The Einstein Equation

13 Purdue’s Pawn

Purdue was furious. The normally even-tempered genius had been behaving like a maniac since Sam missed his appointment. Since he was unable to locate Sam by e-mail, phone or satellite trace on his car, Purdue was caught between feeling betrayed and terrified. He had entrusted the investigative journalist with the most important information ever hidden by the Nazi’s, and here he found himself hanging on by a thin thread of sanity.

“If Sam is lost, or sick, I do not care!” he snapped at Jane. “All I want is the goddamn footage of the Lost City wall, for Christ’s sake! I want you to drive to his apartment again today, Jane, and I want you to break in if you have to.”

Jane and Charles, the butler, looked at one another with great concern. She would never resort to any criminal acts for any reason and Purdue knew it, yet he sincerely expected this of her. Charles stood in rigid silence next to Purdue’s dining room table, as always, but his eyes displayed how troubled he was at the new developments.

In the doorway of the massive kitchen at Wrichtishousis, Lillian, the housekeeper, stood listening. Drying the cutlery of the wasted breakfast she prepared, her usual cheerful demeanor was dampened past the low point and settled way down at the morose level.

“What is happening to our keep?” she mumbled, shaking her head. “What has the lord of the manor so upset that he has turned into such a beast?”

She lamented the days when Purdue was his old self — calm and collected, suave and even whimsical at times. Now there was no music playing from his lab anymore and no footie on the telly while he shouted at the referee. Mr. Cleave and Dr. Gould were absent and poor Jane and Charles had to put up with the boss and his new obsession, a sinister equation they unearthed on their last expedition.

Even the light seemed to have stayed away from the tall windows of the mansion. Her eyes trailed the high ceilings and extravagant ornaments, relics and majestic paintings. None of it was beautiful anymore. Lillian felt as if the very colors had absconded from the interior of the silent mansion. “Like a sarcophagus,” she sighed as she turned. In her way stood a figure, strong and imposing, and Lillian walked right into it. A high yelp escaped Lillian in fright.

“My goodness, Lily, it is only me,” the nurse laughed, consoling the ashen housekeeper with a hug. “What has you jumpy, then?”

Lillian was relieved at the nurse’s appearance. She used the dishcloth to fan her face, trying to recover from the start she got. “Thank God you are here, Lilith,” she wheezed. “Mr. Purdue is going mad, I swear it. Could you maybe sedate him for a few hours? The staff are exhausted with his insane demands.”

“Still have not located Mr. Cleave, I suppose?” Nurse Hurst guessed, looking hopeless.

“No, and Jane has reason to believe something happened to Mr. Cleave, but she has not the heart to tell Mr. Purdue… yet. Not until he is a bit less, you know,” Lillian gestured with a scowl to convey Purdue’s fury.

“Why does Jane think something happened to Sam?” the nurse asked the weary kitchen lady.

Lillian leaned in to whisper, “Apparently they found his car crashed through a fence in the old Stanton Road schoolyard, completely written off.”

“What?” Nurse Hurst gasped softly. “My God, I hope he is okay?”

“We know nothing. All Jane could find out was that Mr. Cleave’s car was found by police after a few residents and business owners called to report a high speed chase,” the housekeeper informed her.

“Oh my God, no wonder David is so disturbed,” she frowned. “You should tell him immediately.”

“With respect, Miss Hurst, is he not mad enough yet? That news will push him over the edge. He has not been eating, as you can see,” Lillian pointed at the discarded breakfast, “and he does not sleep at all, except for when you dose him.”

“I think he should be told. For now, he probably thinks that Mr. Cleave has betrayed him, or is simply ignoring him for no reason. If he knows that someone was pursuing his friend, he might feel less vindictive. Did you ever think of that?” Nurse Hurst suggested. “I shall have a word with him.”

Lillian nodded. Perhaps the nurse was right. “Well, you would be the best person to tell him. After all, he has taken you on a tour of his laboratories and shared some science talk with you. He trusts you.”

“You are right, Lily,” the nurse admitted. “Let me talk to him while I check his progress. I will ease him into it.”

“Thank you, Lilith. You are a godsend. This place has turned into a prison for all of us since the boss has come back,” Lillian bemoaned the situation.

“No worries, love,” Nurse Hurst replied with a reassuring wink. “We will get him back in top form.”

“Good morning, Mr. Purdue,” the nurse smiled as she entered the dining room.

“Morning, Lilith,” he greeted wearily.

“This is unusual. You have not eaten?” she said. “You have to eat for me to administer your treatment.

“I had a slice of toast, for God’s sake,” Purdue reported impatiently. “As far as I know, that will suffice.”

She could not argue with that. Nurse Hurst could feel the tension in the room. Jane waited anxiously for Purdue’s signature on a document, but he refused to sign before she drove to Sam’s home to investigate.

“Can that wait?” the nurse calmly asked Jane. Jane’s eyes darted to Purdue, but he was pushing out his chair and stumbling to his feet with some support from Charles. She nodded at the nurse and collected the documents, immediately catching Nurse Hurst’s hint.

“Go get my footage from Sam, Jane!” Purdue cried after her as she left the vast room and trotted up to her office. “Did she hear me?”

“She heard you,” Nurse Hurst affirmed. “I am sure she will be leaving soon.”

“Thank you, Charles, I can handle it,” Purdue snapped at his butler, shooing him off.

“Yes, sir,” Charles replied and dismissed himself. The butler’s normally stone expression was riddled with frustration and a hint of sadness, but he had delegating to do to the grounds men and the cleaners.

“You are being a pest, Mr. Purdue,” Nurse Hurst whispered as she led Purdue to the drawing room, where she usually assessed his progress.

“David, my dear, David or Dave,” he corrected her.

“Alright, stop being so nasty to your staff,” she instructed, keeping her voice even as to not arouse hostility in him. “It is not their fault.”

“Sam has still not been. Do you know that?” Purdue hissed as she pulled up his sleeve.

“I heard,” she replied. “If I may ask, what is the big deal about this footage? It is not as if you are making a documentary on a deadline or anything.”

Purdue saw in Nurse Hurst, a rare ally, someone who understood his fascination for science. He did not mind confiding in her. With Nina absent, and Jane a subordinate, his nurse was the only woman he felt close to these days.

“Research says that it is reputed to have been one of Einstein’s theories, but the thought of it possibly working in practice was so terrifying that he destroyed it. Only thing is, it was copied before it was destroyed, you see,” Purdue related, his light blue eyes darkening with fixation. This was not the hue of David Purdue’s eyes. Something was clouding over, something beyond the boundaries of his personality. But Nurse Hurst did not know Purdue’s personality as well as the others, therefore she could not see how terribly amiss things were with her patient. “

“And Sam has this equation?” she asked.

“He does. And I need to start working on it,” Purdue explained. He almost sounded sane now. “I have to know what it is, what it does. I have to know why the Order of the Black Sun hoarded it for so long, why Dr. Ken Williams felt the need to bury it where nobody would get it. Or,” he whispered, “…why they waited.”

“The Order of the what?” she frowned.

Suddenly it dawned on Purdue that he was not speaking to Nina or Sam, or Jane, or anyone familiar with his covert life. “Um, just some organization I have had run-ins with before. No big deal.”

“You know, this stress is not helping with your healing, David,” she advised. “How can I help you get that equation? If you had it, you could stay occupied, instead of terrorizing your staff and me, with all these tantrums. Your blood pressure is elevated and your temper is exacerbating your health and I simply cannot allow that.”

“I know it does, but until I have Sam’s footage, I cannot rest,” Purdue shrugged.

“Dr. Patel expects me to keep up his standards outside of the facility, you understand? If I keep bringing him vitals that teeter on trouble, he is going to fire me, because it looks like I am not doing my job,” she whined deliberately to invoke his pity.

Purdue had not known Lilith Hurst for long, but aside from his inherent guilt for what happened to her husband, he had a science-centered kindred in her. He also felt that she could very well be his only collaborator in his quest to obtain Sam’s footage, largely because she had no inhibitions about it. Her ignorance was his bliss, indeed. What she did not know would enable her to help him for the sole purpose of helping him without any criticism or opinion — just how Purdue liked it.

He played down his frantic drive for the information in order to come across as docile and reasonable. “If you could just perhaps find Sam and ask him for the footage, it would be a huge help.”

“Alright, let me see what I can do,” she consoled him, “but you have to promise me that you will give me a few days. Let’s agree that I should have it next week, when we have our next appointment. How’s that?”

Purdue nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”

“Good, now, no more talk of maths and missing footage. You have to rest for a change. Lily told me that you hardly ever sleep and quite frankly, your vitals are screaming it to be true, David,” she commanded in a wonderfully cordial way that affirmed her talent for diplomacy.

“What is that?” he asked when she loaded the hypodermic with a small vial of watery solution.

“Just some IV Valium to help you sleep a few more hours,” she reported, measuring the amount by the eye. Through the tube of the injection, the light played with the substance inside, giving it a holy glow she found engaging. If only Lillian could see it, she thought, to rest assured that there was still some beautiful light left in Wrichtishousis. The darkness in Purdue’s eyes faded into a peaceful slumber as the drug took effect.

He winced as the hellish sensation of burning acid in his veins tormented him, but it lasted mere seconds before it reached his heart. Content that Nurse Hurst had agreed to get him the formula on Sam’s footage, Purdue allowed the velvet darkness to consume him. Far away, voices echoed before he was completely under. Lillian brought a blanket and pillow, covering him with the fleece blanket. “Just cover him here,” Nurse Hurst advised. “Let him sleep here on the sofa for now. Poor thing. He is knackered.”

“Aye,” Lillian agreed, as she helped Nurse Hurst cover the lord of the manor, as Lillian called him. “And thanks to you, all of us will be able to get a breather too.”

“You are very welcome,” Nurse Hurst chuckled. Her face sank into mild melancholy. “I know what it is like to deal with a difficult man in the house. They might think they are in charge, but when they are ill, or injured, they can be right pains in the ass.”

“Amen,” Lillian replied.

“Lillian,” Charles reprimanded mildly, although he completely agreed with the housekeeper. “Thank you, Nurse Hurst. Will you be staying for lunch?”

“Oh, no, thanks Charles,” the nurse smiled, packing up her medical case and discarding the old bandages. “I have some errands to run before night shift at the clinic tonight.”