CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #2
“How do you mean?” Miles asked.
“Well, if it came all at once, it would be overpowering and you’d know something was wrong right away. But if it’s a slow release, you wouldn’t be as aware of it. The smell of it and the symptoms would come on slowly and then by the time you realize something is wrong, it’s far too late.”
“I’d say it was the latter in each case,” Miles said.
Thompson nodded grimly. “Then that suggests extensive testing and calculation. They've probably been practicing for months, maybe years.”
“Professor, is there anything else you can tell us about your work since leaving Meridian Chemical?” Vic asked. “Any other activities or interests?”
Thompson hesitated for a moment. Miles assumed he felt the finger was once again pointing at him. “I've been working with local community groups on environmental health education. Nothing high-profile, just trying to help people understand the chemical risks in their daily lives.”
“What kind of education?”
“Teaching residents how to identify potential contamination sources, how to advocate for better air quality monitoring, how to interpret water quality reports. Basic scientific literacy so people can protect themselves.”
Miles felt his suspicions about Thompson continuing to fade. “Why keep it low-profile?”
“After the media attention from my firing, I realized that being too visible attracts the wrong kind of attention. I'm more effective working quietly with people who genuinely want to learn.”
“You mean you don't want to be seen as a troublemaker,” Vic said.
“I suppose some might see it that way,” he said with a strained smile. “I want to help people, not create controversy. There's a difference between educating the public and crusading against the system.”
Thompson's distinction struck Miles as significant.
A true vigilante would be more interested in dramatic gestures than quiet education.
And if he was indeed behind this awful series of events, why would he still be present and accounted-for at an educational capacity, easily located and unprotected?
“Professor,” he said, “if you had to guess… do you think our killer is motivated by similar concerns about chemical contamination?”
The man thought it over for a while, clearly not liking the idea.
“Possibly, but they've taken a completely different approach.
Violence doesn't expose corporate malfeasance or educate the public. It just creates fear and gives authorities an excuse to crack down on legitimate environmental advocacy.”
“So, you think the murders are counterproductive?”
“Absolutely. If someone wanted to raise awareness about chemical dangers, there are legal and effective ways to do it. Killing innocent people only discredits the entire movement. I suppose it would be a very effective way to get your point across, though.”
Miles and Vic exchanged glances. Thompson's reasoning was sound, and his continued cooperation suggested genuine innocence rather than calculated deception. Miles felt a little surprised at himself, too, for being able to surmise all of that in such a brief encounter. Maybe his in-field talents were developing faster than he’d thought.
“One more question,” Miles said. “You mentioned that working with fluorine requires specialized knowledge. What specific skills would our killer need?”
“For starters, an advanced understanding of gas handling, pressure systems, chemical reactions under various conditions… especially if it’s being released on a timer or remote.
They'd need to know how fluorine behaves in different environments, how it interacts with building materials, how to calculate proper concentrations for specific outcomes.”
“That's a fairly narrow skill set,” Vic observed.
“Very narrow. We're talking about someone with extensive industrial experience or advanced graduate training in gas-phase chemistry. Plus, access to equipment worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
Miles felt both frustration and appreciation. Thompson's expertise had helped them understand the killer's capabilities, but it was also making clear how sophisticated their opponent was.
“Thank you for your time and cooperation,” Vic said, closing her Notes app and pocketing her phone. “We may need to speak with you again as our investigation continues. Would that be okay?”
“Of course,” he said sternly. “I hope you catch whoever's doing this.” Thompson's expression was earnest. “Using chemistry to harm innocent people is a perversion of everything science should represent. It’s…well, it’s disgusting.”
As they left the classroom, Miles felt the weight of another dead end.
Thompson had the scientific knowledge but lacked the mindset for vigilante violence.
His dedication to legitimate education and obvious horror at the murders convinced Miles they were looking elsewhere for their killer.
Miles was sure none of these were rock solid reasons to dismiss him, but both he and Vic seemed to be in agreement.
“Well?” Miles asked as they walked down the hallway.
“He's not our guy. Too committed to working within the system, too focused on education rather than revenge. What do you think?”
“I agree. But his insights into the killer's capabilities were useful.”
They emerged from the Science Building into the afternoon sunshine.
Students were still moving across the campus quad, backpacks slung over shoulders, absorbed in conversations about classes and weekend plans.
The normalcy of college life felt surreal after discussing sophisticated murder techniques.
“So where does that leave us?” Miles asked as they approached their car.
“With three victims, multiple false leads, and a killer who's still out there planning his next attack. Or maybe he’s already started it by planting one of those damned devices.”
“I can’t help but feel we're missing something fundamental,” Miles said as they got into the car. “Someone with this level of expertise doesn't just appear out of nowhere. They have training, connections, access to equipment and facilities. Someone like that has to leave a trace…”
“If this is part of a larger organization like you’re theorizing, our killer might be getting support from outside sources. Just like Diana Hartwell.”
“Which makes them much harder to track using conventional methods.”
Once again, he wasn’t sure how to deal with his theory being taken seriously.
They drove in silence for several minutes, both lost in thought.
Miles stared out the passenger window at the suburban landscape, wondering how many potential victims were going about their daily routines while a deadly device was planted in a duct or under a seat somewhere just within reach.
It was a terrifying visual, both horrifying and motivating in equal measure.