Night of the Creepy Crawlers

CHAPTER 1

Damn it! muttered Dr. Craig Jackson, as the doorbell rang, shattering the nighttime quiet, and dragging him out of a deep and peaceful slumber. He scratched his head angrily wondering who could be coming around bothering him in the middle of night. Craig covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned while glancing at the clock on the nightstand. It was a little past midnight. The young physician exhaled, and then eased himself out of bed trying not to disturb the young redhead curled up there beside him. It seemed that the noisy doorbell hadn’t bothered her in the least--because she still continued to sleep soundly.

Craig opened the door and saw a tall, lean fellow standing on his front porch. The man had a square-cut, clean-shaved face with sunbaked skin the hue of coffee. The surprise visitor quickly entered and extended his hand while patting Jackson on the shoulder.

Hey Doc! I bet you didn't expect to see me tonight, did you?

Craig smiled at his old friend Jake Tanner. The last time he had seen him, he was leaving for an assignment in the Middle East.

Jake, you old dog, this is a pleasant surprise, he said, as he vigorously shook the other man's hand, What are--

Hold on a second, Doc! Jake broke in, I hope you won’t think I've been out in the sun a little too long, as he flipped the light switch plunging the room into almost total darkness. Craig was too surprised by his friends unexpected action to voice a compliant.

Don't worry old buddy, I haven’t gone crazy, smiled Tanner.

Craig could only see Jake dimly as he went to the window and peered out into the moonlit landscape.

I guarantee you that I’ve got good reasons to be cautious, he added, "Well, I guess it’s okay--I don't see anything that looks suspicious. Maybe I was lucky and got here first, this time."

Tanner closed the curtains carefully and switched the light back on, Am I being mysterious enough for you? he laughed, and glanced at down at the open, medical book lying on the coffee table, I see you’re still busy with your studies.

Yes, I’m afraid it’s an occupational hazard. There’s always something new happening, and I have to stay up to date.

Craig studied his friend appearance, but there was nothing to suggest that he was suffering from delusions. His eyes were bright and clear. He noticed that Tanner’s face had changed and there was a somber look that had crept across his face.

I thought you were on an assignment in the Middle East? inquired Craig.

I was, he replied, lighting his cigar, But, something came up and I was called back here on special assignment.

Special Assignment? repeated Craig, So, your reassigned here in Washington, then?

Yes, I’m working directly under the President, and he’s asked me to put together a special anti-biological terrorism unit. It's been a real mess since the 9/11 attacks last year, and I usually don’t know where I’m going to be from one day to the next.

There was something ominous in the Federal agents words and actions that seemed to indicate something dire could be happening in the D.C. area. Craig looked Tanner squarely in the eyes, Okay, give it to me straight, Jake. What’s the hell is really going on here?

The other man suddenly stood up and began taking off his jacket. He then rolled back his left shirt-sleeve, and revealed a wicked-looking wound in the fleshy part of his forearm. It was healed, but curiously striated for an inch or so.

Ever seen a scar like this? he asked.

No, I can't say that I have, Craig confessed, But, it certainly appears to have been deeply cauterized.

Yes! It was very deep! he explained, A barb steeped in the venom of a cobra got me there.

Craig felt a shiver run coldly through his body at the mention of the deadly, venomous reptile. The young doctor had a deep respect for creatures that bite, after spending a couple of months down in Louisiana, helping out after the Katrina hurricane had devastated the area. During his short time there he had treated numerous patients suffering from a manners of snake and insect bites.

There was only one treatment for it, he continued, as he rolled his sleeve back down again, "and that was with a sharp knife, a match, and some gun power from a .45 caliber cartridge. I lay on my back in a filthy Iranian hellhole, raving, out of my head for over three days. I would still be there now, rotting in the heat, if I hadn’t acted quickly. But, here's the important part. What happened to me--was no accident!"

You mean--? gasped Craig.

Yes, there was a deliberate attempt on my life, and now I’m here tracking the man who was responsible. He's the fiend who extracted that venom from the poison-glands of the snake, prepared the arrow, and then sent one of his agents to shoot it at me.

Do you know who the fellow is?

"Yes, he’s a Middle Eastern terrorist, and unless my calculations are wrong, he is now currently hiding some place here in Washington like some rat in a sewer. The murderous psychopath is extremely dangerous and specializes in using biological weapons to assassinate people. Doc, I’ve traveled from Iran, not just as part of my job with the Federal Government, but for my own personal reasons--I want to get my hands on that bastard."

Craig didn’t know what to think. His mind had been tossed into a sort of mental chaos by the extraordinary statements he had just heard. Jake Tanner was talking about a dangerous terrorist operating here in his own home town—the nation’s capital. There was danger of the worst kind suddenly being introduced into his peaceful life.

I'm wasting precious time, said Jake, as he climbed to his feet, "I came here let you know that you've been reassigned to the special team I’m putting together. You are the newest member of the President’s Special Anti-Biological Terrorism Task Force. There’s only going to be about half a dozen people in this new unit—me, you, and four other special agents. I was lucky to be able to get even that many men. The Afghanistan War and the 9/11 terrorist attacks have stretched government resources almost to the breaking point. There's a Police Chief by the name of Knox, who will act as liaison between our unit and the Washington Police Department. He will work with us, and provide emergency police support when ever we need it—otherwise we are on our own.

The FBI has already been notified about your transfer. I really need your medical expertise, and your one of the few people that I can really trust. I need somebody close to me that’s equal to the terrible task that lies ahead of us. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here in your spare room, if you can put me up for a while.

Of course, that’s no problem, offered Craig.

You’re a good man, Doc! replied Tanner, Well, we better get a move on.

What, you mean tonight?

Yes, tonight! I had hoped that I would finally get some sleep myself. I’ve hardly closed my eyes in the last forty-eight hours, except for a few minutes here and there. But ,there's something very important that I have to do tonight, and I better do it immediately. I've got to find Senator Albert Troy.

Senator Troy?

"Yes Doc, I believe he could be in great danger, and unless I can get him to listen to me—I don’t think anything can save him. I don’t know when, how, or where the attack is going come from, but I’ve got to try and warn him before it’s too late. Let’s grab a taxi."

Okay, but let me leave a note for the girl in my bedroom, just in case she wakes up before I get back, explained Craig.

You’re a lucky man, Doc. I sure wish I had a little squeeze box waiting for me in a warm bed, smiled Jake.

Craig sat silently beside Tanner in the cab and thought about the events of the last half-hour. In the blink of and eye, he had been shanghaied from his peaceful world and tossed into some sort of wild, bizarre adventure. As he rode along in the taxi, he couldn't help but wonder what nefarious types of terrorist activities were being planned in the dark shadows of the city they were passing through. A short time later, their journey came to an end.

My God! What's going on here? muttered Tanner hoarsely, as he stared intently out the taxi window.

There were some uniformed policemen holding back a small crowd of curious on-lookers, that stood near the steps of Senator Albert Troy's house. They shifted back and forth uneasily as they tried to look in through the open front door. Without waiting for the cab to pull up to the curb, Jake Tanner recklessly jumped out with Craig following close on his heels.

What’s going on here? he demanded, breathlessly of a policeman.

The latter looked him up and down for a second doubtfully, but something in Tanner’s voice and bearing seemed to commanded respect.

I'm afraid that Senator Albert Troy has been killed, sir.

Tanner fell back as though he had been slapped. Beneath his heavy tan, his face blanched white, and his eyes stared in disbelief.

My God! he gasped, I’m too late!

He clenched his fists, turned, pushed his way through a group of policeman, and bounded up the cement steps. In the hallway, a man who unmistakably was a police detective stood talking to a man in a butler’s outfit. Other members of the household were moving about, more or less aimlessly, and it seemed as if the chilly hand of fear was reaching out and touching each of them, as they came and went. They continuously glanced over their shoulders, as if each shadow might cloak some hidden danger. They listened; it seemed, for some sound they dreaded to hear.

Tanner walked up to the detective and showed him his identification. After looking at it, the detective said something in a low voice, and nodded in a respectful manner. Jake asked a few more brief questions and then they followed him up some heavily carpeted stairs and down a corridor. They walked past a number of expensive pictures and busts that lined the corridor, and entered a large library room.

There was a group of people inside, and Craig recognized that one these was Dr. John Farrell; he was bending over a motionless body stretched out on a couch. Another door led to a small study, Craig looked through the door opening and saw a man on all fours closely examining the carpet. The uncomfortable sense of quiet emanating from the group around the physician, and the strange figure crawling beetle-like across the inner room seemed a strange sight to Craig.

As they entered, Dr. Farrell straightened himself and scratched his chin thoughtfully. Frankly, I don’t want to offer an opinion right now regarding the cause of death, he said, "Senator Troy had heart problems, but there aren’t any indications that it caused his death. I’m afraid that only a post-mortem can establish the facts—if, even that’s possible. This is a very puzzling case!" he added.

Tanner went to work asking the famous pathologist in conversation, while Craig took the opportunity to examine Senator Troy's body.

The dead man was wearing what was obviously an expensive smoking-jacket. He had a small frame, but muscular build, which now were oddly puffy, as were his clenched hands. Craig pushed back his jacket sleeve, and saw nothing unusual on his left arm. He then turned his attention to the right arm. It appeared normal, but on the back of the hand was a faint red mark, not unlike the imprint of lipstick. Craig examined it closely, and even tried to rub it off, but it evidently was caused by some morbid process of local inflammation, if it weren’t a birthmark. Craig turned his attention to a pale young man, who he had understood to be one of Senator Troy's associates, and drew his attention to the mark.

Do you know what this is?

No, He replied. It’s very strange.

Excuse me, Mr. Howard, apologized Jake, as he turned to the assistant, but Police Chief Knox will tell you that I have Special Federal authority in this case. Is it correct that Senator Troy became ill while he was in his study?

Yes, at 10:30. I was working here in the library, and he was inside, as usual.

Was the adjoining door closed?

Yes, it always is. It was open for a minute or less around 10:25, when a message came for Senator Troy. I took it in to him, but he seemed fine then.

Do you know what was in the message?

I couldn’t say. It was brought by a messenger, and the Senator placed it beside him on the table. I suppose that it should still be there.

And, what happen at 10:30?

"Senator Troy suddenly burst open the door, screamed loudly, and then ran into the library. I ran after him, but he waved me back. His eyes looked horrible. I had just reached him when he fell onto the floor. He seemed to have trouble speaking, but as I picked him up and helped him to the couch, he gasped something that sounded like The red hand! Before I could get to the phone, he was dead."

Mr. Howard's voice shook as he spoke, and Jake seemed to find his remarks confusing.

You don’t think he referred to the mark on his own hand? inquired Tanner, thoughtfully.

I don’t think so. From the direction of his last glance, I’m sure he was referring to something in his study.

What did you do then? asked Jake.

"Well, after calling for help, I went into the study; but, I didn’t see anything unusual, and all of the windows were closed and locked tightly. He always liked to work with the windows closed and there’s no other door leading inside. The study occupies the end of this narrow wing, so there’s no way anyone could have gained access while I was here in the library. Even if someone concealed himself in the study earlier in the evening, he could still not have gotten past me without being seen. And besides –there’s no place where a person could hide in there."

Jake Tanner tugged at the lobe of his left ear, a habit that seemed to help him think better.

You say he had been at work in there for some time?

Yes. Senator Troy was working on a Senate report dealing with the Middle East.

Has anything unusual happened prior to this evening?

Yes, now that you mention it, replied Mr. Howard, with evident perplexity, Although I didn’t attach much importance to it at the time. Three nights ago, Senator Troy came out to see me, and he appeared extremely nervous. He then asked me to search his study. The Senator seemed to think that something was hiding in there.

Did he say something or someone?

Something" was the word he used. I did a through search of the room, but couldn't find anything. That seemed to satisfy him, and he returned to work."

Thank you, Mr. Howard. Now, if you will excuse us, my friend and I would like to have a few minutes to investigate the study.

CHAPTER 2

Senator Albert Troy’s study was very small, and it only took them a glance to show that the assistant had been right when he said, it didn’t offer any viable hiding places. It was heavily carpeted, and over-flowing with numerous Egyptian ornaments and curios.

A desk drawer held several men’s magazines which showed this place to be the sanctum of a wealthy bachelor who enjoyed the naked female form. A map of the world occupied the larger part of one wall, and a blue-shaded lamp stood on a messy, brown wooden desk. The air was stale because the window was closed and latched.

Tanner immediately noticed a large, manila envelope that lay beside the telephone. Apparently, Senator Troy had not even taken the trouble to open it, but Jake did so, and found that it only contained a single, blank sheet of white paper.

Smell this! instructed Tanner, as he handed the letter to Craig. The Doctor raised it to his nostrils and sniffed. He could detect some sort of pungent perfume.

What is it? asked Craig.

It’s an extremely rare essential oil, came the reply, I’ve seen it before, but never in the United States. I think I’m beginning to understand what happened here, Doc.

Jake tilted the lamp-shade and made a closer examination of the scraps of paper, pens, and other items that lay on the desk. A colorful porcelain vase on the mantelpiece caught Craig’s attention, and he picked it up for a closer examination. When he turned back around, he saw a strange expression on Tanner’s face.

Put that back down gently, he cautioned, tensely.

Craig was surprised and puzzled by his friends nervous attitude.

Don't touch anything in this room. It could be dangerous.

Something in the tone of Tanner’s voice jarred him, and he hastily replaced the vase from where he had picked it up. Craig then stood by the door of the study, and watched Jake as he worked methodically to search every inch of the room. He examined behind the books, in all the ornaments, in table drawers, in the wastebasket, and every item on the marble fireplace mantel.

That will have to do, he said, at last, There is nothing here, and I don’t have the time to search any longer.

The two men then returned out to the library.

Chief Knox, said Jake, I want Senator Troy's body moved from this room at once, and this library locked up tight. Don’t let anyone enter here for any reason whatsoever until you hear different from me.

It spoke volumes about the Government credentials that Tanner carried, when the Police Chief accepted his orders without question. After a brief chat with Mr. Howard, Jake walked quickly back downstairs. In the hallway, a man who worked as a chauffeur for the Senator was waiting to be questioned.

Are you Brenner? asked Tanner.

Yes, sir.

I understand that you heard a cry of some kind at the rear of the house about the time of Senator Troy's death?

Yes, sir. I was locking the garage door, and, happened to look up at the window of the Senator’s study. I saw him jump out of his chair from where he normally sat at his desk. I could see his shadow on the blind. Right after that, I heard a strange call coming from out in the street somewhere.

What kind of call?

The man had clearly been frightened and seemed puzzled trying to find a suitable description.

It was sort of a wail, sir, he said finally, I’ve never heard anything like it before, and I hope I never hear it again.

Was it like this? inquired Tanner, as he uttered a low, wailing cry, that would have been impossible to describe.

Brenner was noticeably flustered by the eerie sound.

That’s it alright, he answered, but, it was much louder than that.

That’s all I needed to know, said Tanner, and Craig thought he detected a note of satisfaction in the man's voice, But, hold on for a moment, I want you to take us to where you were last night.

The man nodded as he led the way, and soon they found themselves in a small, paved courtyard. It was a perfect summer's night, and the deep blue sky above was jeweled with myriads of starry points. How impossible it seemed to reconcile that vast, eternal calm with the murderous and mysterious activities at play.

Up there is the Senator’s study windows, explained Brenner, pointing his finger, and over that wall to your left is the back street where the cry came from.

Are the study windows visible from over there?

Oh, yes, sir.

Who lives in the adjacent house there? asked Jake.

General Allen; but, the whole family is out of town on vacation right now.

Those iron stairs there connect between the offices and the servants' quarters, I take it?

Yes, sir.

Then, I want you to send someone over to the General's house; Let them know I want to take a closer look at those stairs.

As single minded as his friend's investigation appeared to Craig, he had ceased to wonder at anything the man did. Since Jake Tanner's arrival at his house, he seemed to have been getting more deeply involved in a series of very strange events. His friend's account of how he came by the wound in his arm; the scene when they arrived at the Senator's house; the associates story of the dying man's cry which sounded like, The red hand!; the possible hidden dangers in the study; the wail in the street--all of these things seemed more fitting to a dream than of actual reality.

Therefore, when a white-faced butler introduced them to a nervous old lady, who worked as the housekeeper of the next-door residence, Craig was not surprised to hear Tanner tell him, It’s getting late, Craig. Keep your eyes open and stay on your guard. I think the man I'm after got here first, and what’s worse, he probably knows that I am here, too.

With that, Tanner entered the house and left Craig standing outside in the square, which gave him time to think, and try to understand the strange events that had transpired over the last hour or so. The crowd that had been hanging around the scene of the crime had finally been cleared away when the news circulated that Senator Troy's death had been from natural causes.

The intense summer heat had helped force many of the local residents back indoors. Craig had practically the entire square to himself, and he thought about the mystery in which he now found himself somewhat reluctantly involved.

He couldn't help but wonder what had caused Senator Troy's death? Did Jake Tanner know? Craig suspected that he might. What was the hidden significance of the perfumed envelope? Who was the mysterious person who had attempted to kill Tanner, and also presumably murdered Senator Troy? During his lifelong of service, Senator Troy had earned the respect and admiration of countless individuals. Who could have wanted him dead?

Then something touched Craig lightly on softly on his shoulder, spooking him.

He nearly jumped in fright and turned with his heart thumping frantically in his chest. Tonight's activities had imposed a severe strain on his nerves and set him on edge. When he looked around, he saw a woman in a tight blouse standing at his elbow. When she glanced up into his eyes, he thought that he had never seen a lovelier more seductive creature in his entire life. She had perfect flawless skin, charcoal black eyes, and luscious red, heart-bowed lips.

I’m sorry, if I startled you, she began, speaking with an odd, yet pretty accent, while at the same time lying her slim hand, confidingly upon his arm, "But--is it true that Senator Troy has been murdered?"

Craig looked into her big, questioning eyes, and a harsh suspicion labored in his mind, but he couldn’t read anything in their mysterious depths. The grotesque idea momentarily struck him that the lusciousness of her red lips was too perfect to be a work of Mother Nature. Could her kiss have left a mark like the one he had seen on the dead man's hand?"

But, he quickly dismissed the fantastic notion as a creation of his mind caused by the night's unusual activities. She was probably some friend or acquaintance of the Senator who lived down the street.

I can’t say for sure that he’s been murdered, he replied, as he sought to break the news to her as gently as possible.

"But he is--Dead?"

Craig slowly nodded.

She closed her eyes and uttered a low, moaning sound, swaying dizzily. Thinking that she was about to faint, he threw his arm around her shoulders to support her, but she smiled sadly, and pushed him gently away.

I’m okay, but thank you for your kindness, she said.

"You’re certain? Maybe I should walk with you a ways--until you’re sure you’re okay."

The young lady shook her head and flashed a rapid glance at him with her beautiful black eyes. She then looked away in a sort of sad embarrassment, and he was entirely at a lost as how to react.

The suddenly she resumed her conversation, "I don’t want to get involved in this awful matter, but—I think I have some information that would be useful to the police. Would you give this to—the man in charge?"

She