Decency
Copyright © 2012 Rex Fuller
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1475123701
ISBN-13: 9781475123708
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62345-845-4
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012905923
CreateSpace, North Charleston, SC
FOR SALLY
FIRST, LAST AND
ALWAYS
This is a work of fiction. All persons, places, events and other content are products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictional way.
CONTENTS
The United States Intelligence Community enjoys unfettered power to classify people psychologically deficient. United States law, 5 U.S.C. 2302(a)(2)(C)(ii), exempts the intelligence agencies from taking otherwise prohibited personnel actions by definition.
The system works well enough,
UNTIL
…
T
HE ACT
.
Samantha raised both fists in the air.
YESSS! Finally got him…greedy traitor son of a bitch
.
She finished typing on her old Toshiba portable computer, the kind that existed before laptops, a $1.00 garage sale special bought for this purpose only. No internet or other connection. Unhackable.
…hard to believe he’s really falling for this…greed…that’s what made it easy… at the end…
She ejected the floppy diskette, turned off the machine, took it to the closet, and placed it and the diskette back in the bottom of the box where she kept them. She replaced the old CD’s, then winter clothes, then belts and purses layer by layer on top of the computer and diskettes. She returned to the spare room, and surveyed the results.
She glanced at the only three photos she displayed, one of Mom, one of Dad, and one of the three of them at her college graduation, one of many happy times. It would be so good, especially for them, to finally get all of this out of the way. She knew they worried, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it.
…time for bed…big day tomorrow…it’ll all be over…
She showered, put on her nightgown and robe, and flipped on the TV. CNN, Fox News, ESPN, C-SPAN, The Learning Channel, and several movies trained across the screen from her steady clicker button pushing.
…surf just long enough to get me sleepy…
The door bell rang.
…who on earth…?
Samantha went to the door and checked the eyepiece.
…it’s him…he only left an hour ago…forgot something…?
She opened the door.
“Did you forget something?”
“Only this…”
His arm spiked forward to her face. Pepper spray caught in her nostrils.
…medical glove… …spray can… …ow-w-w… …stuff really stings… …what’s he doing…?
She reeled back. He jostled into the apartment, returned the spray can to his coat pocket, grabbed her hair with the same hand and spun her half around. He brought the other hand up and around and clamped a cloth dampened with ether over her mouth and nose.
…c’mon…fight…hurts…
…what’s that…gas…
…what’s…
Just as she began to relax and stagger from the ether, he replaced the cloth in his other coat pocket, took two pills from that pocket, forced them to the back of her mouth as she slumped, and covered her mouth again. Still feebly fighting the effects of the pepper she alternately swallowed and blew out of her nose.
He returned the ether cloth to her nose keeping her mouth covered. She sank to the floor. He pulled the cloth away, let her down the floor, and knelt over her to watch. After a minute, she relaxed, asleep.
He opened her mouth.
Good, swallowed the pills. …now… …step by step… …no mistakes…
He placed a prescription bottle of the same medication as one of the pills into the medicine cabinet. The other pill was a gel capsule of liquid 1,1,1-Trichloroethane that metabolized fast and would disappear after it killed her.
He went to her bedroom, turned down the bedclothes and returned to the sleeping woman. He removed her robe and then fully lifted her and struggled to carry her to the bed.
…this was easier in years past…
He placed her in the bed without covering her. Then he went to the small kitchen, dampened a washcloth, and returned. He carefully washed the face to remove the capsaicin from the pepper spray. He placed the washcloth and ether cloth in a plastic bag from the breast pocket of his suit and put them in his coat pocket.
Returning to the medicine cabinet, he looked in vain.
…no Q-tips…? …what woman doesn’t have Q-tips…?
…this will do…
He took several lengths of toilet paper and dampened them. He returned to the bed and swabbed the insides of her nostrils over and over again.
…a little spray in the nasal passage…but not enough to worry about…
He deposited the swabs in the plastic bag with the cloths.
…cunning little BITCH… …look at you now…
…fool ME…control ME…I can put anything in that smart mouth now, ANYTHING…
…stay calm, fool… …step by step…
In the closet he found the vacuum cleaner. He removed the catchbag, then reached inside his suit, around to his back, and pulled a catchbag from where it was tucked into his trousers and taped it to the machine’s connection, sealing it.
He vacuumed the woman’s hair, face, and nightclothes. Then the robe and bedclothes he might have brushed against and hung the robe on the hook inside the bathroom door. Next, he vacuumed the routes he followed within the apartment. Then he vacuumed everything a second time.
He left the sweeper in the bedroom and went to the spare room where her computer, an H-P laptop, was located. The light indicated it was running and he sat down. He looked for the switch to turn on the external monitor, found it on the bottom of the screen, and flipped it on.
A
Windows
desktop appeared. He opened a few of the files in “My Documents” to see if any could be records of her suspicions.
…nothing so far…fine…now to take anything off that might be…
He took all of her data discs from the tray by the compute and put them in the plastic bag with the swabs and cloths. He exited
Windows
.
…very organized woman…no extra discs cluttering her life…
He then typed the command “Format c:” and insisted “yes” on each of the pop-up windows, as the computer tried to talk him out of forcing it to commit memory suicide.
While the hard drive formatted, he looked at the few small photos on the shelf nearby.
Mom and Dad…quaint…pathetic…maybe where she’s from it’s Ma and Pa…
When the format was complete, he inserted a boot disc from his pocket and brought the basic functions back to life. He took the
Windows
program disks from the box on the shelf above the computer and reinstalled
Windows.
Finally, he inserted a couple of the data discs, checked the files, and when he found photos, copied those onto the hard drive. He tried another and found copies of Schwab account statements and copied those to the hard drive.
…nothing but innocent files, some with their old dates attached…Windows installation date is nothing…these computer geeks reinstall everything just for kicks…
Next he examined desk drawers and bookshelves for diaries, and notebooks. There was nothing but a Day-Timer on the desk by the phone. The Day-Timer entries were all for household activities.
…terribly organized woman…
From the prior visit, he knew there were no pets.
…little miss goody-goody, job, Mommy and Daddy, no man, and that’s it…
He returned to the bedroom, and removed the glove from his left hand and checked for pulse.
…been almost an hour…she must have died thirty minutes ago…
He put the glove back on and wiped the skin he touched. He placed his gloved right hand over the woman’s mouth and nose and held tight. He watched the second hand sweep around the clock face for two full minutes. No twitch or effort to breath.
