Camden's Knife

by John Patrick Kavanagh

  He never pictured himself as a savior or hero. Wexford was a hero, as was Hendricks’s uncle. Camden was a hero, and maybe McReynolds was too, but not him. Something, however, was changing. He couldn’t put his finger on it, or locate its point in space, but he knew it was there. What was it that Hendricks said? The view is always best from the edge of the cliff?

  “Let’s talk,” he finally managed.

  CHAPTER 8

  After an hour’s discussion they agreed upon a plan of action. Stonetree said he’d be in contact before 5:00 the next day to confirm he’d go through with it, needing some time to consider the implications of such a decision. Kissing SUE goodbye was more complicated than kissing his cousin Susie in Colorado good-bye.

  By 3:00 in the afternoon the next day, he knew but the commitment was there, and he was ready to roll the bones. He needed to make a break from everything, even if that break was spent in the unemployment line. This wasn’t a kid swiping DMDs from K-Mart. This was insider corporate espionage, a crime punishable by the corporate death sentence.

  Despite the fact that he’d been up late into the night agonizing over his options, he felt relaxed, even rested, for the first time in weeks. One way or another his situation in life was about to change. Possibly for the worse, he thought. But if all went as planned, probably for the better.

  If Camden was correct about the contents of the notebooks - if they held the missing links in his research - he believed he could have a rough model of the cure developed within eight weeks. Coupled with the rabid nature of the Food and Drug Administration’s response to any CYD-related product, it could be available for testing within a few months.

  Camden said he didn’t want to bind himself to another conglomerate. He wanted to start a company from scratch, its sole raison d’etre being the manufacture and sale of an array of drugs. If it was a success, billions of dollars in sales, year after year, would be assured. He’d need people to run the operation, a task for which he held little interest. In that regard, he wouldn’t make any promises aside from stating he never forgot his friends. For the time being, all he needed was someone to open a door at SUE and he’d correctly guessed that Stonetree possessed a fingiris clearance.

  That was only the beginning. Who knew where the adventure might lead? Maybe this was the break he’d always dreamed of, the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make it big without paying big. The worst SUE would do was axe him. It was the bottom of the ninth, Camden said. No outs, nobody on base, SUE ahead one to nothing.

  While McReynolds was intrigued with the cloak-and-dagger aspects of the adventure, his real motivation was the story, an insider’s account about a cure for CYD with him as a player in the epic to boot. He could have it all at once without having to spend more years waiting for a break and he had the biggest story he could ever hope for.

  At first he felt he was being used but the more he thought about it the more he realized they were doing him a big favor, not the other way around. Even if it only meant the end of his few weeks on the executive floors he’d be grateful.

  Finally there was Sharon. Things were different since London and he was worried, as if a stranger had come between them. Maybe it was her anxiety about CYD or the betrayal of his former beliefs. It could be Classy, the weather, almost anything. The scheme could help save them; perhaps even her life.

  The plan was simple. He’d pick up them up at 8:30 because hardly anyone would be at SUE that late on a Friday night, his recent experiences wandering the halls long after the bonus hour guaranteeing it.

  He’d admit them through one of the Plaza’s side doors, then his guests would go to the Exec Lab to retrieve whatever it was Camden had hidden while he went to his office as a diversion, then return to the first floor where they’d exit through the same door.

  The only real risk was being seen with them or being stopped by Security on the way in or out. Camden’s appearance had changed enough since leaving SUE that it was doubtful he’d be recognized so if they were confronted he’d say they were friends from out of town and that he was merely showing them around, a priv granted to those with fingiris clearance. Once out of the building, his role would be finished, then Camden could approach Lane and make whatever deal he wanted. In the worst scenario, he kept telling himself, he’d be fired. And that, according to Dr. Kravatz’s mind reader, wasn’t such a bad result.

  He’d taken the disc over lunch to see if he was thinking as clearly as he believed he was. According to the results he was right in the pocket. The idea of becoming a hero in return for helping to save Sharon and countless others registered so far into the purple that Kravatz thought the machine was broken. He was also almost as solid in his belief that the job was beginning to harm him both physically and mentally, though still showed some ambiguity about his relationship with Sharon.

  He didn’t feel that what he was prepared to do amounted to a crime despite the Selfscan results. Dishonest or seditious perhaps, but not a crime.

  He called McReynolds first and could picture the smile on his friend’s face when he told him he was ready to lay it on the line. It would be a great adventure, they agreed; serendipity at its best. Robin would be at the hotel at eight and wait in Camden’s room.

  He then called the doctor who seemed pleased but a little nervous. Aside from the possibility of being found out and the ramifications among his colleagues in the scientific community for participating in what amounted to a major theft, he was apprehensive about returning to SUE. He hadn’t been inside or even seen the building since he was dismissed, but was prepared.

  A major theft? A major theft? No, it wasn’t theft. Camden didn’t really want to steal anything. He just wanted to return it to its rightful owner and take a peek at some old research. That’s not theft. A major borrowing perhaps, but not a theft. Besides, who’s going to be crazy enough to try prosecuting someone for saving millions of lives?

  The remainder of the afternoon passed quickly. Stonetree left the Plaza at 7:15 and drove to Sirius to have a snack, a single drink and a cigarette. Tyler rolled in about 7:45 and they chatted for a few minutes about the recent volatility of the Icelandic volcanoes, about Kennard being arrested again, this time for possession of stolen property of all things, and the latest gossip rumors about the World Standoff! Tournament. At 8:05 he said he was leaving, a statement he accurately guessed would merit another fifteen minutes of conversation.

  He arrived at the Hyatt around 8:40. No apologies were necessary Camden told him over the house phone because he and Robin had just finished getting dressed. They’d be right down.

  Stonetree puzzled over this statement as he sat near the elevators. Was he missing something? Was there more to the story than just…what did they call Watergate? A second-rate burglary? Was this going to be more complicated than he’d imagined?

  All his questions were quickly compounded as the elevator doors opened and out stepped his two co-conspirators, smiling arm in arm in their black tuxedos. Stonetree’s jaw dropped in exasperation, prompting laughter from Camden and a grin from McReynolds.

  “You are kidding, aren’t you? This isn’t a lark we’re going on. This is serious stuff. What’s with the tuxedos? We’re not going to the prom.”

  “Wait ’til we get outside,” McReynolds said as they made their way to the door.”It’s okay. It’s all right.”

  When they reached the Cherokee, its flashers blinking as it sat in the no-parking zone, he made to open the door but stopped.”We’re not getting in until you explain this.”

  “Dave, this makes sense,” McReynolds said, resting his hand on the roof of the Jeep.”Did you ever read the Edgar Allan Poe story The Purloined Letter?”

  “You’re going to give me a literature lesson? Jeez.”

  “Did you ever read it?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it’s a great story with a great moral. And the good doctor agrees with me, don’t you Doc?”

  Camden nodded, straightening his bow tie.

/>   “Keep talking.”

  “So Poe wrote this story about a detective and his assistant who break into this other guy’s apartment so they can find this letter that they want. Just like us. You with me so far?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So they rip the entire place apart and can’t find it. They take apart chairs, couches, tear up the carpeting, look in the john, everywhere. And they know it’s there but they just can’t locate it.”

  “And?”

  “So at the end of the story it turns out this letter is hanging in a frame right in front of these jerks and they didn’t see it. Right?”

  “Get to the point, huh?”

  “The point,” he continued, “is that people always overlook the obvious! That’s the point, you idiot. Come on, let’s get on with it.”

  Stonetree stared at him for a moment. How could he have gotten involved in this, he wondered. Maybe it wasn’t too late to make a quick exit. McReynolds and Camden had both lost their minds sometime after three.

  “So wearing tuxedos is supposed to help you find something over at SUE? What are you talking about, man?”

  “Think about it, Dave,” Camden said.”What would somebody in a tuxedo be doing at SUE on a Friday night? If you saw somebody, what would you think?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I’d figure it was somebody who was called away from a banquet who had to take care of something.”

  “Somebody who worked, say, in the mailroom?”

  “No. Somebody important. One of the executives.”

  “Exactly. And do you think your average security person is going to want to hassle an executive who’s been called away from a big party?”

  “Of course not. No way.”

  “And that’s why we got the penguin outfits. When we’re away from you we’ll be on our own. We might have to bluff our way out of something. This way, we lessen our chances of being caught. And then when we’re done, we can crash a party somewhere. Nobody ever stops a man wearing a tuxedo.”

  “And we got one for you too,” McReynolds added.

  “Really?”

  “No, but you can be our driver.”

  Stonetree could contain his laughter for only a few seconds. The tuxedos did make sense and he could use a party when this was over. He cleared a nervous frog from his throat and opened the door.

  As they drove to the Plaza they reviewed the plan again. If they were stopped at the side door, Stonetree would say he wanted to show some out-of-town friends his office. If they met any resistance they’d leave. If they got through the door unmolested, he’d take the executive elevator to 25, go to his office to kill a couple of minutes and then return to the lobby.

  Camden and McReynolds would take a different one to the Exec Lab. McReynolds would stay at the elevator, holding it for the two minutes Camden figured he’d need to retrieve his prize then they’d meet Stonetree downstairs and exit through the same door. If all went well up to that point, they’d be home free.

  To add to their disguise, McReynolds wanted to carry a champagne bottle and Camden a briefcase.

  “The briefcase is okay,” Stonetree said, “but not the champagne bottle. That could only get us in trouble.”

  “You’re probably right,” McReynolds replied.”But I think we ought to slosh a little around in our mouths and smoke a cigarette. That’ll give us party breath. What do you think?”

  “I guess for the two of you it makes sense but not for me. I’m just back to pick something up. I just left.”

  Camden opened the champagne while McReynolds lit a cigarette. It was only half finished when they pulled onto the side street bordering the Plaza. Few cars were crowded along the curb so Stonetree eased into a space close to the door and they got out to look around. There were only two people on the street, a couple kissing beneath an overhang down the block.

  Stonetree led them to the side entrance, seeing that there wasn’t a guard at the security desk visible through the glass. He tried the door but it was locked. It suddenly occurred to him he’d never used the fingiris machine before and his mind went blank as he stared at it.

  “Dave,” McReynolds said after a moment.”Are we going to do this sometime tonight or what?”

  “Just wait a second. I can’t remember how to work it. She showed me how to use it but I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Sheila?” Camden asked, a wide grin spreading across his face.

  “Yeah! How’d you know?”

  “She showed me how to work it too. That must be a concentration test Pete designed.” He chuckled.”Hit the switch on the left, put your left thumb into the receptor and your right eye up to the lens. That ought to do it.”

  Stonetree complied and the lock on the door clicked. McReynolds pulled on the handle and it opened, then they quickly walked to the elevators. A frail old man was pushing a huge dry mop down one hall and Stonetree could see a couple of security people in the front lobby engaged in conversation. They moved to separate lifts.

  His opened as soon as he pressed the button and turned, looking to his accomplices as the door began to close. Camden gave him a thumbs-up sign as he pressed 25.

  Nobody was there when he arrived. He got off and hurried to his office, switching on the lights then stepping to the window, peeking around the side of the blinds to look at the skyline. From somewhere below he could hear the up-and-down tones of a squad car or ambulance and felt his stomach twist. Maybe the siren was on its way to drag him away to a dungeon; to beatings and spiders on the walls.

  He turned off the lights and walked back to the elevator at a more leisurely pace. There was nothing to be afraid of, nothing to fear he thought as he ambled to his ride down. What would Lane think if she ever found out about this? He wondered what it was that Camden had squirreled away in the massive complex. If it was so important, how could it have been ignored for a year? Why didn’t anyone stumble onto it? Was it really pictures? Or plans of some kind? Maybe, he mused, it was just a letter hanging in a frame. What had McReynolds called it? Purloined.

  Again the elevator opened as soon as he pushed the button. He hopped in and pressed Lobby, then realized his heart was racing, beating furiously. His mouth was dry and he felt warm and a bit queasy but not worried. It would all be over in a few minutes.

  He took a deep breath as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. He took three steps forward and glanced around. No one was there. He took a few more to look down the main hall that ran from the front to the back of the building. Standing in the main lobby was one of the security guards he’d before, now alone and staring back at him. Moving back to the elevators he heard a ding. It was them.

  “We got it. Let’s go,” McReynolds whispered.

  They stepped quickly to the side door but as they crossed the main hall he noticed the guard walking toward them. He sped up a bit and turned back to look when they reached the exit. Maybe the guard was going somewhere else. He stared at the fingiris.

  “Hit the switch, insert thumb,” Camden reminded him. Stonetree went through the steps and the door clicked open just as heard a voice from behind ask, “Gentlemen?”

  They all turned. The guard was young but big and nervous looking, gently rocking his nightstick. Stonetree smiled.

  “Yes?” he replied, approaching and glancing at his nameplate.”Mr. Keeton. What can I do for you?”

  “You’re an employee?”

  “Yes I am.”

  “And you?” the man said, looking at McReynolds.

  “These two gentlemen are my friends,” Stonetree said.”They’re from out of town. They’re in town for…what was it?”

  “A wedding,” McReynolds offered.

  “A wedding? On a Friday night?” Keeton countered.

  “Sure. It’s an old friend of ours. He’s a musician. A sax player. This is his only night off.”

  “I see. And you are who?”

  “Stonetree. David Stonetree. I’m the director of corporate projects for Miss Lane. Up on 25.” />
  “Could I see your ID, please?”

  He pulled out his wallet and removed the cards he kept stuffed on one side. He had his license, his Sirius card, two credit cards, a picture of Sharon, a folded $20 bill and his health club membership. But no ID.

  “I’m sorry. I must have left it at home. We came in through this door. I’m on the system.”

  “Show me,” the guard replied.

  Stonetree turned toward the machine, pressed the switch, placed his thumb into the receptor and then his eye against the lens. The lock clicked. He pushed on the door, opening it a few inches.

  “See?” he asked.”No problem. Uh, we have to get going now. Good night.”

  “Mr. Stonetree?”

  “Yes?”

  “There have been a few reported instances of employee defalcation lately and we have orders to stop anyone we might be suspicious of.”

  “And?”

  “And I certainly wouldn’t ask that you or your friends submit to a personal search or anything like that, but I would like to just take a quick look in that briefcase if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Mr. Keeton, this isn’t necessary. Could we just leave please?”

  “I’m going to have to insist, Mr. Stonetree,” the guard said, eyeing them individually.”You know the rules. We can check bags anytime we want. That’s the policy. I’m sure you’ve had a briefcase or two examined before.”

  Stonetree nodded.

  “If you’d like, I can call up my sergeant,” Keeton said, reaching to the small radio attached to his collar.”It won’t take but a minute for him to get here.”

  Stonetree looked at Camden.

  “I have nothing to hide from our young friend.”

  “If you don’t mind, sir.”

  Keeton pointed toward the security desk. Camden placed the case on its side and unlatched the two locks but didn’t open it, rather motioning to the guard who raised the top revealing the only items it contained—two small, dark brown plastic bottle with a white caps.

  “What’s in these?”

  “Apple juice.”