Part 3
By Shaddyr
Disclaimers in part 1
**********
Saturday
9am
The Centre
**********
Sydney slowly walked down the
corridor, his heart heavy with grief. The few people he passed gave him a wide
berth. It was common knowledge that Mr. Broots had been found dead at his desk
last night, for like every office and company on the planet, gossip in the
ranks spread faster than the speed of light. At the Centre, of course, the
added fear was that if you found out something you weren’t supposed to there
was a chance that you might be the next mysterious death. No one was interested
in learning more than they really needed to.
Eventually he made his way to the
sub-level where Angelo resided to collect the sample. He carried a box with a
few assorted objects on the pretext of having the empath examine things from
Jarod’s most recent lair. Sydney entered the room the damaged man occupied and
found him sitting in the corner playing with something. Placing the box on the
desk, he approached Angelo, trying to get a better look at what he had. As soon
as he realized what it was he jerked back, revolted. It was a dead rat.
“Angelo! Put that down! It’s full
of germs.”
Angelo ignored him and dangled the
dead rodent by its tail. He was muttering under his breath again and Sydney
recognized it to be the same litany he’d been repeating when sitting in the
vent by the tech lab.
“Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead...”
“Yes, Angelo, it is dead.” Sydney
picked up a nearby trash can and brought it over to him. “Please throw it in
here.”
After inspecting the creature for
a few more moments, he complied. “No second chances.”
Sydney puzzled over that. It
seemed vaguely familiar somehow. Then it came to him; he’d heard it from Broots
when he’d related the run-in he and Miss Parker had with Mr. Cox in the old
infirmary. Cox had made the comment about taxidermy giving the animals a second
chance. Sydney felt a shiver run up his spine. Suddenly recalling Jarod’s
elaborate set up in the wax museum, he remembered the pretender had cast Cox as
the Grim Reaper, and now Angelo was muttering death over and over... It was
finally happening, just as Jarod predicted.
************
Tuesday
11:18 am
The Centre
************
Parker
sat behind her desk staring blankly at the file before her. A tentative knock
on the door captured her attention.
“What?” she barked out harshly.
The door parted just enough to
allow a small dark haired head to pop around it.
“Uhm, I have that report you re-”
“Well, don’t just stand there,
bring it to me,” Parker snapped, cutting the timid computer technician off in
mid sentence. The girl – hardly a woman
she thought – looked barely old enough to be out of high school much less
taking over Broots’ job. Personnel. Someone down there
probably thought this was funny. If this kid couldn’t pull her weight, she
was gone and then Parker would go down and have a chat with whoever was in
charge of the assignments. The thought brought a brief smile to her face.
Broots,
how on earth are we going to get by without you? In three
short days she had come to realize how very much she had relied on Broots’
skill. It was not just in finding trails and searching for clues to Jarod’s
whereabouts, but in every aspect of her work. He found ways around roadblocks
that no one else could even begin to surmount. He went and filched things from
Raines office for her, a seriously career limiting move if he’d been caught –
possibly life threatening, depending on what he had on him at any given time. No
one could possibly replace him. With a heavy sigh she turned her attention to
the report.
Nothing. The post-mortem
toxicology report was clean as a whistle. The lab claimed there was nothing in
Sydney’s sample but spinal fluid and blood. Nothing to explain Broots untimely
death. She flipped forward a page. The Centre’s official coroner’s report said
it was cardiac arrest. What Sydney had identified as an injection site was
being classified as an insect bite. Yeah right. And her mother had killed
herself in the Centre elevator too.
She carefully closed the report,
picked it up by one corner and tossed it in the wastebasket beside her desk.
Time to find out what really happened. She pushed her chair back from her desk
and rose to her feet. Putting her best ‘Your-Worst-Nightmare’ look in place,
she purposefully strode out of the office.
As she made her way towards
Sydney’s office, she spied Lyle and Cox across the mezzanine, standing together
talking. It gave her the creeps the way Lyle watched her, but by God, she’d
chew glass before she’d let him know. She gave him a sweet arsenic smile before
continuing on her way. Moments later she reached the psychiatrist’s office. She
blew in like she owned it.
“Did you get the latest piece of
science fiction from the Centre Lab?” she asked as she crossed her arms in
disgust.
Sydney removed his glasses, laying
them on the desk in front of him before sitting back in his comfortable leather
chair and folding his hands across his torso.
“The results were not particularly
surprising to me,” he answered carefully.
She snorted. “Lyle.” She made the
name sound like a curse. After staring darkly at the carpet for a moment, she
made her way to the chair in front of Sydney’s desk and slid into it, crossing
her elegant legs, arms still folded across her chest.
Syd had just opened his mouth to
say something when his cell phone rang. She waited impatiently while he
answered it.
“Sydney here.”
As she watched, his face took on
the parental look that only accompanied a conversation with Jarod. After a
brief exchange of pleasantries, Sydney looked up at her and she gave a tiny
nod. He proceeded to fill the pretender in on the events of the last few days.
Moments later, Sydney handed the phone to her.
“Jarod,” she managed.
“I am so sorry for your loss.” His
deep voice was laced with sadness. “He was a good man.”
Parker drew a shaky breath and
steadied herself against the fresh sting of pain. “He’ll be missed. By more
than just us,” she said, thinking of Debbie’s pale face when she’d taken it
upon herself to tell the girl personally.
“What will happen to his
daughter?” Jarod asked with genuine concern.
“Don’t worry,” she responded
dryly. “I won’t ruin the job you did in getting custody away from her mother.
She’s going to stay with her Uncle Frank, or Fred or something like that.
Seemed like a nice guy... Broots, with hair.” She felt herself babbling a
little, wondered why she was and decided at the moment she didn’t care. She
made a snap decision and tried not to think about her next words too carefully
as they came spilling out. “The memorial service at 2 tomorrow afternoon at
Blue Cove Cemetery, but I think I’m going to take the whole afternoon off and
go for a walk in Cove Park first.”
She saw the look Syd gave her and
ignored it. She could hardly believe what she was doing herself. This was
tantamount to inviting Jarod to meet her. The long pause on the other end
proved that Jarod was a little surprised by it as well. A few moments later he
spoke again.
“There are several footpaths in
the park for quiet walks. Two of them converge near a huge oak tree. There’s a
wrought iron bench underneath it, perfect for a few introspective moments
alone,” he replied tentatively.
“Sounds nice. I think I’ll have to
check it out.” Suddenly it was all too much for her. She handed the phone back
to Syd without another word.
“Miss Parker?” Jarod questioned
from across the line. Syd responded.
“No, she’s... gone.”
The two of them shared the phone
connection in silence for a moment, each pondering this new turn of events.
Finally Jarod spoke. “Well, I have a plane to catch Syd.” With his usual
temerity, Jarod hung up without another word.
Sydney closed the phone with a
slight flick of his wrist then set it down on the desk before him. Easing back
into his chair, he steepeled his fingers beneath his chin. He considered the
implications of the impromptu meeting as he gazed at the woman before him. The
papers he’d been looking over before Miss Parker came in caught his eye and he
realized he still needed to fill her in on his own personal toxicology report
on his desk.
He cleared his throat slightly,
bringing her out of her reverie. She looked like she was about to defend her
actions, but he just raised a hand and shook his head.
“I
hope you have a pleasant walk tomorrow. I’m certain that everyone will be busy
here following some new lead on Jarod that will pop up over night, no doubt
placing him on the West Coast.”
There was gratitude in her
suspiciously bright eyes, volumes of unspoken thanks for allowing her to
maintain the transparent pretense that there was nothing going on between her
and Jarod. After giving her a warm smile, he continued on with the unpalatable
part of what he had to say.
“The night I examined Broots’
body, I took 2 spinal fluid samples.” He saw her eyes grow large in dawning
comprehension and a ghost of a smile played about her lips.
“Sneaky...” she said, approval in
her tone. “So what did you come up with?”
“The tests I ran not only proved
his death was indeed a murder, they confirm my own personal suspicion that the
Triumvirate is involved.” His tone was bleak. “ I believe they are finally at
the end of their patience, Miss Parker. The drug was one of many developed at
the Centre, one that causes quick and irreversible coronary arrest and brain
death. It normally dissipates within 4 hours in the human body. The only reason
I was able to find a trace of it was because I had the kept the sample
chilled.”
He leaned forward, elbows resting
on his desk, hands clasped together before him. The look on his face was grave.
“It’s the kind of thing the Centre
does to tidy up loose ends – or as an object lesson. I personally can’t think
of anything that Mr. Broots was involved in that would have made him a loose
end in the Triumvirate’s eyes.”
Syd felt a cold shiver up his
spine as she processed that, and the adage about somebody walking on ones’
grave came to mind. He watched the emotions play across her features, sorrow,
disbelief and rage before they settled back into the familiar Ice Queen mask.
Her eyes turned hard and he knew she had decided on a course that she could not
be swayed from. He earnestly hoped it was not one that would result in her
destruction.
She rose from her chair and
smoothed her skirt into place before placing her hands on her hips.
“I think, Syd, that I have a few
loose ends of my own to take care of.”
With that, she turned at strode
out of his office.