EJAX-472: Ch. 08

"I think we should forget about this whole thing," she said, breaking the silence.

The woman by the window turned to face her, as if seeing her for the first time.

"I cannot forget about it," Beechcroft replied, coldly. "I cannot forget about the years of unrequited labor expended on behalf of others less deserving than I, who by a combination of stealth and random fortune, used my research to serve their own selfish ends." She paused to assess the impact of her words on her associate, but when Dr. Hagstrom remained silent, she continued. "And my humiliation at the Clinic! I can never forget that either."

"You brought that upon yourself. You lost your temper."

"Yes, I did get angry. And that's something I rarely do."

Beechcroft walked back to the sofa and sat down. Dr. Hagstrom could barely discern her features in the fading light.

"We are running out of time Anna," she began. "We must get those codes."

"What do you suggest, Dr. Beechcroft? Put a gun to her head?"

"Nothing so dramatic as that. All I need you to do is to destroy all her existing work. Every sample, every document, every bit of scientific information related to the study and development of EJAX-472. It must all be destroyed."

"Ah!" Dr. Hagstrom replied. "You must be out of your mind, eh? What good would that possibly do? Tell me. What?"

"It will buy us time for one thing. If the hearing goes in her favor she may be allowed to go back to the Clinic and resume her work. We can't allow that. Her records must be destroyed so that she will be forced to start her research all over again and this time you will be there to help her every step of the way."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the Clinic must be burned to the ground. Nothing of her work must remain."

Dr. Hagstrom rose from her seat, the combined discomfiture of the chair and the near proximity of the instigating woman becoming too painful to bear. She watched as the bony fingers tightly clutched the handle of the teacup, looking all the more like the grasping claws of a predatory bird.

"So now in addition to all your other achievements, you want to become an arsonist too?" she exclaimed. "No. This is too crazy.You are crazy!"

"Listen to me. The labs at the University are the only ones in this entire country that are advanced enough to conduct this type of research. With all her work gone she will have no choice but to turn to you. She confides in you, so you tell me. Well, we can use this to our advantage. Once you have gained her trust she will reveal to you all her secrets. She'll have no other choice if she wants to keep her research alive."

"She may and she may not. You forget about her friend Rebecca."

"Don't worry about her. As Dr. Swensen's trust and dependence upon you grows, she will rely less on this other woman. You are the far greater scientist anyway and can offer the doctor much more. And she will need you and all the resources of the University if her work with EJAX-472 is to continue."

"Ah, I see you have it all worked out Dr. Beechcroft," said Dr. Hagstrom with a sly grin. "But you assume a great deal."

"I don't think so," she replied with a touch of arrogance. "It is only a logical inference deduced from known quantities."

"Yes, you would say that. You would try to reduce all human motivations to their equivalent mathematical expressions. But the human heart is an unknown variable eh?"

The tall woman walked over to a nearby floor lamp and lifted her hand to turn it on. "Do you mind?"

"No," Beechcroft said. "Leave it."

"It is dark in here," said Dr. Hagstrom.

Beechcroft rubbed the back of her neck as if in pain.

"My eyes are sensitive to the light," she said. "And you're leaving now anyway aren't you?"

Dr. Hagstrom stared hard at her accomplice and then walked briskly toward the door, pausing on the threshold.

"I assume you will be at the hearing tomorrow?"

"I'll be there," Beechcroft replied. "But we can't be seen together."

"Do not worry, I will keep my distance."

She took a few steps closer to the door and halted.

"Why do you feel it necessary to come, may I ask?"

"Are you serious? I'm looking forward to seeing this woman brought down before the entire court. What better reason is there than that?"

"How foolish of me to ask," Dr. Hagstrom said, wryly. "You realize you are ruining the life of a great woman, eh?"

To this Beechcroft made no reply.

"So, what am I to do?"

"You are to eliminate all her work conducted at the school. Everything must be done away with and it must be done tonight."

The tall woman sighed heavily. "And the Clinic?"

"It's all been taken care of. By tomorrow morning the building, and everything inside it, will be nothing more than ashes."

In the waning light Beechcroft's features were now merely a vague outline, but the tall woman didn't need to see her face to realize that the words poured forth from her lips had been uttered with perverse satisfaction. And if the tormented doctor could have seen Beechcroft's expression, she would have been repulsed by the thin, tightly set lips, now upturned into a hideous grin.

As she opened the door, a thin stream of light poured in from the hallway, offering insufficient illumination to breach the gloomy darkness of the room or of the obsessed mind within. She walked out the door, leaving the anorexic, bird-like creature to feast upon her machinations like a vulture upon a bloated carcass.

************

"We interrupt this program to bring you some late-breaking news. The Swensen Sex Research Clinic in Stockholm went up in flames early this morning around 3:30 AM, apparently the result of arson. The entire building and everything in it was destroyed by the intense fire caused, according to one fire official, by petroleum fuel, traces of which have been found in and around the building. Two men were seen fleeing the scene and the police are now engaged in a manhunt to track the suspected arsonists down. Dr. Christiana Swensen, the founder and director of the Clinic, has occupied the building for the past 10 years and has been a respected member of the community, offering services ranging from psychological counseling to treatments for various sexual problems. She is scheduled to appear in Stockholm District Court this morning on charges of illegal drug possession and distribution. Her brother-in-law, Philip Olmstead, is also being arraigned on charges stemming from drug trafficking and political malfeasance. We have learned from one law enforcement official that there is a distinct possibility the fire was started by members of a local drug gang who may have had a grudge against the Clinic and Dr. Swensen. The manner in which the fire was set would be 'consistent with their methods of operation,' the official said. Total damages are estimated to be in the millions of dollars."

The little man lying down on the cot took another swig of soda and laughed aloud. At last, all he had hoped for was now coming true—and he didn't even have to lift a finger in this latest calamity. It seemed that fate was on his side.

"Fuck you senorita!" he swore at the tiny black and white television screen bolted into the corner of the wall. "I told you I would break you like a stick!"

The pictures on the screen showed the building engulfed in flames, and he recalled all the pain and humiliation he had suffered at the good doctor's hands while a test subject within those walls, and relished in her misfortune. It had been his own gang, now under the temporary control of his cousin Antonio and his band of maggots, who were responsible for the torching of the Clinic. Antonio had called him a few days beforehand to seek his permission to destroy the building. He told Luis that they had been offered a handsome sum of money too good to refuse and Luis told him to go through with it. Antonio wasn't aware that Luis held any grudge against the doctor, and he, himself, would have rather spent the night in more profitable enterprises like drug dealing rather than burn down a building. But, sometimes people didn't need excuses to find ways to entertain themselves. All it took was an idle mind and a desire to do evil. When Luis asked him who had made the deal, Antonio said that he had been introduced to some strange, ugly, hook-nosed woman with hands like claws. It was she who had conducted the transaction.

A half hour earlier Lt. Endland had awakened him and questioned him rigorously about the incident, anxious to find out if he was behind the crime. But Luis, an accomplished liar, fended off the officer's barrage of questions like a lion tamer cracking his whip at a ferocious cat. Eventually, the lieutenant gave in and left Luis alone.

The thought of burning down the Clinic had never occurred to him, and it delighted him that someone else in the world had hated the woman doctor as much as he did, and was willing to pay a huge sum of money to accomplish the deed. To see the woman finally and utterly brought to her knees was what he desired most, and she was halfway there. The destruction of the Clinic and all her precious work was the first step. Her indictment in a court of law and subsequent imprisonment would be the second. And the best part of it all was that he would be there to witness her complete and total annihilation in person, exempt from legal punishment because he had helped the police bring her, and that miserable gringo, Philip Olmstead, to justice.

It was now almost 6:00 AM. He would be taken in handcuffs to the hearing at 8:30 AM, leaving him plenty of time for a little rest. He turned off the television and went back to sleep, while halfway across town another vengeful spirit was congratulating herself on her victory, quite oblivious to her evil counterpart and his equally evil agenda.

As the first few vestiges of sunlight crept into the stolid gloom of her ancient apartment, her long, bony fingers reached out to turn off the radio. The men she had hired had done their job well. The Clinic was gone and Dr. Hagstrom would see that all the remaining samples and documents would be destroyed also. With that accomplished, Dr. Swensen would have no other recourse but to turn to Dr. Hagstrom for aid, and within a very short time, she hoped, the missing pieces of the genetic puzzle would be uncovered, and her gateway to scientific immortality assured. This, and the resultant honor and glory that would be hers once she stepped off the plane back in America with another woman's life's work securely held within her vulture-like grasp, was all she could think about as she closed the blinds against the intruding light.

************

"Get up! Get up!"

"What? What is it?" I said, my throat creaking. "What's wrong?"

Rebecca pulled hard on my arm. "Hurry up, you have to see this!"

"What the hell time is it?" I said, as I felt my body being dragged out of bed.

"We're in a lot of trouble Chris. A fucking lot of trouble!"

She dragged me half stumbling toward the front of the house and had me stand by a window overlooking the porch. She drew back the curtain slightly.

"Look at that," she said.

Even before my eyes could focus on the scene, my ears had already interpreted the sounds. There, swarming all over the front yard and driveway, was a host of people, their cars, vans, television cameras, microphones, and other paraphernalia occupying the entire street and nearby vicinity. A group of curious neighbors had joined the ranks of the reporters, all engaged in an apparent attempt to coax us out of the house for an interview. Some of the neighbors were still dressed in their pajamas and bathrobes.

"They rang the doorbell several times but I didn't answer," Rebecca said, sneaking a peek outside.

"How long have they been there?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe a few minutes. I was in the shower and couldn't hear anything."

"The police told me they would keep my whereabouts secret. Somebody fucked up."

"That's not the worst of it," she said, and then suddenly grew quiet.

"What are you talking about?"

"Chris, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but the Clinic... it's gone."

I felt my throat close up. "What do you mean, 'gone'?"

"I just heard it on the news. The whole thing happened a few hours ago. The police believe some gang set fire to the building. Everything was burned...a total loss."

I slowly drew away from the window and walked backwards a few steps, falling into the nearest chair. The weight of her words was taking its time impacting itself upon my agonized brain.

"They showed the pictures on television," she continued. "Whoever did it knew what they were doing. They used petroleum fuel. You know, the kind they use in jet engines. It burns very hot and very fast. Nothing could have withstood the fire. Even the metal structural supports melted away. Can you imagine Chris? It melted the fucking metal! Thank God there was nobody in there."

Rebecca fell silent and dropped into the chair next to mine, the recollection of events proving too painful for even her stalwart personality to cope with. Outside I could hear the voices of people shouting at one another, cries of "is anybody in there" or "won't you please come out and talk to us" echoing over the din. There were so many emotions running rampant through my mind just then that I felt my skull was going to burst from the excess of mental activity. Should I cry? Should I scream? Should I go outside and kill somebody? This mix of confused and jumbled emotions made me feel impotent, as if I were a somnambulist walking along naked and lost in some artificial dream world. And all the while the noise outside acted as a distressing and persistent undercurrent to all the unpleasant feelings I was experiencing.

I looked at Rebecca. Her head had fallen onto her chest, tears falling from her closed eyes. I had never known her to look so defeated before.

"Come here," I said softly.

Without a word she slowly came and sat down beside me, allowing me to envelope her in my arms. As soon as she felt my embrace she sighed heavily and began to cry in earnest, her long drawn out breaths coming at rapid intervals. I felt her entire body shake violently as the magnitude of our loss was slowly absorbed into her consciousness. I wanted to say something to comfort her, but I could think of nothing to say. In my desire to ease the suffering of my friend, I had not taken into account my own sorrow and the fact that there was no one to comfort me. As a result, I could only hold her and let her cry as I sat there trying to make sense of the insensible.

The phone suddenly rang.

"I have to get that," she said, getting up.

It was the police. They told her that they were sending some patrol cars to the house to help keep the reporters at bay. They would then take us in a squad car to the district court.

When she hung up the phone her face looked pale and drawn but she had stopped crying.

"We should both get ready Chris. They'll be here in about twenty minutes."

I stared down at my hands. They were trembling.

"Chris? Did you hear me?"

I raised my head slowly, feeling the oppressive weight of my disillusionment envelope me like a shroud.

"Seven years of research and development and it's all gone, just like that," I said, snapping my fingers. "Who could have done such a thing? Andwhy? All I ever sought to do was to help people. And this is my reward?" I felt a sharp a pain in my chest as if someone had stabbed me with a knife. "There is something very wrong with this world Rebecca, when people seek to destroy those things that are good in it."

Rebecca kneeled down in front of me and took my shaking hands in hers.

"Look at me Chris. Come on. Look at me."

I slowly raised my head and met her gaze.

"This was a big loss for you—for both of us. But there's still hope. Remember Michelle and the girls still have all the samples and all our research papers at the University. And the genetic codes are all safely tucked away in our heads. That eccentric lady friend of yours, Dr. Hagstrom, seems to think you're the cat's meow and she's ready to bend over backwards for you. I didn't trust her at first, but after spending some time with her, I think she's not such a bad person. Don't you agree?"

"She's stubborn, just like you."

"That's probably why I didn't like her at first. She's a lot like me, just more outspoken."

"I wouldn't go that far," I said, fighting to smile.

"Oh, Chris," she said, caressing my face. "You know I really love you."

"I know," I replied. "But please don't. I don't think I can handle that right now."

She drew her hand away.

"I'm sorry. It's tough for me to keep my feelings bottled up all the time. You understand don't you?"

"Yes, my dear friend, I do. And I suppose you're right: we can rebuild. Between the insurance money and use of the facilities at the University, I think we'll be in good shape. Once we're on our feet again, we can think about building our own Clinic."

"Absolutely. We can't let this tragedy stop you from pursuing your work. There's simply too much at stake. And you still have some repair work to do on those men."

My thoughts turned immediately to one handsome young man.

"Poor Craig. I put him through hell."

"Maybe. But you brought him back out of it too."

We turned our heads simultaneously toward the front door. A man's voice was beckoning us to come outside.

"I'll be glad when the police get here," she said. "These people make me nervous."

I managed to take one of the quickest showers in my life and was dressed in short order. With minutes to spare, I gulped down a bowl of cold cereal and got my pertinent documents together and placed them inside my briefcase. I had already spoken to my sister the night before and she told me that she and Philip would meet me inside the courtroom in order to avoid the throngs of reporters she anticipated would be waiting outside for us when we arrived. Philip's lawyer, a Mr. Stephan Ambrose, would be representing all three of us. Bonnie had assured me that Stephan was a competent criminal attorney and I knew this to be true, as I myself had been aware of his many legal victories over the years. I felt reassured having such a powerful ally on our team.

In addition to Rebecca and myself, Maria, Cheryl, and Lynette had also been summoned to appear at the hearing. I had spoken with all three of them at various times over the past few days and all of them were prepared to speak out in my defense. I never got to speak to Cheryl directly, but was pleasantly surprised to hear Craig's voice on the other end of the line, his buoyant, good-natured attitude helping to revitalize my own failing sense of humor.

"Cheryl's in the shower," he said. "Do you want me to have her call you back?"

"No. Just tell her to be at the hearing on time. They may want to question her, and you as well."

"I'll tell her doctor," he replied.

"I assume you're coming together?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad the two of you are hitting it off. She's a wonderful girl."
"I couldn't agree more. She's a real sweetheart."

"I hope you haven't had any more incidents."

He laughed. "Nope. Not a one. But sometimes I get an erection just from thinking about Cheryl. Is that normal?"

"I'm sure if you ask her, she'll tell you that it is. In any case, the drug is almost out of your system. In a few days, you should be back to your old self."

"Thanks doctor. And thanks for introducing me to Cheryl."

Michelle was the last person I had spoken to yesterday and she had informed me that in addition to herself, Sheila, and Jennifer, Dr. Hagstrom would also be at the hearing to lend her added support to my case, if necessary. She assured me that all the samples and research documentation had been carefully placed in a metal container and locked in a wall safe in Dr. Hagstrom's office. She had also informed me that she had contacted all the test subjects and that they were experiencing no abnormal side effects from the drug. They were however, starting to exhibit the same sexual dysfunctions they had prior to following the EJAX-472 regimen. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do for them until after the hearing was conducted. Now, with my medical resources dwindling, they might have to wait an even longer period before their situation could be remedied. But at least they could appear in public without worrying that their modesty would be compromised by the side effects of my aberrant drug. All of them would be at the hearing, ready and willing to testify on my behalf.