Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 01 - Headaches Can Be Murder (25 page)

She looked down and smiled. “Oh, if only we had time.” Jo sighed. “However, duty beckons. Belinda called; she said she has something we need to see. She’s going to meet us back at her house in half an hour.”

He toweled his hair and then wiped down his torso. “Did she find out what NC-15 is?”

Jo shook her head. “Didn’t say. She said she was in a hurry, so I didn’t get many details.” She hesitated, and then bit her lower lip. “I can’t help but worry about her. She sounded a bit odd, but at the time I thought it was just that she was crunched for time. You don’t think Candleworth has discovered what she’s up to, do you? I wonder if we made a mistake getting her involved.”

John stood up, wrapped the towel around his waist and pulled her to him. He felt a need to reassure her. And to reassure himself. “I’m sure she’s fine. We finally convinced her that Candleworth is up to no good. She’s got a huge stake in this, even more than we do. Not only that, she’s smart. She’ll be careful.”

“Just the same, I’m going to have Frisco meet us at her place. I know it’s out of his jurisdiction, but he said to call him if I got in a bind. I’d feel better having some back-up.” She shrugged. “Call me paranoid.”

“I’d never call you paranoid. Just prepared. So, no word then from your guys in Minneapolis?”

“They planned on heading up first thing this morning, but a whopper of a snowstorm hit the Cities last night. They might be here later today, but I’m not holding my breath. Gotta love Minnesota winters.”

He released her and bent down to pick up his clothes from one of the deck chairs. He pulled on his shirt and jeans, and tugged on his fur-lined boots. Giving his hair one last rub with the towel, he put on his coat and followed her out into the cold.

Frisco was leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette when they pulled over several yards from the entrance to the CFO’s winding driveway. He tossed the butt to the road and ground it out with his toe. He walked to Jo’s open window and greeted them. “I see the two of you more than I see my wife and kids these days. So, are you thinking this might be a double-cross?”

Jo shook her head. “Not necessarily. Yesterday, Ms. Peterson seemed fully convinced that she’s been a victim of NeuroDynamics. She sounded a little strange when she called. It’s probably just me being overly cautious.”

“Nothing wrong with listening to your gut. Never doubt it, myself. Maybe that’s what’s kept me alive for twenty years on the force.”

“I don’t want Belinda to know you are backing us up. Do you mind waiting here? Just before I enter her house, I’ll call you and leave the phone on, in my pocket. That way, you will be able to hear if anything is amiss. That work for you?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Jo closed the car window and drove forward, turning into the entrance. The driveway was icy. The trees lining the drive prevented the sun from melting the snow. As they neared the house, she attached a small microphone to her cell phone. She then hit the speed dial for Frisco’s cell and slipped her phone into her jacket’s inner pocket. Jo threaded the microphone’s wire through a tiny hole just beneath the stitching at the collar.

They carefully walked up the slick steps to the front door and rang the doorbell. Today, Belinda answered immediately.

It was obvious to John that the CFO was in a great deal of pain and any concerns he had about her being a threat to them vanished. Her face was pinched and there was very little color in her face. He reached out and touched her shoulder. “Ms. Peterson, how are you feeling? You look like you have a terrible headache.”

She rubbed her forehead. “It’ll pass. These headaches seem to come and go. I was fine this morning and then it came back with a vengeance. I took some more ibuprofen before you arrived. It’ll be better soon.”

John had his doubts. “I can write a prescription for something stronger, if that would help. I hate to see you suffer like this.”

Belinda waved her hand, as if swatting a pesky fly. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that later.” She led them to the fireplace, once more. “I didn’t sleep too well last night, trying to figure out where I could find the data on NC-15. I finally got up and went into the office around six this morning.”

Jo cleared her throat and said, “I didn’t think to ask yesterday. I noticed your husband and kids aren’t around …”

Belinda’s eyes filled with tears and she said, “Michael thought it best to take the kids and visit his mother. We’ve been arguing a lot lately and well, as you know, I haven’t exactly been myself.” She shrugged. “He needed a break, but I miss them so much. They are my whole world.”

John felt the sadness roll off of the woman like lake fog. He was more determined than ever to do what he could to restore this woman’s life to her before it was too late.
If it wasn’t already too late.

Jo said, “You said you found something we should see …”

“Yes.” Some of the color returned to Belinda’s face as she spoke. “I went to the labs. A few of the researchers were in already, and I told them I was there to conduct a surprise audit.”

John said, “Do you normally audit the labs?”

Belinda smiled briefly. “No. No need to. The financial records of the labs are handled by my department. Of course, the scientists don’t know that. I told them Candleworth was concerned with their record keeping and that there were discrepancies. I threw in a few financial terms for good measure, like return on investment and unit cost analysis schedule.” She let out a dry chuckle. “Those lab geeks never knew what hit them. They couldn’t give me access to their files fast enough.”

John smiled. Belinda’s plan had been simple, but bold, no doubt about it. “So, what did you find? Anything to explain what they are injecting into people?”

Belinda pulled out a thick, blue binder. “I compiled this. It’s filled with all the paperwork I could find with reference to NC-15. Even with my experience with this company, it didn’t make much sense to me. Maybe you can decipher the medical mumbo-jumbo.”

John took the binder from her hands and paged through, reading here and there as particular phrases would catch his eye. He devoured the pages, anticipation spurring him on to read faster. The answer was here, he knew it in his soul.

Belinda spoke up, “Did you find anything?”

John did not respond for quite some time. He was sickened by what he had found. When he looked up, he stared off into the darkened fireplace.
This is even worse than I could have imagined. I can’t tell her about this, at least, not yet.
He cut his eyes toward Jo and then towards Belinda, hoping Jo would understand that he would explain everything later, when they were alone.

Jo’s eyes widened slightly and she gave him a barely perceptible nod.
Good; she understands.
Her eyes strayed away from the CFO’s face when she spoke up for John, “I think we should take the information back to the condo for further analysis, don’t you think, Dr. Goodman?”

Before John could respond, Belinda looked at him and said, “Oh, no. You’re not going to keep this from me. I saw it in your eyes. It’s bad, isn’t it? You know what’s in the injections.” When John didn’t say anything, Belinda turned to Jo. “You two are trying to protect me. I need to hear this.” Her eyes pleaded with them both. “Please.”

John decided that she was right. Waiting to tell her wasn’t going to make it any easier. “Very well. Yes, I found something and it’s … well, it’s not good. Didn’t think it was possible. I’ve read about this, but I thought it was several more years away …”

Jo gently touched his thigh, startling him out of his thoughts. “Are you going to let us in on that brain wave of yours?”

John could no longer contain the rage he felt. He spat out the words, “A huge piece of the puzzle just fell into place. NC-15 is a serum containing nanochips, which are injected to flow into the …”

Jo held up her hand. “Whoa. Nanochips? I thought we were talking about microchips here.”

He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak slower, calmer. He had to make it clear to them both, especially Belinda. “We are, sort of. Think of them as a much smaller cousin of the microchip. They’re invisible to the naked eye, minute as a speck of dust. There have been studies to determine their use in surgical instrumentation, diagnosis, and drug delivery. Scientists in London have been working on nanochips to act as ‘micro-shuttles’ to deliver specific doses of medicine to the correct location. Afterwards, they can be used to monitor the patient’s recovery.”

“So, you’re saying they inject these nanochips to flow into the … ?

“The locus ceruleus.”

Jo massaged her temples. “God, this stuff is giving
me
a migraine. Locust what?”

“Locus ceruleus, or LC for short. It’s a nucleus in the brain stem involved with physiological responses to stress and panic. For such a small part of the brain, it is very important. It is the origin of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD for short. Also, in Alzheimer’s patients, there can be a loss of up to seventy percent of neurons in the LC.”

He tapped his forehead. “You’ve heard of research showing that brain injuries to the frontal lobe can cause criminal behavior, right?”

“Yes. In a college psych class, I wrote a term paper on a guy that was perfectly normal until he suffered a brain injury and then he murdered seventeen women.”

John nodded. “That’s right. But what’s not as widely known is that increased aggressiveness and lack of impulse control can sometimes be traced to increased levels of norepinephrine levels in the LC.”

Belinda spoke up. “Okay, so how does that relate to mind control?”

He could feel his heart racing as the anger filled him once more. “What if the injected nanochips shuttle through the blood stream to the LC? Once it arrives at its destination, it increases the norepinephrine and decreases the neurons, thereby shutting down the ability of the person to choose between right and wrong.”

Jo’s face flushed. John could tell she had caught on to the importance —and horror—of what he was saying. “So, you’re thinking that these mad scientists told Belinda and the others that they were going to have a microchip implanted to control their migraines, or depression, or what have you. They receive a microchip, but also an injection of nanochips— the NC-15—that flows into the, what did you call it? Oh, yeah. The LC.”

“Makes sense so far.”

John saw that Belinda had gone pale again. She was silent, seeming to absorb their discovery. He was concerned more than ever about her health. He reached out to her once more and placed a hand over hers. “Ms. Peterson, are you alright?”

Her eyes stared forward, focused on some distant point in the room. “I … I honestly don’t know. How does the mind control … I can’t believe I’m saying those words. How does the mind control work?”

Jo spoke. “Let’s assume that John’s right about the NC-15 destroying inhibitions. Moving forward, as you and the other patients recovered from the surgery, you had several post-surgery visits. Only instead of just monitoring your recovery, they are testing the effectiveness of the nanochips in destroying your ability to distinguish between right and wrong.”

As if Jo couldn’t sit still any longer, she stood up and walked to the fireplace. “They tested you with petty crimes, and then recorded the results in the files.”

Belinda’s face was scrunched in confusion. “But why bother with the microchip at all?”

“I think it has to do with the success rate of the NC-15. If the nanochips fail to reach the LC or if they don’t fully alter the test subject’s morals, then NeuroDynamics would need to have a way to destroy the test subject, no questions asked.”

The CFO’s hand flew to her mouth as she realized the enormity of what had happened to her. “My God. What have I done?”

John knelt by her side. “You can’t blame yourself; you couldn’t have known what they were doing to you. You were looking for a way to end your headaches …”

Belinda turned to him. It was as if the life had already left her eyes. “No, you don’t understand. I didn’t know … I thought you were mistaken. I wanted to prove you wrong. I confronted Charles this morning with what you told me.”

Jo sat up straight, her eyes wide. “Belinda, why would you do that? I thought we made it clear that we needed to keep this quiet. Don’t you realize you’ve jeopardized this whole investigation?”

Belinda’s face flushed crimson and she stared at her hands in her lap. “I know, I screwed up.” She looked up into Jo’s face once more, her eyes pleading for understanding. “But you’ve got to realize that I’ve worked for Charles for fifteen years. He gave me a job right out of college. I didn’t want to believe he was capable of doing this … doing this to
me.
”

Just then there was a loud crash from the other side of the house. Jo leaped up and shouted into the microphone, “Frisco! They know … we’ve been set up!” She yanked out her Glock from its hiding spot at the small of her back and raised it in front of her. Her eyes darted around, searching for any danger. John felt the panic radiate off of her.

The door leading to the kitchen flew open, banging into the wall behind it. Jo and John whirled around to face Charles Candleworth. Belinda yelled, “Charles! What are you doing? How did you get in here?”

“After our little chat, I decided it would be prudent to keep an eye on you and find out just what the good doctor has discovered. By the way, you are going to need a new lock on that back door.” Holding up a cell phone, he turned to Jo and said, “You just couldn’t stay out of my business, could you?” John inhaled sharply when he saw that Charles had a gun in his other hand and it was pointed directly at his heart.

Without taking his eyes off of his old classmate, John caught Jo’s movement out of the corner of his eye. She pointed her gun at Charles Candleworth’s head. Jo barked, “FBI! Put the gun down.”

It was at that moment that John realized that Jo’s voice was emitting from the phone Candleworth held in front of him. He felt nauseous as he realized that it was the detective’s phone.
Where’s Frisco?

NeuroDynamics’s CEO appeared unfazed. “I don’t think you want to be waving that pistol at me. You see, I don’t take kindly to threats.” Candleworth’s voice was calm and almost pleasant.
He’s enjoying this, the bastard.