Typo Squad, page 11
part #1 of Typo Squad Series
“I’m not sure that’s any of your concern,” Thea piped up. “If Dick wants to visit his brother, why does the reason matter?”
Doctor Paye leaned back in her chair, studying Thea over her dark-framed glasses. Then she turned to Dick. “Mister Shonnary, I’ve been working with Chicago for the past eighteen months, and in that time we’ve made what I believe to be significant progress. We’ve also gotten close. He’s trusted me with a lot of his most significant concerns and fears.”
“It was my understanding that none of the doctors here had been able to reach my brother on any level,” Dick said. Now he had the tone of accusation. “I wonder how you were able to do so.”
“Well,” she replied, “some doctors just have a better rapport with their patients. And frankly, some doctors are more skilled than others.”
“So that’s how you reached him?” Thea said with a grin. “Your skills?”
The doctor’s eyes narrowed. Thea’s grin grew ever wider.
“Look, I appreciate what you’ve done for my brother,” Dick said, “but we’re wasting time here. I need to see him.”
“Frankly, Mister Shonnary, I don’t feel that’s in Chicago’s best interests,” Doctor Paye said baldly.
“Why not?”
The doctor seemed to be weighing her words carefully. “Normally I wouldn’t be able to discuss these matters because of doctor-patient confidentiality,” she said. “But in this case, and since you’re family, I’m going to make an exception. I believe seeing you could undo much of the work I’ve done in my time with him. You see, he blames you for his being here.”
Dick’s lips tightened. The words he spoke at Merriam’s bar came floating back to him. It was my fault. He never wanted this life. I talked him into it.
“I’m afraid,” she continued, “Chicago feels that as his older brother, you should have tried to dissuade him from joining Typo Squad. If you had, he could’ve lived a long and happy life, far away from Fula Ord.”
“There’s no way I could’ve known what was going to happen to him,” Dick said defensively. “When you join Typo Squad, you know the risks and you accept them. Chicago was no different.”
“That may well be, Mister Shonnary,” Doctor Paye said. “But as his physician, I need to do what’s best for Chicago. And I believe seeing you will cause him unnecessary stress and mental anguish. I’m afraid I have to deny your request.”
“And I’m afraid you have no jurisdiction in this matter, doctor,” Dick said, his temper rising. “I’m his only living relative, and you have no legal grounds to keep me from seeing him.”
“Has anything I’ve said here gotten through to you?” the doctor replied. “I’m telling you that you could cause him significant developmental setbacks. Is that what you want for him?”
“Of course not. But I’m trying to stop a mass murderer, and Chicago is the only lead I have.”
The doctor’s brow furrowed. “What possible information could he have that would be relevant?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well then what led you to him in the first place?”
“We have . . . an informant,” Dick said at last. “She told me to come visit him, but didn’t say why.”
“And on the strength of that, you want me to let you see him?” Doctor Paye scoffed.
Dick took a deep breath. “Look. I realize it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but we’re grasping at straws here, and I feel we may be running out of time.”
“I’m sorry, Mister Shonnary—” she began, but he cut her off.
“Five minutes,” he said. “Just give me five minutes with him. Then we’ll go, I promise. Please.”
Ten minutes later, Dick and Thea sat in the institution’s drab cafeteria. The cracked plastic chairs and shabby linoleum tables reminded Dick of the public schools he’d attended in his youth. There were no patients, but a handful of white-coated orderlies sat at a nearby table, talking softly.
A door behind them opened, and Doctor Paye appeared, leading a tall, disheveled, shuffling figure into the room. Dick stood, marveling at the difference in his brother.
Chicago had always been a broad, solid man with skin that looked perpetually tanned and a shock of thick black hair. Now he was thin, not just in his body but in his arms, shoulders, and face. It was as though the man Dick had known had been drained. His hair stood up in every direction, and had gone a bright white at the temples. His skin had paled under the fluorescent lights, and looked like it no longer fit his skull properly.
Doctor Paye guided Chicago to a chair at the table. Dick sat down as well. Thea squeezed Dick’s shoulder reassuringly.
Chicago was looking around the room, but mostly at the ceiling. He carefully avoided looking anywhere in Dick’s general direction. An awful silence built between them.
“Hey, Chicago,” Dick said at last.
“Chicago,” his brother croaked. “Third most populous city in the United States. Derived from a French rendering of the Native American word shikaakwa, meaning ‘wild leek’ in the Miami-Illinois language. Good hockey team.”
“Yeah,” Dick said, smiling in spite of himself. “But I don’t mean the city Chicago. I mean you. Chicago. Do you know who I am?”
“Richard Shonnary,” he said without hesitation. “You prefer Dick. Running joke.”
“Good,” Dick said.
“And that’s Thea Saurus,” Chicago said, pointing at Thea, but not looking at her. “She likes blueberry Pop-Tarts. Her tic is that she comes when she sees a typo.”
Dick, Thea, and Doctor Paye exchanged glances.
“How did you know that?” Dick asked incredulously.
“I know what I know,” Chicago said airily, still looking around the room.
“Listen, I don’t have much time, and I need to ask you about something,” Dick said.
“Yeah,” Chicago said. “Anton Nym.”
Dick felt a painful surge of adrenaline hit his veins, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. “That’s . . . that’s right. What do you know about Anton Nym?”
Chicago finally swiveled his head down and looked Dick dead in the eyes. He had a sudden focus, an intensity that Dick hadn’t seen since they were both very young men.
“You’ll never catch him,” Chicago said simply.
“Why not?” Dick said.
It all happened in a heartbeat. Chicago jumped up, kicked over his chair, and pushed Dick down on the linoleum by the lapels of his jacket. His eyes were wild, bulging, and spittle flew from his lips.
“Because he’s too smart for you!” Chicago screamed. Dick heard the squeaking footsteps of the orderlies coming toward them and random voices shouting.
“He’ll ruin you!” Chicago continued. “He’ll destroy everything you’ve worked for! And there’s nothing! Anybody! Can do about it!”
Chicago was yanked roughly off of him and dragged backward. As quickly as the rage had come on him, it was gone, and he was once again the calm, placid patient who had entered the room only minutes before.
“Please escort Mister Manuel back to his room,” Doctor Paye breathlessly instructed the orderlies on either side of him. “I’ll be there shortly.”
The trio left, and Thea helped Dick to his feet.
“Well?” Doctor Paye said, her breathing fast. “Satisfied?”
“Not by a long shot,” Dick said. “There’s no way he could’ve known those things. Someone in here has been feeding him information.”
“To what end?” Doctor Paye said. “If you hadn’t come here today, what was he going to do with all that he knows? Post it in a blog? Leak it to the press? You saw him. He’s only now coming back from the damage he suffered. All I can say is that I hope you haven’t caused a permanent regression. Now if you don’t mind, I have matters to attend to. You can show yourselves out.”
She left without another word.
In the driveway a few minutes later, Dick stopped next to the SUV to confer with Thea.
“What do you think?” Thea asked.
“I have no idea what to think,” Dick said. “But there’s something going on here. I just don’t know how we’re supposed to find out what it is.”
“Well,” Thea offered, “Miss Information said she’s got another message for you, right? Maybe now it’s time to find out what it is.”
Dick smiled at her. “That’s an excellent idea.” He dug out his phone and called Miss Information’s number.
“Hello, Dick,” the sultry voice on the other end said. “Miss me already?”
“Like I miss my tonsils,” Dick replied. “You’ve got another message for me?”
“Oh yes.”
Silence on the line.
“Well?” Dick prodded.
“I’m afraid I can only give it to you in person, Dick,” Miss Information said. “See you soon.”
Dick looked wide-eyed at Thea.
“What?” She sounded alarmed. “What is it?”
“She’s making us go back to Mot Grange,” Dick said incredulously.
“What?”
“Let’s stop by headquarters and get Tanka caught up first.” Dick slammed the SUV into gear, jamming on the gas pedal.
“That fat old whore,” Thea muttered, shaking her head.
They arrived back at headquarters a short while later, and as they passed through the lobby toward Autumn’s desk, they saw Scott Shwiski heading toward them, looking extremely sour.
“Hey there, handsome!” Dick called brightly.
Shwiski looked up and saw them. He sneered.
“What brings you by?” Dick continued. “Forget your Typo Squad Agent of the Month award in your locker?”
Autumn, eavesdropping on the conversation, filled the lobby with her trademark howling laughter.
“I was here to provide my rock-solid alibis,” Shwiski said, his words clipped. He shook his head. “You people really thought I could be him, didn’t you?”
Dick took a step toward him. “You’re lucky you’re not,” he said softly, “or I’d kill you where you stand.”
Shwiski smirked, unimpressed. “Good luck catching him,” he said. “You’ll be seeing me again real soon. Dick.”
He continued on his way toward the main entrance.
“Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!” Autumn cried suddenly. Without looking back, Shwiski gave her the finger, then was gone.
“What an asshole,” Autumn muttered, and returned to her work.
Once inside, Dick was surprised to see the entire team waiting for him and Thea in the office area.
“I thought you were all helping out at the Grammatica,” Dick said.
“We were,” Big said dreamily. “Oh, that’s a cushy gig. I was looking over some copy in my soft fluffy robe and one of the support staff gave me a foot massage and did my cuticles. I’ve been wasting my life in Typo Squad!”
“You’ve been wasting our lives, too,” Ewan quipped.
“I was able to get a hold of Typo Corps down in Escondido,” Tanka told Dick. “They sent up some of their reserves to relieve these guys. But never mind that. What’s going on?”
Dick quickly recounted everything that had happened at Mot Grange and Fula Ord.
“So then why bother sending you all the way over to see Chicago?” Anna asked. “What purpose did it serve?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out,” Dick said.
“We’re coming with you,” Tanka said.
“All right! It’s a caper!” Big exclaimed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They pulled into Mot Grange in the late afternoon. The mansion was quiet and peaceful, all evidence of the revelry from the previous night swept away.
“Mot Grange,” Big said wistfully, getting out of the SUV behind Anna. “I had the single greatest night of my life here.”
“Oh?” asked Ewan, climbing out behind him. “Was it all-you-can-eat buffalo wings night?”
Big scowled at him. “I hate you,” he said plainly. “But yes, it was.”
“C’mon,” Dick said, leading the way to the front doors. He entered the deserted lobby with the team behind him. Bright streaks of late-day sunlight shone across the Persian rugs, cutting them in swatches of light and dark red. The place was silent, but as they made their way further in, scantily clad women began to appear in doorways, watching them with catlike curiosity.
They reached the door that led to Miss Information’s chambers.
“Wait here,” Dick instructed the team.
“Uh . . . yeah, we can do that,” Big stammered as the women who had been watching them now approached with bright smiles. “Take your time.”
Dick made his way through the door. Once again the candles were all lit, casting the room in a soft orange glow. Miss Information lay on her side on the enormous bed, wearing a lacy black dressing gown over matching lingerie.
“What took you so long?” she purred.
“I had to swing by the bank,” Dick said. “Pick up some more hundreds in case you decided to charge me for more tidbits.”
Miss Information pouted. “You make me out to be such a bad girl.”
“My apologies.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re a saint.”
“Oh, now I wouldn’t go that far,” she said, her smile returning.
“So. You have the second message for me?”
“I do.”
“May I have it, please?”
“Thanks,” Miss Information said simply.
“For what?” Dick asked.
“That’s the second message,” she replied. “Thanks.”
“What does that mean?”
Miss Information shrugged. “That’s all he told me, Dick,” she said. “Sorry. That’s all I know.”
Back out in the circular room at the end of the hallway, Dick rejoined the team. He chased off the women who had parked themselves on the laps of Ewan, Big, and Tanka, and gathered everyone in a tight circle to tell them what he’d learned.
“Thanks?” Big said. “She made you come all the way back out here just to tell you that?”
“She’s a unique one,” Dick said. “She always has been. But what does it mean?”
“Okay, let’s go over it,” Anna said. “You came here, and she gave you the first message from Nym, which was ‘See what your brother knows,’ right?”
“Right,” Dick agreed.
“So that drove you to go and visit Chicago in Fula Ord,” Anna continued. “But that turned out to be a waste of time, and then she demanded that you come back here so that she could give you the second message, which was ‘Thanks.’”
Before she’d even finished, Dick’s eyes widened, his face turning a bright pink.
“He wanted to find Chicago,” Dick whispered. He turned to Thea with desperation in his eyes. “He didn’t know where Chicago was, so he used the first message to send me there. He must have followed us. Now he knows he’s in Fula Ord, and he’s had more than enough time to get to him.”
“Oh God,” Thea said. “We led that psychotic bastard right to him. That’s why Nym’s thanking you.”
Dick spun on his heel and ran for the front door. The rest of the team launched themselves after him, exploding out onto the front lawn and heading straight for the SUV. Tanka had his phone out.
“I want every available officer to converge on Fula Ord,” he said. “Have them set up a perimeter. No one leaves. And under no circumstances does anyone go in there until I arrive, is that understood?”
He hung up and nodded to Dick, who had jumped behind the wheel.
“He’ll be okay, Dick,” Thea said reassuringly from the passenger seat. “He’ll be okay.”
Dick nodded, but didn’t look convinced.
Dick floored the gas pedal all the way back to Fula Ord, sirens wailing and lights flashing, with dozens of other police cars joining him, wailing and flashing as his escort. They zipped through red lights and narrowly missed clipping one vehicle after another. The rest of the team bounced around in the back while Thea held onto the passenger side door for dear life, and more than once pumped an imaginary brake.
By the time they all arrived at Fula Ord, the sun had fully set. The place was dark and silent, and the only illumination came from the police lights that bounced off the darkened building. Cops in standard uniform, along with others in riot gear, and still others with automatic weapons, took up their positions and waited for orders.
Dick got out of the SUV and unholstered his weapon. Thea, Big, Ewan, Anna, and Tanka did the same, and they gathered in a small circle on the lawn out in front of the main entrance.
Dick turned to Tanka. “How do you want to do this?”
“Whatever way doesn’t get everyone killed,” he said. “You and Thea take point. The rest of you line up in cover formation behind him. We need to make sure Nym doesn’t have any typo-related surprises before we send the rest of the force in. Dick, keep me updated, okay?”
Dick nodded. “Let’s move.”
They moved into the wide-open front doors and found themselves in the darkened waiting room. Dick peered over the front desk. Both nurses who had been working there were dead, fresh bullet holes in their foreheads. He peeked around the corner. The patient he’d seen earlier grabbing at imaginary butterflies was dead as well.
Dick motioned them forward. The thick steel door leading into the rest of the building was open, and they moved cautiously through it. Flashlights flicked on as they made their way into the main corridor.
The silence was suffocating. Dick moved slowly forward, Thea on his right, the rest of the team moving in behind them.
They came to the first set of patient rooms and Dick held up his fist. Everyone dropped to one knee and assumed a shooter’s stance, their weapons all held at high port. Dick leaned forward, peering into the room on his right. The only light came from moonlight streaming through the bars in a high-set window, but it was enough to see that the old man sitting in his wheelchair was dead. But he hadn’t been shot.
In the faint glow, Dick could see the word CATAGORY scrawled in huge red letters on the wall opposite the victim.
