“No,” she said. “I recognize some of these other files, though. They are the records of my father’s research, the files that went missing after he and my mother were killed in that explosion.”
“We’ll take your file and anything else we can carry out in this briefcase,” Jake said. “I want to know what the hell was going on here.”
Adelaide scooped out an armful of files and gave them to Jake, who stuffed them into the briefcase. When the drawer was empty, he fastened the case, straightened, and went to the desk.
“What are you looking for?” Adelaide asked.
“I have no idea.” Jake snapped the lock on the center desk drawer. “Here we go. This might be interesting.”
He took out a leather-bound notebook.
“What is it?” Adelaide asked.
“Looks like Ormsby’s appointment book and daily calendar.” Jake opened the book and flipped rapidly through the pages. He stopped. “Here’s the last entry. It’s a note about the need to prepare a dozen vials of Daydream. The date is the same day you escaped.”
“The perfume bottles that I saw on this desk that night,” Adelaide said. “The killer took them. They were full of Daydream, not the usual drug.”
“That’s how Paxton came by the Daydream he’s been using in Burning Cove.” Jake did not look up from the appointment book. “Damn,” he said very softly. “It’s all here, Adelaide. Names, dates, all the details of the drug operation they were running out of this place. This is everything we need to tie Paxton to the ring.”
The howls and moans on the floor below escalated sharply. The eerie, mournful chorus reverberated up the stone staircase. Adelaide shivered.
“The patients are becoming more agitated,” she said.
She knew the dreadful cries would only get worse before the orderlies managed to calm the wretches in the cell-like rooms.
Jake closed the appointment book with an air of grim triumph. “Ormsby’s note says that Paxton ordered the dozen vials of Daydream. It’s all clear now. I’ve been trying to figure out the link between Rushbrook and Madam Zolanda and Thelma Leggett. I couldn’t understand how they came to know each other. Gill worked here at the asylum. Zolanda lived in Hollywood. It’s not as if they would have moved in the same worlds. Paxton is the connection.”
“That makes sense,” Adelaide said. “He’s a Hollywood doctor. He would have known about Zolanda’s psychic business. I wonder how Paxton and Gill met.”
Paxton spoke from the top of the laboratory staircase.
“I’ll be happy to answer that question,” he said. “Gill and I met in medical school.”
Startled, Adelaide swung around. Paxton took a few steps into the laboratory. He had a gun in his hand. It was aimed at her but he spoke to Jake.
“The orderlies told me that you were armed,” he said. “Put the gun on the floor. One false move and I’ll shoot Adelaide.”
Chapter 48
“Take it easy,” Jake said. “My gun is in a shoulder holster. I’ll have to reach inside my coat.”
“Get it,” Paxton said. “Slowly. Put it down on the floor. One false move, Miss Blake dies first.”
Jake took out his gun and crouched to set it on the floor. Adelaide caught a flash of lapis blue in his hand. She realized he had palmed his fountain pen when he reached for the pistol.
Paxton looked at Adelaide. “Kick it over here, out of Truett’s reach.”
She used the toe of her shoe to nudge the gun out of the office doorway. Her handbag containing her pistol was sitting on the edge of the desk. The weapon might as well have been a thousand miles away.
“Good girl,” Paxton said approvingly. “Now, both of you, come out of the office where I can get a clear shot if I need one.”
“Do as he says,” Jake said quietly. He did not take his eyes off Paxton.
Adelaide moved first. Jake followed. Together they faced Paxton.
“You’re the reason the patients suddenly got so agitated a few minutes ago,” Adelaide said. “They recognize you. They know you’re a murderer, don’t they? You were the man in the surgical mask who frightened Ormsby so badly he jumped out the window.”
“I spiked Ormsby’s coffee with some of the drug,” Paxton said. “When he started hallucinating, I followed him up here, lit a Bunsen burner, and aimed it in his direction. His mind did the rest.”
“You killed all of them,” Jake said. “Ormsby, Madam Zolanda, Thelma Leggett, and, last night, Gill.”
“I can take credit for all of them except Zolanda,” Paxton said. “Leggett is obviously responsible for that. She evidently was tired of playing second fiddle to the psychic to the stars.”
“You tried to murder us, too,” Jake said. “Where did you get the expertise with dynamite?”
Paxton gave him a thin, icy smile. “Don’t you know? I’m a hero of the Great War. Dynamite was everywhere on the battlefields.”
“You murdered all those people because you wanted to control Daydream,” Adelaide said. “But how will you produce it without Ormsby and a lab?”
“In my own lab, of course. The drug is still in the experimental stage, but I’m sure I can perfect it. I’ll use transients and vagrants for my test subjects this time—people no one will miss.”
“You’re a fool,” Jake said. “And you’re too late.”
“What are you talking about?” Paxton demanded.
“Didn’t the orderlies tell you? I’m with the FBI. Special Agent Jake Truett.”
“Yeah, the orderlies said something about that, but you lied to them,” Paxton said. “You’re not a government agent. You’re just a retired import-export businessman who is pals with Luther Pell, a guy with mob connections. Somehow the two of you found out about Daydream. You’re after the formula. Admit it.”
Paxton was trying to sound sure of himself but Adelaide thought he looked uneasy. She wondered if the unholy din of the screaming, howling patients was starting to affect him. The cries of a ward full of doomed souls were enough to rattle anyone’s nerves.
She took her attention off Paxton long enough to look at Jake. He appeared far too relaxed. He was almost lounging in the doorway of the office. She realized he was watching Paxton’s eyes, waiting for something—anything—to distract the doctor. The dark tide of wails and shrieks from the ward was having an impact, but more was needed.
“I’m on the trail of the drug,” Jake said, “but I’m working for the government. Ormsby tipped off the FBI months ago. We’ve had agents watching Gill ever since, but things got complicated after Miss Blake escaped. Like you, we had to find her. That took time.”
“I’m not buying that story,” Paxton said. “Not for a minute. Why would Ormsby go to the FBI?”
“That’s easy,” Jake said. “He traded the information about Daydream and the illicit drug operation here at Rushbrook in exchange for the promise of his own lab. It’s all right here in this appointment calendar. Evidently he was tired of being at the beck and call of what he termed a couple of shady doctors who had no respect for serious science.”
“Stop lying,” Paxton raged.
But Adelaide could tell that Paxton was starting to believe Jake’s story.
“By the way,” Jake continued, “the FBI is going to be the least of your problems. If anything happens to Adelaide and me, Luther Pell will be on your doorstep long before the government men get there. Or maybe he’ll just send someone to deal with you. As you said, he’s got connections with some very dangerous people. He can contract out that kind of work.”
“You’re making this up as you go along,” Paxton hissed. “Give that appointment calendar to Adelaide.”
Jake hesitated.
“Do it now,” Paxton said. “Adelaide, bring that calendar to me. Now, you stupid bitch.”
Jake held the calendar out to Adelaide. At the same time he let her catch another glimpse of the elegant fountain pen he held in his other hand.
She tried to signal that she got the message, but she was not sure if he understood. She took the calendar and started down an aisle formed by two long workbenches.
Jake needed a distraction.