As the door chimes faded, two men in Brooks Brothers suits waited on
the tiled entrance. Behind them a teenage boy clad in a badly soiled
T-shirt and torn jeans wedged between two police officers.
“Good day, Sir, I’m Detective Azoris. This is
Detective Salnave,” one explained, displaying a picture ID and
badge. “Are you Franklin deVore?”
“Doctor Franklin deVore, yes,” the resident
answered, emphasizing the title.
“Do you know this kid?”
“Yes. He’s my ward.”
“May we come in?”
“Forgive me. Yes, please do. This incident has
upset me greatly,” Dr. deVore said, closing the door with a sound
that echoed through the cavern-like entry.
The affluent surroundings didn’t impress Azoris.
His assigned area had a lot of that. The doctor’s courtesy,
however, was surprising. He suspected him new to the strata.
“You say he’s your ward?” Azoris inquired.
“Yes.”
“He’s lying,” the boy challenged in a
quivering voice.
“I believe this can be straightened out in my
study,” the doctor said in a smooth, graceful baritone hinting of
New England.
Passing through another set of tall, double doors
squelched the chilling squeak of their shoes on the tile as they
stepped onto the plush carpet of a study. Dr. deVore went directly to
an large desk at the far back of the room, opened the top drawer, and
withdrew an envelope.
“This should explain,” he said, handing it to
Azoris.
“This is a court order giving custody of Andrus
and Benjamin Plummer to Dr. Franklin deVore,” the detective
summarized to his partner. “Looks pretty official. What about this,
Andrus?”
“We were jacked off the street.”
“That’s correct, officer. Benny and Andy have
constantly gotten into trouble with the law. The ghetto court decided
to rehabilitate them. I act as legal guardian effecting the
transfer.”
“He’s lying!” Andrus shouted again.
“And where is Benjamin now?”
DeVore reached into the desk drawer and withdrew a
brochure. “He was dispatched yesterday.”
The detective scanned the brochure describing a
military-type school on a Caribbean Island. “I see you are on the
Board of Directors. Mind if I borrow this? I’d like to check it
out. This kid has been saying some really weird stuff.”
“Of course. In the meantime, I will begin making
arraignments for Andrus to join his brother.”
“No!” the boy screamed.
“Quiet,” Azoris snapped as the boy became more
agitated.
“I was going to check to see if Benny had been
assimilated in his new environment, yet. Why don’t you use my
telephone and call the Camp. That would facilitate terminating two
problems.”
Azoris nodded his head as an indication for
Salnave to make the call as the boy began struggling and screaming
wildly.
“There is a special room that way,” deVore
pointed to a door along one wall. “I have found it necessary on
occasions. I do not doubt Andrus has been spreading some wild
stories,” the doctor continued as the boy was locked away. “Drug
abuse does terrible things to the mind. Both boys have been heavy
into drugs, thus the court order. LSD. Nasty stuff. Unlike other
drugs, it attaches to the spleen and liver and then, unexpectedly,
some will release causing appalling episodes. Whatever he imagines
during these times becomes very real to him.”
“His story is pretty bizarre. Says that you chop
people up and feed them to your plants.”
“Oh, that is nightmarish. Undoubtedly triggered
by fear that they were being sent off. They threw a fit about the
arraignment. I was able to restrain Benny, but Andy managed to escape
through the arboretum.”
“May I see this arboretum?”
“Certainly. It adjoins this study,” deVore
said, leading them into a huge greenhouse crammed with tropical
vegetation. “This is my laboratory. I am a botanist,” the doctor
explained proudly as they were engulfed by humid heat.
“I do some gardening myself,” Azoris said.
“It is such a joy, particularly when you’re
able to encourage some stubborn plant to sprout and flourish.”
“I hate weeding.”
“Weeds are an interesting concept, Detective
Azoris. Take this plant for instance,” the doctor said, indicating
a knee-high fern. “Every two years it displays brilliant orange,
red and blue flowers, yet in its natural setting it is very invasive.
Crowds out everything, consumes all the nutrients, and seldom
flowers. It is a blight upon the flora world. A weed. In one setting
a flower, in another something that must be rooted up and removed.”
“That could apply to people.”
“An interesting analogy. Yes, I suppose it
could. The inner city is so overcrowd, using up precious resources, a
detriment to society. Remove some, place them in a different
environment, and they can become useful. An instrument to increase
productivity. A concept that keeps Social workers continually
amused,” deVore replied.
“You’ve got some really exotic stuff here.”
“Exotic? Yes. See this orchid? Comes from the
jungles near Beleize. All those tour boats pass by and no one has an
inkling what they are missing just beyond the shoreline. I am
domesticating them. I have a number of engineering projects underway
like that,” Dr. deVore explained proudly.
“Are these carnivores?” the detective asked
bending over to look at a cluster of vivid green plants with
cherry-red pistils.
“As a matter of fact. Very useful. These little
denizens keep the fly population in here at a manageable level.”
“They’re large.”
“You are used to seeing the gardening shop
variety. In their native environment they grow quite large, some
become large enough to engulf mice. As a whim I toyed with the idea
of making genetic changes to the growth chain to produce a plant
large enough to handle kitchen waste.”
“A living garbage disposal?” Azoris quipped.
DeVore laughed. “Yes. Impractical as hell. The
normal house is much too dry and cold. The plants would not flourish.
A person would have to constantly replace them making the idea much
too expensive.”
“The kid says you fed his brother to some of
these plants,” Azoris remarked as the laughter faded.
“A small house fly nourishes one of these plants
for some while. To dispose of a human body would take a whole
continent of these little creatures. Then, what would you do with the
bones? Not very conceivable, but you are welcome to look for yourself
or perhaps a forensics team. Of course, if there’s going to be any
digging I must be present so that the root systems are not damaged.”
“Thank you doctor. I don’t believe digging
will be necessary. They use special rods inserted into the soil that
can detect human remains.”
“Then by all means insert away. I want your mind
to be clear on this unfortunate episode.”
A forensics team spent two hours poking and
prodding about the arboretum and surrounding grounds as the two
detectives walked among the jungle of plants. Salnave finally asked
his superior, “What do you think?”
“Could a body be buried in here or outside? I
doubt it. These plants are too well established. Lots of small plants
next to the surface. Disturb them and they would show signs of
wilting or discoloring from root shock.”
Having confirmed the school’s authenticity
Azoris stood amid the towering jungle, waiting and sweltering. He
really hated this assignment. It was doing nothing for his career. As
expected the search was negative.
“Well, that’s about it, Dr. deVore. Nothing
here corroborates the kid’s story and his brother is accounted
for,” Azoris related. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”
“Not at all. You had to follow up on the lad’s
story, bizarre as it sounded. I see by your ring you are married.
Please take this for your bride,” the doctor said, handing him a
small box containing an orchid.
“Why thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“Oh, wait until you smell it. That’s what this
laboratory is all about, genetically engineering plants to benefit
society.”
“When will you be sending Andrus off?”
“As soon as possible. It really is the best
method for treating society’s problems.”
With the police gone the sprawling mansion was
once again enveloped by its peculiar silence as deVore entered the
room where Andrus had been locked up.
“You tricked them!”
“I told them what they wanted to hear.”
“You’re not going to feed me to your plants,”
Andrus shouted hysterically, charging deVore and the partially opened
door beyond, but within a few feet of escaping the doctor sprayed
something into the boy’s face. The mist blinded him as he reeled
sideways and staggered. A second spray sent him sprawling helplessly
to the floor.
“A paralysis agent, Andrus. I extract it from a
particular carnivorous plant. When an insect is drawn into its lair
it exudes this chemical to immobilize the victim. Quite effective.
The creature knows it’s being devoured, but can’t struggle and
damage the plant’s delicate infrastructure,” the scientist
explained as the youth flopped about the floor. “They always look
under the plants. Who would guess to look in the plants?” deVore
said with a chuckle, tossing the boy over his broad shoulder and
carrying him to the arboretum. Placing him on a long, narrow,
stainless steel table another quick spray insured he would be
mentally alert, but physically defenseless.
“I try to be quite efficient here,” the doctor
said, becoming chatty. “I really believe in recycling. The
incinerator will reduced your clothes to ash to be mixed with
compost. Any metal and plastic parts will, of course, be reduced to
mere, unidentifiable lumps and casually mixed with the daily
garbage.”
“I
know you can understand me, Andrus,” deVore said looking into the
boy’s terrified eyes. “This is a complete process. Your blood
will drain into a special container beneath the table. After
processing, other plants will absorb its nitrogen. I use everything.
Recycling is the word these days. Sometimes I even convert some of
the larger bones into fertilizer, too, but not this time, I think.
You will simply be dissected into a number of parts to be deposited
into the top of my very special carnivorous pitcher plants. I have
named them Sarraceniahumongissimus.
They are big. Four meters tall. Those officers never thought to look
up. Of course, the tops are camouflaged by banana trees. Each one of
my beauties contains over 120 liters of enzymes that digest every
molecule.
“I very nearly broke into a fit of laughter.
They poked and prodded all around beneath my giant pitchers and not
once thought to climb up and look inside. Not that they would have
seen anything. It has been over twelve hours since Benjamin went
splish-splash. That’s all it takes, really.
“Your brother was too skinny, though. They are
still quite hungry. I thought I would have to use renderings from the
slaughterhouse to supplement their diet, then those nice men brought
you back. My plants really prefer human flesh.”
“Thank you for that very edifying admission,
doctor.”
“Detective Salnave! What …?”
“I forgot my hat and thought I’d just stop on
the way home. Quite a description. Was that intended to scare the lad
to death, or just for your own perverted sense of humor?”
DeVore turned to look into the boy’s eyes. The
terror had been replaced by a vision of rescue. As one corner of his
face curled into a crooked, half smile, the doctor turned back to the
detective.
“And Azoris’ investigation?”
“A petty nuisance. An expensive, petty nuisance.
That’s what he called it. He’s allowing me the privilege of
finishing the report. No glory in it for him. He should have
forgotten his hat, then he could have been privy to that very
descriptive confession.”
“Would make interesting reading in the
tabloids.”
“Oh, yes. You would become infamous, I would
become famous, and the ever successful Azoris a laughing stock. By
the way the ghetto court is sending another tonight. A thief.”
“I don’t care about their offense. I only
recycle society’s weeds. Now, hand me that pruning knife if you
don’t mind.”
