Heartless: a Derek Cole Mystery Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 1)

by T Patrick Phelps

  His logical conclusion was that he was in Ward C, probably on Alexander’s old bed, based on the familiarity and the lack of pillows. He listened but could hear nothing. No movement, no breathing, and no sounds coming from outside of his immediate area. He lifted his right eye lid just enough to afford him a view and confirmed his thoughts. From what he could see through the dimly lit room, he was alone.

  He opened his eyes fully and slowly let his sight roam as far as he could without turning his head. When he was confident that he was alone, he lifted his head. The pain he felt was immediate. Sharp, stabbing, shooting pain. It started from the back of his head and traveled down his entire spine, sending the muscles in his lower back into contractions. Despite the extreme pain, Straus lifted his head off the mattress, glanced around the room identifying familiar objects and shapes, then tried to sit upright. It was then that he realized that his left arm was tied securely to the bed’s frame. So tight that his attempt at testing the knot caused the thin rope to dig into his wrist.

  But he was alone in the room. He wondered if Alexander had been apprehended by the police or if Alexander’s father had shown up and was now speaking with him, discussing what terms for release they would present.

  Straus rolled to the left side of the mattress, sat up, and began exploring the rope’s knot with his right hand. The battery powered lights that he had positioned in the room had either spent their battery’s life or had been turned off, making his attempt to loosen the knot an entirely kinesthetic attempt. The pain in the rear of his head was throbbing, reminding Straus that something, perhaps something serious, was wrong. He tentatively reached his free hand to his head and felt examined his skull.

  “No blood,” he thought. “Just a nasty lump. That’s good”

  He continued exploring his body with this free hand and discovered nothing was out of place, bleeding, or twisted into any shape that would prevent him from running once he freed himself from the rope.

  He was so attentive to listening for sounds that he almost didn’t notice the wafting smells that suddenly caught his attention. He paused, straining his mind to place the scents.

  “Smoke?” he thought. “And something else.”

  The smell of stale, distant smoke, was certain but it was mixed with another smell: a smell both blended and separated from the smoky aroma. A distinct and familiar scent that, perhaps due to the throbbing pain that demanded much of his mental energies, could not be labeled as he sat, bound, and still on the mattress. It drew him, called to him, offering a glimmer of comfort and of hope. As his faculties slowly became fully awake, he identified the smell. It was not a pleasant scent yet, to Straus, it was the greatest aroma he could have ever hoped for.

  “Tell me, Doctor Straus,” the wafer thin voice of Alexander sounded, cutting through the darkness and pushing the scent from Straus’s mind, “how long had you been arranging your response?”

  “Alexander?” Straus answered, quickly twisting his body on the bed towards the origination of the voice. “Let me free. Now!”

  “Again, tell me how long you had been arranging your response?”

  “What are you talking about? What response?” Straus barked.

  “Your response to the recent events that have unfolded.”

  “I don’t know what you are referring to, but if you untie me, I am certain that you and I can reach an agreement that will make you, your father, and me happy.”

  “My father only wanted money from you, Doctor Straus. Money from you and the rest of the doctors involved. In the end, it was his greed that consumed him. Burned him to the ground, I imagine. I myself have very little use for money, and I’m afraid that there is nothing else you can bring to any negotiating table, should you ever be present at one.”

  “Alexander,” Straus said, then paused, “you need me. I can smell what’s going on with your body. You need me. My expertise is what I have as my bargaining chip.”

  “You can smell me?” Alexander asked. “How bizarre.”

  “That day at the lodge. The day you murdered Jacob Curtis and Peter Adams.”

  “Please don’t forget about the stranger I murdered as well. He deserves to be remembered as much as the others.”

  “Jacob Curtis was there to tell you news. Did he tell you what we had discovered?”

  “I am afraid to say that the words got caught in his throat. But, please tell me, Doctor. I am curious.”

  “Did he tell you that he had good news?”

  “In fact, he did mention good news. He was almost giddy with excitement.”

  “Untie me, and I will tell you,” Straus said, his authoritative voice discovered.

  “I struggle to see the benefit of releasing your bonds, Doctor. I struggle.”

  “Jacob Curtis did have good news, but that’s not all the news he had.”

  “A mystery. How wonderful! Do tell, Doctor Straus.”

  “Untie me,” he commanded.

  “My struggle for a reason continues,” Alexander said.

  Alexander moved from the hub into the bedroom where Straus was sitting. With him he carried a small, battery powered lantern. The fading glow offering its dying light in a small, irregular shape around Alexander. His face and hand were all that Straus could see, seemingly floating into the bedroom. The grayness of his complexion, accentuated by the cool light.

  As Alexander entered the room, the smell became more potent. Straus drew a deep breath through his nose, smiled, then craned his neck to better see Alexander.

  “You don’t smell it, do you?”

  “You need first to identify what ‘it’ is that I should be smelling.”

  “Untie me.”

  “Tell me what it is that is giving you the confidence to utter commands.”

  “The good news,” Straus continued without hesitation, “was that the last test we subjected you to proved, at last, to be successful. We injected your cells with a virus, the cure for which has avoided thousands of doctors around the world.”

  “And that virus was?” Alexander said, then moved closer to Straus.

  The smell began to overcome Straus. He covered his mouth and nose with his free hand as his eyes began to reflexively water.

  “The HIV virus, Alexander. It was the virus that causes AIDS. I’m sure you’ve read about it during your studies.”

  “I have. And the results of the test?”

  “Your cells seem to provide an effective defense against the virus. In fact, the virus was killed so quickly when introduced to your cells that we had to run the test over several times to be certain. You, Alexander, are the cure to a worldwide epidemic.”

  “How exciting,” Alexander said, his sarcasm practically spewing from his mouth. “And what of the other news?”

  Straus sensed concern in Alexander’s voice and tone, though his facial expressions remained unchanged.

  “Untie me, and I will tell you not only the other news, but I will also tell you how you can prevent your quickly approaching death.”

  “Come come, Doctor. Your arrogance surprises even me.”

  “Have you noticed that your senses are diminishing? The fact that you can’t even smell the odor your body is releasing should be a sign.”

  “And how can you prove that a smell exists? Perhaps your clever mind is latching on to some imagined way to earn your release.”

  “I can’t prove it,” Straus admitted. “But I don’t need to prove to you what will soon be evident. If, of course, my estimations are accurate. Tell me, have you noticed that you can’t smell things as easily as you were once able to?”

  “And if I have noticed?”

  “Jacob wasn’t going to tell you himself. He was waiting for me to arrive to deliver the rest of the news, but then you and your father interrupted things. Do you want to know the rest of the story, Alexander?”

  “If only to satisfy my curiosity, yes.”

  “The virus, though destroyed by your cells, has also made your cells dependent on it. W
ithout the virus, your cells are decomposing at an alarming rate. Thus, the smell of decay that you carry around with you. The fact that you can’t smell it tells me that, as expected, your brain is rotting away. Slowly but surely, I promise you. However, when I discovered the rapidity at which the virus was breaking down your cells, I also discovered a simple cure.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Unknown to you and will remain so if you kill me. And based on just how horrible you smell, it will remain forever unknown unless you release me, now.”

  The power of the blow Alexander delivered directly to Straus’s face, sent Straus’s head snapping back. His nose was crushed and several of Straus’s teeth were reduced to shards of bone. The blood and broken teeth poured into Straus’s throat, making him cough up a terrible mixture of red and white. He slumped to his side, twisting his left arm beneath him into a position that it was not designed for.

  Before he could welcome unconsciousness, Straus felt the iron grip of Alexander’s hand grab his hair and pull his head straight. His body fell limp to his side, and only his head was held upright.

  “I’ve grown tired of your games, Doctor Straus,” he heard Alexander say. “Tell me the rest of the news or, I assure you, you will die a very painful and very slow death.”

  Straus struggled to speak, but his thoughts were scrambled. Words that needed to be said were locked behind the veil of semi-unconsciousness and crushing pain.

  “Tell me, Straus,” he heard again. His head was being shaken much too forcefully for his already damaged neck and brain.

  Then, the darkness returned.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  It was only a few minutes after he had ended his call with Ralph that Derek heard the unmistakable sounds of twigs breaking and footfalls scurrying on the path to his right. He crouched down behind a bush and held his breath as a figure came into view. His obstructed view only revealed that it was a man, tall and slender, who was heading his way. He thought at first about opening his backpack, removing his gun, and to ready himself for an attack, but then remembered that, though his backpack was in reach, it contained no firearm.

  He sat, motionless and as quietly as he could, as the man moved closer. Then he saw the man stop. Derek could see that whoever it was, he too was surveying the hospital, looking for any signs of movement. After what Derek considered to be much too short of a delay, Derek watched the man disappear down the steep hill and towards the rear of the hospital. A minute later, he saw the young man dart towards the hospital, his path leading him straight towards a set of iron stairs leading to a door.

  The young man climbed the stairs quickly and pulled hard on the metal door. It opened in surprising silence. As the man turned over his shoulder, perhaps making sure that no one had seen him, Derek saw the man’s face clearly.

  “Thomas,” Derek thought. “Son of a bitch.”

  After again surveying the area, Derek made his way down the hill. When he reached the parking lot, he bolted across the lot, up the stairs, and to the door. He paused and listened for any noise on the other side of the door before pulling it open. He stepped inside to near absolute darkness.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  It was the sound of the knocking that brought Straus back to consciousness. Gentle, rhythmic knocking. His mind was too cloudy to accurately assign the direction of the knocking, but he was sure it was coming from the hallway door.

  “Let me in!” He heard the knocker’s voice say in an urgent tone.

  Straus then felt the grip that he was unaware was still holding his head release. His body crumbled onto itself, sending a newly discovered stream of pain through his left shoulder.

  Straus heard the bolt and latches of the door being pulled back, the door being opened then shut and secured again.

  “Where’s my father?” the voice sounded. “What did you do with my father?”

  “He has, I’m sure, found peace at last,” the familiar voice of Alexander whispered.

  The next sound Straus heard was a scream followed by what he imagined a barroom brawl should sound like. The brawl lasted but seconds before a large and pronounced thud filled the room. Then a groan and the sound a body makes when it is being dragged across a floor.

  Though unable to move without pain waiting for him, Straus lifted his head off the mattress just in time to see Alexander dropping a body onto the mattress beside Straus. The impact of the body falling onto the bed uncovered an entirely new set of discovered pain in Straus’s rib cage. He tried to scream in agony, but his cry was cut short by Alexander’s hand covering his mouth.

  “You were about to tell me the rest of the story, I believe,” Alexander said.

  Alexander replaced his grip on Straus’s hair and lifted Straus back into a semi upright position.

  “The rest of the story now, if you please, Doctor Straus.”

  The battery-powered lantern’s light was growing dimmer and began to flicker.

  Alexander again released his hold of Straus’s hair, stood and walked out of the room. Straus heard him fumbling through bags in the other room before returning with a package of fresh “D” sized batteries.

  “I honestly didn’t expect to have so many visitors,” Alexander said as he replaced the dying batteries in the lantern. When he spoke again, the lantern jumped back to life and filled the room with a warm, yellowish light. “Recognize him?” he said, pointing to the person laying beside Straus on the mattress.

  Straus looked at the bloodied face of the young man laying unconscious beside him.

  “No. I don’t recognize him.”

  “That,” Alexander said before moving towards a chair positioned at the foot of the bed, “is my long-lost brother. You two actually met a while back. That day you were so generous to allow me time at the lake, we passed a stranger who seemed to appear out of thin air. That stranger was my brother. We had arranged that seemingly coincidental meeting. You see, Doctor, I grew bored and restless of reading the stream of books you provided me. Make no mistake, they were all appreciated, but when I happened to come into the possession of a device that allowed unfettered access to the Internet, books seem too antiquated for my attention.

  “Facebook is absolutely amazing, don’t you agree? Couple it with email, and the world and all of its citizens are practically within reach.”

  “How did you get a device that was connected to the net? Who gave it to you?” Straus demanded.

  “You had left me alone when my father paid a visit. During that visit, he spelled out his plan of action. While I only pretended to share an interest in seeing his plan through to its profitable ending, my father was resolute in blackmailing you and the rest of the doctors involved in my life. So resolute that, I am afraid to say, he lost his perspective along with a healthy amount of suspicion.

  “My father, Doctor Straus, gave me a Smartphone. And with that amazing piece of technology, I gained access to a world well beyond the control of anyone. Millions upon millions of names, articles, books, news items, images, instructions, and vehicles to contact long-lost friends and relatives rested in my hands. Your fear of entering my bedroom made concealment a very simple matter. A few times, I actually left the device connected to its charger on my nightstand while having conversations with you through the glass and steel bedroom door.

  “My brother was, understandably skeptical of my request to keep our engagement a secret at first. But, bless him, he never approached our father or mother for confirmation. Instead, he conducted his own bit of research and discovered that our father was keeping something secret. That something, of course, was his knowledge of me.

  “I contacted my twin brother through Facebook and filled him in on my life. It took a while but Thomas sent me an email, stating that he was going to make contact with me, face to face. I suggested that doing so would involve too much risk. I then suggested that he gain access to my room using the hidden trap door that was recently installed beneath my bed. Yes, Doctor Straus, I’ve had access
to the outside world for quite a while. That was yet another revelation that you would have discovered if you hadn’t been paralyzed with fear and had actually entered my bedroom. That day we encountered him on the street outside of your lodge, Doctor Straus, was just the very first of several meetings.

  “True to his word, Thomas never told a soul, not even our parents, that he knew about me and that he and I were devising a plan of our own. While my father’s plan was focused solely on financial gain, the plan my twin brother and I concocted was entirely about exposing the truth. My plan, however, differed from his.

  “If I may pat myself on my back, the genius on my part was the successful blending of the two plans into the only plan that mattered. That plan, of course, being mine. I’m sure you’ve guessed that my plan had nothing to do with financial reward or exposure but was singularly focused on the list of names that, one by one, were crossed off.