Chapter 4



The father and son partnership arrived at a white house with a white picket fence surrounding it. The roof tiles were a blue-grey colour, and the front door was a cobalt shade of blue. Steve pressed the bell twice.

The door opened, and a man in mid forties stepped out onto the porch. He was short, with an eastern complexion and with a thin layer of dark hair on his head. He was wearing a loose shirt and a pair of jeans.

"Mr Fawkler," Steve began, "I'm Lieutenant Sloan, LAPD. I'm here to ask you a few questions."

"What does this concern?" Mr Fawkler asked. "I paid that parking ticket last week."

"It's not about your parking ticket. It concerns some patients of yours."

Mr Fawkler led the two men inside, and brought them a cup of tea.

"Mr Fawkler," Steve said, placing his cup on the coaster on the coffee table, "last week, you treated five patients at your practice. Were they Darren Thompson, Terry Forbes, Christina Morris, Richard Donovan and Donna Bradley?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"Would you mind telling me what you treated them for?"

"They all had a tooth removed. All local anaesthetic injections."

"Did you notice anything strange about the patients during or after the operation?" Mark asked.

The dentist thought about this for a moment. "Apart from Darren Thompson having not returned any of my phone calls about that second tooth being taken out?"

"We'll discuss that in a minute."

"Well, they all seemed to be in more pain than usual when I removed the tooth. They all seemed to grimace. I talked to my assistant about it, but he insisted that the anaesthetic was fine."

"Who is your assistant, and what does he do in your practice?"

"Greg Delaney, and he prepares and administers all the injections for me."

"Why don't you do the injections yourself, Mr Fawkler?" Mark asked him.

The dentist sighed. "I have told people this a hundred times, and each time it sounds more stupid, but I have a big fear of needles. I know, why become a dentist if you fear needles? It's teeth and dentistry that fascinates me, not needles and injections. You see, I travel, and I get a lot of vaccinations for the different places I go to. Some years ago, one of the injections was not quite right, and it almost killed me. I got a strange disease called Crimean Congo Fever. It's rare now, only in parts of Africa and Asia. But when I was vaccinated for it, the dosage was wrong, and I got it. I got such a high fever, and I felt dizzy and I ached a lot. I survived because from somewhere the antidote was found. From then, I have hated injections, including giving them. I get my assistant to do them. I hope you don't find this a lame excuse for not carrying out the parts of my work."

"Not at all," Mark replied. "You have been very helpful."

"How is that?"

"The five patients, along with a doctor at Community General Hospital, contracted what I think is the same disease you had when you were younger."

"What?" Steve and the dentist asked at the same time.

"Steve, the five of them got it through the anaesthetic. Jesse got it from the blood on the broken glass."

"Okay," Steve replied, catching on. "Mr Fawkler, where does Greg Delaney live?"

Colin told him, and Mark asked, "When you travel, do you ever bring Greg with you?"

"No," he replied. "But when I get vaccinated, he comes with me."

"When was the last time you were vaccinated?"

"Two months ago. I was going to Turkey."

"I know this could be difficult to remember," Steve said, "but was Greg with you all the time?"

"He disappeared once to go to the bathroom, but I thought it was strange that he had to go again the moment we got back to the surgery."

"He has got to be our man," Steve said.

"We aren't quite done yet," Mark replied. "I think we owe Mr Fawkler an explanation. You see," Mark said, seeing that Steve was hopping, ready to go and get Delaney, "all five of your patients were admitted to hospital the same day they were operated on. They have the same symptoms that you seem to have had. I believe that when you were immunised, Greg probably stole some of the vaccination bottles, and injected the disease into the patients along with some of the local anaesthetic."

"But the patients, are they all right?"

"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr Fawkler, that two of them have not made it. Richard Donovan and Terry Forbes both died yesterday."

Mr Fawkler lowered his head, and then said, "There are others still to be saved?"

"Yes, four. Three of your patients, and one of the doctors at CG who contracted the disease."

"Well, I will find you the antidote. It will take me about an hour at best. I know a friend, a biochemist, that has an antidote to every know disease to man. It will not take long to get them. I will see you at the hospital soon."

"Thank you, Mr Fawkler. You've been a great help. Okay Steve, we'll go now."



When Steve was driving along to Greg Delaney's house, Mark received a call from Amanda.

"Hey Amanda," Mark answered the call, "what's up?"

"Mark, have you caught them yet?" Amanda asked.

"Not yet, we're on our way. Why?"

"I got the results from Donovan's autopsy, and I've found out what the disease is. You're not gonna believe it…"

"Crimean Congo Fever?" Mark hazarded a guess.

"How do you know?"

"We've just had a word with the dentist."

"And he's not the guy behind this?"

"No, it's his assistant Greg Delaney."

"Well are you going that way now?"

"Yes, we are. Amanda, could you do me a favour, please?"

"Anything, Mark. What is it?"

"If a man called Colin Fawkler comes into the hospital, meet him and direct him to the patients with CCF. He'll have the antidote, or if he doesn't, he'll have an answer why."

"Okay Mark," Amanda replied.

Mark put the phone down as Steve parked the car outside the address.

Steve rapped irritably on the door. "Delaney?" he called. "Police! Open up!"

Mark skulked around the back of the house.

"No one home," he reported, joining Steve who was now looking through the front window. "Back door is unlocked, though."

"We'll need a warrant," Steve sighed. "But I am not waiting around to get one."

"Great minds think alike," Mark chuckled as they headed into the house.

After five minutes of searching, Mark stumbled upon something extraordinary in the basement.

"Steve!" He called up the stairs. "You'll wanna take a look at this."

Steve headed down the stairs, and stepped into what could only be described as a chemistry lab.

"This has got to be the guy," Steve said, staring at the equipment.

"I've got an idea of what he has done," Mark said. "It's complicated, but this guy is probably a professional. You know how some diseases are caught some ways, like a cold is caught through the air, and glandular fever through drinking or eating with the same utensils. Well, I don't know how you would usually catch this disease, but this guy seems to have mutated it so that one can only catch it if it is entered into the system. In this case, Jesse got it from touching the blood on the broken glass."

"How do you know?" Steve asked, bewildered. "I mean, is that possible?"

"I don't know that, but I am guessing that it is possible. He would have done it because he would not want to catch it himself. I am also guessing that he would need all this equipment to do it."

"But, what is his motive?"

"That is something we can find out later."

The pair continued to search the house. Steve went upstairs, and noticed something in the trashcan when he opened the bedroom door.

"A suction shoe?" Mark asked in surprise.

"A broken one," Steve said.

"Not one of your usual household items," Mark pondered. "Unless you climb up walls for a living."

Steve gasped. "He wasn't seeing things!"

"What?"

"This morning, Jesse thought he saw some guy climb through his window and climb out again. I told you that I thought he was being delirious. If there are no other pads like this in the house…"

"Then Jesse is in trouble!" Mark finished.

After a quick search, they found no trace of any other wall-climbing equipment. "Steve, we have to get to the hospital, and fast!" Steve did not need to be told twice. They exited the house, got back in the car, and were speeding along to the hospital.