The Other Lady Vanishes (Burning Cove #2)(86)

The panic welled up out of nowhere again. This time it threatened to choke her.

“Are you all right?” Jake asked.

“Yes,” she managed. “Yes, I’m all right.”

She made herself take a detached look at the laboratory. The arched window that Ormsby had shattered when he leaped to his death had been boarded up, but aside from that it was all horribly familiar. She would never be able to forget it, she thought. The workbenches were littered with laboratory glassware of all shapes and sizes. Gauges, Bunsen burners, weighing machines, and various kinds of instruments lined the shelves.

The wooden upright chair where the orderlies had restrained her while Gill and Ormsby forced her to drink the Daydream drug sat in one corner. It looked so very ordinary now.

This time is different, she thought. This time you’re in charge. This time you’re not alone.

“I thought of it as the electric chair,” she whispered.

She was speaking to herself but Jake heard her. He came up behind her and touched her shoulder.

“It’s over,” he said. “You fought them and in the end you escaped. You beat the bastards. Gill and Ormsby are both dead. Conrad Massey is facing bankruptcy and prison. We’re going to find a way to make sure Paxton ends up behind bars. If you ever decide that’s not enough justice and you want him dead, too, that can be arranged.”

She touched Jake’s hand on her shoulder. “There’s been enough death.”

“Just be sure to let me know if you ever change your mind.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that. We’d better get busy. I wouldn’t be surprised if Victor is on the phone now, telephoning the local police. I’m not sure he bought your FBI agent act.”

“And here I thought I played the part so well,” Jake said. He angled his chin toward the office at the back of the lab. “I assume the files are kept in there?”

“Yes. I just hope Gill or Paxton didn’t move them for some reason.”

“Why would they do that? They would have considered this the safest possible place for the files because they assumed they had complete control over the Rushbrook Sanitarium.”

Jake went down the aisle formed by two workbenches and once again used the handle of his gun to shatter the glass pane set into the door. He turned the knob and went into the room.

Adelaide hurried after him. They both looked at the wooden file cabinets arranged against one wall.

“The files relating to the Daydream experiments are in the last cabinet,” Adelaide said, “the one that’s locked. Ormsby used to keep the key in his desk drawer, but I couldn’t find it the night that I escaped so I had to leave my file behind.”

“No problem,” Jake said. “It’s just a small, standard-issue drawer lock.”

He took a firm grip on the drawer handle and yanked hard. Adelaide heard something metallic snap inside the cabinet. The drawer popped open.

Together they looked down at the neatly arranged row of folders.

She searched quickly for her own file. The one in front was marked Patient B. She seized it and opened it.

“This is it,” she said. “This is my proof that they were running experiments on me.”

“Is there a folder for Patient A?”

Adelaide closed her own file and riffled quickly through the remaining folders. She shook her head.

“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.”