Trials in Walls of Ivy (Triskelion Trilogy Book 1) (22 page)

My grin fell. “How did you know I don’t have many friends?” He was right. Back home, the friends I did have, I never spent time with. My life there was spent at work.

“
Didn’t
have friends,” He corrected. “Easy, you don’t know how to accept help. You’re uncomfortable with the idea of people doing nice things for you. Basically, you’re independent to a fault.”

“To a fault?”

“You put more pride into your accomplishments than you do possessions.” He leaned toward me and winked. “That’s one of the best things about you in my opinion.”

“How the heck did you come up with that?” I laughed.

“Your room,” he said, plainly. “It’s so spartan; it might as well be a prison cell.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. You have an unhealthy addiction to coffee. Though, I blame Owen for that.”

I held my hand over my mouth to muffle the laugh. Strange as it was, he had me spot on.

“You’re right. You do know me. Guess I need to be more observant with you.”

“You can ask me anything,” He encouraged.

I took another bite from my burger, considering his proposition. I did want to know more about him, but as the burning pit of jealousy still churned, I didn’t want to sound like any of the other girls he had asked out. I wiped my hands clean as a question came to me.

“What’s your favourite season?”

He laughed. “Season? Okay, I guess, Winter. It’s darker for longer, clear crisp skies to see the stars.”

“Football or rugby?”

“Rugby.”

“Rock or pop?”

“Rock, of course.” He grinned, as I fired questions at him.

“Name one possession you couldn’t live without.”

“Ooh, you’re good at this,” he laughed.

“You said anything.”

He reached forward and took my hand, staring at the sculpture beside us as he thought.

“I’m presuming you mean after clothing and shoes to wear?”

I nodded.

“Then, I think I will have to say, nothing. I can honestly say, there’s nothing I own that I couldn’t live without. What about you?”

My lip pouted. I was doing so well on the questions.

“Oh, now I’m just going to sound materialistic.”

“Ha, no you won’t. What’s your best possession?”

I rubbed his thumb with mine, self-consciously. “My hag stone.”

He looked at me confused.

“It’s a stone with a hole going all the way through. The hole has to be natural, worn there by sea water.”

“Why do you like it so much? Isn’t the beach full of them?”

“No, they’re really rare. Me and my sister always looked for them when we were kids. Never found one. Then, one evening, I was really upset after finding out my Nana was ill. I went to sit on the beach. I had my feet in the surf, just as the tide was washing in. I was thinking about her and how I just wished she would get better. Next thing, I look down and my hag stone rolls in with the tide. It came to settle literally between my feet.”

“Sorry about your Nana.”

“Don’t be. She’s fine. It was hit and miss, but she pulled through. That’s why I love that hag stone, I think. They’re supposed to bring you good luck.”

He laughed.

“I know, I don’t really believe in that stuff either, but, I picked it up hoping my Nana would get better. Next day, we got a call saying she was on the mend. I’ve kept it with me ever since.”

“You’ll have to show it to me.”

“I will,” I smiled.

The restaurant around us was busy in conversation. I looked around to see couples and friends, all sat in candlelit pairs. I turned to the sculpture beside us as I chewed. The wooden horse was nailed to the wall, its wheeled feet hanging beneath it. I peered through the cracks and saw the hollow insides. Tiny wooden carved figures stood inside. Each one was holding a miniature sword.

“Different choice of decoration, isn’t it?” Ash said, watching me inspect the sculpture.

“It’s a fascinating story. To go to all the trouble of creating such a massive horse, just to trick the enemy. They must have been determined.”

“Good strategy. Get your opponent to relax. Let them think they have the upper hand, while you secretly position yourself exactly where you need to be.”

“All that training does come in handy,” I smiled. “But, to be fooled by a giant horse?”

“You’ve got to think about it from the perspective of the time. It was a bold move, but more importantly, an unexpected one. How were the Trojans to know that the Greeks had hidden inside ready to kill them all? They thought it was an offering to their goddess.”

I sat back and gaped. “How do you know so much about everything? First astronomy, and now Greek mythology?”

“Like I said, I wanted to be someone other than my Dad. So, I studied.” He pointed back toward the sculpture. “It’s all the same really, historical warfare and today. It’s all about deception and manipulation. One side makes a move to see what the other side does. Neither show their full hand. It builds and builds in strength until one side finally snaps and attacks with a fully formed plan.”

My body froze as I considered his theory. “It’s always the same? In every situation?”

“More or less. If there’s two opposing sides who want to take over the other, history shows that they pretty much play out in the same way.”

“Like, the bomber?” I sat back, holding the burger halfway to my mouth. “The bomber, do you think he’s a Trojan horse?”

“How so? He’s not leaving the bombs in pretty packages.”

“But, he
is
leaving them in pretty locations. The seaside, the theatre, they’re touristy places. Do you think there could be a connection in that?

“Maybe, but the last one, that village?” He frowned, thinking of the hundreds killed in the last blast.

“I don’t know. I didn’t look at the village. Ash, we need to get back to the house. We need to see if this is a connection.” I stood before I had finished talking.

“Roz, we’ll get through it. Don’t you want to finish here first?”

I looked around at the faces watching me. “I do. But, I’m sorry, Ash. I can’t just leave this ‘till morning. We have to look into this. This could be our break.”

He stood and pulled his wallet from his pocket. “Okay, but we stop for pudding on the way to the car. We can eat while we research.”

“Deal.”

“And you owe me another date, for cutting this one short,” he smirked.

I leaned over and hugged him. “Deal.”

I pulled my purse rom my bag as a woman in a severely tight suit drew close.

“No. I’ve got this.” He threw the money to the table and grabbed my hand to pull me away before I could contribute.

“Hey, I can pay my way you know.”

He laced his fingers through mine. “I know you can. But, I wanted to pay.”

The house was empty when we got back. The piles of papers still sat untouched on the table top. I called up the stairs to Owen and Warwick and got no reply. Ash flicked the kettle on as he fished in the cupboard for two plates. We had managed to find a late opening farm shop which sold homemade cream cakes. Perfect.

“You’re right,” Ash said, with his mouth full of cake. We were sat in the living room, feet up on the table. “Every location was a tourist spot.”

“Even the village?” I asked.

“Looks like it. It had a gift shop, so I presume tourists went there.”

“Why would the bomber target tourist attractions?” I asked, knowing the answer.

There was only one thing these places had in common: lots of people, people with their guard down, relaxing on holidays, weekend breaks or nights out with their friends. These places were supposed to be fun.

“He just wanted a high body count?”

“Maybe,” Ash said, absently scrolling through a computer screen. “But, the body count doesn’t fit.”

“What do you mean?”

“The bombs, they were never big enough to cause too much damage.”

“The one that went off at the theatre cause plenty of damage.” I shuddered at the memory of the roof collapsing in on us, the screams as people were crushed.

Ash shook his head. “That was an old building which needed repair. It wouldn’t have been half that bad in a new build. You got out. If the bomber really wanted to kill everyone and get the numbers, he would have set the bomb by the supporting wall.”

“What did he want then?”

“I may be wrong, but I think it was two things.”

“Two? What are they?”

“Attention, and to infect people.”

I nodded for him to continue.

“The people who died at each bombing, the majority were from infection.” He handed me a sheet of paper. “Look at the locations, can you see the connection?”

I read though the sheet. It listed the bombing locations in date order. As far as I could tell, apart from moving north, they were random.

“They’re moving north through the country.”

“Yes, but there’s something else.” He put his finger on the list. “This one was on the sea front, next to a block of council flats. This one was behind a community centre.” He prodded the list, nodding at me to understand.

I followed his finger down the list. “A voluntary run theatre, in the old town.” I said, my voice drifting off. “He’s targeting the lower income areas?”

I searched the list. He was right. Every bombing was located at the poorer locations of a town. All accept one. My finger hovered over the location.

“I know. That’s the one that doesn’t fit,” Ash said, without me asking the question.

“The bomb here at uni didn’t have the biological weapon. It didn’t go off in a populated area. Do you think it was a different bomber?”

Ash rummaged through a pile to the left of him. He pulled out a sheet from the bottom. “No, look. The report Owen took from Llamp’s computer says it was made from the same components as the other bombs, so it’s definitely the same bomber.” He paused.

“Hang on.” He leaned closer to me, reading through the sheet. “I think I’ve found something.”

I curled up my knees and leaned into him, reading over his shoulder. “What?”

“Yes, it’s a connection. It’s at the theatre, the village, and the others. Yes.”

“What is? What is it?”

He turned the paper so I could see it, holding his finger over the correct line. “It says something called L08 was found in each of the victims. Looks like it’s a chemical or something.”

“L08? I’ve never heard of it. What is it?”

“No idea, but it’s the connection we’ve been looking for.”

I gripped his arm, unable to sit still. “Ash, you’re brilliant.”

I leaned in without thinking and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around my lower back and pulled me closer.

“Ah, Ash, we need to finish this,” I giggled.

“Sorry, got carried away,” he grinned, before kissing me one last time. “Okay, what were we saying? The bombs?”

“We were saying that the bombs must have a link.”

No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t work without a grin on my face.

Shaking myself into focus, I stood and took my usual pacing route. I could hear cheers of laughter from students still on their night out. How strange it was to go from a nice evening out with Ash, to pondering bombing motives.

“If it’s the same bomber, hitting the uni must make sense in his plan. It showed that he could get in here, I suppose. Could it be for attention, like you said? What did he want to say to the police?”

“Maybe he wasn’t saying anything to them.”

“What do you mean?”

Ash stood and blocked my path. “The police weren’t involved with the bomb here. There was no biological weapon in the bomb. Maybe he was trying to say something to us.”

“To us?”

“The university. Why else would he break his pattern?”

“Pattern. That’s what Wang was talking about when I met him. The bomber is only targeting specific people within a group. If his sole intention is killing, then why did he not target anyone here? There must be something in the pattern.” I rubbed my face in frustration and sat back on the settee.

“But, it still doesn’t fit.”

“Hang on, how do we know that killing is his sole intention?” Ash sat beside me and put his arm around my shoulders.

“Well, what else could it be? The body count at each bombing has gone up each time. Except when he bombed here. The amount of toxin has gone up too.”

I felt Ash’s body freeze beside me. He slowly slid his arm from my shoulders and pushed himself forward so he was sitting on the edge. “It can’t be.”

I leaned forward and pulled on his shoulder, forcing him to face me. “What is it?”

“The gradual increase in bomb size, the growing dispersal of the toxin, it all fits.” I shook my head. He continued. “The bomber does have a sole intention; we just haven’t seen it yet.”

“What do you mean? We’re seeing it at every bomb.”

Ash dropped his head into his hands. “The bombs, they’re not the end, they’re the preparation. Look at the locations. The Bournemouth one was next to a block of council flats. And look,” he grabbed one of the reports and held it up, “the Llandudno bomb was next to the job centre. The theatre was an independent charity, run by volunteers. The village was tiny and unnoticed. You see it?”

I scanned the paper, looking for the connection. “No, what is it?”

“The size of each bomb has grown each time. Low income, high casualty. He sees them as disposable. Roz, the bombs are strategic. It’s a testing period.”

He jumped from the settee and took my place pacing the room. His strides were too long for the limited room. My eyes followed his feet, mesmerised, terrified of what he had just said.

“A testing period?” I whispered.  “Like in an experiment?”

“Exactly. You have a toxin which can wipe out whoever you want. The first thing you need to do is run experiments, make sure you can control it.” He picked up the phone, banging his finger into the buttons.

“But, if they’re experiments, where’s the main target going to be?” I asked, bringing my knees up to my chest to hug.

“I don’t know, but we need to find out.”

He growled at the phone and dialled in another number.

“Hello, Jay? You need to grab the others and get over here right now. We need to work.” He slammed the phone down and turned to me. “Roz, we need to confront Mark.”

I stood and folded my arms. “It’s not him. He’s my friend, Ash. I know it’s not him.”

“I know.” He stepped forward and cupped my face with his warm hands. “But, if we’re to find the bomber, he’s going to be our best bet. He has more of a chance of understanding the toxin than Fern. We need help, and we need it from a friend.” He grimaced at his last words.

I hung my head. I was glad he now agreed with clearing Mark’s name. But, to question Mark I would have to reveal my suspicions. Without word, I picked up the phone and dialled Mark’s number.

*   *   *

It didn’t take fifteen minutes for Mark to arrive at my door. Ash had just brought Jay and Owen up to speed as he knocked. They all stood back, looking at me to open it. I took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Mark stood waiting, Mendel sat by his side.

“Ye call, I come runnin’,” He said, grinning at me.

My heart sank as I stepped aside. He followed me through to the living room and stopped dead when he saw my three friends waiting.

“Okay, what am I missin’?” Mark asked. He stood in the doorway, forcing me to squeeze through.

“We just need to talk to you. It’s nothing to worry about,” I said.

“Nothin’ to worry about, eh? Why’s three muscles here then?”

Owen laughed. “Me muscle? I kind of like that idea.” He sat on a chair with his laptop on his knee.

I pulled on Mark’s arm, urging him to sit with me. “Honestly, it’s fine. This is my team. Well, some of it. We’re missing Bree, Warwick and Fern.”

“Fern’s in your team? Well, you’ll not have any luck getting’ hold of her,” Mark said, as he took the seat beside me. Mendel sprawled on the floor over our feet.

Ash stood in the centre of the room, arms folded. “Why do you say that?”

“’cause, she’s gone with Levins to investigate the village massacre.” We all froze and stared at him. Mark’s eyes flicked to each one of us in turn. “What’s goin’ on?”

I put my hand on his, ignoring the grumble which came from Ash’s direction. “Mark, you know how we’ve been researching the bombings? It’s our task to get through this year.”

“Yeah, of course I know that.”

Jay stood beside Ash, mirroring his stern stance. “How much do you know about them?” Ash asked.

“About the bombs?” Mark asked.

Jay and Ash nodded simultaneously.

“Not much. Just what I’ve seen through Levins’ research.”

The room went still. Owen looked to me and I shrugged. Ash looked like he was about to lynch Mark.

“What?” Mark shouted.

“Mark,” I said, “I’ve spoken to Levins. He explained to me that the toxin used within the bombs effects the genes. It causes a kind of cellular breakdown.”

“An extreme form of necrosis,” Owen said, reading from a sheet.

Mark stared at us like he was waiting for us to continue. “Yeah, so?”

“So?” Jay interjected. “Only your research can correct it. So, we’re thinking maybe it was your research which caused it.” He stepped forward, as if wanting him to try to run.

“What? Are ye kiddin’ me? How the hell could ma research have caused the bombs? I’m workin’ to help people, not do them in.”

I held up my hand, stopping Jay from shouting again. “Mark, we’re not accusing.”

“Then what’re you doin’?”

“We’re asking for your help. For you to help us stop this and clear your name,” I said, gently stepping closer. “Look, Levins said that only your research would have a chance at finding something to stop the toxin in the bombs. And, that only someone with an understanding of that research would know how to create it.” My hands were shaking, I knew how this sounded as I spoke.

“My research? My research has nothin’ to do with the bombs. The bombs target specific chromosome sequences. My work is with genes,” Mark said, staring back at me like I’d betrayed him.

Jay huffed. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“On the level you’re talkin’ about, the finesse in manipulatin’ them? No, they’re very different.” Mark turned to me and whispered. “Roz, did you say that Levins told you this about my work?”

“Yes. But, Mark, you just said the bombs are working to target chromosomes? How do you know that?”

“Levins has had us workin’ on a vaccine for weeks. We’ve been usin’ his research to try to create a barrier to the toxin used in the bombs.”

“Here.” Ash held out a file. Mark took it. “These are the latest reports from the village. We found a connection with the toxin.”

“A connection? Brilliant. What is it?” Mark asked.

“Something called L08. We don’t know what it is, but figured you…” Ash broke off as Mark ripped the paper from the file. He tore through the pages frantically.

“Mark?” I asked.

“Where did they get it?” He looked at me, his face drained of colour, eyes wide. “Where did they get it?”

“Get what?”

Mark slumped into a chair, seemingly forgetting everyone else in the room. “It’s mine. L08, it’s my creation.”

“You killed those people?” Jay bellowed.

“What? No! I said it was my work, not that I used it. Someone’s taken it.”

“But who could’ve taken it, and known how to use it?” Ash asked.

“If they did.” Jay muttered, under his breath.

Mark leapt to his feet, causing Mendel to jump with him. “You know what, think what you like. If you want to think I’m some psychotic terrorist, you go ahead.” He shoved passed me and wrenched open the door. I chased after him, my words frozen in my mouth. He paused at the door and turned on me.