Antenna Syndrome (17 page)

Vivien shook her head. “What the hell were those
things? Were they real?”

I thought of all those paintings in Marielle’s room
– the ladybugs, beetles and moths. It all made a sort of sense and
it didn’t make any sense at all.

“Giant cloned hornets,” I told her. “I think
Marielle’s been kidnapped by a mad scientist.”

Chapter 29

We waited out in the lake. I had to admit the ransom
exchange – small bundles of money airlifted by giant hornets – had
been efficient. No one in their right mind would have stood in the
way of those hornets. A sting from something that big could induce
immediate anaphylactic shock. And even if I’d worn dragon skin body
armor, how could I have followed them across the water?

After half an hour and still no call from the
kidnappers, we realized something wasn’t going according to plan.
Or at least not our plan. We returned the boat to the marina and
headed back to East Massapequa.

“How’d Marielle get so interested in insects
anyway?” I asked Vivien on the return trip.

“She was fascinated from an early age, and one thing
led to another. She collected pictures of bugs, started
photographing them, then sketching and painting. She even took an
online course in entomology to understand their anatomy. At one
point, she wanted to start an apiary but her father wouldn’t let
her. You saw the flower boxes on her balcony? They’re to attract
bees.”

Her mention of entomology triggered something. “Who
offered the online course?”

“NYU.”

“Did Marielle ever mention the name Dr. Globik?”

“No. Who’s he?”

I told Vivien the gist of it – a gifted polymath
with advanced degrees in medicine and entomology who’d been fired
from NYU for unethical practice. Who’d subsequently opened a
private clinic dedicated to advanced prosthetics.

“You think he had something to do with her
kidnapping?”

“The evidence suggests some connection. Even though
I don’t understand why a scientist of his stature would stoop to
something like that.”

“Maybe he saw it as a challenge,” Vivien said. “Even
Dr. Mengele must have acted for reasons that made sense to him at
the time.”

She made a good point. But whether Dr. Mengele was a
scientist at heart or a sadistic racist given free rein to
experiment with people in the Nazi concentration camps was
debatable. I’d made up my mind on that one.

We were silent, each in our own thoughts, the rest
of the way back. I wondered why she hadn’t received another call
from the kidnappers. By now, they’d have counted the money and
known she’d met their demand.

“Maybe she’ll be at the house when we return,”
Vivien said.

“I hope you’re right.” But I wasn’t that much of an
optimist.

Back at the house, the Volvo was there but still no
sign of the Tesla. Vivien unlocked the door and we entered the
foyer. She went to the security panel and punched in a code.

“That’s weird,” she said. “Where are the dogs?”

She called for them and hurried down the hall. I
followed. In the kitchen she let out a shriek. The two dogs lay on
the floor. She kneeled beside them. One dog raised its head a few
inches and then dropped back to the floor. The other dog’s tail
twitched briefly.

I checked them out. They were both breathing in
shallow pants and their eyes were glazed. A puddle of drool lay
under each dog’s head.

“It looks like they’ve been doped,” I said.

“How?”

“Beats me.” But after what we’d seen at the lake, I
wondered if some kind of insect hadn’t bitten them.

“Maybe someone got in.”

“But you armed the security system before we
left.”

“Yes, although it looks like the power was off.” She
pointed to some blinking lights among the kitchen appliances.

The clocks had all re-set to 00:00 and the time now
read 1:10. Where had we been an hour and ten minutes ago? Probably
in the middle of the lake. Nicely timed.

“Look around, see if anything’s missing.”

She drew her pistol from her purse and called out.
“Jack! Are you here?” No answer. She quickly went through the
ground floor. “Marielle!” She took the elevator to the third
floor.

I inspected the back door to the patio. Nothing
forced or broken. I tapped my goggles and called up the magnifying
glass utility. I crouched at doorknob level and inspected the lock.
Fresh oil in the key aperture, a few scratches in the finish.
Someone might have picked the lock.

The dogs lay on the floor six feet away. Someone
could have opened the door just enough to insert a dart gun. After
a minute, they could have waltzed right in. But for what
purpose?

I heard a scream from the third floor. I couldn’t
wait for the elevator. I ran up the stairs to the second floor and
passed through the hidden door in the study closet. I drew my gun
as I climbed the stairs to Marielle’s third-floor loft. Vivien
stood there wailing, but seemingly unhurt.

“Vivien,” I warned her I was there, mindful of the
gun in her hand.

“They took all her paintings.”

I walked around the loft, which now seemed strangely
barren. All of those pictures, a dozen or more, were now gone, even
the ones where her subjects had barely been sketched in.

I’d had a bad feeling all the way to Ronkonkoma,
that a ransom payment wouldn’t bring Marielle home. Now, we’d been
doubly duped. Knowing the house would be vacant, someone had taken
advantage of our absence to steal Marielle’s paintings as well.

Vivien phoned Jack. Turns out he was on his way
home, just a few blocks away. Five minutes later, he joined us in
Marielle’s loft to see the situation for himself.

“Sonofabitch!” His outrage seemed genuine. He turned
to Vivien. “Did you forget to arm the security system when you
left?”

“She didn’t forget,” I said. “Someone cut the power,
jimmied the back door and doped the dogs. They were probably in and
out of here in half an hour.”

Jack and Vivien searched the third floor more
closely to see if anything else had been taken. I looked to see if
anyone had left a note or some clue as to their identity.

After we’d finished on the third, we took the back
stairs down to the second floor. Vivien and Jack looked around
Jordan’s apartment. Everything seemed to be in order, which I found
a bit odd. I’d have thought the thieves might have taken the
opportunity to lift anything else of value in the house. But it
seemed like they’d only come for the paintings.

Chapter 30

Back on the ground floor, Jack checked the security
video. Nothing from the house cameras. We watched a short clip from
a camera near the lane entrance. In it, a white van parked at the
roadside. A short man got out and effortlessly climbed a power
utility pole without lineman’s gear. Moments later, the video feed
died. After a brief snowstorm of static, the man descended the
utility pole and got back into the van. Except now the van was
pointed in the other direction. Obviously, time had elapsed. During
the power interruption, the thieves had loaded Marielle’s paintings
into the van. We watched it drive away without getting a look at
the plates.

“You see him climb that pole?” Jack said. “Like a
fucking monkey.”

“Was that the same guy who repaired the AC?”

“No. That other guy was tall. This guy was too
short.”

“If those paintings were insured, you need to report
the theft,” I told them. “You can at least provide the police a
general physical description.”

Vivien shook her head. “We can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“You know.” She gave me a look. “What they
said…”

I knew what she meant. But technically, this was now
more about an insurance claim than a kidnapping. But would the
criminals make that distinction?

“Who said what?” Jack said.

I knew she didn’t want to admit it, but Jack had a
right to be kept in the loop. “Vivien got a ransom demand this
morning. The caller warned her not to contact the cops. She asked
me to ride shotgun to make the payment.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said to her.

“I didn’t want to interfere with your outing.”

Jack bit his lip, glancing at me as if he resented
my presence. “How much did you pay?” he asked her.

She told him.

“That’s chump change. If Jordan was on the hook for
this, he’d have paid ten times as much. What the fuck’s going on?”
He looked at me.

“I wish I knew,” I said.

He shook his head. “I need a drink.”

“Haven’t you had enough already today?” Vivien said.
“I can smell it on you.”

Jack forced a smile. “Join me, Savage?”

“Sure.” I was still somewhat unnerved by what I’d
seen on Ronkonkoma Lake. I needed a shot of
aqua vita
like a
three-testicled sailor needed shore leave.

I followed him into the salon. It was all polished
wood and leather, a handful of club chairs in a crescent around a
fireplace. A corner cabinet was stocked with twenty different kinds
of booze. Jack poured a couple of scotch-and-waters and we sat. He
took his phone from his pocket and laid it on the table between
us.

“Where were you today?” I asked him.

“I don’t have to account for my whereabouts.”

“True,” I agreed. “But seriously, where were
you?”

He shrugged. “Visiting a friend.”

“A regular thing in your agenda, or something out of
the blue?”

“It was kind of spontaneous, now that you mention
it.”

“Your idea or hers?”

He looked at me for a moment before answering.
“Hers.”

“How well do you know her?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Maybe you were lured out of the house, same as
Vivien was.”

He nodded. “That’s why the ransom was low. It was
too good to be true. They just wanted Viv out of the house to steal
the paintings.”

“But they knew you were out too. That raises a few
possibilities: they’re watching the house, they’ve tagged your car,
or your playmate’s in on the deal.”

He didn’t leap to denial, so all three were
possible. But only the third would have guaranteed enough time to
do what the thieves had done.

“How would they know about her paintings?” Jack
said. “Aside from Jordan and us, nobody knows she even exists.”

“Except for her sister, art dealer, astrologer and
maybe a few online friends you know nothing about,” I reminded
him.

“Did you find Myers yet?”

“Yeah.” I took a shot of scotch and let it circulate
around my teeth before I swallowed. “But only after your guy Walker
had his way with him.”

Jack eyed me over the glass poised at his lips.
“Sorry about that.”

“Some double standard,” I said. “You cheat on her,
but you’re a jealous husband?”

“I’m not jealous because Viv’s not the type to
cheat. But she is susceptible, and there are lots of cons out
there. I’m just trying to protect her.”

“Nice to know you have her best interests at
heart.”

I wondered if Myers had been able to read Jack’s
chart well enough to warn Vivien he was cheating on her? Maybe
she’d confronted him over it. Maybe Jack had sent Walker to give
Myers a message, and poor Jenner had ended up getting it
instead.

“Spare me the sarcasm.” He took a drink and summoned
a little attitude. “But let’s not forget, you’re just a hired
snoop, not to mention, a guest in this house.”

“Sure. And you’re the live-in handyman. What’s your
point? You think you can fire me?”

“I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“Then stay out of my way. Or if you have another
agenda, save it till I’m done. Otherwise, I’ll bail, but not before
I bring Jordan into the loop.”

He drained his scotch and gnashed an ice cube. Tough
guy. But he had reason to worry. Marielle had disappeared on his
watch. Jordan could fire him, maybe even sue him for dereliction of
duty. Then he’d really need a drink.

I went to the kitchen. Vivien was still with the
dogs, who’d recovered enough to drink a little water. I crouched
beside her and said in a low voice, “Distract Jack for a few
moments. I need to get my hands on his phone. I’m going back now.
Give me a minute, then call him in a panic.”

“What panic?”

“Something to do with the dogs,” I suggested.

She nodded. I returned to my chair in the salon. I
picked up my drink and swirled the shrinking ice cubes in the
watery scotch. Waiting...

“Jack! Gretel’s having a seizure.” The alarm in
Vivien’s voice sounded both genuine and urgent.

Jack was out of his chair and across the room in a
shot. I grabbed his phone from the table between us. It hadn’t been
dormant long enough to go into sleep mode and demand a password. I
located his phone activity log, sent it to an anonymous mailbox,
and deleted evidence of my presence.

I put the phone back and went out to the kitchen.
Jack and Vivien were both sitting on the kitchen floor with the two
dogs.

“What’s happening?” I said.

“Gretel had some sort of seizure,” Jack said,
stroking the dog’s muzzle, “but she seems okay now.”

Vivien gave me a look. I nodded. Mission
accomplished.

“I’m going to head out before the traffic builds
up,” I said. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

Chapter 31

I returned to the city. Between the time I’d wasted
on Long Island, and the inbound traffic, it was after six when I
crossed the Williamsburg Bridge back into what I used to think was
civilization.

The underground lot on Delancey was full but I found
another parking facility a block north. It was warm outside, and a
heavy pall of smog hung like cobwebs over the street. I pulled on
my eMask and walked briskly to LeVeen’s building. In the lobby I
buzzed his apartment, but got no answer. I looked at my watch. Six
thirty. He should have been home by now. I picked another unit,
rang the bell and got buzzed in without a word. My lucky day.