Evil Genius
Cadel grunted. He knew perfectly well why Thaddeus had been delayed, and didn’t want to think about it. Nevertheless, he had to. Upon reaching the psychologist’s office, he sat himself down in front of the computer. Thaddeus’s email files weren’t hard to penetrate; Cadel soon found an encrypted one from the Fuhrer, which he decoded immediately.
URGENT!! it read. New evidence regarding conspiracy discussed! Please contact me at earliest opportunity! Double-red status on Deal, Terry, Lasco. Please authorise campus-wide yellow alert URGENTLY. Will explain.
A double-red status on Dr Deal undoubtedly meant that the Fuhrer had not only listened to Cadel’s recording of Terry’s phone message to Luther, but had scanned the envelope in which it had been delivered. Fingerprints had been found, and had matched Dr Deal’s prints, which were kept on the Fuhrer’s computer files. These files contained the prints of every person who had anything to do with the Axis Institute.
They were required for safety reasons.
Please authorise campus-wide yellow alert. Clearly, the meeting between Thaddeus and Adolf hadn’t resulted in anything concrete. Perhaps Thaddeus had told Adolf that he would ‘think about’ the request for a yellow alert. Cadel wondered how thinly the Fuhrer was willing to stretch his little army of Grunts. With Luther, Terry, Tracey and Dr Deal all being followed, there wouldn’t be many Grunts left to man Yarramundi. Or to keep an eye on Cadel, for that matter.
Unless Thaddeus had access to another troupe of surveillance specialists? That Cadel didn’t know about?
‘Cadel.’
It was Thaddeus. Like a cat, he had mounted the stairs and entered the room without making a sound. Cadel jumped.
‘Well, well. What are you up to?’ Thaddeus drawled. ‘Sneaking into my emails, again?’ He clicked his tongue. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, Cadel?’
Cadel had often used Thaddeus’s computer, but had never jumped like a frightened rabbit before. He decided to brazen it out. ‘It’s not my fault,’ he whined. ‘You have such obvious passwords.’
‘Get off,’ said Thaddeus, lightly slapping Cadel’s hand. He clearly wasn’t concerned. But when Cadel asked him how Brendan was, he frowned, and looked suddenly tired.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It’s like some sort of catatonia. Terry thinks it might be epilepsy, but I have my doubts. You look at Brendan . . .’ Thaddeus sighed and shook his head. ‘He seems to be completely focused on something. It’s bizarre. He hardly even responds to a steel ruler across the knuckles.’
Cadel winced.
‘Terry shot him full of drugs and all he did was start shaking,’ Thaddeus continued. ‘We’ll have to get a doctor in – someone we can trust. To do all the blood tests and so forth. Terry’s ruled out the more common poisons. At the moment, Brendan’s under observation in the labs, but I’m convinced it’s more psychological than physical. A “locked-in” syndrome. Something autistic, perhaps?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not having much luck with my staff, lately. First Carla, now Brendan. I only hope the two incidents aren’t connected.’
Cadel cleared his throat.
‘I don’t see how they can be. Doris poisoned Carla and Doris has been gone for ages.’
‘Mmmmph.’
All at once the phone rang. Thaddeus’s dark brows came together; he picked up the receiver impatiently.
‘What is it?’ he snapped. ‘I told you not to put through calls when – who? Oh, for God’s sake. Urgent my arse. Yes, yes, put him through.’ Thaddeus rolled his eyes at Cadel. ‘I’m sorry about this, dear boy – it’s Adolf on a rampage.’ He proceeded to address the telephone receiver. ‘Yes? What? No, I haven’t checked my email, I’ve been dealing with a medical emergency.’ There followed a long pause as Thaddeus listened to the yammering voice at the other end of the line. ‘I see,’ he said at last, thoughtfully. ‘Well I have to admit, that is interesting. Right. Right. Yes, but if the prints are only on the envelope, how can you be sure . . . ? Yes, I know Tracey was there. Yes, I realise she’s involved with Barry, and she could have left the envelope, but she’s involved with Terry too, so why should she be snitching on him? Oh, you think so? That’s a very romantic explanation, Adolf, I didn’t know you had it in you. Love triangle, eh? Barry and Tracey against Terry?’ Thaddeus winked at Cadel as he continued to talk to the Fuhrer.
‘Yes, well, I do see your point, though you have to understand that Axis staff aren’t ordinary people,’ he continued. ‘You can’t expect them to behave themselves all the time. What? Oh, I see. So the cameras went off, did they? That is odd. Yes, you might want to follow that up, though it could have been a coincidence. You think so? Really? Well, I don’t know, Adolf, it’s a bit farfetched. Vee and Barry can’t stand each other, you do realise that, don’t you? They wouldn’t be caught dead in the same conspiracy. Especially when it has something to do with Tracey’s love life. What?’ Thaddeus rolled his eyes again. ‘No, I realise that. Of course. Yes, all right, that’s a good idea. You do that. And you might look into this business with Brendan, while you’re at it . . . hmmm? You haven’t heard? Really? Well, then, I suggest you talk to Terry about it. See where you think it might fit into this big picture of yours. Then talk to me afterwards – I’m rather busy right now.’
Clunk! Thaddeus hung up. Cadel, who knew exactly what this phone call had been about, tried to look curious. All the while, he was thinking hard. So Adolf believed that Tracey had delivered the envelope. That was good. Adolf knew, of course, that Tracey was involved with Dr Deal. He must have decided that Dr Deal was jealous of Terry, who was also Tracey’s boyfriend. Therefore, in Adolf’s opinion, Dr Deal must have recorded the suspicious communication between Terry and Luther. He must also have asked Tracey to drop it off. But why should Tracey want to dob in Terry? Cadel couldn’t imagine what Adolf’s explanation for that might be, though it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that no one suspected Gazo.
Unfortunately, Adolf did suspect Dr Vee. He seemed to be suggesting that Dr Vee had disabled the cameras. So why hadn’t he promoted Dr Vee to double-red status? Because the Virus might find out that he was under suspicion? Perhaps. Even Adolf had to realise that if the Virus had disabled the cameras, he might be plugged into Adolf’s security files as well.
It was a shame about the Virus, but Cadel wasn’t too worried. If there was one person who could look after himself, it was Dr Vee. The trouble was, if Adolf started to investigate the Virus, and discovered the spy sweep, then Dr Vee would almost certainly try to find out who had been infiltrating his computer program. And then?
I’ll have to be gone before then, thought Cadel.
‘Cadel?’ said Thaddeus. ‘Earth to Cadel!’
‘Oh!’ Cadel blinked. ‘Sorry. I was just thinking . . .’
‘We’ve missed the scheduled hook-up time for your father’s transmission,’ Thaddeus observed, checking his watch. ‘I don’t know if he’ll still be there, but we can try. They’re timing him with a stopwatch these days.’
‘Thaddeus?’
‘Yes?’ The psychologist was already lifting up one corner of the carpet to expose the hatch that concealed all his cables, amplifier components and other vital equipment. ‘Can you help me with this, please, Cadel? Or we’re going to miss our transmission window.’
‘Do you think Brendan’s going to be all right?’ Cadel asked, rising and joining the psychologist. ‘I mean, does Terry know if he’s going to snap out of it?’
Thaddeus paused. He looked at Cadel quizzically, a smile touching one corner of his mouth.
‘Your concern for Brendan is really touching,’ he drawled. ‘I know how much you must have regretted missing your Embezzlement class today.’
‘I –’
‘Tell me, Cadel.’ The black eyes narrowed, though the smile remained. ‘You didn’t have anything to do with Brendan’s little problem, did you?’
The attack was too sudden. Though Cadel cried ‘No!’, there must have been a false note somewhere in his reply.
The amused expression disappeared from Thaddeus’s face. In the silence that followed, Cadel frantically reviewed his options. Could he? Should he?
‘I didn’t – I mean, how could I?’ he said faintly. ‘I don’t know anything about poisons. Or Contagion. It’s not my field – you know that.’
Thaddeus waited.
‘I don’t know what happened to him,’ Cadel insisted. ‘Honestly. I mean, I can’t be sure . . . it’s too weird . . .’
Thaddeus blinked slowly, almost lazily, and Cadel felt his defences giving way. It didn’t matter, though. Not really. Not if his confession was incomplete.
‘Brendan was marking my homework,’ Cadel admitted. ‘I saw it in front of him –’
‘Your homework?’
‘I took it away. I’m sorry. I thought – I didn’t want – I was afraid it might be the reason for what happened.’ Cadel didn’t have to fake the anxiety in his tone. He began to move his hands about, not knowing what to do with them. ‘It probably didn’t,’ he continued. ‘I was probably being stupid, but I . . . I didn’t want to get involved.’
‘Very admirable,’ said Thaddeus, dryly. ‘And may I ask what the homework was?’
‘A money-laundering tree.’
‘Ah.’ Though the psychologist’s expression didn’t change, Cadel sensed an easing of some hidden tension. ‘Well,’ said Thaddeus, ‘your misgivings are understandable, but I wouldn’t worry. I don’t believe that a money-laundering tree, no matter how complex, could lead to an electrical short-circuit of the brain. Where is this tree, anyway?’
‘I – I destroyed it.’
‘Ah.’
‘In case . . . well, you know.’
‘In case it implicated you?’
‘In case it had the same effect on anyone else,’ Cadel replied, before realising that this was an ill-judged remark. Why should he care what happened to anyone else? He was a student of the Axis Institute.
‘A wise precaution.’ Thaddeus drawled again. ‘Perhaps, though, you should have considered its possible uses. If your homework was really that deadly, why not test it out on that Brezeck woman? Putting her in a catatonic state would save you an awful lot of trouble.’
There was a hint of reproach in this last observation. Cadel wondered if Thaddeus was referring, in a roundabout way, to the fact that Mrs Brezeck still hadn’t been ‘dealt with’.
‘I’m getting there,’ Cadel assured him. ‘I know what I’m doing. I’ve got access to her mail.’
‘Good.’
‘It’s the homework. It gets in my way. If I didn’t have so much homework . . .’
‘Yes, of course. The homework.’ Although Thaddeus nodded sympathetically, there was a glint in his eye. ‘Never mind, Cadel. If that money-laundering tree is anything to go by, you won’t be given homework for much longer. No one will dare give it to you, for fear of what it will do to them.’
‘Oh.’ Cadel was confused. Was Thaddeus joking, or . . . ? ‘But you just said it probably wasn’t my fault. That we couldn’t be certain –’
‘Cadel, Cadel.’ Thaddeus squeezed his shoulder. ‘What are you fretting about? I’d be pleased as punch if you had blown Brendan’s mind – even more pleased if you had done it on purpose. Why all this soul-searching and double-talk? Surely your conscience isn’t troubling you? Or were you afraid that I’d be disappointed?’
‘Well, yes,’ said Cadel. ‘You hate it when I miss Embezzlement.’
‘Oh come now, give me some credit. You think I can’t find another embezzler to take Brendan’s place? I could find ten of ’em in a week. Don’t trouble yourself with my concerns. You concentrate on your own.’
‘But –’
‘Come on, Cadel. We’ve more important things to do. Your father might be waiting.’
Silently, Cadel began to help Thaddeus erect the transmitter. He was feeling distinctly odd: a bit sweaty, a bit shaky, a bit lightheaded. He felt the way he had several years before, when a motorbike had almost knocked him down.
It occurred to him that he’d just had another narrow escape.
FORTY-THREE
That night in bed, Cadel lay thinking about Sonja and her mysterious conundrum. It was hard to believe that the wretched thing had crippled Brendan’s powers of reason. After all, it hadn’t had the same effect on Sonja. And Sonja was rather like Brendan. Both were obsessed with maths. Both had certain weaknesses, though Sonja’s was a weakness of the body rather than the mind. Both were to some degree cut off from the world. Why would Brendan have crumbled when Sonja hadn’t?
Perhaps because Brendan’s strange condition had nothing to do with any brain-teaser?
Cadel wished that he could talk to Sonja about it, but he couldn’t. He didn’t dare. He couldn’t risk even thanking her until he had made his escape and they were both beyond the reach of Thaddeus Roth and his minions. Cadel could not be sure how long that would be. A week, perhaps? Certainly no longer. If Thaddeus hadn’t uncovered his plan by then, the Virus would have.
The next morning, Cadel headed straight for the Axis Institute. He reached Hardware Heaven at around eight o’clock, only to find Dr Vee installed there. The Virus was in a grumpy mood; he had a streaming cold and a touch of asthma, and didn’t even look up when Cadel entered.
Cadel wondered, with a sinking heart, how long he would have to wait. He couldn’t check the network while Dr Vee was around. Yet he had to, as soon as possible. There was no telling what might have happened since the previous afternoon.
‘What’s this?’ he asked, upon reaching his computer. There was a sealed envelope propped against the keyboard.
Sealed envelopes could be dangerous things, at the Axis Institute. Cadel didn’t even want to touch this one before he found out where it had come from.
‘Vee?’ he said. ‘Do you know what this letter is?’
The Virus made an impatient noise. He rubbed his red, bleary eyes and said: ‘The spaceman left it.’
‘Gazo?’
‘He was in here this morning. Now shut up, for God’s sake, my head’s killing me.’
Obediently, Cadel fell silent. He opened the envelope and found a sheet of blue cardboard tucked inside, with the word Done written on it.
Cadel replaced the card quickly and stuffed the envelope into his pocket. He realised that he should have told Gazo not to communicate with him. Not like this, anyway. It had been a stupid oversight. Sloppy planning.
He collapsed onto his chair with a sigh.
Though anxious to read the Fuhrer’s latest surveillance reports, he couldn’t go near them until the Virus had left. All he could do was check the state of Max’s bank accounts – something that didn’t require direct access to the Maestro’s own files but which could be done through the bank, instead. To Cadel’s astonishment, all the accounts were empty: Art had drained them dry. Cadel couldn’t believe it. A single day and the money was gone! That was faster than he had ever expected.
He wondered if Max had been alerted yet. Almost certainly, to judge from his past behaviour. Max tended to check on his money every six hours or so.
Cadel was working his way towards confirming this when a voice said: ‘Ah! You are here.’
It was Dr Deal. He stood in the doorway, dressed with his usual flair but looking somewhat flustered, all the same.
He was staring straight at Cadel.
‘Who – me?’ said Cadel.
‘I want a word with you.’
‘Now?’
‘Come here.’
Reluctantly, Cadel rose. He glanced at Dr Vee: would the Virus raise an alarm if Cadel didn’t return within half an hour? But Cadel need not have worried. Though Dr Deal drew him out of Hardware Heaven, they went no further than the lifts before stopping to talk.
‘Have you told anyone?’ Dr Deal murmured.
‘About –’
‘The incident,’ Dr Deal hissed. ‘You know! In the men’s room!’
‘Oh.’ Cadel shook his head. ‘No.’
‘A
re you sure?’
‘Yes.’
Breathing heavily, Dr Deal squeezed Cadel’s shoulder.
‘I’m not angry, Cadel. I just want to know. If you have, it would explain something.’
‘What?’
‘Never you mind. Just tell me the truth.’
‘I did,’ Cadel insisted, wriggling out of the lawyer’s grip. ‘I’ve been keeping you in reserve, in case I need something.’
‘So you haven’t told Thaddeus?’
‘No.’
‘Or Luther Lasco?’
‘No.’ Cadel realised, suddenly, that he was being unwise. ‘But I’ve written it all down,’ he said. ‘In case anything ever happens to me.’
If Dr Deal heard this last remark, it didn’t seem to register. He stared hard at Cadel, then stared through him, as if thinking about something else.
‘In that case, what the hell is going on?’ he muttered. The question wasn’t addressed to Cadel. Dr Deal suddenly turned on his heel to face the lifts, and punched the ‘down’ button. He was looking more flustered than ever.
‘What’s wrong?’ Cadel asked, with all the innocence that he could muster. In fact, he knew what was wrong. Dr Deal had probably realised that he was being followed, or that his house had been searched. Something, at any rate, had alarmed him.
‘Dr Deal?’ he said, having received no reply. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Nothing,’ the lawyer snapped, just as a chiming noise announced the arrival of one of the lifts. Cadel watched Dr Deal step into it. When the doors had closed, Cadel raised his eyes to the illuminated panel above them.
Dr Deal was getting out on the ground floor.
Cadel rushed down the fire stairs in pursuit. He wanted to see where the lawyer was going, and couldn’t rely on surveillance reports. Not yet. Not while Dr Vee was still in Hardware Heaven.
Upon reaching the ground floor, he was very careful. Through a window in the door that separated the fire stairs from the foyer, he scanned the lifts and their surroundings before he dared even to show his face. There was no one in sight. But when Cadel pushed open the door, he immediately heard voices. Raised voices.