George Chesbro - Bleeding in the Eye of a Brainstorm

MacWhorter again sipped at his coffee, had himself another good think. Finally he said, "Their medical needs are being met?"

"That's what I said." And wished I hadn't.

"They're on some kind of shit they took with them, right? It must be the same stuff we found in the stiff s tissues, the stuff you're so anxious to have me identify for you. So I assume Rogers is on the same shit, and maybe it's that shit that caused him to go over the edge when he discovered he could get his rocks off by sticking ice picks in people. How am I doing now, Frederickson? Am I getting any warmer?"

"Is he getting his rocks off by sticking ice picks in people?"

"Yep. You were right about that too. Semen traces on all of the victims' clothing we've been able to reexamine properly, and even at a couple of sites on the pavement. You were also right about the low sperm count. The guy is a walking cum factory. What does he do, walk around with his dick out?"

"I don't know. It's possible, but I think it's more likely that his pants are soaked with semen, and some of it rubs off when he makes contact with his victims."

"I believe we were discussing the shit these people are taking, and whether it could be responsible for making Rogers the way he is. I asked you if I was getting warmer, and you haven't given me an answer."

"I think it's time we changed the subject. I told you there are things you don't want to know because I know you care about what happens to these people. Let's suppose, for the sake of argument, that you're absolutely right, that they' re on a medication that enables them to function normally, but it's also the same drug that turned Rogers totally dysfunctional and caused him to start killing people. I really don't know what's making him kill, but I'll bet you real money that the drug these people are taking, if they're taking any drug, was never submitted for FDA approval by the CIA or the company that manufactured it. It won't be listed anywhere. So what are you going to do if one of them shows up and you know he's carrying some of this strange dope? Are you going to let him keep it? How could you, considering the risk involved? But if you did take it away, then maybe this person would go nuts again-or worse. Maybe this person dies on you. I don't think you want that responsibility. You should worry about catching Rogers, who's a criminal."

"And you insist this drug is only hypothetical?"

"I'm asking you to listen very carefully to what I'm saying. In the hypothetical situation I've just outlined, for your own future peace of mind you would not want to have probable cause for search and seizure with any escaped patient who voluntarily came to you for protection."

"In this hypothetical situation, maybe there's some substitute medication they could take that's safe and approved."

"Maybe, maybe not. They obviously don't think so. Neither does the shrink who helped them escape, and she's in the best position to know. It could very well be that they know this hypothetical uncontrolled is the only thing that can keep them alive and truckin', and they don't want to ask the police for help for fear it will be confiscated. "

MacWhorter grunted, then narrowed his eyes as he studied my face. "I don't suppose you're trying to get more of this hypothetical uncontrolled for these people, are you? That would be pretty stupid."

"I told you what I'm trying to do; I want to find them before Punch and Judy put a bullet in their skulls. But I also need a place to bring them, someplace where their needs will be understood and they'll be guaranteed safety."

"You could be looking for some big trouble that wouldn't be at all hypothetical."

"Captain, every time I open my mouth to you, you want to close it by lopping my head off."

The burly policeman shook his head. "You're wrong, Frederick-son," he said evenly. "That's not what's happening here. I very much appreciate this little chat, and I'm inviting you to take me completely into your confidence. It isn't for you to decide whether or not laws are being broken, and telling me everything you know now could protect you in the future if things go sour. Man, if you're trying to obtain and distribute shit that has the potential of turning people into homicidal sex maniacs, you are sticking your neck out a long, long way. It doesn't matter what your motives are. Can't you see that? I'm not threatening you; I'm trying to give you a warning. You want to be looked on as an accomplice if one of these people you're trying to help turns into another Raymond Rogers? I can imagine hypothetical scenarios where you could wind up in prison for a very long time."

"Change the subject, Captain, or I walk. What else do you want to know? Is there anything that isn't clear to you?"

I waited, meeting his gaze while he considered the question. Appearances and occasional behavior notwithstanding, there wasn't any moss growing on Felix MacWhorter, and giving him free license to keep firing at me until his gun was empty was risky business. But I thought it was worth the risk. For the most part, what I was telling him was the truth, and a mollified, relatively informed Felix MacWhorter could prove to be a valuable ally to Margaret Dutton, Michael Stout, and the others when they did turn to the authorities for help, which they would eventually have to do.

He began to tap the fingers of his right hand on his desk, an indication to me that he'd reloaded. "How did Punch and Judy manage to keep you from beating the shit out of them?"

"They got the drop on me, and they had me trussed up like a pig."

"And they were torturing you until Lou came along." "Right."

"It wouldn't have taken them a second to slit your throat, or put a bullet in your brain."

"And then off Lou, for that matter."

"So why didn't they? You knew all about them, so why didn't they kill you?"

"An excellent question, one I've been asking myself. I don't have the answer."

"Maybe not, but I'll bet you have a theory."

"A couple of them, actually. First, they may have believed a bullshit story I told them, and-"

"They're buzzing you with a stun gun, and you told them a bullshit story?"

"What else was I going to do? They'd have killed me on the spot if I'd told them the truth. Knowing that you're going to die if you don't come up with just the right tall tale does wonders for focusing the mind."

"What was the story?"

"I told them that the cops, FBI, Daughters of the American Revolution, and every character on Sesame Street knew all about them and Rivercliff and the escaped patients, and that it was only a matter of time before they were caught if they didn't get out of the country. They weren't quite sure they believed me, but it set them to thinking. They were getting ready to buzz me again when Lou came calling."

"I still don't understand why they didn't kill you-and Lou."

"They probably would have if they'd been convinced it wasn't true, because then nobody could have pinned the murders on them. But if it was true that the whole operation was blown, then killing me could have serious consequences, and killing Lou would most definitely have serious consequences. The NYPD would have shut down the entire city until they were found, if you did know who they were. Kill me, and they might not have been safe even back on their home turf. They had a pretty good line on me, so they must know something about Garth and his reputation for tenacity. It's possible they were more worried about him than about the authorities, because he wouldn't be in the least concerned with jurisdiction or legal niceties. It's possible they didn't kill me because they didn't want him on their trail. My brother can get pretty furry."

"You mean like a squirrel?"

"I mean like a werewolf-although he can get pretty squirrelly before he tears your throat out. Lately, he's been doing John Wayne imitations when he's mad at somebody; if you hear the Duke talking to you, then it's time to get out of the vicinity. Garth can be very dangerous if you're a bad guy, and he takes no prisoners. They may not have wanted to take a chance on messing with him if my murder could be pinned on them. Like I said, I'm guessing. At the time, they didn't seem all that impressed by anything I was saying."