Shift (18 page)

“Look, if you’re going to be a dick about it, I’ll do it.” She pulled the notebook away and we played tug of war over it for a bit. I won in the end.

After a few minutes, Aubrey spun around on her chair, bored. “Do you want a drink?” she asked jumping out of the seat, leaving it spinning.

I nodded and continued to type. I was just about to hit save on the report when I got that weird, floating feeling I now knew meant a Shift was happening. I saw the words on the screen flicker and oscillate, like someone was switching between two channels on the TV. I focused in on one word ‘murder’ which kept being replaced by another: ‘suicide.’ The two words, the two realities, hung in place for a moment, fighting for dominance. And then the moment was gone. The Shift had taken place.

I looked at the screen and read the report. The report I knew I had written, just moments before, but it wasn’t the one I remembered.

In the course of my duty, along with Scott Tyler, Shifter First Class, I found Henry Heritage’s body in his kitchen. His wrists were slit and when Doctor Keppel arrived it was declared that he had committed suicide.

The new memory found its place in my mind. Aubrey and I had found Heritage’s body splayed on the kitchen floor, a stained kitchen knife lying next to him. But I knew that wasn’t how it had happened originally. Someone had made a Shift and I knew it wasn’t me. Someone was trying to erase the truth. Erase the old reality. But why a suicide? If they could make a Shift, why let Heritage die at all?

I resisted the new reality and tried to hold on to the thread of the old one. I felt it slipping away from me. Hands shaking, I grabbed Aubrey’s notebook and a pen and turned to a clean page. Before the last grain of the reality fell away I scrawled a note.

‘Heritage was murdered by the fat man.’

I underlined it. And then circled it for good measure.

A feeling of paranoia crept over me. I looked around at my fellow Bluecoats who were all engrossed in whatever they were doing. I tore the page out of the notebook, slipped it into my pocket and looked over at Aubrey.

She was in the kitchen in the middle of a conversation with a red-haired girl. They were standing, heads close, and their voices low. It looked like they were sharing some particularly juicy gossip. But whatever the girl was saying was nothing with what I had to tell her.

Aubrey paused in talking, as if she’d forgotten what she was about to say. It was only a brief hesitation. She looked up and away, then shook her head and went back to listening to the girl. I glared at her, trying to catch her eye, willing her to know what I knew. I risked a peek at the note again. The new reality was fighting hard to take hold, and if I didn’t keep a tight grip on the old one I knew it would slip away.

I hit save on the report and strode over to Aubrey.

She paused mid-sentence as I approached. “This is Scott,” she introduced me to her friend.

I nodded briefly and then grabbed Aubrey by the arm. “Sorry, but there’s something I need to, er…” I didn’t even bother with an excuse as I pulled Aubrey away. “We need to talk,” I whispered.

“Yeah, I guessed that,” Aubrey said. “Sara was just about to tell me all about her date with weird-hair guy, so this had better be good.”

I pulled her back to her desk and pointed at the screen.

“Well done, you’ve finished the report,” she said.

“Read it.”

She sighed and sat down in front of the screen. Her eyes darted across the lines.

“You’ve spelt Kepple wrong.”

“And that’s the only thing that seems off to you?”

“Well,” she hesitated. “I’m not sure. Something seems wrong, doesn’t it? A man as neat and tidy as him, slash his wrists like that. Seems a bit weird.”

I reached into my pocket and handed her my note. She read it. And read it again. She stood up and pulled me into the corridor, leaving the soft clatter of the office behind.

“Scott, what are you on about? It was a suicide.”

“Not five minutes ago it wasn’t.”

“But we found him three hours ago.”

“Didn’t you sense it? Sense the Shift?” She looked blankly at me, so I carried on. “I was typing up the report. Your report. About how we found him lying on the kitchen floor with the top of his head missing. That wasn’t a suicide. Unless it was the most elaborate one ever. But now, there’s this other image where he did kill himself.”

“Someone Shifted?” She sounded uncertain and confused as I was.

“Yes!” I said. “Please remember.”

“I remember us going in and seeing the blood. And he was lying there. And the cats.”

“Yes, the cats! They were licking at his brains.”

“And you were sick.” She pointed at me, her eyes wide. “Oh god, I can sort of remember.”

“Like a dream, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, you don’t dream. But look, someone is trying to cover this up.”

“The murderer maybe?”

“We should tell Morgan. Actually, forget him, I’m telling Abbott. He’s the only one with any sense around here.”

“No,” Aubrey said sharply. “No,” she repeated, softer this time. “We need to think about this more. No one can know that we know.” She had that same scared look in her eyes I remembered from the time ARES came to take me away from her flat.

“You don’t trust Abbot?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him, Scott. It’s just…” She sighed. “It’s just that he was the one who took me away from home. He told me that everything would be OK and I believed him.”

“Oh, but I’m sure he meant–”

“Who is the fat man?” she said, cutting me off and looking down at the note again. It shook in her hands.

I told her about my run in with him outside her flat.

“And you didn’t tell me about some Shifter-hunting crazy on the loose?” Aubrey said, thumping me in the arm.

“Ouch! Yeah… sorry. I sort of forgot about him. All I could think about was making sure my sister was alive.”

Aubrey shook her head at me. “You’re sure it was him?”

“It was the saliva on Heritage’s face. It just made me think that maybe–”

The door opened and we both jumped. A girl walked into the corridor and we looked at her, and she looked at us. We must have looked pretty suspicious as her eyes narrowed.

“Look, I’m very flattered,” Aubrey said. “But you’re not my type.”

The girl smiled and looked at her feet. “Excuse me,” she said as she walked past.

I waited till she’d gone. “What did you said that for?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“You could have said, yes, you’d love to go out with me. That would have worked just as well.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, and snorted.

I threw my hands up in despair. Aubrey ignored me and reread the note. “Heritage must have got himself into some serious trouble to have been killed by a Shifter. First there’s your guy on the Tube and now this.”

“Both were seen with the SLF and both were left with half their heads missing,” I said.

“We need to find out what is going on.”

I wanted to protest. Wanted to point out that if we went sniffing around this mess then maybe we’d wind up as mysterious suicides as well. But I knew that Aubrey would think me a coward. So I kept quiet.

“Can you remember what the fat man looked like?”

“He was pretty unforgettable,” I told her, a vague memory of saying the same thing to Dr Kepple earlier, before the Shift changed our conversation.

“Good,” she said and walked away.

“Where are we going?”

“To do a little digging.”

“So you believe me?” I caught up with her.

“Of course I believe you, Scott. We’re partners. Now stop gaping. We’re got a fat man to find.”

“Bigger,” I said. “Even bigger.”

“You’re kidding?” Carl, the E-fit operator, said.

“Think of the fattest guy you’ve ever seen and double it.”

Carl punched a few keys and the photofit face expanded to fill the screen.

“Now make his eyes really, really small. And make his chin even weaker… Him. That’s him,” I said, pointing at the face.

Carl hit P and the printer nearby started churning out paper.

“Thanks, C,” Aubrey said.

Carl looked up at her, all puppy-eyed and pathetic. Seriously, I thought, get a grip. He had no chance. He was a classic IT geek: in his thirties but still dressing like he was sixteen. He wore a brown Tasmanian Devil T-shirt that was at least one size too small for him and he’d pulled his balding hair back into a lanky ponytail.

Aubrey took the page off the printer and handed it to me. The likeness was impressive. I almost sensed those beady eyes staring at me, and that turned-up nose sniffing me out.

“Shame you can’t capture his smell,” I said. “That’s what I’ll never forget.”

“You want me to run this through the system and see if anything pops?” Carl said.

“No, I want to keep this off the radar, you know?”

“Okey dokey, Aubrey,” Carl said, irritatingly. “But anything else I can do, just let me know.”

“Well, there is just one tiny, tiny thing.” She held her hand up, thumb and forefinger barely an inch apart, to show just how small a thing she was asking.

“But it’s a little…” she said, moving her hand to her chest. “A little upsetting.”

“What is it?” Carl asked, taking her free hand in his. I rolled my eyes.

“It’s this Heritage case.”

“The suicide?”

“Yes. And you know it was me who found him?”

“Oh, Aubrey. That must have been awful.”

“You have no idea,” she said. She covered her mouth as if holding back her sobs. I caught her eye and shook my head. She had this poor guy eating out of her hand.

“I can still sense him, watching over me.”

“Displaced spirits often attach themselves to sensitive souls,” Carl said.

“Yes, I think that’s it. It’s like he wants me to complete something. Oh, this sounds so mad, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all, Aubrey. I’ve read all about this sort of thing.”

“Oh you have? Then you understand. You can understand why I feel the need to finish what he was working on.” Carl nodded dumbly as Aubrey continued her brilliant performance. “The only thing is, I don’t know what that was.”

“Do you want me to get into Heritage’s files and find out?”

“Could you, Carl?” She was laying it on thick and he was lapping it up.

“Of course I could, anything to help you Aubrey,” he said. “Just give me a day. If there’s anything going on around here, I’m the man to find it.”

“Oh, you’re like my knight in shining armour.” She kissed him on his forehead and he blushed all the way to his hairline.

“I’d better go. Can’t keep you from all your important work.”

Aubrey nodded at me and I followed her out. She waved her fingers back at Carl and then pushed through the door.

“What was that?” I asked as soon as the door to Carl’s office shut.

“What was what?” Aubrey asked, all innocent.

“All that ‘Oooo, Carl. You’re my hero,’” I said in a squeaking voice.

“That is called using my feminine wiles. I’ve been told they are very effective.” She flashed her eyes at me.

I coughed. “Well, maybe on some men.”

We walked through the Regulators division. This was totally different to what I now thought of as my division, a floor above. The Regulators were full of intense older teenagers and young men and women who seemed everso-serious about their jobs. Huge TV screens flickered in every corner, broadcasting all the news channels at once. Their floor bustled with energy, like each member had a clear purpose and wasn’t going to let anything stand in their way.

I banged into a tall girl, who scowled at me. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Aubrey. “They’re all pissed off up here. It’s because most of them are in the last stages of entropy. Apparently it’s like PMS, all the time.”

“PM what?”

Aubrey looked at me and shook her head. “I thought they educated you out in the real world.”

“Oh!” I said, realisation dawning fast. “PMS. No, it’s, I thought it was another acronym. Like ARES. Or SLF. Or…” I stopped trying to dig myself out.

We reached the lifts and Aubrey pushed the button.

“Where are we going now?” I complained. I seemed to spend most of my life these days not knowing where I was going.

“I think after your first day of fieldwork you deserve a drink.”

I remembered the first time I’d had a drink with Aubrey. It hadn’t gone that well. The ping of the lift doors hid my groan.

It was 6pm and Copenhagen’s was mostly empty. A couple of red-eyed gamblers were trying their luck on the roulette wheel. Not that they had a chance of winning in this place. They didn’t even register our presence as we headed for the back room.

Shipley was standing behind the bar. He grunted as we approached. “What can I do for ARES today?” he asked Aubrey, ignoring me.

She handed over the printout. “Do you know this guy?”

Shipley squinted as he took the paper from Aubrey’s hand. He examined it, looking down his nose then sniffed and seemed to give up.

“That’ll be a no then?” I said

Aubrey raised her hand, telling me to wait.

Shipley hadn’t finished with the fat guy yet. He pulled out a drawer behind the bar and rooted about. I saw papers, scissors and a black thing that I really hoped wasn’t the butt of a gun. Finally he pulled out a tiny pair of brass-rimmed pince-nez and perched them on his bulbous nose. He glared at me, his eyes made larger behind the small lenses, and dared me to make a comment. I didn’t. Shipley didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who liked being laughed at. He coughed and held the photofit up to the light.

“Oh, yeah. This guy. I’ve seen him about. Had to kick him out once.”

“Why?”

“He kept sniffing people.”

Aubrey and I both shuddered.

“And he broke a chair. Yeah, he was really freaking some of the kids and wasn’t even playing any of the games, so I asked him to leave. But he just grinned. I couldn’t budge him myself not even with five guys helping me. He finally just up and left himself. And I haven’t seen him since.”

“Do you know his name?” Aubrey asked.

Shipley pulled the glasses off his nose and looked up, thinking. Finally he clicked his fingers. “Benjo. I remember because I thought it sounded like a dog.”