by Colin Wade
OK, Rob, I get why you are sceptical but I look forward to meeting you.
Clark was glad he could finally share this nightmare with someone else.
32
Saturday came and Anya’s condition was unchanged. Rob had not heard from Clark so assumed it was OK to go and see him. He grabbed a quick meal in the hospital canteen and set off for Clark’s flat. He lived quite near the centre of town in a swanky riverside complex. He parked up in the multi-storey opposite and made his way up to his flat.
Rob found Flat 13 and buzzed on the door. The door was opened by a lanky, slightly dishevelled character with mad curly hair and glasses. Rob thought he really could be the Clark Kent in the movies.
“Hi, I’m Rob,” as he stretched out his hand in greeting.
“Hi, I am Clark,” he replied as he shook his hand with a confident, firm grip. “Please come in.”
They both sat down in his living room and for a moment there was an uncomfortable silence as neither knew how to start the conversation.
Clark broke the silence. “How is Anya?”
“No change. The doctors don’t seem to know when she will wake up.”
Clark launched in. “Look Rob, I am so glad that you came to see me. My head is exploding with the amount of stuff I have found. When I read about Anya’s accident it all suddenly became too real. I knew I was onto something the minute I found the first email mentioning the girls and finding out that four of them are dead.”
“Whoa, Whoa, slow down. You can’t just launch this at me. I mean, who are you? How do you know about Anya? Why haven’t you been to the police? I don’t know you from Adam. Are you just playing some sick joke on me? On us? Look mate, I need a bloody explanation before I start listening to your fantasies about my Anya.”
Clark had to check himself. He was bursting to tell Rob everything but he realised how weird this must all seem, but then why had he come?
“Look, I am sorry. I know this must seem strange but I needed to see you, Anya, to explain what I have found.”
“I’m sorry, that is not good enough. Why haven’t you gone straight to the police?”
“The way I have found this information is… let’s just say… not by conventional methods.”
“What does that mean? I know about the internet. You can find out anything these days. What did you do, find it on Reddit?”
“Err, no. You don’t find what I found on the conventional web.”
“Oh shit, so you are a hacker. A criminal. Jesus, this was a mistake.”
Rob moved to the front door to leave. He had never broken the law in his life and was not about to start now, however much he wanted to help Anya.
Clark was mortified. He was about to lose the only physical person that could help him with this nightmare. He grabbed Rob by the arm.
“Please Rob, don’t go.”
“Get off me. I do not break the law.”
“Rob. Please. Give me five minutes. I need to show you why I do this.”
Rob stopped and glared at Clark. Trying to read him. He didn’t seem like a scammer. He seemed genuinely concerned, frightened even.
“Five minutes and then I am gone.”
Clark breathed a sigh of relief.
“Please come through to my office. I need to show you something.”
Clark invited Rob through to what could definitely be referred to as a man cave. Rob was overwhelmed by the gadgets on show. Clearly this guy didn’t get out much. It might have been impressive, but Rob also thought it seemed kind of sad. There was no hint of a life here – just screens and terminals and exposed wires, along with takeout boxes. He clearly didn’t entertain much.
“This is why I do it.”
Clark thrust the picture of his father at Rob.
“Who is this?”
“This is my father. When I was ten, he took his own life, because greedy corporate bastards asset stripped his company and ran off with the pension scheme money. He was left with nothing. Then, the politicians who were put in charge of holding these men to account brushed it all under the carpet and let them get away with murder. Literally.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, Oh. At the time I was too young to do anything about it but I made it my life’s ambition to nail these bastards or people like them, including dirty, sleazy politicians.”
Rob was overwhelmed by the sudden passion and mild aggression coming from Clark. He could see tears in his eyes. He was either completely genuine or a great actor.
“It all started with the news story about George Walker fiddling expenses. I started to look at his life and yes, I broke the law by hacking his private email but it didn’t take me long to find exactly the type of conspiracy that I have been searching for all my life. It led me to Anya and now to you. Now I would like to tell you more, but you have given me the five minutes I asked for and if you want to go, then go.”
Rob was stunned. He didn’t know what to do. Another fight or flight moment. For the second time in a week, he chose to fight.
“Look, Clark, I am sorry. You have to understand how bizarre and overwhelming this all is. Someone has tried to kill my darling Anya and we get these weird letters from you seemingly referencing things that no one else should know.”
“I know. I know, but I think we are on the same page here. I also believe that someone is trying to kill Anya because of links to that clinic and that is why I wrote to you. All this evidence. The four other girls, all dead in car accidents. All five girls at Oxford Uni, drug addicts admitted to the same clinic, big money changing hands. I am convinced we are in some heavy shit.”
Rob sat down. Deflated by the stressful exchange of words and the realisation that Clark was genuine. Anya really was in danger.
33
The doctor was pleased. Sam and Bianca were nearly clean and ready for the next stage. He brought them round.
“Sam, Bianca, your recovery is going well. I am going to move you into my private clinic for the second stage of your drug addiction rehabilitation.”
Another lie. They were nearly ready for the stage that paid the big money.
Sam and Bianca stared at him blankly. Woozy, confused, with little energy. He was rambling on about the next phase of their treatment.
They guessed he must know what he was doing, as they didn’t feel desperate for the drugs anymore but were still not functioning. They followed him zombie-like to another part of the clinic. They both had very nice private rooms with a bed, nice comfortable chairs and a flat screen TV. He encouraged them to rest.
He got an email from reception stating that a medical package had arrived by courier.
“Fantastic,” he muttered to himself. “Now we can really get started.”
He collected the package and took it into his private clinic. All was in order and nicely frozen. He transferred the contents to his medical store.
He was the only person who accessed this part of the clinic. He had a complete living area for himself, which meant he didn’t need to leave, if he didn’t have to, and did not need any more staff to help. One less risk, given the nature of what went on in here. The staff were told to contact him on the internal telephone number if they needed him in the main clinic. The staff knew he had a private clinic which no one was allowed into but they had learnt not to ask too many questions.
He went back in to see Sam and Bianca. They were chatting away, watching TV. Within seconds, he had injected them both with more of his special cocktail. Back to a comatose state within minutes.
He went back to his private quarters and logged onto his special site. His friends had promised to set up his next physical encounter with a seven-year-old boy.
Yes, it’s arranged. Brilliant.
34
Clark made Rob some coffee, as they both sought to recover from the rather lively opening exchanges
of their first meeting.
As he had decided to stay, to listen to what Clark had to say, Rob started looking around his man cave. At the end of the room was a large whiteboard covered in photos, arrows and writing, just like one of those murder rooms you see on all these detective shows.
Clark came in with the coffee and saw Rob staring at the board.
“I have tried to summarise the key players and key points I have found so far.”
“This is quite impressive,” said Rob, as he stared at the picture of Anya, smiling and beautiful. “Talk me through it.”
Clark took a deep breath and started offloading all that he had found.
“Right, let’s start with the girls. As you already know from my letters, there were five girls, including Anya, admitted to the Loughborough Clinic as drug addicts, all within a six-month period of each other. Anya was the first but was closely followed by her two friends Rachel and Lisa. I am sure they were targeted as a group at university. Charlotte and Marjit followed, seemingly as a second targeted group.”
Rob interjected. “Why are you saying they were targeted?”
“Well. The money. I have found evidence of big money changing hands between Cayman Island bank accounts and secret details which yes, I had to hack, on a secure server in the Fairport Medical network, again located in the Cayman Islands. That does not suggest normal transactions for medical services. This Dr Normandy character may charge top dollar for his services but nothing on his website suggests he charges the sort of money that is changing hands.”
“How much is it?”
“Around half a mill per girl.”
“Bloody hell.”
“You see. Something dodgy is going on here and the fact that we have four murdered girls and an attempted murder on Anya, tells me we have stumbled on something massive.”
Rob sat down. The use of the word murder took the wind out of him.
“I’m sorry. This is all so fucked up. You should take this to the police now. Anya is in danger.”
“Look Rob. I agree. Anya is in danger but regardless of how I obtained this information, I don’t think it is enough and with the people involved in this conspiracy I would not be surprised if there are some corrupt police officers on the payroll.”
“Oh, come on. You have to believe that the police, of all people, can be trusted.”
“I am sorry Rob, you are being naïve. Look at the car accidents. None of them solved. A flaky investigation. The only lead is the mention of a black 4x4. Someone is covering these up.”
“Look Clark, I get your life mission is to find a conspiracy and avenge your father but we don’t have time. Anya needs to be protected.”
“She should be safe in hospital. The police are investigating and this should keep some presence around her for a bit.”
“You just said we can’t trust the police!”
They both stared at each other, their heckles rising again like two stags ready to rut.
“OK. I know you are frantic with worry. Why don’t you speak to the ward sister rather than the police and make sure the ward is secure?”
Rob’s head was spinning. He still wasn’t sure about this nerd but there was something about him that made Rob want to believe him. To make him feel less alone.
“Fine. I will speak to her tomorrow.”
Rob got up and looked at the board again. He suddenly spotted something he hadn’t noticed before.
“Holy crap. Why is there a picture of the prime minister on the board?”
“Well, therein lies a mystery. His name was copied into the email I found that started this all off. The one between Dr Normandy and George Walker that listed the girls’ names and referred to the money. I have trawled the rest of the files and emails on the secret server and can’t find anything else with his name on it.”
“He can’t be involved. Surely. How on earth would he get away with it, being PM and trying to run the country?”
“Well, the email was three years old, before he was PM, but I agree it seems strange. I did get one of my online mates to look at his family though and the real dodgy one looks like his father, William Hardacre.”
“Never heard of him.”
“No reason why you would have unless you run in his circles. By all accounts he is a nasty piece of work with shit loads of money. Definitely seems like he used his connections to get James the PM job and…”
Clark had to stop. Trying to compose himself. Rob noticed.
“What’s the matter?”
“Sorry, this is where it gets really personal for me. It is rumoured he has connections with the men that shafted my father and forced him to commit suicide.”
“Oh my God Clark. Really?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus. If the Hardacre family are involved, this is really heavy. It just makes me more worried about Anya.”
The personal torment for both of them was now evident and it hung heavy in the room. After a few minutes where neither of them said anything, seemingly lost in their own thoughts, Rob went back to the board.
“OK, we know about George Walker. Seems to tick your box for the sleazy politician and clearly implicated by the email. The Hardacres are a worrying link but there is limited evidence they are involved. So, what about this doctor. Anya said she was treated by someone called Dr French and when we went to the clinic, they claimed he never worked there. You keep referring to a Dr Normandy.”
Clark snapped out of his daydream and tried to focus on what Rob was saying.
“Umm, Dr Normandy is the CEO of the clinic the girls were treated at. I don’t know who Dr French is. There is nothing in any of the files mentioning that name.”
“Do you think he was the one doing the dodgy deals behind Dr Normandy’s back?”
“Well, no, the email to George Walker was from Dr Normandy. He is definitely implicated.”
“This doesn’t make sense Clark. Your evidence trail does not match with Anya’s memories. We went to the clinic and they denied she had been treated there, or that Dr French ever existed. The day after we visited, someone tried to kill her.”
“Sorry, I don’t know what else to say but there is something else about Dr Normandy.”
“What?”
“He is a paedophile.”
“No. How more fucked up can this get. How do you know?”
“George Walker has a folder on the secure server with depraved pictures of Dr Normandy abusing children. It made me sick having to look at them.”
“What does this mean? Are they all paedos?”
“No, I don’t think so. My best guess is that George Walker and whoever is running this conspiracy are using this to make the doctor do what they want.”
Rob suddenly realised how tense he was. His stomach was in knots. He just couldn’t handle any more. He picked up his jacket.
“I have to go. It’s late.”
“But Rob, there is more we have to talk about.”
“Look mate, give it a rest. You are lucky I am still here. I need some time to process all this. Everything you said sounds plausible but it just makes me more worried. I need to go home, get some sleep and go and see Anya tomorrow. To make sure she is safe.”
“OK, but please come and see me again soon. We do need to talk some more. Here is my phone number.”
Rob left, got back to his car and drove to Goring in a daze.
How had he got in the middle of something so bad, so scary? Clark did seem genuine but he needed to see Anya again. Talk to her about all of this, even if she was only hearing him. As he drove along, he realised he was crying. He sniffed away the tears.
God, what the hell is going on?
35
The dreams came again.
*
LEX… LEXI… LEXIC… she could almost see the word. The screens wer
e still obscuring it. She strained to see but she was tied down again. Restrained. A horrible face, the wiry old man. Dr French. He was injecting her. She was getting woozy… nothing but blackness.
The dream changed.
Hands were all over her. Several men. Forcing themselves on her.
“Come on you whore, you know you want it.”
Bradley and some other men.
She was high but could still feel everything. The pain. The sexual abuse.
Anya’s brain was racing, mixed up with these awful dreams. She would wake up in a minute. Like all the other times and Rob would be there. Hold her. Make them go away, but… she couldn’t wake up. She was trapped in the blackness, her body paralysed. What was going on? She could hear Rob’s voice.
*
Rob had got through the morning in a daze and could have hugged Elisha to death when she turned up to relieve him, so he could come and see Anya.
After the previous night, he was so relieved she was safe. He had spoken to the ward sister about his fears and she had promised to keep everything secure. People could not get in the ward without pressing a buzzer and being let in by a member of staff. He was mildly reassured but took up his now regular place by her bedside, closed the door to her room so he couldn’t be heard and started to natter.
“Oh God Anya. It is all so terrible. I met him last night. Superman. Clark Kent. I am still not sure about him. He is driven by revenge, for his father’s suicide. Nothing seems to stop him. He is a criminal, a hacker. He found out about you by hacking websites, getting information he shouldn’t be able to have access to. But, everything he found seems to add up. It seems to ring true with your experiences and the awful dreams you had. There are four other girls and they are all dead. My God Anya, someone was trying to kill you. You are the last one of the five.”
He had to pause for breath. She just lay there. No response.
“This is really bad Anya. Big money has been changing hands. We don’t know what for. There is a doctor involved but not the one you remember, a sleazy politician and, Jesus, I can’t believe I am saying this, but we think James Hardacre could be involved or his dodgy father.”