CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It wasn't easy for Davidson to carry the rug-wrapped corpse down to his black Cadillac. A couple of times, the weight shifted and he struggled to stay on his feet. However, nobody paid any attention to him as he tottered across the pavement and dumped it into the trunk of his vehicle.
He sat behind the steering wheel and took some deep breaths while pondering recent events. The Freedom Alliance must already know about the Chancellor's plan to release a super-virus to wipe out all of the Outlaws, including them, but couldn't locate and destroy it. That was why the Alliance sent a team into the CDC building to destroy the seasonal flu vaccine that contained the super-virus antigens. If the vaccine was destroyed, the Chancellor would have had to wait several months, until a replacement batch of vaccine was manufactured, before he released the super-virus. In the meantime, the Alliance could step up its efforts to locate and destroy that virus.
However, due to Davidson's intervention, the flu vaccine was not destroyed and would be administered during Immunization Week, which started in a few days. That meant the Chancellor could release the super-virus in eight or nine days' time.
Davidson wanted to help the Freedom Alliance find and destroy the super-virus. But he had to get in touch with it first. How could he do that? The best avenue was Helen Watkins. He gave her a lot of rope after he discovered she worked for the Alliance. Time to give it a tug.
As he drove towards her apartment, he considered dumping the corpse somewhere along the way. However, if she doubted his sincerity, he would need to prove his bona fides. The corpse should give him plenty of credibility. Fortunately, it was a cool day.
Helen Watkins lived in Sector 11, one of the most up-market sectors of the City. Indeed, her ten-story apartment building had little weathering and few cracks.
Davidson parked against the curb and caught an elevator up to the seventh floor. After picking the cheap lock on her front door, he stepped inside. She lived in a neat and tidy two-bedroom apartment. Quilted cushions, durries and posters of Hollywood musicals gave it some warmth. There were also half-a-dozen photographs of a small boy on the side-board. Obviously her son, Felix, who died aged three from pneumonia.
Davidson wanted to know more about her. Did she have a boyfriend? What were her hobbies? Who did she contact in the Freedom Alliance? He searched through her cupboards, wardrobes, desk, dressing table, fridge and kitchen bin, looking for clues and found none. He even rummaged through her underwear drawer and noted the contents were fairly bland. It was as if, like any sensible traitor in Webster City, she expected her apartment would be searched.
The only item that raised his eyebrows was a birthday card left on the kitchen bench. He opened it. "Happy Birthday darling, love Eric. XXX"
Who was "Eric"? Her boss, Eric Tanguy? Davidson vaguely recalled that he wore a wedding ring. Maybe they were having an office romance.
He glanced at his watch. Almost three o'clock. Still several hours before she would return home from the CDC. A half-drunk bottle of Jack Daniel's Whiskey and a couple of shot glasses sat on the sideboard. The imitation "Jack Daniel's" made at the Webster City Distillery wasn't nearly as good as the real stuff made before the Great Plague. But he poured a glass anyway and sipped it while staring through the balcony glass door. The rooftops of the surrounding apartment buildings were full of rusting sheds and broken equipment that made them look like tiny shanty-towns. Most of the City was garbed in gray and brown, with only a touch of green.
The alcohol cut away some of his stress. He wondered who was involved in the conspiracy to release the super-virus. Obviously, the Chancellor was at the center of the web, and Professor Fisher and Doctor Carpenter were assisting him. Delray claimed Colonel Prentice dispatched him to kill Robert Meredith and then Fiona Clarkson. That suggested Prentice was also a conspirator. But, if Prentice ordered Delray to kill Meredith, why did Prentice ask Davidson to investigate that killing? That made no sense. So maybe Delray lied about Prentice ordering him to kill those two. It was hard to know.
He considered phoning his wife, Barbara, and telling her he knew she was cheating on him and never wanted to see her again. He could even mention that he'd just shot her lover dead. However, he killed that idea. He really didn't want to have any further contact with her. She could find out from a third party that he wasn't returning home and Delray was dead. It was also possible that his call would be traced back to this apartment.
After a couple of hours of pacing about, he used the remote control to turn on the television and watch the evening news. As usual, the "news" was just heavily censored propaganda. The first item was about an army attack on a Freedom Alliance base near Old Boston. The female announcer said it was a resounding success that left many enemies dead. The next item showed the Chancellor opening a new shopping mall in Sector 8. During the ceremony, he gave a long speech about the importance of hygiene and cleanliness which seemed to bore even him. The third item was about Immunization Week, due to start in a few days' time. A reporter interviewed Professor Fisher in his office. The Professor, wearing a white lab coat, said: "We've manufactured all of the vaccines we need for Immunization Week, including the new seasonal flu shot. I want to emphasize the importance of every citizen, particularly the young, getting their jabs. Don't give those nasty bugs a chance."
Davidson wasn't surprised that the news program didn't mention that Captain Delray was missing. It was highly unlikely that anyone at the ISB knew Delray had disappeared yet. And when someone did, that fact would not be broadcast on a television news program. In Webster City, real news never was.
The news program started its sports coverage and Davidson switched to a channel showing a movie about Alexander Webster. At least 20 bio-pics about him had been made in Webster City over the years. To Davidson's surprised, he hadn't seen this one. It had obviously just started, because Webster was still a teenager, playing with test-tubes in the garage of his family home, a brilliant biochemist in the making.
Davidson turned off the television and stood at the balcony glass door, sipping whiskey, while the falling sun dripped gold paint onto the rusted roof-top structures of surrounding buildings. Despite the danger he faced and the enormous stakes he was playing for, he felt oddly excited, even happy, because he had cut his bonds with the City, his job and his wife. His future might not be bright, but he would be free.
Just after seven o'clock, a key scraped in the lock of the front door. He slipped across the living room and stood in the corner. The door opened and feet - a woman's? - marched up the hallway.
Helen Watkins, wearing a padded jacket over her white uniform, stepped into the living room. No pistol in her holster. She must have left it at work.
He aimed his pistol at her. "Don't move a muscle."
She half-turned, goggle-eyed and started to scream.
"Shut up."
She went quiet and stared saucer-eyed at his pistol, body quivering. "Y-y-you - what are you doing here? Why are you pointing that at me?"
He showed a palm. "I want to chat. I won't harm you, I promise, if you keep quiet - but you've got to keep quiet." He waggled his pistol. "Can I put this away?"
Immediately after the shootout yesterday, she looked like she'd aged five years. Now she'd aged five more. A slow nod. "Y-y-es."
"Good." He holstered his pistol.
"W-why're you here? How did you get in?"
He tried to sound soothing. "I let myself in. It wasn't hard. Your lock's useless."
"W-why are you here?"
"It's simple: I want to get in contact with the Freedom Alliance."
She looked stunned. "What?"
"I want to get in touch with the Freedom Alliance."
She resumed trembling. "I-I don't know anything about the Alliance."
"Yes, you do. I know you're working for it. Yesterday morning, I saw you shoot the Freedom Alliance intruder. He didn't reach for a pistol. In fact, he begged you to kill him, so he wasn't captured and tortured. You obviously knew him
and he knew you. You gave the FA team their ID passes and swipe card, didn't you?"
Her eyes bubbled with fear. "Y-y-you're totally wrong."
"I'm not. But don't worry. I'm not here to arrest you. In fact, I've switched sides."
She looked even more stunned and deeply suspicious. "You've what?"
"Switched sides."
"Really? You shot three Freedom Alliance fighters yesterday morning."
"I know. But, when I did, I didn't know why they were attacking the CDC building."
"Why did they attack it?"
"Because the Chancellor is planning to release a super-virus that will kill all of the Outlaws."
Her eyes shimmered. "Who told you that?"
He described how he found an ampoule of the latest seasonal flu vaccine in Robert Meredith's fridge and showed it to Fiona Clarkson, who detected Ebola and smallpox antigens. "The Chancellor obviously intends to inoculate all citizens during Immunization Week and then release a super-virus. That's why the Freedom Alliance team attacked the CDC building: to destroy the vaccine and buy time to locate the super-virus."
Furrows rippled across her brow. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"When I was with Fiona Clarkson, someone turned up to murder her."
"My God, are you serious?"
"Yes. Captain Delray from the ISB. You met him yesterday morning."
"I remember him. What happened?"
"I shot him dead."
A vehement headshake. "I don't believe you."
He pulled out his car keys and proffered them. "My car's parked downstairs. If you look in the trunk you'll find his body in a rug."
She ignored the keys. "Jesus. He was your colleague."
"Actually, we were good friends, once. But I couldn't let him shoot Fiona and I won't stand idle while the Chancellor wipes out most of humanity. He got in the way and paid the price." He smiled. "I may be a bastard, but I'm not a fucking bastard."
She studied his face for a long time and half-sighed. "You want to contact the Freedom Alliance?"
"Yes."
"Why should I trust you?"
He held out his keys again and made them tinkle. "Look in the trunk. He's got three bullets in him."
She eyed the keys for a long time and grabbed them. "Alright. I'm going out for a stroll. While I'm gone, I'll have a look in the trunk. If you're telling the truth, I'll ask someone what to do. I'll be back in two or three hours. You wait here."
She disappeared out the door and he paced around, wondering whether she would return with a Freedom Alliance contact, his colleagues from the ISB or even a police unit. Or maybe she wouldn't return at all.
He poured himself another glass of whiskey and sipped it, careful not to drink too much. The whiskey made him hungry. He strolled into the kitchen, made a couple of ham and tomato sandwiches, and scoffed them down.
Almost three hours later, a key scraped in the door. He whipped out his pistol and retreated to the corner of the living room where he took up station before. Familiar sounding feet strode up the hallway.
She stepped into the living room, saw his pistol and jumped. "Shit."
He lowered the weapon. "Sorry."
She clutched her chest and emitted a deep sigh. "I can't get used to that."
"Nobody can. Did you talk to your contact?"
"Yes. We're to wait here until someone arrives."
"Who?"
"I wasn't told. I was just given a password."
"How do I know this isn't a trap?"
"I should ask you that question. In fact, give me your pistol."
"No."
She extended her hand and clicked her fingers. "Give it to me or nobody turns up. I don't want to end up like the guy in the trunk."
He hated giving up his pistol, but had to build trust. Anyway, he could probably over-power her and get it back, if necessary. He put on the safety-catch and offered it butt-first. "I'd like it back, in good condition, if you don't mind. I'm very attached to it."
She studied the Glock 17. "Is this an original?"
"Yes, made in Austria 320 years ago."
"Wow." She tossed him his car keys. "They're yours'."
He pocketed them. "Thanks. How long do we have to wait?"
"At least a couple of hours." She put his pistol in her jacket pocket.
He strolled around the living room and pointed at the Jack Daniel's. "Can I offer you a glass of your own whiskey?"
She smiled. "Sure."
He poured two glasses and handed one over.
They both took sips and he said: "Umm, I'm sorry about what happened yesterday - I really am."
She frowned. "You mean, you shooting the FA fighters or you forcing me to shoot one of them?"
"Both."
A flash of anger. "You should be sorry, so let's not talk about it."
"OK, OK."
"But you know your trade, don't you?"
"What trade?"
"Killing people."
A shrug. "I try to avoid it if I can."
"Really? People seem to get very unhealthy when you're around."
"That's not usually my fault." He studied the photographs of the little boy on the sideboard. "Your son?"
She frowned. "Yes."
"I looked in your ISB intelligence file. He died in Webster Central, right? You complained about his treatment." He didn't like intruding into her personal life, but wanted to know what made her tick.
She frowned. "I did. We took him to a hospital with pneumonia. Because he was vomiting, the doctors diagnosed a stomach complaint and didn't give him antibiotics until it was too late. They were hopeless; the whole place was a shambles. He would have survived if we were rich and powerful. So we complained to the Director of Health and the Medical Board and there was a big cover-up."
"Your marriage ended soon afterward?"
"Yes. Tony told me to stop causing trouble, because it would hurt his career. I kept pushing and he left me. There wasn't much left in our marriage anyway after Felix died."
"So you left the police force and started working at the CDC?"
"Yes. I didn't want to be around Tony anymore and needed a change."
"You also joined the Freedom Alliance. Was that because of what happened to Felix?"
After a long pause, she obviously decided the time for games was over. "Yes. I realized this City is corrupt to its core. I also noticed, for the first time, that everyone in power is a man. Women in this city are treated like dirt."
He smiled. "According to Alexander Webster, feminism was a cause of the Dark Years and the Great Plague."
She didn't smile back. "Webster was a fool. Anyway, I suspected some friends were FA sympathizers and hinted to them that I wanted to join up. They put me in touch with someone. You'd be surprised how many FA supporters there are in this City. Lots of people have stories like mine. If the FA launches a major attack, this place might fold like a paper bag."
"I know. Even ISB majors are turning traitor."
She smiled. "Exactly."
"In fact, that's why the Chancellor is going to release a super-virus - because he's losing his grip." He took a sip. "You didn't remarry, did you?"
"Of course not."
"No boyfriend?"
A smile. "No. It's hard to have a good relationship when you're a traitor. There are too many parts of your life you've got to keep secret."
He was tempted to ask who "Eric" was, but didn't want to reveal he'd been looking through her stuff. "Really? Sounds like a normal relationship to me."
She laughed and took a sip. "What about you? I see you've got a wedding ring."
A shrug. "Yes, I'm married - even got a piece of paper to prove it."
"It's not going well?"
"It's a disaster. We're not compatible. We want different things out of life. In fact, I've just discovered she was cheating on me."
"Really? With whom?"
"The guy in the trunk of my car."
A stifled laugh.
"You're kidding?"
"No."
"Is that why you shot him?"
"No. I only found out after I killed him and searched his body. He had something - a token - she must have given him."
"My God. You must be upset with her?"
A shrug. "Not really. I withdrew my emotional investment long ago. This makes it easier to call it quits."
"Does she know that you've gone rogue?"
"No, though I expect she'll find out fairly soon."
"But not from you?"
"I don't plan to see her again."
A heavy knock on the door.
Watkins looked at it, surprised. "The contact the FA is sending isn't supposed to be here for another hour, at least."
"Then you'd better find out who it is."
She yelled out. "Who's there?"
A drunken voice. "It's Eric, baby. I thought I'd drop past on the way home to give you a cuddle."
She looked at Davidson. "Jesus, it's Eric Tanguy."
"You're having an affair with him, aren't you?"
"How do you know?"
"I saw the birthday card."
"Shit."
"Get rid of him."
She yelled again. "Go home Eric, I'm ... umm ... going to bed."
A key scraped in the door and Davidson barely had time to jump into the bedroom before it swung open. He heard Tanguy stumble down the hall, slurring his words. "Why so unfriendly, Honey? I've had a terrible, terrible week. FA fighters shot up the laboratory and then everybody blamed me. Fucking unfair. Fisher wants to sack me, did you know that?"
"He said that?"
"No, but it's obvious."
"You're drunk. Go home to your wife."
"I want to stay here for a while. Don't throw me out. Come on, let's have a drink together."
"No, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow night. Definitely tomorrow night."
"Don't you love me no more?"
"Of course I do. But tonight's a bad night."
"Why? Have you got someone else here?"
He obviously wouldn't go. So Davidson stepped out of the bedroom. "Yes, I'm here, so go home."
Tanguy, dressed in a sports jacket and jeans, spun around and looked stunned. "What the fuck're you doing here?"
"I'm here to fix the television, you idiot."
Tanguy scowled at Watkins. "Oh, I see. You've decided to upgrade, huh? Found yourself a big hero - the man who won a medal."
"Go home."
For a few moments, Davidson thought he would have to kill Tanguy. However, Tanguy was sober enough to realize that tangling with an ISB officer was a very bad idea. A floppy nod towards Watkins. "OK, OK, I'm going. I'll leave you here with lover-boy. But I'll see you at work tomorrow, and I won't be happy."
"Sure."
She hustled Tanguy up the corridor and forced him out the door. Then she strolled back, looking embarrassed and annoyed.
He said: "I thought you didn't have a boyfriend?"
"I don't. He's married. I just sleep with him sometimes to keep him quiet and stop him getting suspicious. It makes my life easier."
"I understand."
She sighed. "It's not easy being a traitor: it's rough on your social life. Anyway, we've got a couple of hours to kill. What do you want to do?"
He was tempted to ask what jobs she had done for the Freedom Alliance. But she seemed to accept his bona fides. Why make her suspicious?
The second game of the World Series was being played that night. Watching baseball on television while a plot to kill a million people was whirring forward seemed rather odd. However, they couldn't do anything until the Freedom Alliance contact arrived. He said: "We could watch the second game of the World Series."
She smiled and shrugged. "Why not?"
They sat on the couch and she turned on the television with the remote. The teams had already played one innings. While they watched the second innings, she took some knitting out of a wicker basket and started purling.
He looked at her. "You like knitting?"
"I do it when I'm tense."
"Like now."
"You bet."
While they watched the baseball, he started to feel aroused. She was an attractive woman and the proximity of Armageddon boosted his desire. Too bad he couldn't do anything about it.
Despite his lust and the Chancellor's murderous plot, he was able to devote at least half of his brain to the game. It was in the ninth innings, with the Sector 2 Yankees well ahead, when they heard another loud knock on the door. They both jumped to their feet.
She dropped her knitting, turned off the television and took the Glock out of her pocket. Then she yelled: "Password?"
A male voice said: "Veni, vidi, vici."
When Davidson heard the password, he felt a stab of surprise and panic, before laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"I know who it is."
"Who?"
"Let him in."
She walked up the hallway and nervously opened the door to reveal, as Davidson expected, Colonel Prentice, looking resplendent in his black ISB uniform.
She gasped. "My God, Colonel. You work for the Alliance?"
A broad smile. "Good evening." He looked past her at Davidson. "Hello, Major. I was told I'd find you here."
Davidson smiled back. "Really? Who told you that?"
A casual wave of the hand. "Oh, a friend in the Freedom Alliance."
"That so? How long have you known your friend?"
A wry smile. "A few years now. I've never mentioned him to you, have I? Sorry about that - slipped my mind. I'll introduce you when I get a chance."
"I look forward to it."
Davidson realized that, on reflection, he wasn't surprised that Prentice was a traitor. Prentice might truly believe in the cause of the Freedom Alliance. But, even if he didn't, he would have turned traitor for the sheer thrill and challenge of working for both sides of the conflict. For him, the game was everything.
Davidson said: "You told me a few days ago that you were worried a mole in the ISB was blowing up operations. You were talking about yourself, weren't you?"
A chuckle. "Yes, though there could be another mole besides me."
"You mean, someone the Freedom Alliance hasn't told you about?"
"Of course. It doesn't tell me everything."
"So tell me, why did you switch sides?"
A dismissive wave. "I'll explain that when I get a chance. Right now, we must get down to business. I understand you found out about the super-virus the Chancellor is going to release."
"You know about that?"
"Of course. I've known about it for a couple of weeks. In fact, I told the Alliance about it. But I haven't been able to locate it. We've got to do that before the end of Immunization Week. After that, the Chancellor will release it."
"I know. How are we going to find it?"
"I don't know just yet. But before we start looking, I want to show you a place outside the City."
"How far outside?"
"About an hour from here, in Old Chicago."
"What's there? Why do you want to show it to me?"
"You'll see. Let's go in your car. I understand you've got Delray's corpse in the trunk. Congratulations on shooting him. I never liked the bastard. We can dispose of it on the way."
Helen Watkins said: "Do you want me to go with you?"
"Of course. You've got a big role to play."
Davidson looked at her. "Before we go, can I have my pistol back?"
Watkins looked inquiringly at Prentice, who nodded. "Give it to him."
"You sure?"
"Yes. If the Major wants to kill us, he won't need a pistol. You won't, will you Major?"
A modest shrug. "Probably not."
She shuddered and offered Davidson his Glock on her open palm. He holstered it.
Prentice said: "Have you got a pistol stashed away somewhere?"
"Yes."
"Get it."
She went into the bedroo
m and returned with a pistol in her holster. They caught the grinding elevator down to the ground floor and strolled out to Davidson's Cadillac, parked against the curb. Davidson sat behind the wheel with Prentice next to him and Watkins in the back.
Prentice said: "Head for the South Gate."
Davidson pulled away from the curb and drove along Jonas Salk Boulevard. The street lights in Webster City were notoriously weak. But a full moon covered the City in a veiled light.
Davidson said: "How did you find out about the Chancellor's plan to release a super-virus?"
A grin. "One reason I get the bureau to do a lot of phone tapping is to gather dirt on powerful people, in case I have to blackmail them. Anyway, I heard that Professor Fisher was selling official drugs on the black market and got our unit to monitor his calls. It intercepted a call from the Chancellor in which he talked about releasing a super-virus after vaccinating everybody in the City during Immunization Week. Unfortunately, he didn't mention where the super-virus is being kept."
"Why didn't the Chancellor include you in his conspiracy to release it?"
"He's obviously got doubts about me, which is a worrying sign. And let's face it, if you're going to murder a million people, you want to be 100 per cent sure that everyone on your team is committed to the cause."
"I guess so."
"Anyway, I told my contact in the Freedom Alliance what the Chancellor said on the phone. He panicked. So did everyone else in the FA. Then Robert Meredith plunged off the balcony of his apartment. I got suspicious because he was a biochemist at the CDC. Maybe his death had something to do with the plan to release the super-virus. So I ordered you to investigate."
"Why me?"
"You're my smartest officer. I also suspected that, when you found out about the plot to release the super-virus, you would turn traitor, as you've done."
"Why'd you think I would turn traitor?"
"Because I've suspected for a while that you weren't happy with the, umm, moral compromises you've had to make. I was also confident that you wouldn't let the Chancellor release a super-virus that would kill your brother, if he's still alive."
Prentice had never mentioned Ted before. Davidson felt a kick in the guts. "What are you talking about? My brother's dead?"
"Is he? He disappeared during an Air Cav raid on an Outlaw hamlet in Kansas. His body was never found. Maybe he was captured; maybe he deserted; maybe he's still out there. You just don't know, do you?"
"He's dead."
A shrug. "Maybe."
"But if you thought I would turn traitor, why the big game? You could have just told me about the super-virus instead of forcing me to investigate Robert Meredith's death."
"Yes, I could. But my life was on the line. I had to be 100 percent certain you would not betray me. So I wanted you to turn traitor under your own steam, as you've done, rather than have to recruit you, if that makes sense."
Davidson saw the fiendish logic behind the Colonel's plan. If only the light-weights in the ISB who thought the Colonel was a light-weight could hear him now.
Davidson said: "Did you know the Freedom Alliance was going to attack the CDC building to destroy the vaccine?"
A frown. "No. The Alliance doesn't tell me everything, understandably. I got a big surprise when I heard you thwarted the attack." A shrug. "But, even if the attack was successful, it would have only delayed the release of the super-virus for a few months, until a replacement batch of vaccine was manufactured. We'd still have had to find and destroy the super-virus. That issue won't go away. But tell me: did you discover why Robert Meredith plunged off his balcony?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Davidson explained how he learned, while talking to Fiona Clarkson, that Robert Meredith identified Ebola and smallpox antigens in the latest seasonal flu vaccine. "Meredith mentioned the antigens to Doctor Carpenter, who must have told the Chancellor, or someone working for him, what Meredith discovered. Then Delray was dispatched to throw Meredith off his balcony."
"That all makes sense. Then, this afternoon, Delray tried to kill Fiona Clarkson, right, and you shot him?"
"Correct. But, before I did, he claimed you sent him."
"He was lying, of course. I've known for a long time that he was really a Palace Guard officer planted in the ISB to spy on me. His loyalty was to the Chancellor and Mellon. They obviously sent him to murder Meredith and Clarkson."
Davidson remembered seeing Delray chat with the Commander of the Palace Guard, Edward Mellon, after the medal ceremony. Prentice was obviously right.
Davidson said: "Which means they are wondering, right now, what happened to Captain Handsome."
Prentice nodded. "They surely are."