history.”
In the horrified silence that followed Evans’s statements, Eleanor’s voice seemed to crackle. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
“To demonstrate that I can train an ape to do anything. With the proper incentives, fear and pain, I’ve created the perfect killing machine. She looks so sweet and innocent. She grovels so sublimely. But on a given signal, she changes into the most savage, unstoppable creature ever imagined. And you, Dr. Duncan, will give that signal.”
“I won’t,” Eleanor whispered. “I won’t.”
“Oh, yes, you will, or your associate here, Dr. Gillette, will die a very painful, unpleasant death. Now that doesn’t sound good, does it?”
“You can’t force me or Zelda to kill.” Eleanor backed against the bars, trying to give Betty the opportunity she needed to get out. Eleanor wasn’t certain what role Betty was actually playing, but her colleague’s escape might be her only chance.
“Don’t try it!” Evans rounded on Betty. His hand lashed out, striking her across the face with such force that she fell into Eleanor. “Now, let’s go.” He drew a pistol from his pocket. “And don’t try anything. Remember, neither of you are so highly trained that you aren’t disposable. I have the necessary clothes for you, Dr. Duncan. And Dr. Gillette, you’re going to be my safety precaution. If Dr. Duncan doesn’t do exactly as she’s told, I’ll use you for some of my more advanced experiments. I’ve always wondered what damage the human brain suffered from repeated blows to the head.”
Betty started to say something, but Eleanor touched her elbow. She shook her head in warning. When she was certain that Betty would be silent, she held out her hand to the orangutan. Zelda walked up to her and put her hand into Eleanor’s. Together they followed Evans out of the lab and into a waiting van. Before he slipped into the driver’s seat, he handcuffed them.
“The Mayflower,” he said aloud, smiling. “A final night in the lap of luxury before you go to work.”
Peter came back to consciousness slowly at first, then with a start. Sandpaper was being dragged across his face, rubbing the skin away.
“Meow!” The rubbing stopped and there was the sound of loud purring.
“Familiar,” he said. “You always show up when I least expect you. Someone slugged me, hard.”
“Meow.” The cat rubbed against his arms.
Slowly Peter forced himself to a sitting position. He worked his hands, relieved to see that whoever had tied them had done a halfhearted job. It would take a little time, but he could free himself. Time, though, was the one thing he didn’t have a lot of. Eleanor was trapped in a building with a madman, and he had to get her out.
He struggled with the ropes for ten minutes, finally loosening the knots. As he slipped from the coils, he heard the sound of sirens wailing.
“Thank goodness,” he said as he scooped Familiar into his arms and ducked into the shrubs. “We’ll hide here while they free Eleanor. Don’t tell anyone, Familiar, but you’re hanging out with a wanted man.”
Pushing backward, Peter lost himself in the dense shrubbery. From his vantage point he watched the law officers force their way into the lab. He wanted to rush forward and grab Eleanor, but restrained himself. He had to wait until he could clear himself from the charge of murdering Sam Nottingham. As long as he knew Eleanor was safe, he’d be able to concentrate on his own problems. It would also delight him to see Evans led away in handcuffs.
“They’re gone!” A cop shouted from inside the building. “The place is empty.”
“The kid said someone was in danger, a university professor,” another cop called back. “Boy, this place looks like some kind of torture chamber.”
“Seal the door,” the first cop said as he came out into the night. “The kid who called in wouldn’t leave a name or anything. What should we do?”
“Call the lab guys and have them come down to take a look. That spot on the floor looks like blood. I suspect some crime has been committed in this place. Let the lab check it out.”
“Right,” the first cop said as he went to the patrol car. “I wish I could get my hands on that kid. He sounded terrified.”
Peter crept backward, moving away from the building. Eleanor was gone! Evans had moved her and the ape! Where?
He put Familiar down so he could move easier, and the cat followed him without any hesitation. When they were a good distance away, Peter scooped up the cat once more and circled toward his car.
At last he got back to Betty’s Tercel. When he was in the front seat, he realized he had no idea what to do next. Where could Eleanor have gone? Who had struck him? And what kid were the cops talking about? The questions came at him faster than he could begin to answer.
“Meow,” Familiar said, rubbing against him.
Peter absently rubbed down the cat’s spine, then moved to scratch his belly. It was one of Familiar’s favorite places. His fingers found the small lump that moved freely with the skin. “Meow,” Familiar said, pushing his body harder at Peter. “Meow!” He grew insistent, digging his claws into Peter’s legs.
Peter started to push him away, then his fingers brushed the nodule again. “Wait a minute.” Deftly he picked it up, a free-floating lump between the cat’s skin and muscle. It could be a pellet, as he’d originally thought—or something else.
“Let’s go,” he said, throwing the car into Reverse. “I think you need to take a little nap, Familiar.”
“Meow,” the cat replied, curling into the seat and closing his eyes as if he agreed with everything Peter had said.
Under the intense lights of his office operating room, Pe
ter studied Familiar’s skin again. There was the site of a small incision that had healed perfectly. He patted Familiar’s head. The cat had been fabulous about being shaved. He’d hardly batted an eyelid.
“Now comes the easy part,” he said, slipping the needle into the cat’s vein. “Just a few moments, and you’re sound asleep.”
Working with precision, he reopened the original scar. A few seconds of careful probing revealed the stainless steel container that resembled the shot from an old rifle. Peter carefully extracted it, then neatly restitched Familiar’s stomach. The cat would be as good as new in a matter of days.
“And for your own safety you can stay in the kennel,’’ he told the sleeping cat, gently carrying him to a recovery cage.
Back in the operating room, he grasped the metal cylinder with a pair of forceps. He washed it thoroughly, uncovering the mechanism that held it closed. It opened with a snap, and a sliver of microfilm was revealed.
“All along it was the cat,” he whispered. He took the film to his microscope. Using tweezers to hold it, he placed it under the scope, then turned on a high-powered lamp. Reaching behind him, he flipped off the overhead light. Now he could see a definite picture on the white tile counter.
The focus was distorted, and he carefully began to make an adjustment. In a few seconds he could make out the numerals of a seven-digit code. Grabbing a pad, he wrote them down.
He moved the microfilm slightly, and a new flame came into focus. “Code One Orange XX to Code Two Blue.” He noted down the exact letters and moved to the third frame, a series of numbers that indicated a Swiss bank account and possibly two passport numbers.
Although he didn’t have the specifics, Peter understood the text he was reading well enough. He knew from Eleanor that Code One Orange had been the terrorist group her husband had been involved with. That could only mean subversive activities.
A pounding at his door made him start, so that he almost dropped the film. Recalling that he still had the gun he’d picked up at the memorial, he pulled it from his pocket.
The pounding came again. He walked silently to the door.
“Dr. Curry!” Joey cried. “Let me in! Something terrible has happened to Dr. Duncan!”
Peter threw the door open, and the young man nearly leaped into the room, gasping for breath. “They’ve got Dr. Duncan, and Dr. Gillette, too.”
“Where are they, Joey?”
“I called the police like Dr. Gillette said. She acted so funny, though, that I went back. I saw that man loading them into a van, Dr. Duncan, Dr. Gillette and this monkey, and they drove away.”
Peter’s hopes sank. “They drove away?”
“Yeah, and I followed them to the Mayflower Hotel.”
“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing Joey’s arm.
“He had a gun on them,” Joey added. He was shaking violently, but Peter heard him pull in a calming breath. “I got pretty close, and I heard him say that he would kill them all.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I stole the cats because I believe it’s wrong to use them in unnecessary experiments,” Betty said as she slumped onto the plush bed. She and Eleanor were securely handcuffed to the bed frame, while Evans was busy in the adjoining room with Zelda.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eleanor started to get up and walk, but the handcuffs jerked her back to the mattress.
“How was I to know that damn black cat would escape? I had all of them in the car, and when we went by the campus, he jumped out the window like a streak of lightning. I hunted everywhere for him, but he was gone.”
“And I had to pick him up,” Eleanor said. “Well, at least he’s still alive. And Peter, too, if you didn’t give him brain damage.”
“He isn’t hurt,” Betty emphasized. “I thought Joey and I could break in, release you and we could all get away. I didn’t want anyone to know I was the one freeing the lab animals around town. Especially not Peter. I recognized him from that chemical plant disaster years before. He was originally accused of the atrocities. Even though he was cleared, I wasn’t certain about him.”
“And you didn’t try to warn me?”
“You may not realize it yet, but I saw the way you two looked at each other. Fools for love! What was I supposed to do? Rush up and say that the man you were falling in love with might torture small animals? I’m sure you’d have listened.”
“Great!” Eleanor said dismally. She looked again at the telephone by the bed. Evans had pulled the cord from the wall. More than anything in the world she wanted to hear Peter’s voice. If she could just talk to him, she could endure almost anything. “Are you sure you didn’t hurt Peter?”
“Positive. He’s probably come round and gotten untied by now. He’s looking for you...if the police haven’t found him,” Betty said, suddenly remembering that he was wanted for murder. She gave Eleanor a hesitant look.
“What is it now?”
“The police think Peter killed Sam Nottingham at the Jefferson Memorial.”
“Nottingham! I thought he was part of this.” Eleanor dropped her head into her hands. The handcuffs rattled like cheap jewelry. The only person who might possibly rescue them was more than likely in jail. “We need a plan.”
“No one will ever think to look for us in the Mayflower,” Betty said, leaning back on her elbows. “We may as well wait it out. The banquet is tomorrow at six. By then, surely we’ll have thought of something.”
“If we don’t, someone is going to die.” Eleanor felt a new surge of desperation-inspired energy. “Maybe we...”
The door to the adjoining room opened and Evans entered, carrying two evening dresses. He pointed to one. “For you, Dr. Duncan,” he said. “You look like a woman who looks good in red. I thought you two would appreciate the idea. The old story of the lady in red.” He laughed. “Demont will be so busy looking at you, he won’t even see Zelda pull the gun. Did I mention that she was his pet before my associates stole her? Isn’t that ironic?”
“What will happen to Zelda when this is over?” Eleanor hoped for some trace of compassion.
He shrugged. “She’s served her purpose. I’m sure the security guards will kill her on the spot. More than likely you’ll be killed, too.”
“Don’t do this,” Betty said. “Eleanor was never involved. I did it all.” She looked at Eleanor and hung her head. “I even set you up for that AFA meeting by breaking into your office and leaving that flyer.”
“Why?”
“You were already a suspect. I figured you’d eventually clear your name, and I’d be free to continue liberating animals. The thing I didn’t count on was running into Arnold Evans.” She spoke the name as if it had a vile taste. “Subhuman, torturer...”
“Enough, Dr. Gillette,” Evans said. He was completely undisturbed by her disgust. “Now, both of you ladies have a good night’s rest. We have a busy day tomorrow.” He came toward them, two pills on his palm. “Take one.”
“What about Carter?” Eleanor picked up the capsule and held it. “When can I see him?”
“Sooner than you wish,” he said, laughing.
“Does he know you killed Rayburn?” She held her breath. Evans’s face hardened for a brief moment, then relaxed. “Too bad Rayburn didn’t keep his mouth shut. As soon as he hung up talking to you, he called us. It was a simple thing to lure him to your apartment and eliminate him. It was our misfortune that you evaded the suspicions.”
“Where is Carter now?” Eleanor held her breath again. If he was indeed alive, she might be able to sway him to help her. He’d never really loved her, but surely he didn’t hate her enough to want her to die. “Where is he?”
“Well, after the number my associates did on his brakes, I sincerely hope he’s a heap of bones at the bottom of a canyon.”
“You killed him! And all of this has been a trick!” Eleanor felt relief, anger and the destruction of her last, fragile hope.
“Yes, pretty good, huh?”
She could n
ever let Evans know how frightened she was. He fed off the fear of others. “That’s pretty clever. The person who pretended to be him—he sounded exactly like him, moved like him,” she agreed matter-of-factly. She saw Betty’s openmouthed astonishment. “You really had me going, Evans. I believed that Carter had come back from the grave.” An eerie sensation moved across her skin. “When he came to the parking garage...” ,
“What parking garage? We never set you up in a garage.” Evans looked baffled, then angry.
“That first time he ‘appeared’ in the garage of my building.” Something was wrong. “What is it?” she asked. Watching Evans’s eyes, she felt the return of her darkest fears. Evans had never sent the man playing Carter to her building. She could read it in his face.
“I’ve had enough of this foolish talk. Take it!” He thrust the second pill at Betty.
Neither woman had a chance to spit them out; he kept too close an eye on them.
“Now sleep,” he said as he flipped off the light. “Tomorrow you’re going to need to be tested.”
“I wish I could get to a phone and call Alva Rousel,” Betty said angrily. “He’d show you a thing or two.”
Evans’s laughter rang across the room. “Yes, I’m sure he would. He isn’t anything if he isn’t Mr. CIA, is he?” He laughed again.
“We must bide our time and wait,” Magdalena said. She was back in her own living room, bundled in a comforter. A line of pain was etched on her forehead.
“Why can’t we go now?” Peter asked. “Eleanor’s life may be at stake.”
“Patience, Peter,” she said softly. “There’s a lot more at stake here than Eleanor’s life, as much as I value it. Evans has slipped through our fingers too often before. When he tries to pull this scheme off, we’ll have him cold. Besides, if he was going to hurt her, he’d have done it at the lab.” She looked at Joey. “You have the waiter’s uniform.”
He nodded. “I can do it. I know exactly what I’m to do.”
Fear Familiar Page 21
