James Patterson - Confessions of a Murder Suspect

“He was experimenting with my life,” Harry said. “He switched out my pills regularly. I always thought…”

“That they were vitamins,” I finished for him. “Maybe steroids for Matty and Hugo.”

“He was trying out new formulations,” Harry said, pointing out the numbers and combinations of colored lines. “No wonder I’m so emotional. Apparently he just couldn’t figure out how to fix me. How to make me right. Like a real Angel.”

I wanted to soothe Harry and tell him it wasn’t true, but in my gut I knew he was right. “Well, then, Harry, you were a perfect experiment.”

“He loved a challenge, didn’t he?” Harry shook his head. “He was running experiments on us. And with me… Well, he never did end up fixing me. And now he never will.” Harry grunted woefully. “We’re doomed, aren’t we, Tandy?”

57

Harry and I were breathless, panting like marathon runners near the end of the race. We were freaking out—because we were freaks .

We’d always known it, but until now, we hadn’t known why we were so different from everyone else. And now we knew.

Our parents had been dosing us with pharmaceutical drugs, messing with our minds and bodies our whole lives.

Harry stayed at the computer, opening files and reviewing them and sending things to his own e-mail address. And then he stopped on one file.

“Tandy, listen to this. Here’s a memo from dear old Uncle Peter to dear old Dad.”

So Uncle Peter knew about this, too?

“ ‘Regarding escalating drug protocols and increasing the percentage of SPD for Matthew.’ SPD for Matthew. Do you think that stands for speed ?”

“XL could be excel ,” I said, reading farther down the open page. “It says here that I was taking XL, Znth, Num, ProMax, and Lazr. Maybe Lazr stands for laser .”

“As in laser focus?”

“Could be, right?” I said.

“What did they do to us, Tandy? What did they do ? ‘Are we not Men?’ ” Harry was quoting one of his favorite writers, H. G. Wells. In his novel The Island of Doctor Moreau , animals were changed into humans in a laboratory called the House of Pain—and if the animals didn’t obey the laws of the lab, they got really Big Chops.

So the Angel kids are bona fide characters in a science-fiction story? Even though I already had my suspicions about the pills, I felt dizzy with the shock of the truth. I grabbed a countertop to steady myself against the rush.

No, we were not men.

We’d been exploited, used without our knowledge or permission. We were lab rats to Malcolm and Peter, scientific works in progress, and there was no excuse in the world for it, even if they thought the drugs were for our own good.

Harry pulled up Matty’s chart and checked the uptick in SPD against the date of Peter’s memo. They matched. The drugs had been increased, and the line on Matty’s chart rose accordingly. The chart was still open on the computer screen when the door to the lab suddenly opened.

Harry and I both jumped guiltily—we were in Malcolm’s private room, and we still had the instinctive fear of a Big Chop.

Hugo stood in the doorway, and he didn’t seem very surprised at what he saw. “So,” said my little brother, “you guys finally found out Malcolm’s secret. It’s about time.”

58

We didn’t have time to question Hugo about his knowledge of the room until we were in the car. Harry and I agreed that we had to get to Matty right away, so Virgil was driving us to the Meadowlands, the Giants’ practice field, an enormous indoor enclosure next to the new stadium. Never mind that it was a Wednesday and that before all this happened, Virgil would have been driving us to school instead. I rubbed my temples with both hands. I couldn’t even think about going back to school.

“Hugo, how did you know about Malcolm’s secret lab? And why didn’t you tell any of us about it? How many times have you been down there?” I was firing off questions as quickly as I thought of them.

“I’d seen Malcolm go in the closet lots of times. One time he forgot to lock the door behind him and I followed. It wasn’t hard.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?” Harry asked.

Hugo just shrugged. “I never went into the lab. I just knew about it. Who cares about a stupid lab? Dad was a scientist, after all.”

This sounded suspicious to me, but I wasn’t sure how to reframe the question so I could pry some answers out of Hugo. We sat in silence as I thought, Harry brooded, and Hugo amused himself by hanging his head out the window.

When we finally arrived at the field, we quickly headed for where the “Ginats” were working out in full pads—running plays, butting heads. I saw Matthew catch a long pass, after which his coach motioned to him to wrap it up and head to the locker room.

He was trotting off the field as Harry, Hugo, and I ran toward him.

Matthew pulled up short and squinted at us. He had his fighting face on. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We need your help, Matty,” I told him firmly.

“Really? You need help from a killer ?”

“Can you blame me for trying to find out who killed them?”

“What was it that Malcolm used to say? That you’re as sensitive as a truck?”

“Sure. I get high praise for my insensitivity.”

“Well, that’s certainly true.” He smiled. And when Matthew Angel smiled, he outshined any movie star you can name. “Look, Tandy. I adore you. You’re my sister. But the further I get from the Angel family tree, the fewer nuts will fall on my head.”

He turned toward the locker room again, and the three of us went after him like a pack of mutts running after a car.

“Matty, we need your help because… well, it’s just like you said in the beginning: One for all and all for one is the best way to proceed now,” I said. “The only way. So hear me out.”

“Keep me out of it. I have enough problems of my own.” He waved us away like we were gnats.

“Hey.”

Matthew stopped walking and turned to face me. “You’re not going to change my mind.”

I put my mad face on.

“If you don’t help us, we’re going to have to go public with what we know. I mean it, Matthew.”

“Get serious. I’m not afraid of you, Tandy.”

“We know about the pills. We found the charts. We’ll find the formulas, too—I’m sure of it. But even now I can say with confidence that those pills have been behind your success, Matty. Your speed and agility. It’s called performance enhancement.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s only because drug screens don’t catch Malcolm’s formulas that you haven’t been caught, but now we know. And if we talk, your career is over .”

Matthew said, “You’d go that far? You’d actually blackmail me? If you go public, all of us will be exposed. You, Hugo, and you, too, Harry. I guess you won’t be playing Lincoln Center again.”

Harry had been teetering on the brink of a meltdown for days, and at Matthew’s words, he finally lost it. He opened his mouth and let out a high C note. And held it. And held it some more.

If a shooting star could make music, it would sound like Harry’s high note. The other football players stopped short. Everyone on the field froze and pinned their eyes on my twin.