Ch 40 - The Fourth Face Of Evil

The same disbelief I returned now in my gaze,

watching Keene stand up perfectly fine.

— You...are not hurt? — I exclaimed, still

stunned.

— No, Kevin. He never was. But that's the least

of the lies and misdeeds you've done, isn't it, Dr. Keene?

Would you like to summarize them, or should I do it? —

Keene's face then changed back to its usual

contemptuous expression.

— What are you talking about, miss?

— What am I talking about? Let me tell you a

story, both of you in fact. You spent a few months on

expeditions with our father, just before Kevin arrived

and was welcomed into the team. The three of you even

visited some locations, but never found anything. In

Ambungi, though, something changed dramatically. I

accepted my father's invitation to participate with you in

the trip to the archipelago, which excited my father so

much that he agreed to bring more modern equipment to

study the findings. And when we discovered them, after

all, you fell in love. The beauty of those beings certainly

made you ecstatic. You, especially, had a reason to be

spellbound, as you were the bearer of the camera that

photographed the Kaiaimunus and Probactrosaurus. It

was then that our father reminded you that these images

would be returned to the continent, where they would be

shown to the public as conclusive proof that some

species had indeed survived extinction. You panicked at

the possibility of losing those magnificent creatures to

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hunters and other despicable humans who would come to

the islands. Of course, your own species always seemed

less important to you than the animal species. Your

family valued money above all else, even above you. I

suppose you never heard any of them express affection.

So you turned your back on humanity and turned to

animals, becoming a biomedical doctor, much to the

chagrin of your family. It was the most terrible blow you

could have dealt them — to disregard a career in the

field that the family had preserved for years in favor of

plants and animals. I'm sure this feeling built up over the

years, until you could no longer bear it. You had to

preserve these creatures at all costs, even if the cost was

human life. And in each case you threw the clues in my

face, mocking me, thinking that I wouldn't be able to

understand what was going on; well, I am. Bergeron was

feeling weak, you said? So weak that he could no longer

walk? A classic symptom of nitroglycerin poisoning. It

is recommended to take no more than three tablets of the

substance at a time. You made him take much more than

the recommended amount. You drugged the poor man

and let him be devoured in the woods, you damned

coward!

By this point, I was stunned, shifting the focus of

my gaze from Lucy to Keene and back again.

— And yet, this was only the latest of his crimes.

Mr. Frost heard about what happened in Whitehorse and

I think I can explain the events that occurred at the

Lavouie Inn. We were discussing what we had done to

Frost, giving him the sleeping pill so that he could not

come with us, when we heard the staircase creak. It

always made the same noise, so you didn't suspect

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anything. But we did. We warned you that there must be

someone on the wooden steps, but you refused to believe

us. So you got up, went to the top of the stairs, and

claimed that there was no one there. But there was

somebody. Neleh Lenoir was on the steps, climbing the

staircase, when she heard our conversation and stopped

to listen to the rest of it. You were afraid, then, that she

would tell what we had done to Andri Bergeron, her

friend. When she saw you at the top of the stairs, she

must have panicked, but not for long. Looking into her

eyes, you lied that there was no one there. The next day,

when we said goodbye, you handed her a wad of bills,

which she must have thought was a bribe or something.

Very needy, she readily accepted the gift and started

counting them before we even left the place. As you had

noticed, she had a nasty habit of moistening her fingers

when flipping through pages. People with anxiety often

bite their fingernails, clench their teeth, and, of course,

lick their index fingers when turning pages. You bet that

she would do the same when counting money, and

unfortunately, you were right. A gentleman reported that

she was found dead, with a morbid smile on her face.

Those bills; they were covered in strychnine. Risus

sardonicus is a common symptom caused by this drug.

You killed her, too, just so she wouldn't say anything to

Bergeron. There was another reason for her not to tell

what we did to Frost. Yes, because you didn't just pour

sleeping pills into the coffee as I asked. No, you did

more. To challenge my judgment, you used a second

dose of scopolamine.

The name resonated in my mind when Lucy

mentioned it. She had said something about this drug

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before. She had found pills of the drug somewhere, but

where?

— Scopolamine causes temporary forgetfulness,

— she went on to say. — Frost not only blacked out after

drinking the coffee, but also forgot what had happened

before he fell asleep. The point, though, was that nothing

had happened. It was just an insult to my deductive

ability, which you should not doubt after what you saw

in the Everglades. This, by the way, brings me to my

next point. In Florida, you encountered a man very much

like yourself — as sordid and disgusting as yourself.

Alexander Boseman also did not have enough love for

others. Unlike you, though, he had not the slightest love

for animals, either, which led him to be greedy, wishing

to have the Steppesaurus under his control, where they

would be slaughtered and sold in the form of handbags

and shoes. Another terrible threat to your intricate plan

of destruction, but not the cleverest of them, I suppose.

You met him at the hospital where Alma Boseman was

admitted, before we barred him at the entrance to the pit

leading to the nests. You know, I wondered, why did he

wait so many hours to act? Why come only in the

morning? Then I remembered what Kevin had said.

Those animals are most active when the sun is up, but

they can still move with some agility, thanks to the

energy generated by their internal system. You heard him

too, but you lied to him. You said that the animals would

not be able to react in the morning and he believed it,

attacking the nests and dying in the process. You didn't

kill him directly, but you set the stage for his death. Not

everything turned out perfectly as expected, however.

Boseman was to be killed in a much more direct manner,

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at the hands of Nathan Allard. It was you that he had

gone to see that night, and you witnessed the gruesome

death he suffered on the fields in front of you.

— So... that's why, — I said, finally

understanding something. — That's why you returned

the map to him upside down. Since Jacob doesn't know

how to interpret maps, he understood that this was the

right angle and followed your instructions!

— Precisely, Kevin, — Lucy approved of my

conclusion. — I still didn't know why he had a map, but

it had to be something related to the crimes he was

already committing. Thinking that I was correcting the

angle of the map, he took that side as the correct one and

followed its directions at night, showing up for the

appointment with Allard on the wrong side of the pond.

One waited for the other, both thinking that something

wrong had occurred, until the animals attacked Nathan.

He ran, trying to escape, but was attacked near the

cypress hill — the place opposite to where Keene was

supposed to be, and exactly where he was. Jacob

watched his accomplice being devoured alive, unable to

react. Allard, by the way, was pretty useful in his

services to Keene. So much so that he was already taking

the lead in getting new reports of cryptids and new

victims to be murdered. Before going to the Boseman

ranch, he had overheard a poor Canadian complaining

about his life, sitting at a table in a Florida cafe. He was

pleased with the story and even invented an organization

for the protection of aboriginal peoples to be able to fool

Bergeron and scheduled our return flight to be the same

one he was coming on, allowing you to meet your

victim. But everything was not always so well planned,

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was it? There was a time when killings were improvised,

as happened in South Africa. Baruti Elya was a vile

criminal, which you and I have exposed, but to you, he

was also an environmental terrorist. Elya's business had

been threatened by the discovery of Leptocleidus on the

site, so he tried to eliminate the animals, even

slaughtering some. But where did he get the longline he

was using that night when we caught him by surprise?

Well, you arranged for it to happen. You pretended that

you were going to the condominium just to get his boat,

but in fact, you went back to the tribe, where Thabo

Amaechi's body was waiting to be prepared. When I saw

him the next day, I noticed that the hooks had been

removed, but not carefully. The skin was torn where they

had previously penetrated, showing that whoever had

removed them certainly did not respect the victim. It was

you, too. In addition, you took the opportunity to hide

the ax that was supposed to be stuck in the wood stump,

ensuring that Kevin could not use it in case we were

snooping around, as we did later. Elya spotted the

longline in the tool shed and, figuring that his men had

forgotten it there, started to throw it into the water, trying

to catch something. Then you stepped in, playing the

part of the good citizen who confronts the environmental

terrorist. Killing someone would be negative for the

engineer's reputation, who was already trying to hide his

drug business. So you knew that he wouldn't really try to

shoot you. That flashlight, thrown offhand while Elya

was fishing, was the perfect distraction for a horrible

accident to occur. You had told him that someone had

managed to hook one of the animals with a longline, but

did not say that the man who had done it had died soon

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after. You trusted, then, that Baruti Elya's lack of fishing

skill was enough, and the Leptocleidus' nature of

swimming to deeper water did the rest. When he became

distracted, the hooks pierced his flesh and he was

dragged into the water. You killed him, Doctor Keene,

and you can't run away from the facts. And that call that

we heard you make, that was the first time you contacted

Nathan Allard, I suppose. The first contact, which would

lead to a series of vicious murders. Tell me, do you still

remember the first time you killed someone? Kevin, do

you remember that I said that was the second time he

used scopolamine?

— Yes, you mentioned it before, when we were

talking about...Amge? He used it in Amge!

— Exactly, Kevin. He was desperate, imagining a

way to save the animals and he found the perfect

method. In the Abal's medicine cabinet, there were a few

pills of the drug, used by the widow to stop nausea. In

larger doses, though, scopolamine affects a person's

ability to follow their own will, making them more

susceptible to following orders without even thinking.

Essentially, it temporarily turns its victims into zombies.

We were lingering with Paka Norwayan, which gave him

the perfect opportunity to grind up the pills he found and

scatter them as a fine powder over the map, knowing that

our father needed to get his face close enough to a map

to read it. As he said, the map was covered with dust.

Then all he had to do was to give him an order — to start

the speedboat and launch himself into the water, which

he did. But Keene didn't count on the Lanes' resilience.

My father escaped from the Sinornithosaurus, hiding

among the Kaiaimunus until he reached the village

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again. Unfortunately, he had already been bitten by this

point and was bleeding severely. By the time he reached

us, he was about to die. We buried my father on that

beach, Doctor, but I have kept since then the memory

that you killed him! — she finished, already in tears. I

was in shock, still absorbing everything I had heard.

Keene had carried out such a macabre plan? And the

worst — the death of our father? I turned to Jacob, my

hands burning, raring to choke him. He, then, laughed,

sneering at us:

— Wow, quite impressive, young lady. I never

thought you were that smart. You know, I should have

hired you, instead of that arrogant little man. Allard was

an easy choice; he hated Frost for being his boss, which I

promised would no longer happen if he worked with me.

— I would never work for someone so vulgar!

— she hissed.

— You… — I said, also losing my temper, —

You killed our father, you maggot!

— Our father? — he laughed. — Our father?

Don't be stupid, O'Riley! Did you really think you'd have

a father in Anthony Lane? Don't make me laugh. Ask

Lucy! The old man was as despicable as I am. But you,

Lucy...you could have been so useful to me.

Unfortunately...you two are a menace now. Threats to the

wildlife that I have sworn to protect. I'm sorry, dear. —

From inside his jacket, he then pulled out a syringe and

raised it in the air, approaching Lucy. His gaze was as

cold and lifeless as the metal walls that surrounded us.

— Hold still now, will you?

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But before he could insert the needle, a voice

sounded from within the cubicle behind us:

— Touch her and I'll do to you what you did to

Andri!

The cubicle door opened in an instant, revealing

the man who had hidden there.

— Bruneau? — exclaimed Keene. — How did

you survive?

— You thought I'd never make it this far alive,

didn't you, Doctor? Well, I made it. Now get away from

that girl!

But Keene didn't hesitate, quickly inserting the

syringe into Lucy's neck, which twitched with the sting.

In the next instant, Bruneau held Jacob's arms and threw

him against the wall, while I, still in a panic, removed

the needle.

Grabbing the Brit from the floor, Jimmy growled:

— What was in that syringe? Speak up, you

bastard! — Between short laughs of satisfaction, Keene

hissed:

— A high dose of potassium chloride...

Panic was visible in Bruneau's eyes, as well as in

mine, but Lucy remained impassive. Approaching Jacob,

she raised her eyes on him and said:

— You prepared that injection while still in New

Haven, didn't you? Maybe not for me, exactly, but for

anyone who threatened you. You thought I would die in

minutes from a cardiac arrest. But you didn't remember

who took your coat when it fell into the Partridge.

At this, Keene's smile faded, remembering the

occasion.

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— It was...it was you! — he shouted, leaping on

Lucy, kicking, trying to reach her, but was stopped by

Bruneau who was holding him tightly.

— Exactly, Doctor. And that's where you usually

keep the substances and venoms you carry. Well, I also

prepared a dose and replaced the contents of your

syringe. What you have just injected in me...is lidocaine.

Nothing more than a local sedative.

Keene's expression was one of hatred at its purest

state, but there was nothing he could do.

— Now come with me, Doctor, — Bruneau said.

— Let's go for a walk. Kids, open that door, please.

Obeying the Indian leader's order, we jointly

pulled open one of the thick metal slats that made up the

warehouse door, revealing the white world outside.

Jimmy Bruneau then dragged him outside, holding him

by the two hands brought to his back. Outside, the

snowstorm grew stronger, making it difficult to see. The

doors behind the two of them closed again, isolating us

from the outside world.

— Now, doctor, you are going to help us get

home. The pack had split up to hunt us; two smaller ones

going after me. I believe you used the other two? All

right, listen up. Datsá has only one exit, opposite the

entrance. You will make a fuss, wait until the lone

animal comes after you, and then you will escape

through this exit, do you understand?

— What are the odds I'll survive that? — Jacob

growled.

— And what are the odds Andri Bergeron had?

Releasing Jacob's hands, Bruneau pushed him

away, throwing him to the snowy ground.

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— You'd better get started, Doctor. You'll have to

survive on your own after you cross the exit.

Bruneau then ripped off the thick fur coat that

protected him and tied it around his waist. Turning again

toward the warehouse, he walked a few steps and

headed, not to the building, but to the rope that led to the

top of the mine. Throwing himself onto the rope, he

hoisted his body, using the powerful muscles he had

developed, and began to climb the several meters that

separated him from the top.

Turning to what he had been told to do, Jacob

Keene walked to the ice gap that separated the Datsá

woods. No more than a meter or two could be seen ahead

of him, and the cold was intense. He could keep quiet

and die right there, overcome by the freezing

temperature, but what good would that do? At least there

was a minimal chance of survival if he followed

Bruneau's instructions. Still hesitating, his lips refusing

to open, he began softly to call for help, raising his tone

gradually. The plain was still an empty, deserted

blankness, without the slightest sign of a predator's

presence. Keene's screams were more audible now,

driven by the deadly cold that tortured him, but nothing

answered his call. The thin blazer that had served him

until now as a case for his lethal weapons was no longer

so useful. His muscles were slowly stiffening, soon

compressing his rib cage. Now it was painful to scream.

— Help! — he cried out, feeling his chest burn

with the enormous effort. This time, though, something

answered him. Something very close, right in front of

him. Breathing heavily, Jacob Keene forced his legs to

be steady, waiting, waiting until...

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A pair of jaws closed within inches of his face,

coming from an unseen point in the blizzard. In a panic,

Keene fell to the ground, but got up with a leap, running

towards the mine. From inside the warehouse, we could

hear a mixture of human screams and reptilian roars

echoing in the valley. Lucy had her back to the cold

metal door, listening to what was happening outside,

closing her eyes to concentrate. A tear trickled from her

right eye, washing a narrow strip of her face, before

falling to the floor. I, for my part, wept and sobbed,

knowing what would happen next.

Narrowly evading the Ceratosaurus' attack,

Keene entered the mine and kept running, trying to reach

its interior. He could still hear the predator's footsteps

behind him, kicking up rocks on the way, its roar

echoing off the cave walls. There was something strange,

though. There was no light coming from anywhere in the

mine, as if...there was no way out. Unable to see, Keene

crashed into a stone wall, injuring his face. Turning

toward the entrance from which he had come, he realized

that he was trapped. In front of him, the silhouette of a

predator was advancing rapidly towards him. Desperate,

he cried out:

— No, please, no!

But its jaws were already on his body, shaking

him and tearing his flesh apart. Outside, Bruneau could

hear the horrendous screams coming at him, echoing

through the gloomy mine.

— The same odds, Keene, — he whispered,

before throwing the rest of the dynamite load inside the

mine and seeking refuge. The wick ran out in a few

seconds and the explosive was detonated. Behind

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Bruneau, a huge explosion tore through the wooden

structure that framed the mine and threw rocks

everywhere, causing the entire mountain to collapse on

top of it, burying Keene and his passion forever.