Evil Intent (17 page)

“Sure, if you can’t find us, check the roof.”

“Come on Jennifer. Rick hasn’t seen this place,” taking Jennifer’s hand in hers and then pulling Rick to his feet. The three of them staggered off searching for the elevator.

When the elevator doors opened, they were shocked with the number of people on the rooftop - small clusters talking and laughing, others dancing to loud rock music, and of course, even four or five brave ones who stepped out of their clothing and were naked in the pool.

“My, my, Jay must have quite the reputation for his naked pool parties,” Jennifer said to her girlfriend.

“Whoa, this place is incredible, ladies,” Rick added.

Naturally, Jay had several more drinks while on the roof. There not only was a standing bar on the roof, but a couple of young, sexy, topless ladies were strutting around in only their Bikini bottoms, high heels, and carrying champagne on a tray. One of the topless girls spotted cute Rick coming off the elevator and immediately came over offering the three of them Champagne, but actually fixing her eyes specifically on Rick. Rick too, had his eyes specifically fixed on one place. All three reached for a glass of champagne.

The three friends found their way to a corner and stood talking, admiring the city views from the roof.

“I need another drink,” JE’s friend said. “Save my place and don’t let Rick get away!” And then she was off.

“You heard her, you’re supposed to preoccupy me so that I won’t escape and find that topless chick,” Rick said reaching behind Jennifer, pulling her toward him. He placed the other hand tightly around her breast while trying to give her a long passionate kiss.”

“No!” Jennifer screamed. I can’t Rick, please.”

“Ah, come on beautiful. Let’s have a little fun. I like you!”

“You do? We’ve only met.”

“Yeah, and let me tell you, you are one hell of a hot looking chick!”

“Rick, I think I’m going to get sick,” Jennifer said as she turned, and vomited over the patio railing just as her friend returned.

“Jennifer! Are you alright?”

“I’ll be find,” she said choking. “But, maybe I need to go. I really don’t feel that good. I think I’m drunk.”

“I’ll catch up with you ladies later,” Rick told them as he walked away.

“No, Rick, wait!”

“Let him go,” Jennifer said. “He’s a creep anyway!”

“What’d you say?”

“I said I think I’d better go.”

“No shit. Did you eat anything?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Let me get you some orange juice, Jennifer.”

“No, I’m just going home. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Jennifer staggering toward the elevator as her friend, walked into the crowd searching for Rick.

Jennifer eventually found the front door, and left the party without telling anyone else. The air was cool outside, making Jennifer’s condition only worse. She slowly stumbled along Fifth Avenue, holding the wall, alongside the Park, until she came to her street. She was oblivious that someone was following her. She rounded the corner onto the residential street. It was dark and deserted, but not too much further to her apartment building, when she noticed the man on the opposite side of the street. For some reason, she knew he was watching her. She stopped for a second, turning toward him. He stopped as well, facing her. He was holding something in his hand, as she suddenly felt something very warm and strange inside her body. She instantly wobbled and felt very woozy. She turned and tried to continue walking but was badly swaying now, so much so, it was difficult to walk. Suddenly, she screamed and fell to the sidewalk. The man in the trench coat ran across the street coming closer to her.

“Help me, please. I don’t feel well,”

“You’ll be fine in a few seconds,” the man said.

Jennifer, struggled to get back on her feet, managing to stand. She started walking again.

“Hey, how the hell are you standing, lady?”

She screamed again, as the man quickly grabbed onto her. He reached into his pocket pulling out a large syringe, quickly plunging it into her neck. She grabbed him as if to wrestle him to the ground, her hand reaching up trying desperately to yank the syringe from her body before he could empty its content. Her other hand clawed at his eyes, causing him to cry out, “you bitch!”

She was grabbing his hair, pulling it as hard as she could, when he managed to empty the syringe into her, despite the struggle.

“Die bitch! God damn it, die!”

She was still clutching his trench coat, when she slumped to the ground, her body, knocking the small computer and syringe from his hands, as she slowly fell. Within the next 15 seconds she was dead. The man in the trench coat, panicked, dropping to the sidewalk, scrambling to pick up the broken pieces of the laptop.

“Where is the damn, syringe?” he cried out.

Lifting her body, he spotted the syringe lying under her hips. He snatched it up, along with the computer and ran off.

It was approximately 2 am when someone found the body.

Chapter 22

I
t was an unusually quiet Thursday, thank God, because Kathryn didn’t exactly get her normal, early morning start. Not feeling well when she awoke, she decided to call the office and leave Barbara a voice mail saying she would be late. When Barbara arrived she took the liberty of calling the various morning appointments on Kathryn’s calendar and canceling each of them, just to be safe. That was all except the quarterly, Corporate Sales call that was to take place at noon. It was a National conference call initiated by Corporate Headquarters for 9 am, California Time. Barbara knew Kathryn would want to be on that call. If there truly was a push to increase revenue, as Ted claimed, it would be discussed during that call. She still had an uncanny feeling Ted’s demands were just bullshit and not initiated by the Corporate Headquarters.

By mid-afternoon, Kathryn actually found herself yawning. Perhaps due to the slow day, or her restless nights and bouts of sleeplessness, or just because of the over abundant amount of stress she felt these days. Regardless of why, she was just about to take a walk to get a cup of coffee and try to wake up, when Barbara quietly approached her desk.

“Your two best friends from the NYPD are here to see you again. What should I tell them?”

“Unfortunately Barb, I don’t think I have a choice. Show them in, I guess.”

Moments later Detective Peters and Detective O’Donnell appeared in her office.

“Sorry to bother you again Miss Becker, but we have a few more questions we need to ask you, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s quite alright, detective. Please, come in. Good afternoon, Detective O’Donnell. Have a seat, gentlemen.”

“Thank you,” the detective said. “We’ll try to be quick, Miss Becker. Would you by chance, happen to know a Miss Jennifer Ellington?”

“Ellington? The name rings a bell, yes, I think I might?”

“You think you know her?”

“Well, I don’t know her personally, I know of her. Isn’t she the famous model? I think her picture is on all the City buses.”

“Can you tell us where you were last evening?”

“Yes, of course. I was with friends at a Bridge game. We were playing cards.”

“And, specifically, where was that?”

“An apartment on East 66th Street. What is this all about?”

Detective Peters looked at Sargent O’Donnell, raising his eyebrows.

“And, about what time did you leave the card game?”

“I don’t know, perhaps 11:00 o’clock, maybe a little later.”

“Then, where did you go?”

“I took a cab straight home. I live in the upper west side.”

“Was anyone with you? Or anyone home?”

“No. Why?”

“You were alone in your apartment?”

“Yes!” Kathryn started to get nervous and frustrated again, slightly raising her voice.”

“I assume there are witnesses that can support your statement?”

“Statement? Why, are you asking me all these questions?”

“Miss Ellington was found dead last evening.”

“Oh my God! Where? How? And....” Kathryn paused, with a puzzling look on her face, “you believe I had something to do with that? Where was she found?”

“East 68th Street. She was found dead, lying on the sidewalk.”

Kathryn suddenly looked like she had seen a ghost.

That’s two blocks from where I was. What are they thinking?

“What the hell makes you think I had something to do with this?”

“Just routine questions Miss Becker. We believe this murder is related to your case on file.”

“My case? You mean The Cafe 63 murder!”

“Yes, that one. Do you by chance own an Apple MacBook Air?”

“No, I don’t!”

“Are you aware of anyone in your office who may have one? Or, perhaps your company uses them?”

“You said murder? Miss Ellington was murdered? How is that related to the other deaths?”

“Miss Ellington, was wearing the same type of diabetic pump as the waitress, Lois Stanton. Miss Ellington died of an insulin overdose just as Miss Stanton did. Again, Miss Becker, about the computer? Are you aware of anyone in this office with a MacBook Air?”

“No sir. What does that computer have to do with the murder of that poor girl?”

“We don’t know ma’am. It’s just that we found something at the scene of the crime. Just a hunch ma’am. We have to ask.”

“Detective, you said with certainty that Miss Ellington was murdered, but your presumed connection is to Lois Stanton, not the young boy who was shot. Are you officially saying Lois was murdered too?”

“Yes, Miss Becker. Both of these cases are now officially classified as a homicide.”

“Oh dear Lord, you’re thinking there is a problem with my company’s device? The Diage AU003 Insulin Pump? That would be a disaster detective.”

“We’re not saying that ma’am. We don’t want to cause a panic by any means. We think these people were murdered by someone. The same someone. We are not accusing your company of any wrong doing.”

“And, how is all that related to a computer?”

“There was something found at the scene, a computer accessory, that works with a MacBook Air. We thought maybe you could help us.”

“What do I know about computers? You need to talk with Dr. Anton Andreyushkin, Russell Valmont, or Eric Halsey. They’re in charge of all the computer stuff. Anton is the executive who heads up the division. Besides, he’s the one who invented the damn pump!”

“We just might do that, Ma’am, but we wanted your opinion.

“My opinion? I have no clue about a MacAir, whatever you called it. Maybe the gizmo you found had nothing to do with the murder. Someone else may have dropped it or maybe it belonged to Miss Ellington. Why are you so sure there is a connection, Detective Peters?”

“We don’t know. Like I said, it is just a hunch. Two women, both wearing a pump made by your company die of an insulin injection. That’s odd. We thought maybe a computer containing information accessed from your company files, exists and includes names and personal information of people either using the pump, or associated with the pump in some way. Whoever did this may have been carrying a computer, and dropped something at the scene of the crime. Only speculation ma’am at this point. But we have to ask. I hope you understand.”

“I understand gentlemen, perfectly well! You specifically asked me if I owned a MacBook Air and where I was last evening! You didn’t say my company. Believe me sir, I understand that and don’t like it one bit. And, furthermore, I’d like to hear you tell me what time Miss Ellington was murdered?”

“We don’t know the official time of death, but it was last evening.”

“And, what did I tell you? I clearly explained to you that I was with friends, last evening, so I don’t understand why you keep asking me all these questions!”

“We don’t want you to get upset, it is just........”

“I know, I know, it’s just God damn routine procedures! Are you two finished, now?” Kathryn demanded, becoming considerably annoyed over the implications.

“We’re sorry you’re upset,” Detective O’Donnell said, “You explained where you were, which obviously I’m sure you have witnesses that would testify to that. You also explained that you don’t own a MacBook Air, and it doesn’t appear that your company uses them. I don’t think we need any more information,” said Detective O’Donnell.

“Thank you Miss Becker for your cooperation. I think we can go, now,” Detective Peters said as the two of them got up and walked to the door.

Detective O’Donnell stopped at the door, still looking at his notes. There was one other thing Miss Becker. We noted at some point, that your mother is also a type one diabetic, isn’t she?”

“Yes? That is true,” she answered, wondering why they would have brought my mother into the picture.

“Well, you don’t happen to carry hypodermic needles in your purse, by any chance, do you?”

“You’ve already asked me that question detective and the answer is emphatically no! I don’t have a habit of carrying hypodermic needles. Now, would the two of you please leave and let me go back to work?”

The look Kathryn gave him would make one believe daggers were about to fly out of her eye sockets.

“O’Donnell, enough, come on, let’s go. I’ve got it covered,” said Peters.

As the two officers were walking down a corridor, on their way to find Dr. Anton Andreyushkin, the detective asked O’Donnell. “Do you believe her?”

“I don’t know. We still need to hear from the coroner.”

It must have been an hour or so later, when Kathryn received a phone call from Detective O’Donnell.

“Yes, detective, what is it now?” Kathryn asked, feeling like she wanted to scream.

“Detective Peters asked that I call you, Miss Becker. We did get to speak with Russell Valmont.”

“Yeah, yeah, go on.”

“Well, ma’am, he didn’t know too much about use of the MacBook Air, but we’re going to follow-up with the others. We have no further interest in Mr. Valmont. He said he personally does not own a MacBook. We just wanted you to know.”

“Well, I’m glad you talked to him. Goodnight, detective.”

“Oh, ma’am, there’s just one more thing. The coroner’s preliminary report is competed.”

“So what? Why do I need to know that information, detective?” She said getting annoyed again.

“Sorry, Miss Becker, but Detective Peters wanted you to know that the coroner placed the time of death between midnight and 1 am. That’s all. Sorry to bother you.”

Kathryn slammed down the phone, as her eyes started to fill with tears. Realizing her predicament, she just sat there and cried.

As Kathryn continued to ponder her conversation with the police, she began to worry even more about the implications within their questions. Was it possible that something was seriously wrong with the Diage AU003 pump? Could Donald Gingrich be right in all his accusations? And what’s the deal with this MacBook thing? She decided to take a walk and ask a question or two, herself.

Barbara had said something earlier to her that Donald Gingrich didn’t come to work this morning. She was hoping she could speak with him about the MacBook and whether he was aware if anyone had one. She knew Donald would be honest and straightforward with her. Her next thought was Eric Halsey.

“Hi Eric, got a second?”

“Sure, for you Kathryn. What do you need?”

“I have a silly question. Do you happen to have a MacBook Air?”

“Why?”

“Someone was telling me, I might like one. I think the guy is an Apple geek.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I do have one.”

“You do!” She said rather shockingly. “I mean, oh, good. How do you like it?”

“I like it a lot.”

“Is it a full-fledged computer?”

“Yes, sort of.” Eric briefly laughed.

“That didn’t sound convincing to me, what’s the advantage of this thing?”

“First, it’s extremely light weight, and smaller in size, yet very fast. The downside is you don’t have a drive.”

“What?”

“The disk. You know, inserting a disk to load software or copy data. It basically relies on Internet downloads.”

“Oh, so there’s no way to transfer existing files, like my company work stuff, into the computer?”

“No. I wouldn’t go that far. Some people just like..... Take for example, if you did your tax return using Turbo Tax, you would not buy the Turbo Tax disks that you see in the store, and place it in a disk drive. Instead, you would download a version of Turbo Tax electronically from the Internet into the MacBook. Or, you just buy accessories.”

“What?”

“You could use a jump drive - the stick with your files on it.”

“I know what a jump drive is, I use them and copy office files that I work on at home.”

“Exactly, you would just need a small accessory from Apple - a converter type accessory. Maybe $20 bucks or something like that.”

“Got it. Thanks Eric. Oh, would you say these things are popular? Do many people here at work have them?”

“I really don’t know. Dr. Andreyushkin has one.”

“He does? That’s encouraging. Thank you, Eric. You’ve helped me a lot. I better let you get back to work. See you later.”