The Devil's Landscape

Ten

Steven stood in the darkness of his empty flat for a few minutes looking out the window at the lights of the river traffic. It moved slowly and the lights were pretty. He felt uneasy and concerned about Lucy Barrowman. He had believed the situation to be manageable until she’d told him about the attack on her husband and the fact that, despite the experience, he still wanted to continue working with Lawler.

Although he hadn’t said so to Lucy — because she needed reassurance not cause for further anxiety — that took things to a new level. This was not the normal behaviour of a person whose life had been in danger. Joe and Jill Public would have been more than happy to have the emergency services appear on the scene — the more the merrier — and to have had medical checks carried out and reassurance provided. There was a real risk that Barrowman had stopped rationalising his association with Lawler and had fallen completely under his spell. If that were so, Lucy could be in danger. One thing was for sure, if there was to be any chance of recovering the situation, Barrowman had to be stopped from seeing Lawler.

The phone rang and broke his train of thought. It was Tally.

‘Where have you been?’ I’ve called twice, the last time half an hour ago.

‘I went to meet a young lady.’

‘I should have known,’ said Tally. ‘Turn my back for ten minutes and you’re out on the pull.’

‘I can hear you sharpening your scalpel.’

‘No, I’m going to use a blunt one.’

‘I went to see Lucy Barrowman. She has fears for her husband.’

‘With cause?’ Tally asked.

‘I think maybe.’

‘Oh dear, so what’s the plan?’

‘He has to be kept away from Lawler. I’m going to speak to John in the morning and maybe I’ll pay the director of Moorlock Hall a visit before the world and his wife turn up.’

‘You don’t think a D notice will be issued?’

‘I can’t see it,’ said Steven. ‘It’s not a matter of national security and whoever set up Moorlock Hall in the first place was clearly in the wrong — legally, morally, politically. Common sense will be excluded from any argument to the contrary.’

‘I suppose.’

‘How’s your mother?’

‘She’s stable and comfortable, but the next 48 hours will be crucial.’

‘Of course. Did you ask to see the X-rays for yourself?’

‘No,’ growled Tally. ‘I’m not the sort to mess with other people’s egos and orthopaedic surgeons have big hammers and sharp saws.’

‘Good thought.’

‘Apart from that... a nurse told me it was a clean break.’

‘Good,’ said Steven with a smile.

‘It’s ages since we’ve been apart.’

‘I know, I don’t like it.’

‘Me neither, talk to you tomorrow.’

Steven was conscious of the fact that Owen Barrowman had not phoned him and this was another source of worry. Maybe he hadn’t seen the note... or maybe he hadn’t come home and stayed in the lab working all night. He was about to try calling him when John Macmillan arrived and Steven told him all that had happened at Moorlock Hall. He unloaded all his fears about Barrowman’s state of mind. ‘We have to stop him having any further contact with Lawler.’

‘No question,’ agreed Macmillan.

‘Did you tell the Home Secretary you were calling a code red on what was going on in Professor Lindstrom’s lab and what was going on with the funding for her research?’

‘I did, naming you as lead investigator.’

‘Good. Any problems?’

‘No,’ mused Macmillan turning to gaze out of the window with an innocent expression. ‘Mind you, I didn’t mention we knew about MI5’s involvement,’ he murmured.

Steven smiled. ‘An understandable oversight.’

‘Well, she didn’t mention it either.’

The signalling of a code red did not imply anything as dramatic as it sounded. It was simply a notification to all government bodies that Sci-Med was actively investigating something it deemed to be important. Any named investigator in the operation — in this case, Steven — was to be accorded every assistance from all public service bodies including the police in whichever area he was operating, should he request it. Cooperation was mandatory. He was also licensed to carry a firearm should he believe it necessary, although by choice he rarely did. There was also a dedicated phone line he could call at any hour of the day or night to seek expert technical information and advice.

Jean Roberts gave Steven her, ‘here we go again’ smile as he came out of Macmillan’s office. ‘How can I help?’ she asked.

‘I need to see Moorlock Hall for myself and talk to the medical director before any story breaks in the papers,’ said Steven. ‘I guess that means today.’

‘Anything else?’

‘I need to know where it is.’

Jean stifled a giggle. ‘Give me thirty minutes to make some calls. Go have a coffee.’

Steven did as he was told and tried contacting Owen Barrowman, first at the lab where he was told he hadn’t come in yet and then at home where there was no reply. He’d try later.

Steven explored a wide range of expletives as his Porsche struggled with the surface of the road leading up to Moorlock Hall. He even found himself apologising to it when he failed to avoid a particularly bad pothole. When he finally came to a halt in the small car park he sat for a couple minutes, just savouring the stillness broken only by metallic contraction sounds from the car.

Steven showed his Sci-Med ID and said that he was expected. The owner of the eyes behind the grill responded by admitting him and putting him through the standard security measures before taking him to see Groves who invited him to sit with a wave of his good hand.

‘For a secret establishment, we seem to be doing quite a reasonable impression of a tourist attraction,’ said Groves. ‘What exactly is Sci-Med?’

Steven told him and got an approving nod. ‘How can I help?’

‘I believe Dr Owen Barrowman from Capital University has been coming here regularly as part of his research project into the genetic and biochemical make up of psychopathic killers.’

‘He has, but only one of our inmates agreed to take part in his study.’

‘Yes, Malcolm Lawler... who “took part” the other day by attempting to murder him.’

Groves froze for a moment. His eyes showed what Steven saw as a combination of disappointment and resignation. ‘You know about that, do you,’ he said quietly.

‘His wife told me. I understand you all conspired to cover it up?’

‘Owen said that he didn’t want any fuss and I have to confess I didn’t go to any great lengths to dissuade him. If I’m honest it was music to my ears. We had an inspection in the offing and an incident like that was the last thing we needed.’

Steven nodded, impressed by the man’s honest appraisal of the situation. ‘How did the inspection go?’

‘They found failings,’ replied Groves.

‘Serious?’

‘I’m to be retired.’

Steven was taken aback. He hadn’t expected to hear anything like that. He’d been assuming that anything bad emerging from the inquiry would be concerned with the hiding of the existence of the place rather than any criticism of the way it was run. ‘I don’t understand. What sort of failings?’

‘It would appear that certain elements of our coalition government are worried about the lack of spiritual and pastoral care being offered to our patients.’

‘You can’t be serious.’

Groves gave a little shake of the head as if he couldn’t believe it himself. He sighed and said, ‘There are those who would believe that no one is beyond redemption and that every effort should be made to achieve this. Our efforts in keeping the vilest creatures who ever walked the Earth away from society was not good enough for one such politician, Mrs Lillian Leadbetter. She and her band of all-party day-trippers wanted rehabilitation. She demanded that souls be saved and the hand of forgiveness extended. I, as the culprit who had made no effort to introduce remedial classes or even replace our last chaplain when he left over a year ago, was judged to be a major impediment to Mrs Leadbetter’s reformist ambitions. As a consequence, I’ve been invited to consider my position.’

‘Didn’t she understand anything about what these people did?’ Steven exclaimed.

‘I think she put her hands over her ears and hummed la la la — metaphorically speaking. In her eyes, I was a dinosaur trying to excuse my insensitivity.’

‘But didn’t she understand anything about the reasons for setting up Moorlock Hall in the first place? Surely, she knew what happened when Clifford Sutton fooled all the experts and was returned to the community to rape and murder all over again? Wasn’t that a wee clue for the honourable member?’

Groves made an attempt at a smile which only accentuated his lack of facial muscle control. ‘The committee actually interviewed Lawler...’

‘And?’

‘He put on a performance that would have had him graduate cum laudae from RADA. I damned nearly applauded myself. He had them positively eating out of his hand. He was a poor misunderstood victim of an uncaring society that had never given him a chance. Yes, he had done wrong, terrible wrong, but he could see the error of his ways. He would give his very life if only he could turn the clock back and undo the harm he had done to all these “poor people”. Well, I won’t be here to see what the lying bastard gets out of it. Who said you couldn’t fool all the people all of the time?’

‘Surely there must be an appeal process you can go through?’

Groves shook his head. ‘I don’t have the stomach for a fight. My pension will see me to the end of the road with the occasional glass of malt. I’ll settle for that.’

Steven nodded then asked as an afterthought, ‘Why didn’t you appoint a new chaplain?’

‘Because I saw what they did to the last one.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘Father Patrick Burns was under no illusions when he came here. He knew — or at least thought he knew — what he was up against when he took on the task of persuading Lawler and the others that they should seek forgiveness from a higher power without reminding them too stridently or too often that they certainly weren’t going to find it here on Earth. Despite having contact with them only twice a week, they utterly destroyed him. He lost his faith and was unable to continue as a parish priest after seeking solace at the bottom of too many glasses. The last I heard was that he was recovering in a seminary in France.’

‘Good God.’

Groves raised his eyebrows at Steven’s expression. ‘I still remember what he said to me after seeing Lawler for the last time. He said, “It’s not repentance Lawler needs... it’s exorcism”.’

Steven thought about this for a few moments before saying, ‘I really came here today to talk about the growing influence that Lawler has been exerting over Owen Barrowman. I think the fact that he’s a scientist and was aware of the dangers and could even talk about them tended to disguise the fact that he was succumbing to them.’

‘I thought he was managing well,’ said Groves. ‘He’s had a few bad experiences of course, when hearing what Lawler did first hand, but I thought he was on top of things. And then the attack happened... and I did wonder when he didn’t want a fuss...’

‘Why was he left alone with Lawler?’

‘He wasn’t,’ replied Groves.

‘I understood from his wife that he was alone when Lawler attacked him?’

‘You’ve spoken to his wife recently?’

‘Yes, his boss and his colleagues have all been noticing changes come over him since he started working with Lawler and, of course, his wife, Lucy, was subject to dealing with them more than anyone else. I saw her last night: she’s a nervous wreck. She’s afraid of him. His paranoia even includes her in some imagined conspiracy to steal his research. He mustn’t be allowed anywhere near Lawler ever again.’

‘Good God, I knew there was a risk,’ said Groves, ‘but I really believed he could handle it... but maybe that’s what I wanted to think.’

‘In many ways he has himself to blame,’ said Steven. ‘He believes Lawler is the key to a big scientific discovery and he’s the one who’s going to make it, nobody else He needed Lawler for access to samples and data and hasn’t been willing to let anything or anybody get in his way.’

‘And now the tail is now wagging the dog,’ said Groves.

‘I think so,’ said Steven.

Groves told Steven about Clements and his part in the attack on Barrowman. ‘That’s the way it seems to happen,’ said Steven. ‘One minute you’re full of loathing for an individual, then quite suddenly it’s replaced by unquestioning admiration and a willingness to lay down your life for them.’

‘I should have cottoned on...’ said Groves, hanging his head. ‘It must have been the attack that opened up Owen’s mind to suggestion from Lawler. His defences would have been minimal having been in fear of his life and it left him completely susceptible to what Lawler was filling his mind with... Lawler got to him. It was my fault.’

‘I’m sure Barrowman’s decision to have no action taken against Lawler would have sounded perfectly rational to you at the time,’ said Steven. ‘It may have been what you wanted to hear for other reasons, but you had no good cause to doubt him. It’s hindsight that’s illuminating the scene for both of us.’

‘Thanks for that,’ said Groves.

‘I take it you’ve been told the inspection report is going to make the papers if the government can’t make a D notice stick?’

‘I had heard. Someone from the Home Office rang me to apologise for the inspection — said it was all a mistake and should never have happened, but it was too late to do anything about it.’

‘A nice touch,’ said Steven sourly. ‘It’s amazing what damage a loose-tongued drunk at a party can end up doing.’

‘Damn him to hell,’ said Groves.

Steven asked a few questions about the organisation and running of Moorlock Hall, but this was more to justify his visit rather than be the basis of any kind of formal inquiry. Mrs Leadbetter’s conclusions had changed all that. It was clear that there was no chance that the government was going to be able to hide her findings behind a D notice. He personally had decided that Groves was a perfectly decent man who was about to be pilloried in the press because some self-important politician had seen the chance to parade her precious liberal values on a stage provided for her by the press and all to catch the eye of the voters and advance her career.

‘Did you particularly want to meet Lawler?’ Groves asked.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘I’ll show you around anyway.’

Steven called Barrowman’s lab number at Capital from the car, only to be told that he hadn’t been in so he tried his home number again. A male voice answered but it wasn’t Barrowman.

‘Who is this?’ Steven asked.

‘Who’s asking?’

‘Dr Steven Dunbar. Who are you?’

‘Detective Sergeant Riley. Can I ask your business please?’

‘I’d like to speak to Owen Barrowman, what’s going on?’

‘I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.’

Steven said who he was, adding that he was on an active investigation and telling the policeman he could check his status with the Home Office. It was important he speak with Barrowman.

‘Sorry sir, I can’t see your ID over the phone.’

Steven ended the call and called John Macmillan.

‘Steven, we’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Barrowman’s wife is in hospital and he’s disappeared.’

‘Hospital?’

‘She was badly beaten.’

Steven felt a crushing weight land on his shoulders. ‘By Owen?’ he asked in trepidation.

‘They think so.’

‘Oh my God, which hospital is she in?’

Macmillan told him.

‘I’m going there.’