The Adamas Blueprint (18 page)

“Tamponade?” the intern said.

“Let’s find out!” Jake said. “Where’s the pericardiocentesis tray?” If the bullet had nicked one of the coronary arteries, the pericardial sac would be filling with blood, resulting in cardiac arrest.

Jake eased a needle into the pericardial sac and withdrew the plunger. It filled with blood immediately. “Good call,” Jake said to the intern. The pressure of the blood on the heart wasn’t letting it pump. Jake continued to remove the blood. “Where’s Kirk?” Kirk Mannheim was the surgical resident on call.

“I paged him a minute ago, Dr. Hammersmith. Haven’t seen him.”

“No pulse,” said a nurse.

“Damn!” Jake said. “Start CPR. Give me an amp of epi. And get the paddles over here.”

For the next fifteen minutes, they continued to attempt resuscitation, but the blood loss had been too great. After listening for a heartbeat for the required 60 seconds, Jake had to call it.

Time of death was 7:41 PM.

Jake threw his scrubs away and went to break the news to Murray’s son. He was surprised to see that Kevin and Erica weren’t still standing on the other side of the partition. He went to the waiting area, but they weren’t there either.

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Jake stopped one of the orderlies.

“Did you see where this guy’s son and the med student went?”

“I think so. They went outside five minutes ago.” The orderly pointed at the ER loading doors.

Jake walked out onto the ambulance platform, thinking that he would see them smoking a cigarette or crying on the truck’s tailgate. He looked around for a minute, but the dualie was gone. They were nowhere to be seen.

It wasn’t until an hour later when the police came to investigate the shooting that Jake realized Kevin and Erica weren’t coming back.

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CHAPTER 24

Soft lighting bathed the Houston Grill dining room as white-gloved waiters flitted around the room like bees tending the hive. The private dinner club was unusually crowded for a Monday evening due to an oil convention in town for the week. Executives found it a convenient way to elegantly entertain guests while charging it to their companies’ tab and taking the full allowable tax deduction. Many of the groups would later head to one of the numerous “gentlemen’s clubs”

on Houston’s west side for further tax-deductible entertainment.

Clayton Tarnwell not only found the gentlemen’s clubs--actually high-class strip joints--to be useful for convincing business associates to partner with Tarnwell Mining and Chemical, but they were also a frequent source of his overnight companionship. The dinner club was adequate, but Tarnwell was not a gourmet. All he needed was a good steak, which he had finished twenty minutes ago. Since then, all he had been thinking about was getting on with the evening’s entertainment.

Milton Senders, the only one Tarnwell had invited from his company, knew about Tarnwell’s eagerness to get to the gentlemen’s club, so he hadn’t ordered dessert. Unfortunately, the three MORRISON/THE ADAMAS BLUEPRINT

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executives from Forrestal Chemical ate with infuriating leisure, lingering over Bananas Foster and their third bottle of Dom Perignon ‘57.

Eight days, Tarnwell thought, suppressing what would have been an out of place smile. Eight days from now, Clayton Tarnwell would be making his speech to the stockholders of both Tarnwell Mining and Chemical and Forrestal to praise the synergy the two companies brought to the merger. A speech in which he was to announce a revolutionary new process that would take advantage of each of the companies’ skills and make billions of dollars. Of course, he wouldn’t mention that it would also make him one of the wealthiest men on the face of the earth. His skin began to tingle at the thought.

Tarnwell suggested they continue the celebration of the merger at Ladies Inc., his favorite club. Diedre and Pauline were supposed to be working tonight, and he couldn’t resist thinking about how willing and adept they had been the last time he’d had them over to his River Oaks mansion.

As Tarnwell got up from the table, the thoughts of the girls vanished, as did his anticipatory tingling. David Lobec stood waiting for him in the lobby. As usual, Lobec’s expression conveyed nothing about the success or failure of the operation.

“Gentlemen, I have to take care of some other business for a few minutes. Mr. Senders will escort you in my limo to our next destination. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

Tarnwell walked the three staggering Forrestal executives and Senders to the elevator. When they were safely on, Tarnwell headed for the stairwell, followed closely by Lobec.

When they got to the third floor, Lobec said, “This way,” and went through the door to the parking garage.

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After entering the relative security of Lobec’s new Pontiac, Tarnwell got his first close-up view of him. A thin bandage stretched across Lobec’s nose, which seemed swollen, and an ugly blue and green bruise circled his left eye.

“What the hell happened to you?” Tarnwell said.

“Which club?”

“Ladies.”

Lobec put the car in gear and drove toward the exit. “Mr. Hamilton is proving more troublesome than we had anticipated.”

“You mean, this Hamilton kid’s father did this to you?”

“Yes, but I was referring to Kevin Hamilton. He was in Dallas today.”

Tarnwell tensed. “Tell me you got him.”

“I can’t.”

“At least tell me you got Adamas.”

Lobec shook his head.

“Goddammit! Did you even see Kevin Hamilton?”

“En route to Dallas, I received a call...”

“Answer my question.”

Lobec sighed. “Yes, I did.”

“All right,” Tarnwell said. “See how easy that was. Now tell me how you found him.”

Lobec logically stepped through the events leading up to his confrontation with the Hamiltons and the Jensen girl. When he got to the part about Murray Hamilton ramming the Taurus, Tarnwell exploded.

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“You mean, you let them get away because you got snuck up from behind?”

Lobec looked slightly embarrassed, an expression Tarnwell had never seen on Lobec before.

He definitely liked it.

“Although I was concentrating on the two students, I should never have let that happen. It was raining heavily, and neither Mr. Bern nor I could hear his truck approach. I realized only later that Mr. Hamilton must have spotted our Dallas operative, Mr. Vincent, as he drove past. I believe Mr. Vincent was not careful while following Mr. Hamilton. He was parked much too close to the building where we found Kevin Hamilton. I suppose the elder Hamilton spotted Mr.

Vincent and became suspicious because he was watching the LuminOptics building and speaking on a cellular phone. After Mr. Vincent left, he must have seen us pursue Kevin Hamilton and Miss Jensen across the parking lot.”

“You’ve taken care of that idiot Vincent, I assume.”

“Yes, I have,” Lobec said. Tarnwell knew that meant Vincent was now dead for not only failing Lobec, but allowing Lobec to get injured because of it.

“So then what?”

After detailing the shootout, Lobec said, “It was not until this evening that I learned of Kevin Hamilton’s record of marksmanship in high school. He was very efficient in disabling our car.”

“Did you hit any of them?”

“Murray Hamilton was driving the pickup and was the easiest shot. I suspected at the time that we had hit him because the truck was steered into a ditch.”

“You checked the hospitals?”

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“Of course. Murray Hamilton was brought to Community Hospital North and died of a gunshot wound to the chest this afternoon. Kevin Hamilton and Miss Jensen left before they could be questioned by the police.”

“And we have no idea where they are now.” It was a statement rather than a question since Lobec was now here instead of out searching for them.

“That is correct.”

Tarnwell threw his hands up in disgust. “Well, you just fucked this up all the way around, haven’t you?”

“Failure is not something I prize.”

“What now?”

“We continue our operation as planned. We’ve tapped both of their phones in case they try to retrieve messages from their answering machines. Their known friends are under surveillance, and we are still searching for other people with whom they may seek refuge. Tomorrow I will return to LuminOptics and determine why they were there.”

“Have you questioned their friends?”

“We have discreetly attempted to find out if they have knowledge of Mr. Hamilton and Miss Jensen’s whereabouts, but we did not want to raise undue suspicion. I believe that the lower profile we maintain, the better.”

“There’s no time for that. Question all of them. I want you to see to it personally. Tell them you’re the police and that their friends are wanted for questioning. Something like that. I really don’t care. But we need to find them now. If I don’t have the formula for that process by next week, I’m ruined.”

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“In the long run, it is best that we try to be as discreet as possible. If for some reason I am connected to them, it may prove difficult to explain, particularly since I am an employee of yours.”

“I said I don’t care. That’s your problem. We have to find them.”

Lobec continued to protest. “In addition, our resources could be applied better elsewhere...”

Tarnwell banged on the Pontiac’s dashboard. “Maybe I’ve been sending the wrong message to you, David. This is not a partnership. You do what I say. As my chief of security, you can give your advice, once. I’ll listen. But I am the boss. I make the decision. Is that perfectly clear?”

“Of course, Mr. Tarnwell.” Lobec pulled to a stop inside the Ladies Inc. car port, which glittered with light. Porsches and Mercedes lined the most visible valet parking spots.

A doorman opened Tarnwell’s door and welcomed him by name. Tarnwell didn’t acknowledge the man or get out.

“David, I bought you because you produce results. Therefore, I expect results. You’re too much of a professional for all of these excuses. In fact, you should feel a little degraded.”

Another embarrassed look from Lobec, but this time almost controlled. Tarnwell smiled inwardly.

“You can be assured,” Lobec said, “that Mr. Hamilton and Adamas will not elude me again.”

Tarnwell clapped him on the shoulder. “You sure know how to sweet talk me.” He unfolded his towering frame from the Pontiac and saw the posters advertising this week’s main attraction, a nightly performance by Diedre and Pauline. Even though Adamas wasn’t in the bag, at least he MORRISON/THE ADAMAS BLUEPRINT

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had something to look forward to. Again, Tarnwell felt an overwhelming urge to smile. This time, he did.

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CHAPTER 25

Erica turned up the truck’s fan, hoping to speed up the evaporation of water from the truck’s upholstery. The first thing she and Kevin had done after leaving the hospital was to head for a self-service car wash and spray the blood out of the interior with a high pressure hose. Even though they had vacuumed up most of the water, and after 18 hours of drying, the seats were still squishy.

Since the car wash, they had been driving toward Ted Ishio’s house in Blacksburg, Virginia, stopping only to gas up the thirsty Chevy pickup. Most of the drive had been spent with one of them driving while the other slept. It was Erica’s turn at the wheel now, and Kevin dozed, his head against a pillow they had bought for the trip. Meals consisted of fast food sandwiches, fries, and soft drinks dispensed from drive-through windows. Erica grew tired of the greasy fare, but like Kevin, she wanted to put as much mileage between them and Texas as they could. The prospect of getting a more balanced meal at Ted and Janice Ishio’s home almost made her drool.

As they crossed the border from Tennessee into Virginia, a sign on I-81 indicated only 105

miles to Roanoke. Kevin had told her earlier that Blacksburg was about 45 minutes southwest of Roanoke. Out of their 16 hour trip, they had about an hour and half to go.

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Erica looked at the fuel gauge. The 30-gallon tank was still half full; she’d be able to drive the rest of the way there easily.

She didn’t want to disturb Kevin, who had been unusually silent during the parts of the trip when they’d both been awake. His silence was beginning to worry her because she didn’t know how to gauge his reaction to his father’s death. She had spent more time with him in the last four days than anyone else since her ex, and in that time they had become quite close. Even when they had been hiding out on Sunday, they had laughed a lot, telling jokes to pass the time. Now he was withdrawn, retreating from her contact.

Which made her wonder about something else. Why he hadn’t tried to make a pass at her during one of the motel stays? Lord knows, she’d given him enough opportunity. Maybe she was being too subtle, although in med school she had never been accused of that. She finally decided that he really was just being a gentleman, and that if the situation arose again, she’d have to make her intentions clear.

A semi came up fast behind them, moving into the passing lane. The minivan in front of it wouldn’t yield, and the truck blasted its air horn. Kevin jerked. In one fluid motion, he opened the glove compartment with his left hand and plucked the pistol from its interior with his right.

He looked around wild-eyed, ready to shoot.

“What the hell?” he said.

“It’s okay! It’s just a truck. Put that away before you shoot me by mistake.”

He calmed almost immediately, sitting back in his seat. “I was dreaming about Barnett and his friend. They began shooting at us. I had the pistol in my hand, but I couldn’t raise it fast enough MORRISON/THE ADAMAS BLUEPRINT

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to shoot back. It just moved inch by inch. It was taking forever. I was so...frustrated. I didn’t know what else to do. All I could do was look at my damn hand not responding.”

She patted his knee, not knowing what to say.

“I want you to learn how to use this,” Kevin said.

Erica was taken aback. “I couldn’t...”

“Yes, you can. It’s easy. You slide the chamber back like this.” He demonstrated the maneuver, popping a bullet out onto the seat next to him. “There's no safety, so all you have to do is pull the trigger.”

“Will you be careful with that,” Erica said, realizing the gun was now ready to fire. “Just put it away.”

Kevin pushed a button with his thumb and the ammunition clip dropped into his lap. It was the full spare his father had kept in the glove compartment. After removing the round from the chamber and reloading the clip with the two ejected bullets, he inserted the clip into the pistol grip, and put the Glock back in the glove compartment.

“We’ll do it tomorrow,” he said.

“No. I don’t care if I never hold a gun. I’ve seen what they do every day for the past three months in the ER. If you want to keep it for protection, fine. But I’m not touching it.”

“Fine.” He rubbed his eyes. “Where are we?”

“We just crossed the Virginia border. How do you feel?”

“Like my neck has been in a vise. Have you got any aspirin?”

“I think so. In my purse.”

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Kevin rummaged around until he found a small bottle of Tylenol. “Close enough,” he said and washed down two tablets with the melted ice from a McDonald’s cup.

“I meant emotionally, how do you feel?”

Kevin said nothing, prompting Erica to wonder if she had done the right thing by prodding him. She was surprised when he finally spoke.

“I feel a lot different than when my mother died. My mother was great. She’s the one who always encouraged me to keep up with school, even when I was depressed about being different than some of the more popular kids. I remember one time when I came home crying because Barney Williams and his buddies beat me up for being a teacher’s pet. She told me that being smart was nothing to be ashamed of, that it was the other kids who should be ashamed for not trying their hardest to do well.

“I remember that because my father was in the room and the next thing he said was ‘Nick, if you don’t stand up for yourself like a real man, it doesn’t matter how smart you are. You’re still a wimp, and wimps don’t get any respect.’ I guess in his own macho way he was just trying to make me stronger, but it made me feel like a loser at the time. The only time I really liked him was when we went hunting together by ourselves. Around my mom or his friends, he always had to act tough, but when we were alone, he was actually kind of a funny guy.” Kevin paused. “If we had only left the LuminOptics parking lot instead of going back for the laser, I might have found out how much he’d really changed. Maybe I should have told him to keep driving instead of turning around.”

“You’re not blaming yourself for that, are you?”

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“Maybe I am a little. There’s no reason to, but it’s hard not feel that way. I know we needed the laser, and looking back on it I probably would have done the same thing. It’s just hard to make yourself really believe that. You probably think I’m heartless.”

“For what?”

“For not crying or grieving like a son should.”

“It sounds to me like you are.”

Kevin didn’t answer, instead going silent again. Erica thought she should keep up the conversation, so she brought up something they hadn’t discussed yet.

“What are we going to do with the diamond when it’s finished?” she asked.

“The one we’re going to make at Virginia Tech? I suppose we’ll give it to the authorities.”

“Which authorities? You mean the police? We haven’t had much luck with them so far.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it. We need someone who will believe us and give us protection. And I don’t think the police are going to believe two poor twentysomethings with a big diamond. They’ll probably lock us up for theft and then try to find out where we got it. Hell, we still don’t even know who’s after us.”

Erica had an idea. “What about the Washington Post? This story is so strange, they might believe it.”

“And by the time the full story comes out, we’ll be dead. They’ll start checking facts and the next thing you know, Barnett and his buddy will be all over us. No, we need someone powerful, someone who has the ability to protect us, and we need the evidence confirmed at the same time.”

Suddenly, Kevin’s face lit up brighter than it had been in days. “I’ve got it.”

“What?”

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“The Washington Post.”

“You just said that was a bad idea.”

“Right, but we are going to be close to Washington.”

“So?”

“Do you know who Frederick Sutter is?”

“The name’s familiar.”

“You still vote in Kansas, don’t you?”

Erica nodded, completely missing what he was getting at.

“Frederick Sutter is the new congressman for the Fourth District in Texas. I met him at an STU awards banquet about five months ago. Apparently, he’s on the Board of Trustees for the university. I sat next to him and we had a nice conversation. He told me to visit him if I was ever in Washington.”

“You want to tell this story to a congressman?”

“Why not? He seemed honest for a politician. Together, I’m sure we can convince him, and if we do, he’d probably be able to get help from the FBI to protect us.”

Erica furrowed her eyebrows. It seemed like an awfully long shot.

“Erica, we are going to get only one chance at this. Once we go to the authorities, these people are going to know where to find us. Our luck has been crappy so far, and I don’t think it’ll be getting any better.”

She digested what he proposed. After several miles, she said, “There’s only one problem with your plan. If we do get in to see Congressman Sutter, how do we convince him that we’re not MORRISON/THE ADAMAS BLUEPRINT

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holding a big piece of glass? I know I wouldn’t be able to tell a real diamond just by looking at it.”

A smile curled the corner of Kevin’s lip. “You know what else is in Washington?”

“What?”

“The Smithsonian.”

* * *

Two hours later, Kevin was carrying the laser through the fifth floor of Jacobson Hall at Virginia Tech with the help of his friend, Ted Ishio. Ted, whose father was Japanese and mother was Irish, had an exotic look strangers found hard to place. He was half a head shorter than Kevin and wore a wind-breaker over a polo-style shirt, the tail of which hung over his jeans.

“I wish I’d thought about getting the cart,” Ted said. “I’m starting to sweat like I was OJ on the witness stand.”

“It’s your fault,” Kevin said, knowing that Ted, who was in great shape, was exaggerating.

“I’ve never heard of anybody wearing a jacket in September.”

“I didn’t either when I was in Texas. I’d never been north of Oklahoma until I came here.

But they say it’s like this all summer.”

Actually, Kevin had been grateful when they’d stepped out of the truck into the cool mountain air. Blacksburg was nestled about 2000 feet high in the Appalachians of southwest Virginia and was protected from the blistering summer heat by the mountains. When they’d arrived at Ted’s house at 10:00, Kevin and Erica hadn’t been out of the truck since Knoxville, Tennessee, where the temperature had been 95, so they were surprised by the 60 degree evening.

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Since Ted and Janice would be leaving early the next morning, Kevin had wanted to start getting the lab set up before they left. At the very least, he had to make sure he had the correct keys for everything and that he knew any idiosyncrasies with the rest of the equipment. Erica, who’d been exhausted from driving, decided to turn in for the night.

“Are you sure you didn’t get the extra heavy model?” Ted asked with exaggerated huffing.

“Oh, quit your whining. You told me it wasn’t far.”

“It’s not.” Ted slowed, pulling a key chain from his pocket. “Here we are.”

They put the package with the laser down, and Ted unlocked a heavy metal door, then opened it and flicked on a light switch. He propped it open with his leg while they picked up the package.

Once inside, Kevin could see why Ted had been so excited about the assistant professor position at Virginia Tech. A huge laboratory, probably 40 feet by 60 feet, housed an impressive array of shiny new equipment. At one end, a row of three Silicon Graphics workstations lined a wall. Normally, the wall and desks would be festooned with all sorts of personal artifacts by the grad students using the lab. Except for a few scattered papers and instruction manuals, the surfaces were empty.

“Nice, huh?” Ted said. “I told you they had only the best stuff here.”

“No students yet?”

“The semester just started this week. All my students are new, and I didn’t want them around the lab until I got back. I wish I wasn’t going, but my paper got accepted at the conference before I ever got the job.”

“Chomping at the bit?”

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“That and the fact that Miami is playing here this weekend. Janice wanted to visit her parents while we were in Minneapolis, so we’re staying there until Sunday. Hey, the faculty gets discount season tickets to the football games. Since we won’t be using ours, do you want them? It’s been sold out for months.”

“I think I’ll be too busy. Besides, I’m not sure Erica likes football.”

“I don’t envy you then.”

“About Erica?”

“No, I mean the renovations to the stadium parking lot aren’t done yet. Everybody’s going to have to park in the commuter lots, one of which is right outside this building. By 10:00 Saturday morning, there are going to be 75,000 rabid Miami and Tech fans in this town.”

“Great. Just what we need.”

“Stay in here and you’ll be fine. Now, let’s take a little tour of my new domain.”

After about twenty minutes, Kevin felt more comfortable in the lab. All of the equipment was familiar to him, and he could have the Adamas process set up by the end of the day tomorrow.

Ted handed Kevin a set of keys hanging from a black Harley-Davidson keychain. Ted pointed to the keys as he spoke. “The first one is to my office. I’ll show you where that is in a minute.

The next one is to the deadbolt on the lab door. This one is to the cabinets over on the far end.

And this one is the key to the building. They lock the front doors around six. The other keys are to rooms you won’t need to get into.”

“Are you sure no one’s going to ask me what I’m doing here?”

“You know what it’s like during the conference. Almost all the professors will be there. The people who are left will just think I’ve got a new student. Say that if anybody asks.”

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