Counterpoint (39 page)

Gregor’s attorney called Don Henderson,
and arranged a meeting to discuss some facts that had come to
light. Don agreed, and set a date two days later at 10 am. He
wanted Mike Teal to be there, as well. Don was quite happy to have
the FBI deal with Gregor and his party. Even if they slipped
through the net, the three drug gangs were going down for a long
time for sure, and the amount of cocaine recovered was making big
news. For once in his life, Don was in favour with the mayor, big
time, so even if the FBI took credit for Gregor, he still couldn’t
lose.

The meeting was unlike anything the
three experienced men had ever known before. The attorney, Ian
Swindler had heard that Don was not overly interested in Gregor’s
involvement, though did not understand why.

Mike was convinced Gregor was framed,
but didn’t know how. He was prepared to go with anything that was
legally sound to get the drug charges dropped against Gregor.

Don was aiming to swing the whole
meeting in Mike’s direction if there was any risk of complications
in convicting Gregor.

Don and Mike chatted about the case for
five minutes until Swindler arrived. They made their introductions
and seemed surprisingly welcoming towards Swindler under the
circumstances, after all, they wanted to convict Gregor, and he
wanted to get him off the rap. A confrontational meeting was par
for the course, but not so, this time.

Ian Swindler went through the facts he
had uncovered.

“About two weeks before the arrests
were made at my client’s home his security guards spotted an
unfamiliar car in the area and traced it back through the hire
company to a Mr Jack Hoffer. Security followed it when it didn’t
return and found a man and a young girl up in the woods,
overlooking the house. Later, Mrs Yeltsin was approached by Jack
Stone, a man claiming to be the father of Matt Stone, someone he
thought my client had employed. Jack Stone or Hoffer as he is also
known gave her a photo to look at and she gave it back. She was
curious about his actions and invited him back to join in a party
they were holding, and he agreed to come. When Mrs Yeltsin returned
to her car, it was gone. As you know, a report was filed for the
theft. Stone arrived at the party and brought with him a young
girl, he introduced her as Jane Tyler. He spoke to my client and
gave him a photo. My client returned the photo and told Stone alias
Jack Hoffer, he had not employed his son and didn’t know where he
was. At the end of the party, that evening, they left. Then,
security reported a problem with the water supply. The utility Co.
treated the water that night and no more was thought of it. The
Water Utility Co. confirmed that no work was undertaken by them on
the supply pipe. Then came the attack. Some lunatic crashes through
the entrance gates in the utility van followed by my client’s car.
Petrol is dumped at the entrance and around the house. Then,
moments later a convoy of cars carrying men with guns burst onto
the property and a gunfight ensued. The petrol was ignited trapping
everyone on the property. By now, everyone was firing at everyone
else.”

“The drinking water we have since found
out was laced with cocaine and everyone at a house was under the
influence of the drug, and judgement was obviously impaired. During
the gunfight, the utility truck caught fire and crashed. The driver
jumped out with his clothes alight, but he managed to put them out.
He then climbed onto the parapet and with another person, and
jumped off. Moments later two figures with Paragliding equipment
flew around and then disappeared.”

Swindler paused for breath and reviewed
what he just said. What a far-fetched story, they must have thought
he was mad to tell a tale like that. They didn’t make any comment,
so he continued.

“I conclude, two or more persons have
faked my client’s fingerprints and planted incriminating evidence.
To draw attention to it, three rival drug gangs were lured to the
house and in the confusion, a gunfight took place, along with the
fires. Perhaps the sound of gunfire might have alerted the police,
but the fire certainly pinpointed the scene before anyone could get
away.” Swindler looked at the two men, and they looked calmly back.
There was no sign of incredulity in their faces just calm
acceptance.

Mike Teal could have kissed Swindler
when he concluded his account of the facts, though he hid his
enthusiasm to accept the story. Apart from a string of grunts of
understanding from Don, he contributed nothing to the meeting up to
this point.

"OK," said Don loudly, “If Mr Swindler
would kindly wait outside my office for a minute I want to discuss
a few things with Mr Teal.”

Swindler stood up slowly, gathering his
papers into his briefcase and went outside.

"Let Gregor go for now," said Teal “We
will check out the story. I have always been suspicious of this
case and what Swindler told us, makes better sense.”

"Fine by me," said Don, “But if you do
turn up something we can use to convict Gregor Yeltsin then we want
some credit, after all, we have played a material part in his
arrest.”

“Agreed,” said Teal, “I will leave you
to tell Swindler the good news.”

Mike left and told Swindler to go back
in.

“For the moment, the department is
releasing your client and his party until we can check out the
facts, but between you and me, I think he is in the clear.”

Ian Swindler could hardly believe his
good fortune, a nice easy case for a change and a happy client, all
the ingredients for a fat success fee.

Another desperate phone-call to Sam was
more successful this time, after she mentioned the gel like
clotting of blood around the wound. He provided the phone number of
someone who could perform the necessary surgery on Max, without
asking questions, or going through any formalities. Carla had to
get Max back in the car and drive to a private hospital 60 miles
away, out of the city. She was convinced Max would never survive
the journey. Although there was no more blood loss, he was turning
yellow with jaundice and had developed a high fever. He was now too
weak to help himself into the car, so she had to drag him onto the
parachute covering over the back seat.

The afternoon was sweltering outside
their air-conditioned car, and the traffic through the city was
painfully slow. She could hardly see Max’s face as he lay flat on
his back in the black folds of the parachute, but she could sense
he was slipping away. She resisted the urge to drive faster than
the steady flow of the vehicles around her; she didn’t want to draw
any unwelcome attention by driving recklessly.

Eventually, she reached the Douvane
Private Hospital and called her contact in the hospital, by phone
from the car. She was directed to a rear fire exit and was met by a
woman doctor, and two orderlies with a gurney. When the woman saw
Max’s condition Carla saw her face tense. The doctor could feel no
pulse in his neck and backed out of the car. Turning to Carla she
said grimly, “I think it’s too late.” The orderlies pulled the
blood-soaked body out of the car and lifted it onto the gurney. The
woman touched the jelly like blood, with a gloved finger and looked
questioningly at Carla. Carla’s face gave no inkling of
understanding.

“Let’s get him inside,” urged the
woman, anxious to avoid prying eyes. Along the corridor, she
stopped by a wall phone and told the orderly to take the body and
the girl to O.R. 3. They rushed on as the doctor called ahead on
the phone.

As the gurney entered the operating
room, the surgical team hurried in. Carla stood back out of the way
as a tall man checked again for a pulse and breathing. “Quick
everyone, he is still with us, I need... ” And he listed the drugs,
tests and equipment necessary to keep Max going a bit longer while
they prepared to operate. Again, the jelly blood raised a few
eyebrows, but the reason for that could wait.

Three hours later, surgery was
complete. What happened next was down to Max and his maker.

Carla could have waited by Max’s bed,
but she had that prickly, edgy feeling that had so often, rightly
warned of big trouble looming. She had to tie up a lot of loose
ends and quickly. The hospital also wanted $100,000 for their
services. The amount was not a problem, but it had to be cash.
Carla would need to draw small amounts each day over the next month
to avoid raising questions with the authorities.

One of the orderlies disposed of the
parachute and helped Carla clean up the car. The man assured her
the cleaning fluid would destroy all traces of blood and sprayed
Luminal all around, afterwards, to highlight any missed areas. The
Luminal and special light he used, confirmed nothing was
missed.

Next, she went back to her hotel,
cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes. She blew talcum powder
over every surface of the room so the cleaner would have to wipe
everything down and vacuum the whole room. Then she packed and
checked out, paying her bill in cash.

The bank agreed a wire transfer of
funds to a new account from her bank in the Cayman Islands, cash
being available later that day. She then picked up the bill at
Max’s boarding-house and cleared out his things. There was no point
in wiping down for prints, the place hadn’t been cleaned for
months.

Carla told the car hire company Max had
finished with the car, and took back the deposit. She then bought a
very cheap Honda with cash, from another firm close by, in the name
of Jane Tyler. Carla had bad vibes about continuing to use this
name, but it was preferable to using her own. There was no good
reason for her to be edgy, she thought there were no clues to link
them to Gregor, and the police were bound to accept the convincing
evidence they had planted. Still, best to be on the safe side, and
break any trail.

The lock up was the final problem, the
rent expired today, and there was a lot of forensic evidence there.
The only way to destroy it was a good fire; however, this would
draw attention to the place, and the owner had Max’s description.
She phoned the owner and asked if he could extend the rental for a
month and she would drop the cash round later. The man agreed but
insisted he could collect the cash from her there and check the
place at the same time. Carla did not want this, but had to agree,
so she bought a baseball cap some overalls and a yard brush and
swept up the dusty floor. By the time a man called, the air was
thick with choking dust and Carla’s face was grimy and running with
sweat. The man grabbed the cash and cleared off, not wanting to
become filthy himself.

Carla cleaned herself up as best she
could and drove back to the hospital. She showered and changed in
Max’s private room. The staff didn’t mind her staying in the room,
but as it was so small, she had to sleep on a Gurney. Having made
herself respectable again, the surgeon, Rodney and Kate the doctor
came in. The test results of Max’s bodily processes and functions
had just been sent back by pathology. No one had seen anything like
them before, so they wanted Carla to explain them. She answered
without hesitation having anticipated this scenario.

“Your patient, my boss is a genetic
physicist. He has been working on a project in Africa. The work is
illegal here and having reached the final stage of his experiments
he foolishly carried out a test on himself to prove the process
worked on the human body, without harmful side effects.”

“What exactly was he trying to
achieve,” asked Rodney?

“How old do you think your patient is?”
Asked Carla boldly. “Late thirties, I would guess” replied Rodney.
“Well, he is in his late Fifties, 57 to be precise.” Their jaws
dropped in amazement as Rodney and Kate looked at each other. “So
how did he get shot?” Kate asked. “It was someone he worked with,
who wanted the process for himself.” Carla lied.

“It is vital my boss remains alive so
he can perfect his process.”

“What do you mean by perfect the
process?” Queried Rodney.

“Well, at the moment there appears to
be no halting of the regenerative process so it may reduce him to a
child or even a foetus eventually.”

Silence followed as Rodney and Kate
considered the implications of what they had heard. Carla had
expected this and deliberately steered the lie this way. Firstly,
to make the two want the secret for themselves, this way they
wouldn’t tell anyone else. Then to place this final stumbling block
of unfinished work in the way, so they would have to string along
and co-operate, if they were ever to gain from the discovery. Carla
had them in the palm of her hand; she knew that their greed would
be the only way to keep Max’s injury from getting out, and also
ensure their safety, until Max got better, that is.

"Well," said Rodney, “Perhaps we can
talk again about this; in the meantime, we must keep him alive at
all costs.

A Freudian slip thought Carla; still it
works for me, she smiled to herself.

Rodney and Kate checked Max thoroughly,
and from the smiles on their faces, the prognosis looked good.

Based on what Swindler had said, Mike
Teal directed his investigation along those lines. Firstly he
checked out Jack Hoffer, Jack Stone and Jane Tyler. A Jack Hoffer
and Jane Tyler had just returned from Italy, independently, they
were the only persons of that name and matched the suspect’s
description exactly. However, they could not be the persons the FBI
was looking for. The name Jack Stone did not throw up any
worthwhile leads. Conclusion, the suspects were extremely well
organised and professional, having stolen the identities of this
unfortunate couple.

Routine inquiries at hotels and
boarding houses in the area showed the suspects had just checked
out. The girl’s room had been thoroughly cleaned, and the man’s
room was totally contaminated. No forensic leads there.