Part 34 (1/2)
Bourke shrugged. ”Maybe the Army is attempting a cover up. You're a national embarra.s.sment.”
Smythe frowned. ”This is pointless. I'm done talking.”
”I have more questions.”
”I don't have more answers.”
”Talk to me,” Bourke said. ”I can get you the help you need. Chicago has some good psychiatrists.”
Smythe remained silent.
”Then I'll just hold you here until the court decides what to do with you.”
”I don't think so.” Smythe shook his head. ”You have no paperwork. Remember?”
”I'll go out to Naperville and re-interview witnesses myself,” Bourke said. ”I'll recreate the missing files. I'll get a judge to issue a new arrest warrant.”
”Don't bother. I'll never stand trial. People will come for me, and if you get in the way, you'll just get hurt.”
”Are you threatening me?”
”I won't be doing the hurting,” Smythe said.
”You're insanity is making you paranoid.”
Smythe sighed deeply. He finally understood the true magnitude of his error. ”It was stupid for me to talk to you at all. Stay away from me. I'm a bringer of death. A monster who has no place among ordinary people. I need to be with my own kind.” It was a bitter realization.
”Why did you murder Mark Woods?”
He just stared at Bourke.
”What really happened in that hotel?”
Smythe looked down at the table.
After a minute of silence, the detective stood and left the room.
Eventually, Smythe was taken back to his cell. One of the minor perks of being accused of murder was that he didn't have to share it. He had the stainless steel toilet and single bed to himself. The bed was just a concrete bench with a thin, foam pad on top. There wasn't even a pillow.
He had just sat down when a sergeant knocked on the bars.
”You have a visitor,” he said.
Smythe sagged. The list of possible visitors was very short and not pleasant to contemplate.
The sergeant backed off several paces, and Ethel took his place in front of the cell. She wore a gray business jacket over a white s.h.i.+rt. Her disturbingly dark eyes showed no emotion. Fear made Smythe s.h.i.+ver. He would've preferred to fight a battalion of Afghani rebels rather than face this woman now.
He stood close to her and spoke softly. ”I screwed up. I'm an idiot. I admit it.”
”What was your plan?” she said. ”We know you took food samples from the laboratory.”
”I hired a courier service to deliver the samples to the Army lab. I expected to come back to headquarters before anybody got suspicious, but I was arrested instead. The samples never made it out.”
”I see.”
”How did you find me, ma'am?” he asked.
”If you had kept your phone, it would've been a lot easier. When you didn't come home, Edward started checking police reports. He wasted hours that should've been spent on the mission. I should be at headquarters right now, leading my team.”
”Sorry.”
”Did the police interview you?” she said. ”What did you tell them?”
”I talked about the Eternals, but the detective thinks I'm delusional.”
”Of course he does. Did you talk about us?”
”No, ma'am,” he said firmly.
She crossed her arms. ”Now I have a difficult decision to make. What should I do with you?”
”Innocent people are dying of a terrible illness. As a doctor and a human being, I can't ignore that fact. You may not like what I did, but honor and compa.s.sion compelled me.”
”I understand. You're not evil or stupid. In fact you're one of the more promising recruits I've had. You're just very stubborn. I asked you to trust me. Why didn't you? I told you the illness will be dealt with at the proper time, and that's still absolutely true. I never forgot about those innocent people.”
His sighed. ”Are you going to kill me, ma'am?”
”I don't know.” She looked up at the ceiling. ”As you sit in this cell, G.o.d is teaching you a lesson and maybe I should let that lesson continue. On the other hand, a strong commander doesn't flinch when an unpleasant task must be done. I gave you plenty of warnings. I need to think about this.”
”For how long?”
”Not very.” She looked straight at him. ”This could be our last conversation. It was nice knowing you Dr. Smythe. I'll always value the brief time we spent together, and if I do kill you, I won't enjoy it.”
She walked off.
A few hours later, Smythe was lying on his concrete bed, staring at the concrete ceiling. He had tried to sleep but it was only seven o'clock at night. He wasn't tired enough to fall asleep this early, especially when there was so much on his mind. However, the soldier in him kept ordering him to rest while he had the chance.
Two police officers came to the door of his cell. They were young men, and their blue uniforms had nice, crisp creases.
”Get up,” one of the cops said. ”You're being transferred.”
Smythe stood. His opportunity to sleep was gone.