Morvicti Blood (A Morvicti Novel Book 1) (13 page)

“It’s obvious to me that you already have an idea what’s inside the smaller package.” Gita’s voice sounded meek, something he had never heard before. “Would you care to share your thoughts, Thomas?”

It was rare for her to use his first name, another sign at how nervous she was.

“I believe this may contain blood samples of The Ripper’s victims, Gita.” He sighed and opened the second carton. His stomach lurched at what he found.

Not blood samples.

Gita shrieked, seeing the two severed fingers packed in dry ice.

“Calm yourself.” The words were for him as well as her.

Peering into the package, he could see the digits were not from a male—too slight. One of the fingernails was painted a bright red; the other was clear. “I’m fairly certain these came from Nancy Black and Gail Simmons.”

In a shaky voice, she asked, “Would you like me to cancel your interview with Ms. White and your appointment with Dr. Vickers?”

“No. I have plenty of time to make that interview and the appointment.”

“Surely, you won’t be telling Ms. White at the BBC about these?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Shall I ring Commissioner Poole?”

The commissioner had been very accommodating to him since he had turned over the killer’s letter to the police. Poole was personally handling the copycat Ripper case and had given him his direct line should the killer contact him again.

His mind was spinning. “Not just yet, Gita.”

“Sir?”

“I’m going to test these first.” Too bad he had sent the young technician home. He could have used Reeves’s help. But how would he have explained the bloody digits to him? “You’re going to assist me.”

“Just like the old days when it was just you and me in this lab.”

He nodded, recalling how quickly she’d learned the technicalities of running genetic tests.

She smiled. “You won’t have time to wait for the results, Dr. Wilson, because of your appointments.”

“Right you are. You’ll have to finish the test for me.”

She nodded. “You will need to change after we set up these tests. I selected a green tie for the camera. It will bring out your eyes.”

“Gita, imagine if we can match the DNA of these fingers to Dr. Vickers’ mummies.”

“If she allows you to get a sample.”

“As you know, I can be quite charming when necessary.”

“Yes, you can.” She looked back at the box. “Do you really think these will have the DNA you’ve been searching for?”

Under other circumstances, he would have been thrilled at the possibility. Now, not only was he excited, but he was also terrified. “Let’s find out.”

CHAPTER 21

11:00 AM

As the taxi driver turned left off of Regent onto Conduit, Angelique’s heart fluttered fast in her chest. Trying to get her bearings, she glanced out the side window as they passed the East India Company, while Austin continued to peer out the back.

She kept her tone low so as not to alarm the driver. “Any sign of the commissioner, Austin?”

“No. I think we lost him.”

She pointed to one of the several thousands of cameras around the city. “It’s virtually impossible to remain invisible in London these days.”

“I’ve seen them. Let’s pull our coats up high when we exit.” He leaned forward. “Driver, let us out here.”

“At the West End Central Police Headquarters, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Austin, the meeting place is just a block behind the station,” Angelique whispered.

She had never dreamed she would be on the run from the authorities, but there were many things happening right now she’d never imagined. Her dead brother had shown up at her door. The Commissioner of the London City Police had chased them out of her flat. The commissioner had lied to the casino worker. Whatever the man wanted with her and Austin didn’t appear to be related to his official duty, though she could not be certain about anything at this point. All she wanted was to get to Michael. He would know what to do. He always did. He was her rock and she needed him right now.

“Driver, stop right before the headquarters, please, where that city street sweeper is standing.” Austin put his arm around her.

She typed a quick text to Michael, letting him know they were getting close.

“Sis, how much money do you have?”

She opened her purse and counted. “Seventy-five pounds and some change.”

The taxi stopped on the corner opposite the station.

She felt her stomach flip-flop. “What are we going to do to avoid detection?”

“There’s a blind spot here.” Austin motioned to the cameras in the area. Oddly, none of them were pointed in their direction.

“That will be twelve pounds.”

She handed the driver fifteen. “Keep the change.”

Austin grabbed the shopping bag and got out of the taxi, offering her his hand. She pulled her coat up high as she exited.

“What now?” So many other questions whirled in her head.

“Give me your money,” Austin said.

Without pausing, she gave him every pound she had. He was her brother. She trusted him no matter what.

He walked over to the street sweeper and began talking with him.

The guilt she’d carried thinking Austin was dead had colored her life. She’d been so angry with him when he’d left her after their parents’ deaths. Most of her current friends believed her to be an only child, not a twin. She hoped to repair the relationship between her and Austin. Could they rekindle what they once had when they were younger?

The moment she’d opened her door and found him standing there she felt instant relief and joy. Now, all that mattered to her was that he was alive. Her brother was with her. Finally. She had Austin back. But she still had a million questions. Where had he been all these years? Had he faked his death or had someone else? Why was the commissioner chasing him?

Her phone beeped. A text from Michael.

I’m here. Where are you?

She typed back.
A minute away. What is this meeting place?

A safe house.

She was a little surprised to learn the U.S. Embassy needed such a place in London.

Austin walked over, wearing the street sweeper’s yellow vest and hat. “Expensive, but worth it. Sis, I want you to walk in front of me a few steps so it doesn’t look like we’re together when we come into the camera’s view. I’ll follow you. Everything is going to be okay.”

She nodded, feeling a little better.

Another text from her husband popped up on her screen.
You okay?

Austin’s hand remained inside his jacket, undoubtedly wrapped around the gun. “Another message from your husband?”

“Yes. Michael is waiting for us at the meeting location.”

“Lead the way.”

Quickly, she sent a three-word text back to her husband.
Yes, I am.

CHAPTER 22

11:15 AM

Austin made sure to keep his face away from the camera’s view. There were three on this block, four on the block up ahead. The vigilance of the world’s governments seemed to be even more heightened than it had been when he’d been shot in Iraq.

That was just yesterday to me.

He was beginning to wrap his head around the fact that he’d lost so much time.

Angelique walked ahead of him.

They passed a couple of parked police cars, but no officers. Coach and Horses was a dead end street adorned with no cameras.

Where is Remington sending us?

A man on the steps to the right of the intersection was reading a newspaper. To the casual onlooker, the guy would seem completely suited to the surroundings—just an average Joe taking a break from his desk job. But Austin knew better, spotting the tiny wire in his ear. The bulge in the man’s coat was likely an automatic weapon of some sort. Not a corporate paper pusher, but an operative from an agency, likely MI6, Interpol, or even CIA.

Out of the corner of his eye, Austin saw another man on the roof.

Remington is definitely much more than Angelique knows.
No way would a typical state department staffer working for the embassy have access to such assets, or be able to coordinate them so quickly.

He and Angelique spotted Remington at the same time. She ran to Michael—
her husband.
There were so many things Austin was going to have to get caught up on.

Remington wrapped his arms around Angelique, kissing her.

She’s safe now that she’s with him. Commissioner Poole, or whoever Dark Suit is, he can’t hurt her now.

He noticed the gray around his friend’s temples, but other than that Remington looked very much the same, though he’d exchanged his military uniform for a dark suit and tie.

“I was so worried.” Remington stepped back, taking full stock of Angelique.

I can leave now, knowing she’s in good hands.

“Honey, you can see I’m fine.” The years had given an impressive strength of will to his sister. “My brother took very good care of me.”

Remington glanced back at him, his eyes full of disbelief. “You look a lot like Austin McCord.” His old buddy pulled out a pistol, aiming it directly at him. “But I know that it can’t be true.”

Angelique’s eyes went wide in shock.

Austin dropped the bag and raised his hands over his head.

“What are you doing, Michael?” she asked. “And where did you get that gun?”

“Let me handle this, sweetheart.”

“You think I would have brought her to you if I wasn’t Austin?”

“This is my brother. I was shocked to see him, too, but I know this is Austin. He’s my twin. I have no doubt about it. Put that damn gun away right now.”

Remington didn’t budge an inch. “What’s in the bag?”

He shrugged, seeing his old friend’s skills from the battlefield had translated quite well into his new job. “Sis, he’s doing exactly what he should be doing. He’s checking out the evidence.”

Remington’s eyes narrowed. “Careful. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“I don’t expect you to believe me. Angelique is your priority. You definitely need to make sure I am who I say I am, Professor.”

“Oh, you’re good, mister.” Remington glared at him. “You’re really good. But many men I served with knew McCord called me ‘Professor.’ ”

“Yes, but I’m sure they didn’t know why.”

“And you do?” Without warning, Remington pulled Angelique protectively behind him, keeping his weapon drawn.

“Nice work. I would do exactly the same thing in this situation if it was turned around and you had suddenly risen from the grave. I know there’s at least two, maybe three, crosshairs on me right now.”

“Four gunmen, actually.”

Angelique’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean ‘four gunmen,’ Michael?”

“Trust your husband, Sis. He’s got everything under control.” He turned to Remington. “I’m proud of you, Professor. I’m the one who came up with that nickname. You remember why?”

“You tell me.”

“I’m not comfortable sharing the entire account in front of your wife, who is also my sister. Suffice it to say the incident involved a cute, little blonde who handed over her thong with her phone number to you in the library. Thus the name ‘Professor.’ ”

Austin caught the flicker of doubt that passed briefly across Remington’s eyes. “If you are McCord, you haven’t aged a day since the last time I saw you. I find that strange, don’t you?”

“Hell, yes. Since I woke up this whole day has been a fucked up nightmare. Yes, I find it strange. I find all of it strange.”

“Will you two stop this now?” Angelique came out from behind her husband, her hands on her hips. “I know he’s my brother.”

“But I don’t, sweetheart.” Remington held his gun steady. “Inside this facility I can prove it one way or another. You first, whoever you are.” He motioned him to a non-descript looking door.

Remington and Angelique followed, her objections continuing.

The door opened.

Two muscled men, who had earpieces like the guy on the street, rushed out towards Austin. They placed his wrists in handcuffs behind his back and patted him down, removing the pistol and wallet. One of the men pulled out the photo of him and Angelique that Austin had stashed in the pants’ pockets. They emptied the shopping bag of the dead man’s clothes. Searching the overcoat, they found an envelope from an inner pocket—something Austin hadn’t discovered when he’d fled Murphy Street. More evidence, hopefully, that would point to the answers he so desperately wanted.

“Get him inside.” Remington didn’t take any notice of the photo or envelope, keeping his arm around Angelique.