Murder at Naughton Pharms

CHAPTER 13 - FINALE

  Kelly and Jessica stood in the back of the laboratory chamber, Kelly with an arm around Jessica's shoulders, her with an arm around his waist. There was no furniture. Steel framing held the inch-thick acrylic walls.

  "Bullet resistant," said Naughton, tapping the glass with his pistol. "Quite escape-proof. So, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't scratch it up by trying." He turned back to Ivers, handing him Kelly's keys. "They probably parked out on the road. Get that car out of sight. Take the two-way."

  Naughton took the shotgun from Ivers and passed him a hand-held radio unit. Ivers fetched a raincoat from a cabinet and left the lab. Naughton set the shotgun in the corner by the cabinet and put the pistol back in the desk drawer. He pulled an office chair from one of the work stations and rolled it over by the chamber where Kelly and Jessica were imprisoned. The adjacent chamber held the monkey. In the far chamber, the man brought in earlier remained unconscious.

  "We almost didn't discover your presence," said Naughton. "After noticing the light in the mechanical room, we checked the security camera to see who might have entered after I left, but of course you weren't there. I thought perhaps I was mistaken about the light. Fortunately, we checked earlier images, and there you were – entering the barn before I left. Even more interesting, there were no pictures of you leaving. Where did you hide?"

  Neither of them answered, but Naughton picked up on Jessica's involuntary glance toward the freezer.

  "Ah. The freezer. So, you had better tell me; what are you doing here?"

  "I told you," said Kelly. "We were looking for help. Our car wouldn't start."

  "Well, having looked though your billfolds and phones, I find it too coincidental that that you both happen to work at my former company. So, you can stop with that nonsense about the car."

  "Your assistant will find out we're telling the truth. It won't start."

  Naughton dismissed Kelly's protest with a wave of his hand. "Let's discuss something more interesting. Did you come to kill me? Are you behind the mysterious murderers at my former company?"

  "What? No, of course not."

  "No shock weapon hidden about? No roll of duct tape? No bottle of pills to fill my throat?"

  Kelly shook his head. "We're not here to harm anyone."

  "I guess you do seem unlikely – a young man, an attractive young lady. Unless you're the next Charlie Manson. Are you? Have you drawn this young woman into your cult?"

  "If anyone here is behind the murders, it's you," said Kelly.

  "Oh, not that again." Naughton waved his hands in exasperation. "What makes people think that?"

  "You could be angry over the role they played in ousting you. You might be wanting the company back and want to disrupt takeover plans by someone else. Or maybe they found out what you're doing here, and you had to shut them up."

  Naughton scoffed. "What an imagination. Delightfully feasible, I suppose, but nonsense." His brow wrinkled. "Is that why you're here? Amateur sleuthing? The search history on your browser does suggest an interest in law enforcement."

  Kelly said nothing as Naughton mulled over the idea.

  "I believe that must be the explanation," continued Naughton. "You hatch this idea about me and imagine yourself solving the crime. How cute. But your theories are groundless. First of all, I don't want the company back. There's no future in that company." He smiled. "Or in any other company for that matter. And while I harbor no kind regard for those who participated in my termination, neither am I interested in revenge. Their passings please me, but only because there are three fewer humans to clutter up the planet. And finally, the only person who knows what I'm doing, or even knows there's a lab here, is my assistant, Richard."

  "Why are you hiding it? Is this some secret government thing?"

  Naughton chuckled. "Hardly." He leaned back, looking around the room. "Nice little lab, don't you think? It's not quite up to proper BSL-3 standards. Should even be level four, I suppose, but that's such a bother. And given my intensions, well, it really doesn't matter." He crossed his legs and pawed his goatee. "I guess I don't mind telling you. You'll be the first to hear of it – aside from Richard. One does like to share his accomplishments. And while I do plan on sharing it with the world, it's not the sort of thing I'll be disclosing in scholarly journals." He laughed, clapping his hands together. "Actually, my purpose is nothing less than to heal the planet." He let the words sink in. "Heal the planet," he repeated.

  "Cool," said Kelly, trying to sound sincere. The stories of Naughton being nutty were beginning to look spot-on.

  "Consider this. The world population has grown from two billion to seven billion in less than 100 years. Humans are out of control. Extinctions of plants and animals are happening at an astonishing rate – one thousand times greater than before humans walked the earth." Naughton stood, and stepped closer to the glass. "The planet has experienced five major extinctions, and we are causing a sixth. Humanity does not have the courage or the ability to control itself." He paced to the chamber with the monkey. "We are destroying the planet we rely on, and we're taking much of the rest of life with us."

  "And you can fix that?"

  Naughton turned back to look at Kelly. "Oh, yes. Beyond a doubt. We developed a virus some time ago. By we, I mean the United States. It was part of the biological weapons program – mostly intended to find ways to defend against biological warfare. The rational was that we needed to know the weapon to know the defense. The work I was involved with was eventually terminated, but I remained interested in the Pandomidae Virus. We called it PV 7 or Pan 7. I now have Pan 14. Several of the variants were deadly enough to do the trick, but the problem is, they also affected other primates. Before I released the virus and solved the world's human problem, I wanted to see if I could develop a variant that could spare our wild cousins. I'm happy to report that Pan 14 appears to meet that requirement." Naughton gestured toward the monkey in the adjacent chamber. "As you can see, Topper is doing quite well, and the early first-in-man tests have been successful. I only need to confirm continued viability."

  Kelly eased away from Jessica and approached the acrylic barrier. "You're trying to use this virus to kill people off?"

  "Precisely. While I dream of a 100% mortality rate, mid 90s is more realistic. Other-cause deaths, violence and so forth, will raise that number. With any luck, the population will get low enough to create an extinction event. If not, the planet should still enjoy a nice reprieve."

  "You'd be killing yourself, too."

  "Oh, yes. But I'm perfectly willing to embrace the responsibility to die. That's one of the problems with humanity. We don't, as a species, realize that limiting our numbers is critical, that developing a sense of responsibility to die would be healthy. Instead we test monkeys and countless other animals, killing them in an effort to live yet longer. When it comes to life, we are greedy beyond belief; beyond any sense of responsibility. We have unbalanced the planet."

  "You're a lunatic."

  "Oh, please. Think about it. We're doomed anyway. May as well get it over with and save the other animals."

  Kelly gestured toward the far chamber. "And that man you brought in? You're testing the virus on him?"

  "Yes. He should be symptomatic in about 24 hours."

  "You won't have 24 hours. The police will be here before that."

  "And why is that?"

  "Because we didn't come alone. Our friend will be calling the police by now."

  "Nice try. We have your car keys."

  "I didn't drive. We took my buddy's car."

  Naughton pondered that possibility. "Quick answer, but I don't believe it." Naughton went to the counter by the desk, picked up the other two-way radio. "Richard, have you seen any cars drive off?"

  "No. All quiet. Haven't found their car yet."

  "They probably hid it, which is good. That means you could wait and find it tomorrow in the daylight."

  "I'll keep looking. I'd rather move it in the
night."

  "Yes, I suppose that may be best. Thank you." Naughton set the radio back on the charger. "Good man, Richard. Very loyal." He turned back to Kelly. "I don't suppose you'd care to tell us where your car is. Save him the trouble of looking."

  "I told you. My buddy drove."

  "Yes. First you say your car wouldn't start, and now your buddy drove. I suspect Richard will find your car soon. But if not, and if you really do have an accomplice, then we release the other variants. That actually has some appeal – might be more effective to release more than one – but it's also regrettable. A lot of work went into protecting our primate friends." He looked toward the monkey. "That would be unfortunate, wouldn't it Topper?"

  Jessica chimed in, still squatting against the back wall, arms around her knees. "You say you care about the primates, the monkeys," she said, "but I bet you've killed quite a few playing with your virus."

  "Only a few," said Naughton, as he headed toward the door leading to the barn. "And yes, it's regrettable." He fetched an umbrella from the cabinet. "Fortunately, most of the testing can be done on humans. It's only the end-stage testing that requires a monkey. Theirs is a noble sacrifice."

  "How many humans have you ... tested?" asked Kelly.

  Naughton turned toward him. "Not nearly enough. There's well over seven billion to go."

  He smiled as he unlocked the door to leave, but Kelly had one more question. "Where do you get your test subjects?" Jessica came to Kelly's side and wrapped an arm around him.

  Naughton looked back at them. "We find them all around the region. Mostly people who will not readily be missed." He pointed his umbrella at the third chamber. "That new gentleman was discovered at a bus depot in St. Cloud. Richard rather enjoys acquiring our test subjects. Still, it's very nice of you to save him a trip by volunteering."

  Naughton gave them a salute with his umbrella. He laughed as he opened the door, but the laugh stopped abruptly, interrupted by a loud snapping. Naughton became rigid, shook, and fell to the floor.

  "Bennie!" cried Kelly.

  Bennie moved quickly. Using the baton-style stun gun as a club, he struck Naughton in the head then rolled him onto his stomach. With the baton dangling from a wrist strap, Bennie slipped a pre-tied loop of line over one of Naughton's wrists and set about tying the other hand.

  "Bennie," murmured Kelly as he realized the truth.

  Naughton began to moan in protest. Bennie pulled a roll of duct tape from an accessory bag on his belt. He added a few turns of tape around Naughton's wrists, supplementing the line.

  "No," said Jessica, not wanting to believe that Bennie could be the murderer.

  As Bennie went to tape Naughton's ankles, the doctor fought back, trying to stand. Another jolt of electricity ended his resistance. Bennie quickly immobilized Naughton's legs.

  "Bennie, Naughton's crazy," called out Kelly. "He's planning to kill everybody. Everybody in the world. With a virus. That monkey and that man in that last chamber – they're infected. You've got to let us out. We've got to go for help. The CDC has to be alerted."

  "A virus?" Bennie took a moment to look around. "I guess we were right. He did have something going on. Pretty fancy digs in here."

  "Bennie, let us out."

  "How did you end up in there?"

  "We snuck in and they caught us. Let us out."

  "Saw your car," said Bennie. "Wondered."

  "Bennie, please," added Jessica. "Let us out."

  "Gonna have to think on that a bit." Bennie rolled Naughton onto his back. "Might be better if you stay there a while. At least until I'm long gone. I'll call the police; let 'em know you're here."

  Kelly slapped the acrylic wall. "No, Bennie. There's too much at stake. Naughton's goon could come back at any time. We can't risk the virus getting out."

  "Goonie left. Saw him drive off. A round trip to anywhere from here gives us plenty of time."

  "No! He went to look for our car. He's still around."

  Bennie looked toward the door. He went cautiously out to the barn, baton poised for action. He returned a moment later, closed the door, and threw the deadbolt. "Not back yet."

  "But he will be. The car won't start for him. He doesn't know the trick. He could come back sooner than you think."

  Naughton was breathing hard, but he managed to raise his head, look at Bennie. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

  "You killed Mom. And you shoulda gone to prison. But you didn't. So now you get to go to hell."

  "Your mother? Who is your mother?"

  Bennie ripped a length of duct tape from the roll and tacked it to the nearby chair. "You never met her. She just took your medicine. Your poison. That Amflexidyne. And the others were in on it, too. You all knew." He prepped another strip of tape, and then pulled out a sandwich bag half filled with pills. "So, here's some medicine for you. I picked suppositories – because you're an arrogant pain in the ass." Bennie gave Naughton another jolt of the stun baton and stuffed the bag of pills in the doctor's mouth, sealing it in with the strips of tape.

  "Bennie, don't do this," said Kelly.

  Naughton bucked on the floor, starting to choke.

  "Breathe through your nose," said Bennie. "Nice and calm."

  The advice seemed to help. Naughton's struggling eased.

  With Naughton secured, Bennie turned toward Kelly and Jessica. "They each got different pills. I used stool softeners for Kupmeier, since he's such a hard ass. Heckathorn got laxatives, because those PR guys are so full of shit." Bennie smiled, amused by his choices. "And Padden got fish oil caps, 'cause his reports on the drug were fishy, and that worked out 'specially well, since I caught him at his fish house."

  "Bennie, please," said Jessica.

  Bennie ignored her. He stood over Naughton. "He really has a virus to kill everybody? Why does he want to do that?"

  "He says humans are overrunning the planet, ruining it. He wants to save the world for all the other animals. Bennie, let us out."

  "He can really do that? Release a virus that kills everybody?"

  "He seems to think so. He's testing it on that guy over there."

  Bennie wandered to the third chamber and tapped the glass with the baton. "Hey, wake up!"

  "I think he's drugged," said Kelly.

  "Or maybe he's already dead." Bennie turned his attention to the monkey. "I've always thought it would be nice to have a pet monkey."

  "Not that one. If he gets out, he'll spread the virus. Bennie, come on; let us out."

  "You've been good to me, Kel. And I appreciate you helping me find this farm and track down Naughton. He was tough to get close to. But if I let you out, you'll have to tell the cops about me, and that's okay, but I need a bit of lead time. Unless, of course, I just let that monkey out. That's not a bad idea the Doc has."

  "Bennie. Don't talk like that. I'm sorry about your mom, but you've got to help."

  Jessica put both hands on the acrylic wall. "You'd be the hero, Bennie. Saved the world."

  Bennie seemed mildly amused. "Killed a handful of people, but saved the rest. Pretty goofy hero."

  Bennie went back to Naughton. "Okay Doc. Can't wait any longer." He put a small clamp, similar to a clothes pin, on Naughton's nose. Naughton began to thrash, unable to breathe, trying to dislodge the clamp, but Bennie gave him a jolt of the baton. "Takes a few jabs before they stop fighting."

  "Bennie, stop – you've got to let us out."

  Keys rattled at the door. The deadbolt turned. Bennie whirled, looking to strike as the door opened. Ivers was startled, but managed to deflect Bennie's thrust. He took a shock to the forearm, which only staggered him. He had taken off his raincoat and now bunched it in his hands as a shield against the snapping baton.

  Naughton, thrashing on the floor, managed to rub the clip from his nose. His vocalizations were stifled by the bag of pills and the duct tape, but he was clearly appealing to Ivers, and Kelly realized why – he was trying to alert Ivers to the shotgun by the cabine
t.

  "Bennie! There's ..." Kelly wanted to shout a warning about the gun, but it was closest to Ivers. "Bennie let us out to help you."

  Naughton was now between Bennie and Ivers as the two jockeyed for advantage – Bennie wary of the strength and size of Ivers, and Ivers wary of the baton. Ivers bent to remove the tape over Naughton's mouth, but the snapping baton drove him back.

  "Bennie! I can help," repeated Kelly.

  Bennie relented, retreating to the chamber, working the three latches, all the while keeping an eye on Ivers, who took the opportunity to pull the tape from Naughton's mouth.

  "Run!" called Kelly as the door to the chamber opened. He and Jessica raced away from Ivers, toward the mechanical room.

  Ivers pulled the bag out of Naughton's mouth. "The shotgun," Naughton gasped. "By the cabinet."

  Kelly opened the mechanical room door and glanced back. Ivers was going for the gun. Bennie hesitated, then came running. With Jessica in the lead, the trio ran through the mechanical room.

  "Go ahead," said Bennie. "I'll nail 'em if they come this way." He ducked behind the water heater.

  Kelly wasn't about to argue. He grabbed the fire extinguisher and headed with Jessica into the passageway. Reaching the barn, Kelly used the extinguisher to bash out a window and clear away the broken glass. They had just climbed over the sill into the driving rain when a shotgun blast from the front of the barn shattered a window, showering them with glass. They ducked down.

  "You okay?" said Kelly.

  "Yes."

  They looked up just as Ivers and Naughton came from the front of the barn, Naughton holding the spotlight and handgun, Ivers the shotgun.

  Kelly and Jessica ran, the spotlight finding them as they darted behind the far end of the barn. Indecipherable shouts came from Naughton, but Kelly had no doubt that Ivers was being dispatched to chase them down. They struggled on the slippery, rain-soaked hillside, angling their way to the top of the ridge, quickly becoming drenched by the rain.

  Kelly chose to double-back, hoping Ivers wouldn't expect them to go toward the front of the barn. They ran past vents to the lab below that were partially hidden by shrubbery.

  They paused behind a bush where they had a good view of the farmyard below. Naughton, armed with the pistol, was still on station near the barn door, using the spotlight to watch the broken window near the back as he covered both exits, apparently realizing that only two of them had gotten out, with Bennie still inside.

  "What should we do?" asked Jessica.

  "I have a spare key hidden on the car, but it would take some doing to get there, and Ivers likely found the car, so he'll know where to look for us." Kelly looked off to the west. "We could head out across the fields, but we'd be out in the open, easy to spot. I think we better go north along the stream where there's some cover. We'll eventually get to the highway where we can flag somebody down."

  They were about to move, but in a ripple of lightning, they saw Ivers coming from behind at a trot. Kelly's choice of direction hadn't fooled him. He hadn't seen them yet, but he was following their path through the tall grass, shotgun at the ready.

  Keeping the shrub between them and Ivers, they headed down the ridge. They tried to move quickly, yet not make noise, fearing they'd alert Naughton, whose attention was focused in the opposite direction.

  Once on level ground, they ran for the woods, but as they neared the old barn, the motion sensor on the house came on, betraying their presence.

  "This way," called Kelly. They turned for the barn just as Naughton hit them with the spotlight. The pistol fired, then the shotgun, the blast splintering the last plank of barn wood that held the door. Kelly and Jessica ran inside, the door clattering to the ground behind them.

  Naughton's spotlight had the unintended consequence of allowing Kelly and Jessica see that the barn offered a selection of bad choices – a climb up a pile of debris to a gaping hole in the sagging roof, or an equally unattractive climb down though the shattered floor into the basement, possibly allowing them to escape through the door on the lower level.

  They didn't have time for either. "Hide there," Kelly told Jessica, indicating the space behind an old manure spreader by the wall.

  Kelly picked up a broken two-by-four to use as a weapon, but then spotted an old hay bale hook hanging on a nail. He grabbed it, just as Naughton's spotlight turned away, leaving them in darkness.

  Kelly waited by the door, prepared to attack as Ivers entered, hoping to strike before the shotgun, or Iver's strength, could come into play. He was encouraged by the darkness. The yard light had timed out, and Naughton had apparently gone back to watching for Bennie, but then another light came on – Ivers had a flashlight. My flashlight, suspected Kelly.

  Ivers paused outside the door, shining the light around the interior. It fell upon the manure spreader, the debris leading to the roof, and the rubble to the basement. Kelly waited, wanting Ivers to come closer, wanting a chance.

  The light suddenly fell away. Ivers' footfalls moved off. Kelly was puzzled, until the light showed from the floor below. Ivers had gone around to the basement door.

  "Jessica!" Kelly hissed.

  She came running, having reached the same conclusion – that Ivers had assumed they went through the hole in the floor.

  They ran up the hillside. The route took them away from Ivers, but it was also more in the open. They started to cut across a field of wheat stubble, but mud accumulating on their shoes forced them back to the tall prairie grass at the field's margin.

  Much of the lightning had moved east, but the rain had eased some, allowing a hint of light from the nearby town of Kindred to reflect off the clouds, saving them from total darkness.

  Ivers had apparently realized his mistake – the flashlight now appeared behind them, Ivers on the run, perhaps 50 yards away.

  Kelly and Jessica ran down the hill, finding a farm lane that made the going easier. They raced north, with the stream to their right beyond the trees.

  "We should split up," called Jessica, breathlessly. "He can't follow us both."

  "We should," Kelly agreed, but they continued on.

  Kelly saw Ivers follow down the hillside, using the flashlight to track them. Kelly figured their best hope now was to lose Ivers in the darkness – hiding somewhere, then slipping away, but the terrain flattened out, the farm field running down to the stream, the trees becoming few, offering no good places to hide. Swimming for it seemed equally bad. Ivers would be quickly upon them, with the swollen, fast-moving water taking them back toward the farm. The stream was also peppered with snags – trees and brush that had fallen victim to the high water.

  "You go on ahead," said Kelly. "Draw him off. I'll hide in the grass and jump him – let him have it with this hook."

  "Kelly, no."

  "Got to. Go on. I'll find a spot."

  He began to fall back, trying to find a suitable hiding place in the brush.

  "Kelly, there's a train!" The light of a locomotive cut the darkness off to their right, heading for a trestle over the stream. "Come on! Maybe we can cross the tracks ahead of it!"

  Kelly sprinted to catch up. If they could beat the train, they could leave Ivers behind. They ran for all they were worth, gasping for air. The farm lane ended where it came level with the field, and they were once again running on a field of wheat stubble, their shoes becoming caked with mud, the going difficult.

  "My shoe," cried Jessica as she lost it to the mud. She paused only long enough to pull off her other shoe. Kelly followed suit, pulling off his heavy, mud-encumbered tennis shoes even as he kept moving.

  The train neared the trestle, the locomotive rumbling ominously, the freight cars clacking along behind. At the end of the field, Kelly and Jessica tumbled into a ditch, waist-deep with silt-laden water. They quickly recovered, slogging ahead through a stand of cattails. Grabbing grass and brush, they pulled themselves from the ditch and began to clamber up the grassy slope of the railbed.


  "Careful. There's wire here," called Kelly as his jeans caught on the remains of an old barbed wire fence. He held the wire down with the hay bale hook and helped Jessica navigate the hazard. A dangling sock snagged and pulled free from her foot, but she made it through. Kelly wasn't so lucky; his pant leg was caught in two places. "Go! I'm coming."

  Jessica crawled on all fours up the railbed. Kelly tore his pant leg from the wire and scrambled up after her. The light of the locomotive now lit their position, the train rumbling onto the trestle. The horn blared, the engineer having spied them.

  A shower of dirt and rocks exploded by Kelly's hand, the pop of the shotgun dimly heard over the roar of the train. Jessica came to her feet beside the tracks, but hesitated, not daring to dash across as the train was now upon them.

  The locomotive charged past, just feet away, plunging them again into darkness and buffeting them with wind. A swirling blast of mist joined the rain.

  With nowhere else to go, they ran toward the trestle, the sharp railbed rocks beneath their feet. In a ripple of lightning, they glimpsed Ivers, charging through the ditch. He raised the gun and fired. Sparks showered off the passing boxcar, the blast ringing against the steel.

  The trestle offered no passage beneath, but a tall stand of grass on the embankment provided a momentary hiding place. Kelly swore as he cut his arm on more barbed wire. The strands had angled up to terminate at the trestle, twisting together where they were once held by a now-missing fencepost.

  "No way the train will pass before he gets to us," shouted Kelly over the noise.

  "We'll have to swim for it," said Jessica.

  Kelly remained convinced that they'd either drown or be shot by Ivers, but Jessica was probably right, they had no other option. Ivers would soon close in.

  "Okay, but let's wait until he's on the other side of the wire. He'll have to get back across it to get to the stream. Maybe it will slow him down and we can get past him."

  It was a thin advantage, but jumping now would give Ivers time to get positioned by the stream as they swam past.

  The scant light was barely enough to track Ivers' progress. As he stumbled onto the fence, they prepared to jump, Jessica eyeing the rushing water as she crouched at the edge of the concrete wall that supported the embankment.

  "Wait!" said Kelly. He threaded the hay bale hook through the bundle of fence wire, twisting it around the hook's handle. He yanked the wire from the grass and climbed toward the train.

  Ivers, just beginning to pick his way through the wire, spotted him and raised the shotgun. Kelly dove, catching the bottom step of a passing car with the hook. The line of old fence tore from the grass in an eruption of wire, rotted posts and brush. The shotgun went flying as Ivers was snatched up, folded into a snare of wire that dragged him in a tumble to the tracks. The collection of debris thrashed alongside the train, chewed by the wooden railroad ties and iron wheels. Sparks showered where wire fought with steel. Crushed fence posts thudded beneath the train.

  The commotion soon subsided, and the last car passed. There came a final spark in the distance, the train continuing into the night as though nothing had happened.

  Jessica and Kelly held each other as the red light on the last car slowly vanished into the mist.