The Monolith Murders (17 page)

When the D.A. learned who was calling, he wondered why a lieutenant down in the hierarchical police ladder was calling him directly without going through proper channels. Cooper was inflexible on protocol; his dealings had always been with the station’s chief. Cooper felt speaking directly with a subordinate was beneath him unless it was to his benefit; he almost told his secretary to tell Harris that he was busy, in a meeting, or to create some other damn excuse.

But then he remembered that Donna was on the loose again, and he was the prosecutor who had put her away. Cooper felt his eloquence alone was the reason that Donna was found guilty, and he perceived that she would clearly remember him for that. Maybe, he thought, Harris has some information on her or is going to warn me of something.

“Hello, Lieutenant, it’s so good to hear from you. Can I help you, anything at all you understand.”

Cooper was sure that Harris wasn’t calling for help, but only to provide some type of information; otherwise he would never have given Fred such an open ended offer.

“I was hoping you would say that,” Fred said, jumping on the offer. “I need to get a vacant room somewhere so I can have a meeting. It’s going to be a strategy meeting dealing with the capture of Donna.”
 

Cooper was confused. “I guess I can help you; but you have conference rooms available in your own station, don’t you?”

“Yes, but in dealing with Donna I have to be careful; you recall what a danger she was in the past and she’s even a greater one now. Walls have ears, even in our police station. So I was hoping you could help. I’m sure you know what a threat she is to us all.”

Of course the word
all
was intended to include the D.A. Fred was sure Cooper would interpret it that way.

“Yes, Fred, of course, anything at all in the public interest.”

“We need the room tomorrow, around 10 a.m.”
 

“You can meet in the courthouse; in fact you can meet in a courtroom that’s not being used at all tomorrow. You can have it all day if you wish, Fred.”

“Thanks, sir, for your cooperation.”

“No problem, I’m glad to do what I can to help the community.”
 

Cooper thought, damn, I might be on Lang’s hit list; I think I’ll take off for a couple of weeks and do some hunting as far from the state of Florida as possible.

* * *

At 10 a.m. all the participants were seated in the Sarasota courtroom. Fred had warned each to stagger their entry into the courthouse so that the court’s security officers would not suspect that a meeting was about to take place. He knew he was being super-cautious, but he feared that somehow Donna could pick up on his tracks.

Fred started the meeting, “Look, Donna Lang is on the loose, we all know that; we also know she’s a ruthless killer. We need to capture her immediately.” Fred decided he didn’t want to talk about the criticality of time with respect to Donna’s regaining her ESP capabilities. That issue would open the discussion to the monolith, and Fred wanted that matter to be kept secret from as many people as possible for as long as he could.
 

“Ms. Moore, Mr. Schultz told me you have displayed the most refined capabilities of anyone in AU relative to mind reading skills.”

Moore blushed as she said, “Sir, I read about Miss Lang’s escape in the paper; it’s hard to realize that I worked with her when she was at AU and never suspected a thing. Great mind reader I am.”

“I understand,” Fred said. “I don’t know how your unique powers function; but I brought an up to date photo of Donna if that helps.”
 

He handed Moore the photo. She took it, focusing on it for what seemed an eternity.

Schultz barked out an order for Moore to get on with it.

Debra Black intervened. “Look, George, this process is not like making a ham sandwich. These are special people and they need to accomplish their tasks their way; you above all should know that.”
 

Schultz grumbled inaudibly and looked away.

It was obvious to Fred that Moore was quickly losing her ability to concentrate. He said, “Debra is right. I have no idea how you do what you do; but I’ve reserved this court room for the entire day, so take your time.”

Moore continued to concentrate on Donna’s photo; and after a considerable amount of time had passed, Fred observed tears flowing from Moore’s eyes.

“I can’t do it; I just can’t do it,” she said.

“Do you think you might be able to do it later?” Fred asked.

“I don’t know. But I do know that, when I’m upset, all my powers just dissipate.”

Fred glared at Schultz. Damn it, he thought, Schultz has zero decorum, why did I even invite him. Just then, he noticed Ms. Moore nodding to him.

Well, at least she picked up on my thoughts that time, Fred thought.

To the frustration of all those around the table, the rest of the morning produced no results.

As Fred exited the courthouse to a blinding semi-tropical noonday sun, he thought, what the hell do I do now?
 

The next day Fred phoned the D.A.’s office to reserve another courthouse room. The receptionist said, “Mr. Cooper had to leave the area on an emergency—it was rather unexpected; he didn’t tell me the reason for his trip.”

Coward, Fred thought; he’s fearful of retaliation from Donna.

“At any rate,” she continued, “he told me to give you full cooperation in reserving another room at the courthouse. And he wanted you to get back to me immediately if you had any luck capturing Donna Lang. He said he will check into the office frequently while he’s gone.”

The next meeting Fred set up was with Ms. Moore, Ms. Black, and himself. He felt Schultz had the sensitivity of a psychotic drill sergeant, and he didn’t want him indelicately interfering with Moore’s concentration a second time.
 

* * *

Twenty four hours had passed; Fred was hopeful that it would prove to be an adequate time for Moore to get her mental capabilities back. He was thankful Debra would be there since she seemed to deal well with Moore, helping to keep her stress level down.

Moore was smiling as she walked into the vacant court room. A good sign, Fred thought. She wore a purple tee short which said,
I almost had a psychic boyfriend but he left me before we met
. Fred thought, I guess there’s humor inherent in every occupation.
 

Moore asked, “Do you mind if I just try to read your minds first as a warm up test?”

Both Fred and Debra Black said, “No problem.”
 

Moore closed her eyes. “Lieutenant, I believe you’re thinking about Donna Lang and you are extremely worried that she will soon have her ESP powers back and are wondering if you could possibly catch her a second time. I think I picked up on your thoughts easily because I sensed a strong emotional element in you. Somehow, emotion seems to lubricate my mind and it facilitates my functioning as an accurate receiver.”
 

 
Fred said, “You were right on the mark. Good job.”

Moore turned to Black. “Your emotional intensity level makes it easy for me to pick up on your thoughts as well. You’re thinking you shouldn’t be here; you’re fearful you are getting involved in something that will cause you great problems back at the company.”

She paused, “But the company you are thinking of is not AU. It’s somewhere else—the CIA, I believe.”

Black realized that Moore had picked up exactly what she was thinking, but she didn’t want it broadcast to the world. She said hurriedly, “Why don’t we just move on to the subject of Donna Lang.”
 

Moore pressed the issue, wanting positive reinforcement. “Was I correct?” she asked.
 

“Yes, now please move on,” Debra said, showing her irritation.
 

 
Moore was pleased that she didn’t incur the mental block that she had the day before. She was proud of her skills and she didn’t want to fail, especially in the presence of people whom she respected. She concentrated on the recent picture of Donna that Fred had given to her. She had never tried distant mind probing before, and was worried she would not be successful.
 

After what seemed like an endless period of time, she picked up a mental image of Donna. Suddenly Donna’s eyes became hers, and Moore observed in front of her a man gagged, with his hands tied in some way behind him.
 

Suddenly blackness encased her vision; and an instant later she felt a powerful mental shock wave that cascaded through her body. In less than a moment her chair fell backward, almost as if it had been pushed by a powerful force.
 

Fred knelt down next to her. Moore’s eyes were open, her eyelids fluttering. Fred asked “Are you okay?”

No response.

Fred yelled, “My God, what’s happened to her?!”

Black knelt down on the other side of Moore and watched the violent spasms which had now moved to all parts of her body.

“I have no idea, Fred, but I think we need to call 911 right away.”

At that moment the spasms ceased. Moore gradually gained consciousness.
 

“’What happened?” both Black and Fred asked simultaneously.
 

“I don’t know,” she said, “But one minute I was getting a clear image of a man sitting on a couch, and the next all I saw was blackness. Then I felt a tremendous jolt. That’s all I remember.”

“This man on the couch—what did he look like?” Fred asked.

“He had black hair, he was gagged and his hands seemed to be tied. I guess he was in his late 40’s or early 50’s. That’s all I remember.”

Fred said, “I bet that’s our kidnapped Dr. Anderson.”
 

Moore replied, “I didn’t have time to register a good look, but I believe you’re correct. I kind of recall him when he worked at AU; and although I didn’t get a focused look at him just now, I do believe it’s the same person.”

Fred asked, “Can you tell me anything about the setting they were in?”

“I think it was a trailer, the room was very small and I could tell the couch wasn’t full size. The wall behind the couch wasn’t sheetrock either; it was composed of some type of paneling that looked something like wallpaper.”
 

“Could you see anything outside of the trailer?”

“No, nothing, I’m sorry.”

“Well that’s a lead,” Fred stated. “But there are a lot of trailer parks around here.”

 
“Yes,” Black said, “and it’s also possible it’s a trailer sitting on a private lot.”
 

“That’s true, but we have to start somewhere. Up to now I’ve gotten nowhere.”
 

Meanwhile Moore said, “I’m scared, I’m really scared! I’ve never had that type of experience before; it’s terrifying.”
 

Fred saw the fear registered in her eyes. He started to say there’s nothing to be afraid of, but he realized that would be a lie, so he remained silent. But he knew that he would never ask her to try to contact Donna again. It would be like playing roulette with her life.

* * *

Donna had been watching a constantly fidgeting Doctor Anderson trying to find a more comfortable position on the couch. He had been complaining about his confinement, that his dignity had been taken away, and that he was unhappy with the extreme limitations of a small trailer. Donna said, “Enough, enough.” She placed a tight gag in his month to shut him up. At that instant she sensed someone trying to mentally communicate through her. That’s not going to happen, Donna thought, and she responded fiercely.
 

Chapter 28

The day had come for Donna’s surgery. Polish had just come out of their bedroom, fully dressed in a well pressed police uniform.
 

Donna looked at him carefully. “Not bad, Polish, not bad at all except for a few minor things.” Polish was disappointed that she had picked up on what he perceived to be some inconsequential facet of his wardrobe. He had been sure that his uniform would prove effective at the hospital.
 

“What’s the problem?” he asked despondently.
 

“A couple of elements—first you have a Sarasota badge on, you forgot you are going to be the cop from the area in which the prison is situated, so we have to switch that badge to this one.”

Donna removed his Sarasota badge and replaced it with a copy of one from Fort Myers.
 

“Now, that’s better, but we need to change your appearance a bit.”

Donna removed his police cap and carefully placed on his head a bright red hairpiece. “Almost finished,” she said. She then delicately pasted on a thick black mustache whose ends curled upward.

Polish looked in the mirror. “Shit, it doesn’t look like me at all,” he mumbled.

“Of course not, we don’t want it looking like you, Polish; that’s the entire point of this exercise.”
 

“The hair and the mustache don’t look real to me, either.”