The Adamas Blueprint (23 page)

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“No. I haven’t done this before, but I’m not stupid. It has to be someplace public.”

A second’s pause. “All right. Where?”

Erica had lived in Washington during a summer job after her sophomore year in college. She worked downtown, but hadn’t had a car at the time. Instead, she avoided the traffic and the crush of the Metro by biking in each day from her apartment in Arlington, Virginia through the Mall.

On her route she had crossed one of the busiest bridges in the Washington area, the Arlington Memorial Bridge, directly across from the Lincoln Memorial. It was almost always busy, especially during rush hour, and the moment she thought of the bridge, she got the inkling of a plan.

“The middle of the Arlington Memorial Bridge, north side. The only ones I want to see there are Kevin and the two I’ve already met. If I see an army of guys out there, I’ll leave and send a copy of Adamas to every newspaper in the country.”

Another pause, probably to discuss the risks of the location. “All right, Erica. The Arlington Memorial bridge tomorrow at noon.”

“It has to be Monday morning,” she said, trying to stall for time.

“Monday? Schedule is important to me, Erica.” Her nerves grated every time the Texan said her name.

“If you want the notebook, you’ll have to wait.” She looked at the backpack with the notebook in it. “I can’t get to where it’s hidden until tomorrow night.”

A sigh. “Seven AM Monday morning. Oh, and there’s something else I want you to bring. A particular videotape that you found. You’ll have access to that as well, I assume?”

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“Yes,” Erica said, reluctantly. Although it didn’t show much, it
was
a link between Kevin and the Adamas process.

“Good. I can’t afford for you to miss this appointment, Erica. If you’re not there, they will never find Kevin’s body. If you don’t have the notebook and the videotape, they will never find Kevin’s body. If you bring the police, yada yada yada. Get it?”

“I get it.”

“I’m glad we got to talk finally. I’m sure you’re just as smart as you are pretty. Don’t make an error in judgment like Michael Ward did.” Then the phone went dead.

She turned it off and dropped it on the seat in revulsion, realizing the Texan had gotten pictures of her from somewhere. There wasn’t time to stew on that. She started the truck, pulled down on the stalk shifter, and floored the gas. She had to get to Washington and see whether her plan might actually work.

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CHAPTER 32

“Hey! Hey out there! Franco!” Kevin continued to pound on the bedroom door. “I have a problem in here.”

Kevin stepped back as the door swung inward. Franco, still dressed in his Italian-style gray suit, stepped through.

“I told you dinner wasn’t for another hour.”

“I know,” Kevin said, “but there’s a problem with the bathroom. I think the toilet’s broken.”

Franco came farther into the mansion’s bedroom and closed and locked the door behind him, putting the deadbolt key in his pocket. The room was sparsely furnished with a bed, a nightstand and lamp, a small writing desk, and a cane-backed chair. All decorations had been removed from the room just before his arrival. Darker areas were visible where pictures used to hang. Kevin had tried opening the window earlier, but it was nailed shut. If he broke it and attempted to jump the twenty feet to the ground, the guard posted outside his door would be alerted and capture him before he could climb through. Besides, he had no doubt it was hooked up to the alarm system.

A tiny bathroom with a glass-enclosed shower, a sink, and a toilet was separated from the MORRISON/THE ADAMAS BLUEPRINT

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bedroom by a louvered door. As with the bedroom, all of its contents had been removed except for a hand towel.

“Did you take a dump in it?” Franco asked, walking toward the bathroom but never taking his eyes off Kevin.

“No, I just took a piss, and then it started to overflow after I flushed it.”

“Sit down in that chair while I take a look. And I don’t want to see you get up.” Kevin did as he was told. Franco went into the bathroom.

Kevin was somewhat surprised at how good he was at lying, considering he almost never did it. The toilet was stopped up, but Kevin knew exactly why. He had torn a piece of the sheet from the bottom of his bed and stuffed the wad into the toilet so that it couldn’t be seen. Only a plumber’s tool would be able to get at it, and he didn’t know of many plumbers that worked on Saturday nights or Sundays. Of course, if they thought it was an emergency, they could get someone, but Kevin thought they wouldn’t for a problem this minor. All he was hoping was that they would let him use another bathroom.

Franco came out of the bathroom after a minute.

“What’s the problem?” Kevin said.

“Do I look like a fucking plumber? How the hell should I know?”

“What am I supposed to do? I can’t use that toilet. It’s filled to the top with water. If I try to flush it, it’s going to flood the whole room.”

“I thought you college guys were smart. You said you just went. If you have to go, don’t flush. Now don’t bother me again.”

The door slammed shut. Kevin could only wait in the barren room, helpless.

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* * *

Two hours later, dinner still hadn’t come. Kevin was famished; his lunch was still lying in the Virginia Tech commuter lot. He lay in the bed on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling in the dwindling twilight coming through the window. The events of the last week weighed heavily on him. He’d never experienced so much death and destruction. In fact, the only close person he’d lost up to this point had been his mother.

Now he was just like Erica. No parents. No family.

During the drive to Virginia and the subsequent race to get the experiment completed, he’d thought little about his father. When he did, it was only for seconds at a time. Now that his own death was imminent, he had plenty of time to think about his father’s. He didn’t cry, but he felt an emptiness, a loneliness he didn’t expect. Although he hadn’t been to church in years, he thought about heaven and wondered if his mother and father were there, together. Despite everything his father had done, he hoped so. He surprised himself by soundlessly mouthing a prayer.

Before he could finish, the door swung open. Kevin sat up.

A tray came through, held by Franco. Following him was David Lobec.

“I understand from Mr. Francowiak that you have had some plumbing problems.”

Franco placed the tray on the desk. The only things on it were a paper plate holding a sandwich and potato chips and a paper cup turned upside down.

“Boy, you guys are really going all out,” Kevin said, pointing at the meager meal. “You’re just trying to butter me up, right? I mean, before you offer me $10 million instead of $5 million.”

“You are quite an amusing young man, Mr. Hamilton,” Lobec said. “I am sorry that we haven’t been able to provide more luxurious accommodations, but I am sure you understand our MORRISON/THE ADAMAS BLUEPRINT

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position. It wouldn’t do to have you escape before we have the Adamas notebook in our possession. This is obviously the most secure room in the house. Nevertheless, someone will be outside the room at all times.”

“You could have at least given me a working toilet.”

“Yes, you’re correct. I have decided to let Mr. Francowiak and his replacements take you to another bathroom down the hall. I have instructed him to let you use it only if you behave. If you attempt to escape or cause any mischief, he will tie you to the bed for the rest of your stay. Is that clear?”

“If I’m good, do I get a lollipop?”

Lobec came to within a foot of Kevin. “Do you realize, Mr. Hamilton, that if Miss Jensen does not meet us at the Arlington Bridge on Monday, you will die?”

“You’re going to kill me anyway, along with Erica if she’s there. In fact, the only way I’ll live is if she doesn’t show up. Then you need me.”

“You can believe what you want, Mr. Hamilton, but I can assure you that no one wants this situation peacefully resolved more than I. Now, I have some business to attend to out of town. I will be back Monday morning to escort you to the rendezvous.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Enjoy your meal. Mr. Francowiak will escort you to the bathroom when you are finished.”

As he flashed a last corrupt smile at Kevin, Lobec followed Franco out the door, leaving Kevin wondering if he had a chance in hell of getting out of this.

* * *

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At first apprehensive that the sandwich contained poison, Kevin quickly dismissed the idea as ludicrous. If they wanted to kill him, it would have happened hours ago, probably under torture.

Tarnwell had asked him several questions about Adamas, but he obviously believed that the process was useless while the original notebook was still out there. And even with his memory, Kevin wouldn’t be able to accurately reproduce the entire experiment anyway.

He wolfed down the sandwich and potato chips and washed them down with several cupfuls of water from the sink. Somewhat invigorated from the food, he prepared himself for a task that in any ordinary setting would have been distasteful. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the luxury of maintaining his civility.

With the water running to mask the sound, he urinated into the sink.

After he was finished, he knocked on the door.

“Hey, Franco, I’m through with dinner.”

The door opened. “Stand over there,” said Franco, pointing to the chair that was now by the window. Kevin did as he was told, and Franco took the tray into the hall.

He came back in and said, “You need to hit the can before you go to sleep?”

“Yeah.”

Franco drew a Beretta automatic and waved it toward the hallway. “Come on.”

Kevin, with Franco and the gun at his back, walked down the hall he had come through earlier. A Persian runner stretched down the middle of the hallway and polished oak flanked it to either side. Antique tables lined the hall at regular intervals, and fine tapestries hung where mirrors were absent. Intricate wainscotting ran the length of the hall. In all, Kevin supposed the MORRISON/THE ADAMAS BLUEPRINT

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effect was to be one of lavish opulence, but he found it overdone, as if someone had given an unlimited budget to a fledgling interior decorator.

The mansion was large enough so that the hall formed a complete circuit joined by the large staircase at the back of the house. A balcony overlooked the balustrade but ended about halfway around the circuit, giving way to several rooms. From his first walk to his room at the front of the house, Kevin had seen only one other room with its door open, and that had been a bedroom.

“Here,” Franco said when they had walked about fifty feet down the hallway. Kevin turned and saw him pointing at a door on the interior of the mansion, obviously chosen because it had no windows.

Kevin opened it to find a bathroom to equal the unbridled opulence of the hallway. Marble floors, brass fixtures, beveled mirrors, all shined and polished to perfection. He flicked the light switch and track lighting came on accompanied by a soft fan.

Franco shoved him into the spacious bathroom. “Go ahead.”

The door was still wide open, and Kevin began to shut it. Franco pushed it back, almost slamming into the wall.

“Uh-uh.”

Kevin was afraid that he wouldn’t get the privacy he needed, but he tried to appear angry.

“Can’t I take a shit in peace? Where the hell am I going to go?”

Franco thought about it for a second, appraised the room’s dimensions, and then relented, releasing the door. “Okay, but I don’t want to hear that lock click. We got the key downstairs, so don’t bother.”

“Thank you,” said Kevin and closed the door.

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Having taken care of his physical hygiene back in the other bathroom, he started to quietly search the cupboards for anything that might be of use to him, hoping that they hadn’t cleaned this bathroom out as well as the one in his room. The cabinet under the sink was bare, as were the six drawers to either side. He was careful not to bang the cabinet or drawers for fear of alerting Franco to what he was really doing. It was almost two minutes before he got to the cabinet behind the mirror. Still nothing. Kevin looked around the large bathroom, about to give up on finding anything, when he saw a linen closet which doubled as a stand up mirror.

The closet had no handle, and the edge cutout to open it had been so ingeniously integrated into the mirror’s design that he almost hadn’t noticed the door. He tiptoed over to it and held his breath as he opened it.

Six evenly-spaced shelves went from top to bottom, and immediately Kevin could see the bare white space. His hope faded, but he decided to look more thoroughly anyway in case something small had been missed. He began on the bottom shelf and made his way up.

The first five shelves were empty, and it appeared that the top one, which lay about two inches above his eye level, was as well. He stood on his toes to reach to the back. Kevin caught a glimpse of color toward the back of the shelf.

He strained as much as he could to see to the back, and he became excited when he saw a number of bottles and cans shoved together. He couldn’t be sure from this angle, but he thought one said ammonia and another that could have been a blue and white bottle of Clorox bleach.

Whoever had emptied out the bathroom must have been shorter than Kevin. From a lower angle, the person would never have been able to see the cleaning fluids bunched on the top shelf.

It was exactly what Kevin had been hoping for.

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He reached his hand to the back and the tips of his fingers brushed against one of the cans.

He felt it nudge and gasped involuntarily when he realized it was about to fall. The noise would surely raise suspicions outside. He strained even harder until it felt as if his arm would come out of the socket and was able to steady the can.

He looked at his watch. He’d been in the bathroom five minutes now. Any longer and Franco might barge in on him without knocking. He didn’t have time to inventory what was up there. It would have to wait for the next visit.

Kevin silently closed the closet door, then walked heel-to-toe over to the toilet and flushed it.

After washing his hands and toweling off, he opened the door. Franco stood on the other side of the hallway with his gun drawn.

“I guess this one worked,” he said.

Kevin nodded, stepping into the hall. “I like this bathroom a lot better.”

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