THE CHEMIST SHATTERS the last bottle of vodka over the garbage can, spraying glass and alcohol on his heavy work gloves, a shard bouncing off the facial netting on his helmet. He’s in his greenhouse. It’s dark, quiet. Night is the best time to work, because insect activity is minimal.
He reaches into the glass shards and fishes out the bottle neck, moving with speed and efficiency. He’s getting near the end, a culmination of years of effort. This should be savored. But all of the recent excitement has put him behind schedule, and he has to catch up.
He places the bottle neck on his workbench and uses a hammer and pliers to break all of the glass away from the aluminum cap. When he’s finished, the cap, with its tamper-proof ring along the bottom edge, is intact.
Next he selects an identical brand of vodka, and twists off its top. The tamper-proof ring separates along the perforated line where it is attached to the cap and remains on the bottle neck. He snips the ring off using nail clippers, pours out four ounces of vodka, and adds an equal amount of colorless, odorless ethylene chlorohydrin. It blends invisibly with the liquor.
Then he takes the intact cap-the one he removed from the broken bottle-and carefully screws it onto the full bottle. It now appears to be new, unopened. He places it in the cardboard box next to the eleven other poisoned bottles of alcohol, and gets started on the beer.
Beer is even easier to tamper with. A local brewing supply shop, the same place he got some of his hydroponics equipment, also sells bottle cappers. He carefully pries the tops off of a dozen popular import beer bottles, adds a few drops of conotoxin to each, and then uses the bench capper to reseal the caps until they’re as tight as when they left the brewery.
After finishing a full case of beer, he stands and stretches. There are things that need to be double-checked. He makes sure the Little Otter has a full charge. He lays out the dry suit, places a bottle of talc next to it. Tests the gauge on the nitrox canister.
Then, outside, he changes out of his protective suit and checks the cement mixer, which has another three yards ready. It takes ten minutes to pour. He’s an expert with the forklift, and gets it into place on the first try. Two more to go. He loads the mixer with three more bags. Adds a touch of aluminum. A dash of diesel. A healthy handful of roofing nails.
Inside, he practices for the last time with the TelePC. He’s adjusted for delays. He’s taken the route himself, so the timing should be perfect. This should all work out.
Finally, he uses spell-check on the letter, and prints out a copy.
This will be a nice surprise for Lieutenant Jacqueline Daniels. A beautiful end to a beautiful relationship.
After six years, three months, and thirteen days, Tracey will finally get her revenge.
And then he’ll get his revenge.