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“Give us something valuable, and I won’t kill you,” said Nine, folding his arms across his chest.
“You said you already know who’s doing this! How am I supposed to help you?”
“Humor me. Tell me what you know.”
“Look, all I know is that the Drs. Shaw are responsible for everything.”
“Doctors? Plural?” frowned Ghost.
“Yeah. The old man is as whacked as the kid. I was a psych student at Loyola. After taking a class with Shaw, Sr., I thought the guy was pretty radical, but I took a class with Shaw, Jr. He was even more radical. They often talked about Dr. Duarte Vieira, a forensic doctor. He worked with international agencies to uncover and condemn physical torture and psychological torture.
“In the class with junior, he talked about Vieira finding this room full of people being questioned in Abuja, Nigeria. The room should have held six people max. But there were more than forty. Most had festering wounds on their feet. Shot. It was an attempt to show them what would happen if they didn’t cooperate. He was forced to remove several legs, operate on others, and still others were traumatized to silence.”
“What did Shaw, Jr. say to that?” asked Gaspar.
“He said they didn’t let it go on long enough. That had they kept the ‘candidates’ hidden, they could have continued with the experiment, showing how they would either break or become stronger. I went to the chief of the department, telling him what I heard. I didn’t realize at the time that they were father and son,” he frowned. “It got me kicked out of the program in spite of my high GPA.”
“So, the father is in on this as well,” nodded Angel. “Well, I made a promise that I would go back and kill him if I found out he was helping his son. I mean to keep that promise.”
“Didn’t he say he’d be willing to interview these kids, help with them if we needed it?” asked Max.
“He did,” smirked Angel. “I’d say let’s play to his ego. We’ll get him and then find his spawn.”
“Did he ever say why he tattooed the kids?” asked Ian. “I mean, if he had the younger men with him, he could have easily just kidnapped them.”
“They had this weird belief that if the kids got tattooed willingly by some guy on the street that they wouldn’t tell their parents, and they could prove that they wanted to be in their ‘gang.’ That’s what they called it. A gang. Not a fucking experiment.”
“What’s the name of the other grad student? We know one was killed. Who is the other one?” asked Ghost.
“Gordon Vivier. He’s born and raised in this area. Not very bright, but the Drs. Shaw told him he’d get a passing grade if he did this.” They could hear Max whispering on the phone. Then there was silence. Turning to the group, he grinned.
“Riley got him. He’s on his way.”
“One more thing,” said Spire. “I know what he’s afraid of.”
“Dr. Shaw?”
“Yes. Who is this?” said the strained voice.
“Dr. Shaw, this is Dr. Riley Neill. I was there with some colleagues the other day, telling you about the incident with the teenagers that got involved with your son.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, my dear. My apologies. As you can understand, I’m quite strained by the entire incident. Not myself.”
“I do understand,” she said quietly. “I was going to ask you for some help debriefing these kids and getting them desensitized, but I understand if it might be too much for you.”
“No! I mean, no. I’d love to have something to distract me. Tell me where to meet you,” he said anxiously.
“There’s a café on River Road, near Lafitte. I’ll send you directions. Once you’re there, text me, and someone will meet you to bring you to our facility.”
“Perfect.” He hung up the phone, grabbed his keys, and raced out the door.
“Well?” asked Max.
“Hook, line, and sinker.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“I’m on my way there now,” he said to his son. “Maybe this mess you’ve created will work out for us. If I can see how the kids are doing, then I can probably get enough detail to finish the study, and we can write the paper.”
