Altered Egos (11 page)

Despite Paul Farley’s careful planning, the raid on Helm Pharm was a disaster. He wasn’t sure quite how their plans had been blown, but the police were there before them. When he saw the line of officers waiting in front of the gates to the laboratory, Paul noticed they were reinforced by a strong contingent of security guards inside the pharmaceutical company grounds.

Security lights blazed from the roof of each building, flooding the area in harsh detail. Any attempt to enter the laboratory by stealth was obviously going to be doomed to failure. If he’d any remaining doubt that their plans had been leaked, these were dispelled when he spotted cameras from two local TV stations set up ready to record the action. Alongside one of these he noticed a photographer from
The Netherdale Gazette
.

Paul had a quick word with a couple of his most trusted comrades. ‘Spread the message round everyone. The entry’s a bust. Stick to a peaceful demo outside the gates. If anyone wants to go for a sit down protest it’s up to them. I’m going to try and find out how we’ve been rumbled.’

He headed for the place where the press photographer was standing, her camera already snapping stills of the developing protest. He knew her, slightly. Becky Pollard was a customer of the building society where Paul worked. Alongside her was another of their customers. He greeted them with a cheerfulness he was far from feeling. ‘How did you get to hear about this?’

He addressed the question to Becky, but it was Detective Inspector Nash who answered. ‘I hope you weren’t considering anything more radical than this?’

Nash gestured to the lines of chanting, banner waving protesters. ‘Of course not,’ Paul lied. ‘Even if we had been, it wouldn’t have been much good. How did you know we’d be here?’

Nash smiled. ‘You should choose a different pub to meet in. Or pick a night when I’m not in the other bar. I saw your lot last night and guessed this place would be the object of your attention.’

‘We only wanted to draw attention to what they’re doing in there.’ Paul jerked a thumb in the direction of the laboratory. ‘To put them on notice that we’re aware of the cruelty they’re inflicting on poor defenceless animals. And I suppose I’d better get on with it.’ He stepped away to join the rest of the demonstrators. ‘But we’ll be back, make no mistake,’ he muttered – to himself.

Later, as Nash and Becky were dining in their favourite Italian restaurant, Nash fell into an abstracted silence. Becky watched him and waited, knowing he was trying to work something out. It was some time before he came out of his reverie. So long in fact that Gino, the proprietor of La Giaconda, was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with the seafood salad Nash had ordered.

As her companion lifted his head from contemplating his food, Becky grinned. ‘Welcome back, maestro. Care to give us the benefit of your genius?’ She saw Nash’s puzzled expression, ‘You’ve been toying with your food so long, poor Gino’s quite worried.’

‘I was thinking about something,’ Nash said feebly.

‘We know,’ Becky gestured to the diners at the surrounding tables, ‘we could all hear the cogs grinding. So what was it you were thinking about so deeply?’

Nash hesitated for a moment, ‘OK, let me ask you something. What does the word pharmaceutical, suggest to you.’

‘Medicines,’ she replied promptly. ‘Drugs, tablets, injections’ – she screwed her face up – ‘and cough mixture.’

Nash smiled. ‘Exactly, that’s just what I thought. So, answer me this. What use would the military have for a pharmaceutical company? I don’t just mean as a supplier of aspirin, or any of the proprietary medicines. But something that is cloaked in secrecy and attracts such a high level of security that anything connected to that company is handled by Military Intelligence?’

Becky frowned. She thought for a few moments before shaking her head. ‘I’ve no idea. Why do you ask?’

Nash glanced round; then began to explain the background to the Adam North murder. Or rather, what little he knew. He concentrated on his frustrated attempts to speak to the dead man’s father. ‘None of it makes sense. If the company was an electronics firm, or involved in the design or manufacture of weapons systems I could understand the military’s involvement, but a drugs company….’ His voice trailed off into silence.

A second later he looked across the table, his face animated. ‘Do you recall me telling you about the time when I was having really vivid nightmares? Almost hallucinations?’

Becky nodded. ‘At the time I just thought it was part of your weird mind.’

‘Takes one to know one. Anyway, the doctor at Netherdale General said they were due to a mixture of the medication I was taking, combined with alcohol. His exact words were, “Taking either of them on their own wouldn’t be a problem. Put them together, and they act like a mood altering drug. Take them for long enough and they’ll not only be hallucinogenic, they’ll start to affect your behaviour.”’

‘Like LSD you mean?’

‘Something of the sort, although the stuff I was on wasn’t anywhere near as powerful as LSD. But, given what he told me, suppose Helm Pharm is researching and developing similar sorts of drugs for military use.’

‘This is beginning to sound like something from an American spy film. Or could it be you’re back on the medication?’

‘The American connection might not be too far from the
truth.’ Nash ignored the insult. ‘Remember I said Dr North spent a long time working in America? Well, I read something a while back about a project called MKULTRA. It was a CIA experiment that involved them feeding drugs to GIs, right through from the 1950s to the 1970s. Unfortunately, much of what is known about it can’t be ratified, because the director of the CIA ordered all the files to be destroyed following the Watergate scandal. But if you think about it, it makes sense. It would explain why those serving in Vietnam had such easy access to drugs.’

‘That sounds really cruel and horrible. From what I’ve heard about drugs like that, the effects can last for years. If not for a lifetime.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Nash said with feeling. ‘We come across it all too often at work. I can’t prove any of this, but to be honest I can’t come up with any other logical explanation for the military being so paranoid about protecting Helm Pharm and their employees. It might be sinister in one sense, but fortunately, it doesn’t seem to be sinister with regard to my investigation.’ He paused and frowned. ‘On the other hand, it could be within my jurisdiction.’

‘I don’t get you.’

‘It would be within my jurisdiction if the murders were committed by someone who’d been fed those drugs.’

‘It all seems a bit far-fetched to me.’

Nash sighed. ‘I suppose it is. I guess I’m just clutching at straws because I’m unable to make any headway in solving the case.’

The days passed in a whirl of activity. Jessica had been running, pumping weights and doing circuit training like she’d never dreamed of. Once he’d explained a little of what had happened to his family and hers, Jessica plunged into the routine with heightened enthusiasm. She still wasn’t sure what he had in mind, although she’d asked more than once. ‘All in good time,’ was all he would say.

The training was having an effect on her. For the first couple of days she’d had to work hard to relieve the stiffness and exhaustion brought about by the exercise. Now she felt fitter and stronger, more alive than at any time she could remember. He’d told her about the drugs too. Once he’d explained their purpose, there seemed no point in disguising them in her food or drinks. They took them together, making a small ritual of it, almost like toasting one another.

A couple of days before, they’d returned to his house to top up the motorhome’s supply of water and recharge its batteries.

‘I don’t know how you can bear to go inside, knowing what happened here.’

‘I’m here because I have to be, no other reason.’

She saw the grim expression on his face and put her hand on his shoulder. A comradely gesture; nothing more. It worked, he smiled at her.

‘Besides the water and batteries, I need to visit the supermarket. There’s not all that much room in the van’s fridge and the way you trough, it won’t last us much longer.’

‘It’s the exercise. It gives me an appetite.’

They’d been to the supermarket, but for safety, he’d made her remain inside the motorhome. ‘I need food, milk and tea bags, plus one or two other items. I’ve also to visit a couple of other shops. Then we’re off back into the wilds.’

Inside, he was so intent on his purchases he failed to notice the man who’d been so kind to him standing at the next checkout queue. Nash watched the soldier’s purchases going down the conveyor belt. He thought it seemed a lot for a man on his own. Then he noticed a large number of packets of the same item. What on earth, Nash wondered, could he want all those packets of marzipan for? It’s a bit late for Christmas cakes.

Next they went to a DIY store; then to a shop specializing in fishing tackle. Finally, they pulled up outside a mobile phone shop. ‘Last call,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘This time, you go in.’ He handed her a wad of £20 notes. ‘Here’s what I want.’

Back inside the van, Jessica stared at the array of purchases in bewilderment. She’d be fascinated to hear what the items would be used for.

The beds converted into couches. They sat together, watching the small TV. ‘I want to catch the late night local news bulletin,’ he explained.

‘Anything in particular?’

‘There was a demo by animal rights activists outside Helm Pharm. It’ll have been a shambles, but it might give us a few pointers for what we have to do.’

‘What are we going to do, Steve?’ He’d told her his name when he was telling her about Melanie and his daughters.

He explained what he had planned. Told her this was the first stage of the operation. It was then that she understood what the purpose of the training was. But she still couldn’t work out where the marzipan came into his plans. Or the paint and the five mobile phones. And despite trying to wheedle the information out of him, all he would say was, ‘You’ll see soon enough.’

When the bulletin ended he flicked the remote to turn the TV off. ‘Time for bed.’

‘Before that, I want to know something,’ Jessica said.

He looked at her.

‘You’ve told me twice that you killed Mother and Adam. I only have your word for it they’re dead. How do I know you’re not lying? Show me some proof. Or tell me how you killed them.’

He reached across to one of the storage units and pulled open the drawer. He took out two newspaper cuttings and passed them to her. She read them with mounting horror. Now she believed him. With heart and soul she wished she didn’t, wished he’d been lying, but he hadn’t. He saw the tears trickle down her cheeks. He knew he ought to console her. But that wasn’t in his nature. Killers don’t do that.

When the girl was asleep, Steve took out his laptop. The volume had been set to mute, so he was able to check his mail without disturbing her. He felt sorry for Jessica, but knew what he had to do; sympathy was a luxury he could not afford.

He read the e-mail from Eco Sounder with quiet amusement. There was something disarming about the campaigner’s naïveté when it came to planning an event like that evening’s. He hastened to reply. The instructions in his message were clear, concise and detailed. Anyone reading them would have recognized their similarity to a military operation. Which of course it was. He now had a week to make his own preparations. As he closed his e-mail folder he was aware of movement opposite him. He glanced up. Jessica had raised herself on one elbow and was looking at him. ‘What are you doing?’

Her voice was drowsy, heavy with sleep.

‘Just checking my e-mails. Things are moving. We go to phase one tomorrow. Now get some sleep.’

She sat upright. In doing so the duvet fell clear, exposing her breasts. ‘You tell me that, and expect me to sleep. What’s happening tomorrow? Why won’t you give me any details.’

‘Briefing at 0800 hours; after training. Now, cover your gorgeous tits up and go back to sleep.’

Despite her fear, anticipation and the excitement his news had aroused, Jessica fell asleep within minutes. Steve waited until her breathing changed into a regular pattern then settled
down. He’d manage a few hours kip himself. The mental image of her breasts delayed his plans somewhat.

She couldn’t be sure how long she’d been asleep when his hand shook her shoulder. ‘Think yourself lucky,’ he told her in answer to the sleepy protest from under the duvet. ‘At least you haven’t a demented bugler sounding reveille three feet away from your bed.’

Dawn was nowhere near breaking when she stumbled from the motorhome. ‘It’s still dark.’

‘That’s the idea. You don’t imagine we’re going to do this in daylight, do you?’

The run was a nightmare. They went across moorland at seemingly breakneck pace, stumbling and falling, tripping over stones, gorse and heather roots. She lost count of the times he helped her back to her feet. On two occasions, much to her satisfaction, she had to do the same for him when he slipped on ice.

They were back at the motorhome before sunrise. ‘Right, quick shower, breakfast, then the briefing. Oh, and don’t forget, as of today, we move to the next stage of our treatment. That’s essential before we go into action.’

There was no doubt that whatever the training was doing to the rest of her body, her taste buds were benefitting enormously. She devoured the bacon, eggs, sausage and tomatoes he put on her plate, wolfed down several rounds of toast and gulped three mugs of tea without seeming to notice his amusement. ‘Good, now that’s out of the way, I’ll do the washing up. It’s your turn to do latrine duty.’

‘Thanks a bunch,’ Jessica snorted. ‘Why couldn’t I have done it before breakfast?’

‘Didn’t want to put you off your food. You’ve such a picky appetite at the best of times.’

He passed her the keys to the outside lockers. She collected a spade from one; then opened the compartment euphemistically labelled ‘waste’. She eased the unit free and strode off up the moor. The sooner this was done the better.

She returned to the van.

‘Sit down and listen,’ Steve ordered. He began telling her
what they were to do. She listened in silence until he finished.

‘Won’t there be guards?’ she objected.

‘No, with all the spending cutbacks over the past few years, they can’t afford them. They’re relying on secrecy and the remote location to deter anyone wanting to break in. Which of course it does. Except to someone who knows where the place is and what’s inside. Now, here’s what I want you to do. Grab that can of paint’ – he pointed to the kitchen worktop – ‘and get a tablespoon from the drawer. Stir the paint and bring it across here.’

She did as he ordered. As she was stirring the paint to a uniform shade, literally, for the colour was as near to khaki as could be, she glanced over her shoulder. Steve had spread a newspaper over the table and was busy cutting open packet after packet of marzipan. ‘The paint’s ready,’ she told him.

‘Right, bring it here.’

He donned a pair of surgical gloves and pushed one thumb into the centre of a block of the almond paste. ‘Put a couple of spoonfuls of paint in the well,’ he instructed.

He formed the marzipan round the paint and started to mould it between his hands. When he was sure the paint had been distributed evenly, he picked up the next block. ‘Same again.’

Eventually the job was done. ‘Open the oven and pass me one of the trays out. Switch the oven to a low heat. Just enough to warm this lot through.’

He placed the blocks on the tray, peeled the gloves off and slid the tray into the oven bottom. ‘Now we leave them to cook. By lunchtime it’ll smell like Christmas.’

‘How long before they’re done?’

‘No idea, could be three or four hours. Who do you think I am, Gordon F—ing Ramsey?’ He grinned. ‘It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re cool enough to handle when we leave.’

‘What do we do until then?’

‘Not much of anything. We’ll need to set off about eight o’clock to be in position in good time. We’ll grab a kip later, because we won’t get much tonight. When we wake up, we’ll
take our pills.’

‘Couldn’t we take them before?’

‘Not if you want to get any sleep. You’ve no idea the effect those things have. That’s another reason we won’t sleep tonight. It’s like the biggest adrenaline rush you’ve ever had. Only it doesn’t wear off until you make it go. As soon as we get back here, we’re out on the moor for training. With the effect of that stuff inside you, this morning’s run will seem like a stroll. You’ll fly across the ground like a sprinter.’

‘Do we take them nonstop until this is over?’

‘Not unless you want to give yourself a heart attack. No more than one every seventy-two hours. That’s the instruction. I saw a bloke take two by accident once. Within hours he was damn near walking on the ceiling. The red caps had to lock him in a padded room for three days. When he came out he’d scratched most of the skin from his arms and legs, more off his face. He was in sick bay for weeks.’

‘All this is very encouraging.’

He grinned. ‘Just follow the instructions and you’ll be fine.’

By the time they set off for their destination Jessica was aware of the change the medication was bringing. Everything seemed in clearer focus, her eagerness to get on with the operation was stronger; she knew she could do her part. She was confident in her leader too. The miles seemed to crawl by, although she knew Steve was driving as fast as he could, in safety. ‘How are you feeling?’

She smiled at him. ‘Fine, ready for action. How about you?’

‘Top form. Now, remember, the stuff we’re going to be handling is quite safe. You can’t do any harm, even if you drop it, or hit it with a hammer.’

It was unusual for Smith to be nervous. In fact it was almost unheard of. But meeting his boss could be relied upon to make him edgy.

‘Give me an update.’

Smith could tell by the tone of his boss’s opening question that he wasn’t the only one feeling the strain of the situation.

‘We’ve tried everything we know to locate the girl, but with no success. We’ve had Dr North’s new location under surveillance, all his phone calls, text messages and e-mails are monitored, but whoever abducted Jessica North hasn’t attempted to contact her father either directly, or via Helm Pharm. To make matters more complicated, that detective, Nash, has been asking some very pertinent questions about the girl and North’s family as a whole. One or two of which it was extremely difficult to answer.’

‘He has that reputation. All you can do is continue to fend him off. On no account can you allow him access to North. That could be disastrous. But we must find the girl. North is so worried about her safety, and upset at what happened to his wife and son, he’s unable to work, which is no good for any of us.’

‘Do we need him? I mean, I understand he’s supposed to be brilliant, but surely there must be other chemists who could do the work he does equally well, especially as we’re so far down the road.’

‘You must be joking. North is irreplaceable; for the time being at least. There’s an old saying that no one is indispensable, but North’s pretty close to it. He’s the only scientist capable of understanding these drugs, and more important, predicting their effect. The trial samples we’ve been using before, the ones that originated from his laboratory have worked really well. We’re aware that they needed fine tuning, and North had just prepared a batch he was convinced would be the finished article. But they were destroyed by that intruder at Helm Pharm. We’ve tried to get other chemists to conduct similar experiments. We were aware that if anything happened to North it would have meant writing off millions. In addition to which there were the difficulties surrounding North’s private life which I’m sure you’re aware of.’

‘What happened? To the other experiments I mean?’

‘They were a total disaster. Only one batch got as far as a field trial. The volunteer who’d taken the drugs ran amok and damned near killed three of his colleagues before he could be restrained. After they secured him, the red caps had to keep him locked in a soft room for three days. When they took him
out his skin was a mess of scratches which turned into a major infection. He was in a military hospital for almost three months. It was due to an allergic reaction to the cocktail of drugs. We certainly can’t afford anything like that to happen again.’

‘OK, so we can’t dispense with North, or his services. In that case, what do you want me to do next?’

‘We have to find the girl. Equally important, we have to find the man who abducted her. Above all we must recover the stolen files. Especially the encrypted ones.’

‘You’re not worried that he might have succeeded in breaking the encryption, surely.’

‘I bloody hope not! And so should you. Actually, I don’t think there’s a cat in hell’s chance. Not unless he either had inside knowledge of the file contents, or a key to the cipher. Or he’d been trained in the sophisticated decoding techniques necessary to crack such a complicated code. Despite that, I shan’t be happy until those files are back in our possession, and the longer they stay missing, the more nervous I’ll be. And that should apply to you, even more than me. There are things within those encrypted files that neither of us would want to become known.’