Morvicti Blood (A Morvicti Novel Book 1) (18 page)

“There were details that were released in the media that convinced me my letter was authentic.”

“So it is very likely that if those details had not been released you would have kept the letter to yourself, or perhaps even destroyed the most important evidence to date that Scotland Yard has.” Ms. White’s accusatory tone sharpened. “Why do you believe this killer sent you a letter about his murders?”

“I cannot be sure.”

“You have no idea what this portion of the note means? ‘I admire your work, Wilson.’ ”

“No,” he lied. “I’m just a geneticist. What would he want with me?”

“What indeed.” She reached behind her and brought out a copy of his book. “This is ‘Our Human Cousins,’ a book authored by you and published in 2002. Most of your peers reject your theories about a subspecies of humanity living in secret among us, do they not?”

“It is a hypothesis, Ms. White. Not a theory,” he said, feeling angry for thinking this interview would help clear up the misunderstanding about the letter. “I follow the scientific method of observation, measurement and experiment, as well as the formulation, testing and modification of hypotheses. A theory arises from repeated observation and testing and incorporates facts, laws, predictions and tested hypotheses that are widely accepted. A hypothesis is a specific, testable—”

“Dr. Wilson, I know the difference between a theory and a hypothesis,” she snapped back. “But isn’t it possible that the copycat Ripper, who is a deranged psychopath, has latched onto your hypothesis about a secret super-race to justify his killing spree?”

“There is absolutely no connection between any of my work and the tragic deaths of Nancy Black and Gail Simmons. No connection at all.”

“Even though that is what the killer said in the letter. I quote yet again, ‘I admire your work, Wilson.’ Here is a peer of yours, Doctor. This is Dr. Wendell Cook, a former Chair of Genetics in the Department of Biochemistry at Keble College of the University of Oxford. Listen to what he told us.”

Wilson hadn’t seen Wendell in some time. He barely recognized the man’s image on the screen: bald, wrinkled, and three stones heavier than when they’d parted ways.

“Thomas returned from Guatemala a changed man,” Wendell said. “I cannot imagine what he went through witnessing the murders of his team members. It was then he became obsessed with his secret subspecies and with his idea about hyper-hibernation. No matter what any of his friends said to him, he would not give it up. Thomas could have been one of the top minds in our field if he had never gone on that disastrous expedition in ’73.”

Ms. White glared. “Dr. Cook called you obsessed, do you care to comment?”

“No.”

“He said you returned from Guatemala a changed man.” Ms. White looked down at the pages in her hand. “You came back from that expedition claiming soldiers had entered the team’s camp and gunned everyone down, leaving only you alive and well. You also state that you got away because these soldiers did not see you. You assert that they destroyed your research and every scrap of evidence that would corroborate your story. Please tell us how you escaped such a volatile country, Doctor?”

“I nearly didn’t, Ms. White.” He didn’t dare tell her about the four days it had taken him to get to the Mexican border. Sheer will and dumb luck had saved his life.

“You were under investigation for several years concerning that expedition, were you not?”

“I was never considered a suspect.”

“Perhaps you should have been, sir. Seven people died in Guatemala, and you are the sole survivor, the sole witness. Two women died in London, and you alone received a letter from the alleged killer. Can you explain how those two things are not related?”

“Call Commissioner Poole, Ms. White. I have cooperated fully with his investigation.”

“And you are not a suspect, once again. Are you aware of the latest Ripper murder of a young woman whose body was just discovered at ten this morning?”

“I am not.”

“Ms. Molly Baker, a university student about to graduate and marry her longtime sweetheart. She is the third victim of the copycat Ripper, Dr. Wilson.”

“I was not aware of Ms. Baker. My thoughts and prayers will be with her family.” He took off the microphone and stood. “I thought you were interested in the truth, Ms. White, but I see you are only interested in sensationalism. We are done.”

CHAPTER 32

1:45 PM

Austin stepped into the room with Remington. They approached Angelique together.

“You were right, Angelique,” his friend said. “He is your brother.”

She ran to Austin, giving him a hug. “I told this thick-headed husband of mine it was you but he didn’t listen. Are you okay?”

He smiled. “Now that I know you’re safe, I’m fine.”

Michael asked, “When was the last time you ate, McCord?”

“Over ten years ago, though it feels like yesterday to me. I remember what it was. A tasty MRE.”

“Since we didn’t have any other food at the time, we thought they were delicious.”

He grinned. “Delicious? That might be pushing it, Professor.”

Michael smiled. “I’ll order us some food. You two have a seat. I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll be right back.”

When Remington left, he and Angelique sat down on the sofa.

Now that no one was chasing them and they were alone, he didn’t know where to begin.
How do I tell her how sorry I am?

They looked at each other for several awkward moments.

She leaned forward, breaking the silence first. “I told Michael about the commissioner and what happened at the Hippodrome.”

“So did I. Seems that you and I are still in synch even after so many years apart.”

Another long, painful pause.

“He’s getting some of his men to look into it,” she said.

“Your husband will get to the bottom of this, I’m sure. He’s very capable.”

“I know he is, but I’m confused about this place and these armed men. Look around, Austin. This certainly goes far beyond U.S. Embassy business.”

Angelique was always so intelligent. How had Remington been able to keep her in the dark for so long? Obviously, she was so much in love with her husband she never questioned him—until now.

Austin knew the dangers of covert operations. The less Angelique knew the easier it would be to keep her protected, but that was not possible after what she’d seen. It was Remington’s place to tell her the truth, not his. “I’m sure this is just part of his job, and he’ll explain it to you when he can.”

“You and I both know he’s got some kind of secret he’s holding back. What happens now?”

“You haven’t changed, Sis, always needing to figure things out for yourself. I’m sure Michael will help you through whatever happens next. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“And I’m so glad you’re alive.” She closed her eyes, and a single tear streamed down her cheek.

She’d suffered so much, and he was responsible for the biggest part of her pain. He’d been running from this moment for so long, avoiding the past by staying away from Angelique.
I was such a selfish bastard.
But they shared the same pain. No more running. She was his sister. She needed him.

“We left on such bad terms at mom and dad’s funeral.” He’d been such a fool then. “That was my fault. I should have stayed.”

She grabbed his hands. “You did the right thing. We both had to get on with life. It was hard, but it helped me become the woman I am today.”

“And from what I’ve seen, quite the capable woman, too.”

“I do my best.” She smiled. “You and Michael are the only family I have. But promise me you won’t leave me again.”

“I’ll do my best to stay around, Sis,” he said, wondering if he should.
Have I endangered her just by coming back?
“But I just awoke, and the whole world is turned upside down and sideways.”

“I can help you figure it out. I want to be there for you.”

“I know you do.”
She’s a better person than me, because I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most.
“I really am sorry, Sis, that I failed you.”

“We were only eighteen, Austin. Just kids. No one knows how to act when their parents die, especially when they’re only eighteen.” She kissed him on the cheek. “All is forgiven. The past is the past. Okay?”

“You’ve got a deal.” He hugged her. The awkwardness was gone. The closeness he and Angelique shared before their parents’ death was back. No more running. “I love you, Sis.”

“And I love you.” She stood and walked over to a small refrigerator in the corner of the room. “I’m thirsty, how about you?” She peered inside. “There’s bottled water, 7-Up, orange juice, Coke, and Diet Coke.”

“I’ll take a Coke. Thanks.”

“That’s still my favorite, too.” She brought back two cans and handed him one. “What about the Navy, Austin? Do you need to inform them that you’re alive?”

He took a long drink of his soda. The sweet liquid tasted great and felt good in his dry mouth and throat. “I’m not in the Navy anymore—and probably can’t ever return.”

She sat down on the sofa again. “Why would you say that?”

“How can I explain to them that I was dead but now I’m alive?
I
don’t even know how it happened. I’m sure the brass would see me as a deserter. Until I know who was responsible, and how my death was faked, I must remain a civilian.”

“That’s perfect. You can come live with Michael and me.”

He grabbed her hands. “You’re happily married, Sis. You and Michael have a life together. A future. I’m a dead man who just rose from the grave. You don’t need that kind of baggage around.”

“But you are alive, and you are my brother. That won’t ever change.” She kissed him on the cheek and then leaned back. “Michael never told me that story about the thong in the library before.”

“He was much younger. I bet he accidentally forgot it.”

She shook her head. “Accidentally on purpose, I bet.”

They laughed together. It felt so good after the many years of separation.

Michael returned. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” they said in unison, winking at each other like when they were children.

“I doubt that.” Michael took the chair opposite the sofa he and Angelique sat on. “I ordered Chinese. It’ll be here shortly.”

“Seems to me that you’re in charge of everything here, Michael Remington.” Angelique’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t difficult to see how hurt she was that he’d kept her in the dark so long. “Is there something you want to tell me? To confess?”

Michael lowered his head and sighed. “I hoped this day would never come. It’s really better for you to know as little as possible.”

She stood. “Just tell me. I already know you’re a spy.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then said, “Yes. I’m with the CIA.”

“Now the late night calls and meetings are starting to make sense.” In typical Angelique-fashion, she folded her arms over her chest. “Just when were you planning on telling me?”

Michael left his chair and reached for her, but she stepped back from him. He sighed. “I never planned on telling you, but today’s events have changed that. I kept it secret only to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” She unfolded her arms, a sign to Austin that her hurt and anger was softening. “I’m your wife.”

“Honey, my job gives me access to information that many would kill for. As far as the rest of the world knows, I’m a staffer at the U.S. Embassy.” Michael’s words were heavy with emotion. He stepped forward and pulled Angelique into his arms. This time, she didn’t step back.

Seeing this exchange between Michael and Angelique showed him how much they meant to each other.

“It was critical for me to keep my cover even from you.” Michael kissed her forehead. “I couldn’t risk anyone using you to get to me.”

She got up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to Michael’s. “Don’t you ever keep a secret from me again.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Then…I forgive you.”

He laughed. “That’s all I needed to hear. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.” She smiled. “Austin, I’m so sorry you had to listen to our discussion.”

He stood and grinned. “I’m just glad you two were able to work this out.”

Angelique nodded and then her eyes widened. She turned back to Michael, who was still holding her in his arms. “Honey, do you think what happened to Austin has something to do with your real job?”

“I just don’t know.” Michael guided Angelique back to the sofa and sat down beside her. “I wasn’t in the agency when Austin was shot in Iraq.”

“No you weren’t, buddy.” He sat down in the chair and took another sip of his Coke. “You were by my side.”

“What do we do now that your cover is blown, sweetheart?” Angelique asked.

“I’m in contact with my superior at Langley. He’s getting safe transport set up to get us back to the States.”