‘I can give you another sedative, Mr. Wells.’
I looked round. Colonel Jimson had come in. Behind him, a male nurse was holding a metal tray, on which lay a full syringe.
‘But I don’t think you really want that,’ the medic continued.
He was right. They had me cold, no matter what I tried to do. I relaxed and the auxiliary let me go. I sat down amongst the demolished bedding and lowered my head. Karen and Magnus weren’t there anymore. I couldn’t see them. That was some kind of relief, but I immediately felt guilty.
‘Would you like something to eat?’ Jimson asked.
Initially, the idea of eating seemed so trivial, so irrelevant given what had happened, that I almost laughed. Then I realized that I was ravenous.
‘Bacon and sausages,’ I said, swallowing a rush of saliva. ‘Scrambled eggs, toast, coffee.’
The doctor nodded to the male nurse, who walked out. ‘The drugs have that effect. Apart from that, how are you feeling?’
‘How do you think?’
He glanced at the soldier, who was still near the bed. ‘All right, Corporal, you can go.’
When we were alone, Jimson came closer. ‘Are you up to receiving visitors? Mr. Sebastian told me to inform him the second you were awake.’
I looked at him. It seemed not all military men were by-the-book assholes.
Then again, remembering my trainer’s name, Quincy Jerome, I realized I already knew that. ‘Thanks. I appreciate it. I want to see him, too.’
‘Okay. Have your breakfast first.’
I did and, to my surprise, I felt better after it. Then I was stricken by remorse again. Karen and our son were dead and all I cared about was filling my stomach. Human beings were nothing more than animals.
Actually, they were much worse. Animals didn’t experiment on each other. Animals killed to eat, not for specious religions and ideologies. Animals weren’t immoral and malevolent.
Peter Sebastian came in and expressed his sympathy. If I hadn’t suspected that he was a highly devious operator, I’d have bought his performance. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel sympathy, I knew that. But I also knew he had other reasons to see me. That didn’t bother me-in fact, it could work to my advantage.
‘Food okay?’ he asked, inclining his head toward the tray.
‘You think that matters right now?’
‘I imagine not. Christ, Matt, it’s an awful thing.’
‘It’s down to Rothmann, isn’t it?’ I said, clenching my fists without thinking about it.
‘It’s too early to say. The pathologist is-’ He broke off, suddenly ill at ease.
‘I know what he’s doing,’ I said, with more bravado than I felt. Fortunately Karen and Magnus didn’t appear before me. ‘Is Rivers working on it, too?’
Sebastian nodded. ‘And Dr. Brown. I gather her process was effective.’
‘So they said. Let’s hope it put paid to the Rothmanns’ shit once and for all.’
‘Yes.’
The way he was looking at me made me suspicious. ‘What’s going on? What are you keeping from me?’
‘Nothing, Matt,’ he said, a shade too quickly.
‘What’s going on? You’re working some scheme, aren’t you?’
‘It’s…it’s a bit unusual,’ he said, with an unusual lack of confidence.
‘You’re going to let me out, aren’t you? All the training I’ve been doing, the extra sessions with Rivers, Dr. Brown’s process. What’s the catch?’
‘I don’t know if it is a catch, judging by what you said earlier.’ He was more composed now, back on home ground. ‘We want you to find Heinz Rothmann.’
I had to laugh, though I wasn’t even mildly amused. ‘That would be the Heinz Rothmann who tried to turn me into a killer? The Rothmann whose sister I killed and who would like to cut me to pieces in return?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, that same Heinz Rothmann whose conditioning program may have robbed you of Karen and your son.’
‘Despite the fact we were assured by you people that it wouldn’t affect them.’ I blinked hard before going on. ‘I used to write crime novels, remember? What’s important is the characters’ motivation. Why has the FBI changed its story on Karen’s pregnancy risks and become suddenly so keen on finding that German piece of shit?’
‘Actually, he has an American passport,’ Sebastian said, like a teacher correcting a pupil.
‘Maybe he does, but that doesn’t mean shit.’
‘In any case, your question is besides the point. The Bureau has been looking for Rothmann ever since he disappeared.’
‘Uh-huh. You wouldn’t recently have come to the conclusion that he’s behind these Hitler’s Hitman murders, would you?’
‘Obviously the presence of his confederate Gordy Lister at the scene in Philadelphia was suggestive.’ He smiled slackly. ‘Good catch, by the way.’
‘Your people would have got it when they went over the footage.’
‘I wish I had your faith.’
‘Any further sign of Lister?’
‘No. We’ve circulated details to the investigating teams at the other locations, but there have been no positive hits.’
I went over to the wardrobe.
‘What are you doing?’ Sebastian asked.
‘Getting dressed. I want to be out of the camp today.’
There was a pause. ‘Matt, I’ve no idea how long this might last. What do you want to do about…’
I stopped fastening my shirt buttons. ‘About Karen and Magnus? Nothing for the time being. Can…can they be kept here?’
‘I imagine so. But what about the funerals?’
‘That’s what I’m saying to you, Peter. Afterward. Until I nail Rothmann, I can’t think about that.’ I pulled on my jacket and turned to face him. ‘You haven’t asked about my terms.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You tried to kill the President and you’ve got terms?’
‘Fucking right I have,’ I said, losing my cool. ‘I want a lawyer. Right now!’
Sebastian stepped back as if I’d spat in his face.
‘Just kidding,’ I said, without a trace of a smile. ‘Sergeant Quincy Jerome. I want him to watch my back.’
‘But he’s regular army.’
‘Fix it. You weren’t planning on putting Arthur Bimsdale on that detail with Sara Robbins out there, were you?’
He shook his head vaguely. ‘Is that it?’
‘I’ll need to be armed.’
‘Even with the sergeant in tow?’
‘Yes. Fix that, too.’ I headed for the door. ‘I have things to pick up from the apartment.’
‘Matt,’ Sebastian said, ‘Wait.’ He was fumbling in his jacket pocket. ‘I got this for you. I understand you might not want it now…’
I opened the blue velvet box and looked at the ring.
‘Platinum and three diamonds,’ he said. ‘As per instructions.’
‘It’s good. But you keep it ’til this is over.’ I managed to suppress the tears until I had passed him.
Fourteen
Dr. Lester Rivers wasn’t the kind of man who hit things when he was angry, but the conference room table nearly received a pounding.
‘No, Mr. Sebastian, this is not acceptable. I cannot agree.’
The FBI man stared at him stonily. ‘Your professional opinion is noted, Doctor,’ he said. His hands stayed away from the open laptop in front of him.
Rivers noticed that and wondered exactly what was going on. The Bureau paid his salary and funded his research center, but he had never been treated like a junior employee before. Usually a team of scientific officers reviewed his work and the atmosphere on their visits was cordial. Copious notes were taken and he was later sent copies of their reports. But ever since Matt Wells and his unfortunate partner had arrived, Peter Sebastian had run the show, despite the fact that he was a violent crime investigation specialist, not a scientist. Many things, it seemed, weren’t written down.
‘Mr. Sebastian,’ Rivers said, glancing across the table at Alexandra Brown. ‘My work with Matt Wells has shown that the conditioning he underwent was complex and profound. Although we have been able to access many of the trigger sequences, it is very likely that he is still subject to control.’