Fragmentation Page 6

  Colleen suggested a small restaurant near the apartment. On the way she wept, her blue eyes just filled with tears as she leaned on David’s shoulder.

  Pulling into the parking lot at Buchanan’s Steak House, David kissed her softly as she regained her composure. Buchanan’s was a popular spot noted for excellent steaks that you could cut with a fork. They found a cozy booth near the rear of the restaurant where a rather forlorn looking Colleen suggested a bottle of Merlot and an appetizer dip made with cheese and spinach.

  “Why did that bastard have to ruin such a lovely weekend?” cried Colleen. “He didn’t even take anything, just trashed the place.”

  “Probably an addict looking for cash,” observed David.

  “That’s just it, he didn’t look very much like an addict. He was big and athletic looking, with short hair and wore a golf shirt. I didn’t really get a look at his face.”

  “Anyway, I don’t think he’ll be back.”

  During dinner, Colleen said, “David, I don’t want to sleep there tonight. What if he comes back?”

  “Do you want to come to my place?”

  She kissed him, demurely murmuring, “Yes.”

  They finished eating and went back to her apartment to get some of her clothes for Monday. By 10:15 PM, they were in David’s car headed for his apartment.

  It was 10:30 PM and the place was pitch dark. David felt along the wall for the switch and turned it on. Nothing happened. He went toward the kitchen and tripped over something, cursing. David found the kitchen light and turned it on. They stood frozen in silence for a moment, looking at the room. After a slight pause he said, “Wait outside.”

  Cautiously David went toward the bedroom and finding a lamp that was lying on the floor turned it on. Quickly he surveyed the all too familiar scene. There was no one there, but like Colleen’s apartment, everything was thrown around.

  “David, are you all right?”

  “Yes, it looks the same as your place. You don’t have a jealous old boyfriend do you?”

  “You’re the only boyfriend I’ve had in a while and the other one is married now with two kids.”

  “This is really bizarre. Why would both our apartments be ransacked on the same weekend? Makes no sense.”

  “Maybe they were looking for something?”

  “Like what? I don’t have anything except some tools, a TV, VCR, CD player and my computer. The strange thing is the door was still locked. They must have picked it or they had a key.”

  Picking up his alarm clock, he noticed the smashed face. It said 6:18. He wondered on what day the break-in happened and whether it was in the morning or at night.

  A paralyzing thought struck him; it might not be safe for them to stay at his apartment either. For the moment both of them stood looking at the mess. David said, “We can’t stay here either. It’s not safe.”

  “But where?”

  “Perhaps we can stay in a motel, but definitely not here, not tonight.”

  David assembled some clothing for work and put them into a suitcase. He locked up and they headed back to his car.

  “There are several small inns in the New Hope area; it might be better there.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  They drove to New Hope and found a motel on the western side of town along Route 202. It was almost midnight when they finally fell into bed. Both of them were exhausted and since they had to be at work by 8:30 in the morning, David requested a 6:30 wake up call.

  He must have knocked the phone off the hook, because it was lying on the floor when he awakened at almost 9:00 AM. Colleen was still asleep, lying on her side, breathing softly and looking beautiful. He hesitated and softly kissed her on the cheek. She gave a brief yawn, then smiled and said, “What?”

  “We overslept; it’s after nine already.”

  “Oh,” she sat up quickly, “I guess we are late for work.”

  “Yes, but we have a good excuse. I’ll tell them I can be in by 11:00 AM. What do you think?”

  “Okay, I’ll do the same.”

  David dialed the number at work and asked to speak with George Quinn, his immediate supervisor.

  “George, it’s David.”

  “David, we have been looking for you all weekend. There has been a break in.”

  “I know, I got in late last night and found it.”

  “You were at the lab last night?”

  “No, I mean my apartment.”

  “David, they broke into the lab over the weekend and all the work you did on those samples from that old ship is missing and the place is a mess. Where have you been?”

  “I’ll explain when I get in around 11:00 AM. My apartment was also broken into this weekend.”

  “Please hurry! Mr. Benson is having a fit and Mitchell is on his way over from headquarters.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  “What was that all about?”

  “You’re not going to believe this, but the lab was also broken into and all the stuff on the Aratusa is missing: files, samples and copies of my, that is our, report.”

  She looked at her watch, a Rolex that her father had given her for graduation. “We had better get going if we’re going to make it by 11:00 AM.”

  Colleen called her supervisor who also told her the lab was broken into over the weekend; she had no details regarding anything being taken.

  They dressed for work, checked out of the motel and headed south on Route 32 toward Philadelphia. The morning air was humid and the forecast for the day was for the temperatures to be near ninety. On the way, they stopped at Bill’s Pancake House for breakfast.

  The smell of fresh coffee rose around them as they sat in a booth near the window. They both ordered coffee and a Danish. There was a copy of the Monday morning newspaper left in the booth. Picking it up, David casually scanned the front page: Brutal murder at scrap yard leaves few clues. The story quickly caught his eye.

  He moved around to her side of the booth and said, “Colleen, look at this, it’s DeCosta Scrap Yard. The foreman was murdered. It says, ‘Mario Russo, a foreman at DeCosta Scrap Metals, was brutally beaten and his throat slashed. The incident occurred on Friday evening shortly after they closed. There was no apparent motive. Mr. Russo’s wallet was still in his pocket and the money at DeCosta’s was untouched. Police theorize that Mr. Russo may have been involved in a drug deal that went wrong.’ Can you believe that?”

  “David, we spoke with him last Saturday. What’s going on here?”

  “I’m thinking in some way it’s tied into the metal analysis report I sent in on the Aratusa. Those strands of DNA may be a problem for someone if a murder was committed.”

  “We are not talking about a simple murder here; I mean how in the world did it ever get into the molecular lattice in the first place?”

  “Well, perhaps someone was rolled into the metal, in one of those big roller presses they use in steel mills. Maybe they were pushed into it on purpose.”

  “Could it be where Jimmy Hoffa is?” questioned Colleen.

  “I don’t think so. That old boat was built a long time before he disappeared and anyway, isn’t he supposed to be under the fifty-yard line at Giants’ Stadium in New Jersey?”

  “I don’t know, but we may be in danger. We should have called the police again after we got to your apartment.”

  “We need to get going Colleen.”

  They finished eating and headed down Route 32 to Route 95, got off the exit and turned into the parking lot at Farrell Laboratories. Along the way, they discussed what they would tell their employers regarding their whereabouts over the weekend. Colleen decided to say she was at her parents’ house and David would tell them he was at a friend’s house in the Pocono Mountains. Parking in the rear of the lot, each went int
o their respective buildings.

  “David, Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Benson are waiting for us in the conference room,” indicated George Quinn.

  “Good morning, Mr. Mitchell, this is David Albright. David, I’m sure you know William Benson.”

  Edward Mitchell took charge of the meeting. After asking David if he would like some coffee, he began with some preliminaries.

  “David, can you tell us about the report on the metal for DeCosta Scrap Metals, was there anything unusual about it or the people at De Costa?”

  “I’d say there was. While I was doing the chemical composition of the metal, I found all kinds of things jammed in between the molecular lattice. I showed it to George and he thought it might be organic matter. He suggested I contact someone in the Bio Division to get a confirmation on it. George wasn’t too alarmed and told me it was my job to report on what we found and not to decide how it got there.”

  “Did you talk to anyone in the Bio Division?”

  “Yes, Colleen Gilmore. I showed her the samples and she confirmed there were human Cells and DNA strands woven into the molecular lattice of the steel. She also verified the presence of almost sixty different atoms; some were a part of the steel molecules and others were just there within the lattice.”

  “Then what did you do?”

  “With all of this, I was a day late with the report, so I worked on it on Saturday and had it signed when I finished it Monday. It was too late for the Monday mail pick-up so it went to the Department of the Navy and DeCosta’s on Tuesday morning, the sixth.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes and I don’t know if this is related to the break-in here, but my apartment was also broken into sometime over the weekend while I was away. That’s why I was late this morning.”

  “William, has anyone spoken to this Colleen Gilmore yet?”

  “No, but I’ll have her supervisor send her over.”

  “That wouldn’t be necessary at this time, but maybe later,” replied Edward Mitchell. The police have already been here on Saturday and strangely, the only things that are missing are the files on the DeCosta job for the Navy. There must be more to it; but, thank God, our involvement is only minimal.”

  “Mr. Mitchell, there is one other thing. This morning the paper ran a story about the foreman at DeCosta’s being murdered Friday night after the yard closed. He’s the person I sent a copy of the report to, a Mr. Russo.”

  “Did they say why he was murdered?”

  “It said it might be drug related or something of that nature. Apparently he was beaten first, then, his throat was cut.”

  “I’m not surprised in that neighborhood, it sure sounds like a drug related killing to me.”

  “Anything else?” Everyone was silent. “All right, let’s get back to work and David, by the way, you did the right thing and we do appreciate your coming in on Saturday to finish the report. I guess the rest of this is in the hands of the police.”

  The meeting adjourned around noon. After their bosses left, George told David to report back in after lunch. There was a lot of cleaning up to do. David went to his office and called Colleen.

  “I’ve just been on the grill with Mitchell and Benson.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, actually it wasn’t too bad. Mr. Mitchell is a pretty decent guy, better then William Benson. They asked about you, but I don’t think they will talk to you. I believe they are through with the whole thing. They said it’s in the hands of the police now.”

  “Well, my boss wasn’t too happy about my coming in late, but when I told her about my apartment she felt sorry and said it was okay.”

  “Can you go to lunch?”

  “Yes, how about Florintino’s?”

  “Good, I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”

  David looked at the mess in the lab and shuddered, saying to himself, “Well, it looks like I have plenty to do this afternoon.” He was also feeling hungry, probably because he had eaten only a small Danish at the diner.

  The temperature outside was already up to ninety and inside the BMW it must have been a hundred and fifty. Opening all the windows, he turned the air on high. After a few minutes, it cooled down and David drove around to the front of Colleen’s building where she was waiting.

  Chapter 11

  Defense Intelligence Agency: Monday, June 11.

  Commander Robert Camp was pacing around his office waiting for Chief Petty Officer Doyles to arrive.

  “Good morning sir.”

  “Chief Petty Officer Doyles, what is the status of our project?”

  “The people we used believe they got all of the copies and samples.”

  “What do you mean by believe? Did they get all of the copies and samples? Don’t we know for sure?”

  “Well sir, there was a small problem with the foreman at DeCosta Scrap Metals. He said there was a second set of samples he gave to the metallurgist from Farrell Labs. It seems the original samples were lost at the lab and they needed a second set.”

  “Jesus, they may have requested a second set after what they found, just in case there was some kind of problem.”

  “We thought of that possibility and that’s why our people searched both of their apartments and the lab. We came up with nothing.”

  “Damn it, are you sure they looked everywhere? What about their cars?”

  “Her car was clean, but we didn’t get a chance to look at his. One of our operatives barely missed being caught in the woman’s apartment. After that, they left in his car and didn’t come back. As of right now, they haven’t shown up at work either.”

  “So what you’re saying is, you have lost them.”

  “Yes, we are watching the apartment and when they come back we will be able to check out the other car. If there is a sample there, we will find it.”

  “Okay, the other thing is the mess at DeCosta’s. Now there are police crawling all over the place looking for something and who knows what they will find.”

  “It couldn’t be helped. That Russo guy pulled a gun and they had to take him out.”

  “My sources tell me Mario Russo, the foreman, is some kind of Mafia Lieutenant, might even be the nephew of the local Don himself. If that is so, there is not only going to be the police, but also a bunch of goons crawling around the place. Now how the hell are we going to get that damn tub out of there without raising eyebrows?”

  “It’s a problem sir, but if we have everything; the reports and the samples, a little time will heal the wound. May I suggest we send DeCosta a letter telling them not to scrap the USS Morgan? We could say it’s been reassigned and we will have it removed in the near future.”

  “All right, I’ll think about that and I guess if we have everything, then a little more time won’t hurt. Make sure your people locate the woman and the metallurgist and get a look in his car so we can breathe a little easier.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And one more thing Doyles, see that their apartments are bugged, so we know what the hell is going on.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter 12

  Colleen emerged from Farrell Labs into a humid bath of heat as she ran to the car. Inside the cool retreat, she gave David a kiss and said, “We have to talk. Do you think you could get a few days off?”

  “I might be able to; what do you have in mind?”

  “Well, several things. First, I need to make Angela a key for the new lock since she and Jimmy are up at Split Rock Lodge in the Poconos. I will have to drive up there and deliver it so she can get back into the apartment when they come home. In addition, I’ve been thinking about the Aratusa and in many ways, something seems like it is being covered up, just what, or by whom, I’m not sure. Now for the interesting part; do you remember when I found some note
s about the Philadelphia Experiment in the library that night? Well, I got to thinking an event like the Philadelphia Experiment might account for some of the materials appearing in the molecular lattice, similar to what we found.

  “So what you are saying is, ‘the Aratusa was part of the Philadelphia Experiment’?”

  “Well, it might be something like that.”

  David pulled into the restaurant and valet parked the car. Inside they sat at a small table in the corner and ordered a large pizza with green peppers, two house salads and Cokes.

  “Where were we?” asked David.

  “Well, this is why I wanted you to see if you could get a few days off. Tuesday, we could go up to the Poconos, give Angela the new key and spend the day there. Maybe even get a room at the Split Rock Lodge for the night. On Wednesday, we could drive down to Washington, DC and go to the National Archive. David, under the Freedom of Information Act, we could have access to any information they have on the Philadelphia Experiment or related items, including the Aratusa and the USS Morgan.”

  “Exactly when did you lose your mind?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I must admit all of this is interesting, however, it also seems to me there are some people who are bent on having none of this get out. These people might have even murdered the poor foreman at DeCosta Scrap Metals, not to mention having trashed both our apartments and the lab.”

  “I know, but at least, I do have to get the new key to Angela and a trip there would be great. Split Rock Lodge even has those heart shaped hot tubs.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy into the trip to the Poconos, but you haven’t convinced me that we need to get involved in this thing any more than we already have.”

  “Do you think you could get off on Tuesday and maybe even the rest of the week as well?”

  “I’ll check with George. I still have to put the lab back together. There’s also the little matter of my trashed apartment. Did you forget about that? By the way, did you already get those days off?”