The Devil's Landscape

Fourteen

Steven called Lukas Neubauer at the Lundborg labs and exchanged pleasantries before coming to the point. ‘What are the chances of you dropping everything and going through the entire contents of a computer?’

‘About the same as Arsenal winning the Premier League.’

‘That good,’ exclaimed Steven, knowing how big an Arsenal fan Lukas was.

‘I wish. What are you looking for?’

Steven told him.

‘So, let me see, you have DNA sequences from these people and you’re looking for some clear differences from the norm that they all have in common?’ asked Lukas.

‘And anything else interesting you happen to notice along the way.’

‘It might help if you tell me what’s going on here.’

‘How about I bring the computer round and then I’ll take you for a pint and we can talk?’

‘Do you think I’m that easy?’

‘All right, two pints.’

It had been some time since the two men had last seen each other, but their history of having worked closely and successfully together and even faced danger in the past ensured that they quickly slipped into being comfortable in each other’s company. Exchanges of family news — Lukas had twin boys — gave way to Steven giving Lukas a detailed rundown on what Owen Barrowman had been working on.

‘Ah, epigenetics,’ said Lukas without following up.

Steven gave him a full minute to stare at the surface of the table before asking, ‘Is that a problem?’

Lukas came out of his trance and said, ‘When Crick and Watson described the structure of DNA and how it replicated it was such a wonderful moment in science. The world smiled. Nothing but good could come from it.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Steven.

‘I have a very different feel about epigenetics,’ said Lukas. ‘I know it’s early days but it holds so many secrets.’

‘Is that bad?’

‘There may be some we’ll have difficulty coping with...’

Steven frowned and said, ‘I never thought I’d hear that from a scientist.’

Lukas shrugged and said, When I was a young student in Prague one of my lecturers was very fond of quoting from an English poet. He who pries into every cloud may be hit by a thunderbolt.

‘Hardly a comfort for researchers,’ said Steven.

‘I understand that protection can be achieved through the intake of Pilsner beer,’ said Lukas eyeing his empty glass.

‘Coming up.’

Despite it being after seven Steven decided that he would go in to the Home Office to leave Jean Roberts a note. He was surprised to find her still there.

‘No home to go to?’

‘Choir practice night,’ she replied. ‘It’s easier to go directly from here. I could ask the same of you.’

‘I thought I’d come by and leave you a note. Tally’s away at the moment.’ Steven told Jean of her mother’s accident.

‘Nasty, I hope she pulls through. What can I do for you?’

Steven asked her if she could dig out information about the fire in Dorothy Lindstrom’s lab at Yale University which had claimed the lives of two of her post docs.

‘Will do.’

‘I don’t suppose John’s still here?’

‘You’ve just missed him. He’s had a hugely frustrating day trying to get information out of the intelligence services about why they blocked funding for Professor Lindstrom.’

Steven nodded. It was no surprise. Sci-Med and MI5 had an uneasy relationship. Five thought Sci-Med lacked discipline, Sci-Med thought Five lacked imagination, but when push came to shove they tended to cover each other’s backs.

‘Any word from the police about Barrowman?’

‘Not a peep.’

‘Really?’ said Steven. ‘That part of London must have more cameras than a Paparazzi party.’

‘They picked up the private ambulance used in the kidnapping on CCTV, but it disappeared from view and was later found abandoned down a lane. They reckon a switch to another vehicle was made within a few minutes of the snatch and in a place where the kidnappers knew they’d be out of sight of cameras.’

‘So, the bottom line is the police have no idea where he is?’

‘Correct.’

Steven mulled over what he’d learned from the day as he walked home. Lukas had agreed to take a look at what was on Barrowman’s computer, but the reservations he’d expressed about epigenetics had been a revelation. He’d asked him what he’d meant by there being too many secrets to cope with, but to no avail. Did he really think there were some things better not to know? Steven shook his head, subconsciously dismissing the notion. He’d always seen Lukas as the perfect model of a scientist, intelligent, endlessly curious and totally without bias. Facts were facts and were there to be discovered, but if someone like him thought that there might be a downside to discovery... maybe he should bear that in mind?

Steven turned his attention to John’s problem with MI5. Five not answering questions was par for the course — secrets were their business and it was a way of life — but when the man asking the questions was Sir John Macmillan, a man with the highest security clearance and the ear of the Home Secretary, what did they think they were playing at? Surely, they must know that the next step would be John asking the Home Secretary personally. He felt sure that was exactly what would happen in the morning. In the meantime, he he invoked the maxim about clouds having silver linings and decided that Five’s continued awkwardness surrounding Dorothy Lindstrom’s research made it easier for him to target them as prime suspect for having snatched Barrowman and not those who were funding the research. It would also explain the insider knowledge and expertise shown in the operation. All he had to do now was figure out what Five were up to.

Easy peasy, he thought as he remembered his daughter Jenny’s favourite saying when she was younger; everything was easy peasy until proven otherwise. It had been a couple of months since he last made the trip up to Scotland to see her. It used to be every other weekend until her involvement in out of school activities had multiplied to such an extent that she seemed to have less free time than he did.

He had always known that this was bound to happen. Jenny had lived almost her entire life as a much-loved member of another family and the next stage would be a growing independence. The main thing was that she was happy and by all accounts she was. He could hardly get a word in when he phoned, she was so full of news and enthusiasm about everything she was doing. He’d given up counting the clubs and societies she belonged to, but thinking about her made him decide to phone her when he got in.

Susan, his sister-in-law, answered and gave him a run down on what was happening in Glenvane and how Jenny was doing at school. ‘And now the bad news, Steven... she’s not in at the moment.’

‘Not in?’ Steven exclaimed.

‘She’s over at Jason’s.’

‘Jason?’

‘Her boyfriend.’

‘Her what?’

‘Steven, she’s a teenager. It happens, he’s a very nice boy.’

‘She’s a ch...’

‘No, she isn’t, she’s a young woman and a very sensible one if it helps.’

Steven struggled to get over the shock but finally said reluctantly, ‘Suppose you’re right, you usually are.’

‘Thank you, I am in this case.’

Steven looked at his watch then asked anxiously, ‘How will she get home?’

‘Jason’s dad is driving her over.’

‘Good... shall I try tomorrow?’

‘She has karate, but she’ll be in by eight.’

‘Right,’ said Steven distantly. He put down the phone, suddenly feeling very old.

Tally called while he was pouring a whisky. ‘How’s your mum? He asked.’

‘Sober, have you been drinking?’

‘How on earth?...’

When Tally stopped laughing she said, ‘A lucky guess. Susan called me. She was worried that you were upset about Jenny having a boyfriend.’

‘Why do I get the feeling the monstrous regiment is ganging up on me?’

‘I know she’ll always be your little girl, Steven, but she’s growing up. She’s a teenager and she has started to notice boys. She’s also a very well brought up young lady and you have nothing to worry about.’

‘If you say so,’ Steven conceded.

‘I do say so. Mum’s fine, I’m planning on coming home tomorrow. Now tell me about your day.’

‘Bad doesn’t begin to cover it. Barrowman’s still missing, John’s on a collision course with MI5 and someone planted an idea in my head that just won’t go away.’

‘Tell me about it.’

Steven told her what Tyler had casually pointed out about Dorothy Lindstrom’s post docs.

‘Do you think he did it deliberately?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then that must mean that he thinks there was something dodgy about the American deaths?’

‘It was something he mentioned as we parted company so I didn’t have the chance to quiz him, but I’ve asked Jean to dig up what she can.’

‘You could also ask her current American post-doc, she must have been there at the time of the fire?’

‘You’re right. Maybe I’ll do that while John is bending the ear of the Home Secretary about Five’s refusal to talk.’

‘Suppose she refuses too?’

‘He won’t take that lying down. You know what he’s like about Sci-Med’s right to investigate without government obstruction.’

‘Could be a big day tomorrow,’ said Tally.

‘It will be, you’re coming home.’

‘Oh, Mr Smoothie strikes again,’ laughed Tally. ‘I’m all of a quiver.’

‘Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

In the morning Steven decided to wait until Jean had come up with a file on the American deaths before talking to Jane Lincoln. He would use that as a primer to highlight any questions he thought needed asking. In the meantime, he would visit Lucy Barrowman who he found alert and looking much better than last time. ‘You’re a quick healer.’

‘Just as well,’ said Lucy wryly.

Steven saw once again the strength of Lucy Barrowman’s character. She’d had time to think about things and, unlike many women, she wasn’t going to search for excuses for her husband’s awful behaviour. He sensed that Barrowman had already been consigned to yesterday.

‘Have the police found him yet?’ she asked.

Steven shook his head. ‘He’s completely disappeared.’

‘Maybe they aren’t looking hard enough,’ Lucy said with barely disguised bitterness.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘The whole mess,’ said Lucy. ‘Secret prisons for the criminally insane that no one — not even the government of the day — is supposed to know about, MPs using leaked information to create a big scandal for their own ends. Liberal lefties full of concern for the criminals rather than their victims. My husband attacking me after getting involved with these people. I’m sure there are those in power who just see it all as a huge embarrassment and who would like the whole damned thing to disappear.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Steven agreed, ‘and maybe it will. I hear that Mrs Leadbetter’s concern for the denizens of Moorlock Hall is not being shared too deeply by the general public. That being the case, the papers will drop it and move on.’

‘Good.’

Steven changed the subject. ‘The Lindstrom lab has had a chance to examine Owen’s notes and computer files...’

‘And?’

‘The results of his studies on psychopathic killers in Carstairs, Rampton, Broadmoor and all the other places he visited are there with one major exception.’

‘Moorlock Hall?’

‘Correct. He’s obviously hidden anything to do with Lawler.’

‘The special one,’ said Lucy

‘The one he thought was special from the outset,’ agreed Steven. ‘Dorothy is pleased with what he came up with from his work on the others and thinks it will all be publishable so she’s not too concerned that one patient is missing.’

‘I take it Owen didn’t talk to her about Lawler?’

‘Looks that way.’

‘Why wouldn’t he do that?’ asked Lucy looking genuinely puzzled.

‘I think he’s discovered why Lawler is special — a major discovery that he wants to keep to himself and get all the credit for when it’s published.’

‘All this is about ego?’ Lucy exclaimed.

‘It’s about people.’

‘Yeah, they’re great...’

‘And now for the big question... have you any idea where he might have hidden his material on Lawler?’

‘If I did I’d gladly tell you, but he didn’t confide in me at all. I suppose he must have loaded it on to some computer cloud.’

‘Possible,’ Steven agreed, ‘but I tend to think that he wouldn’t put all his eggs in the one basket to quote you quoting him. I think he’d keep something more tangible than a cloud account somewhere.’

‘Like a disk in a bank vault?’

‘Something like that.’

‘I’m not sure if he’d know how to go about that, I wouldn’t. It’s something you see in the movies.’

Steven smiled. ‘Used by rich people to hide money and valuables from the tax man.’

‘We never had that problem,’ said Lucy with the faintest tinge of wistfulness in her voice.

‘Well, if you think of anything let me know,’ said Steven getting up to go.

Lucy’s expression froze, causing Steven to ask, ‘Are you okay?’

‘I er... don’t have your number... I mean I don’t have your card any more...’

Steven closed his eyes for a moment as the awfulness came back. ‘God, I’m sorry,’ he said, leaving one on the bedside table.

‘Like I said,’ said Lucy, ‘it wasn’t your fault.’