by Jem Tugwell
I had seen something when I had been in the garage before. I ran over to the cupboard and pulled down a box of split-pins. I could pick the lock.
As I ran back along the passage to the cage, I bent a slight curve into one split-pin to act as a pick and bent the other into an L-shaped lever.
I got to the door to the cage. Zoe’s shaking told me I needed to be quick. I lifted the pick, putting it into the lock, trying to feel for the pins. I couldn’t feel anything through my shaking hands, so I dropped the lever.
Calm.
I took four breaths and started again.
DC Zoe Jordan
I dug deep, driven by a primal will to survive and found some last strength. I forced my toes back up, but I couldn’t hold myself for much longer. My feet collapsed. The shriek from my muscles was nothing compared to the agony of the strap gripping on my throat. Each second closed it more.
Emma’s head lolled forward. She slumped into a crooked mess in the growing pool of her blood by the wall.
I shot my eyes back to the door as I heard Clive come back. Help me.
He was kneeling by the door fumbling and swearing. Dropping pins and then picking them up again. Just fucking get on with it.
He stopped for breath and started fiddling again with the lock.
I couldn’t go on. My weight swung on the strap. I gasped for air but found none. I expected my life to flash before me, but instead, I had an image of me lying on Mum’s lap. She soothed me, stroking my hair as she had done when I was ill.
DI Clive Lussac
The picks weren’t working. I glanced up to see how Zoe was doing but she was gasping for air like a stranded fish.
I looked at the lock again, trying to force myself to think clearly. It was protected on the inside with a thick piece of metal covering the gap between the door and the frame, hiding the metal bolt. It had been installed to keep people in, not out. On my side of the door, I could see the bolt.
I heard feet behind me. One of the Uniforms had come in but stared in open-mouthed shock as he took in the cage, two hanging bodies and the slumped Emma.
He shook himself and held up an ancient blue Makita battery angle grinder. ‘This any good?’ He blipped the power button and I smiled as the blade spun.
‘Perfect,’ I said, and took it from him. It was too old to have all the health and safety locks in it. No link to iMe, no link to Well-being and Health. I didn’t have safety glasses, gloves, or protective clothing, but the grinder didn’t care. It was happy to help.
The blade sang and bucked as it touched the bolt. I corrected my aim and revelled in the noise, the spray of bright yellow sparks and the hard smell of cutting metal. The bolt didn’t last long.
I ran to Zoe, grabbing one of the knives by a chair, I sliced at the fabric strap above her head. I eased her to the ground and loosened the strap around her neck. She lay still, with no breath or movement. Shit.
I wanted to stay with her, but I couldn’t leave Art to die. I ran over to him and cut him down. He coughed and spluttered as I released the tension around his neck. He croaked, trying to say something. I leant in close so that I could hear.
‘Winning,’ he said.
I had no idea what he was winning, but I left him wheezing and coughing and went back to Zoe.
I tried mouth to mouth. Nothing. Desperate breaths and pumping on her chest, willing her to live.
Nothing.
76
DI Clive Lussac
My shoulder was almost healed and I wore the fading bruises like yellow make-up. I had stopped for a quick break in the sun but couldn’t put it off any longer. I walked back down into the depths of PCU to the evidence store and walked past the ghosts of my life in their cardboard boxes.
All my old cases. I trailed my hand over them as I passed each one, trying to reconnect. Trying to remember the people. The boxes were big, but these days we only needed small ones to hold the physical evidence. All the rest was stored on iMe.
Fraud needed everything we had, so I put the last of the evidence against Doris onto the trolley, then placed Emma’s Suppressors and Mimics on top.
***
After dropping most of the boxes at Fraud, I carried the last ones along the corridor of the iMe office. There was something different in the atmosphere, like the fundamental belief in iMe’s infallibility had changed.
The assistant let me into the office. I stepped in and up to the desk.
‘That’s it,’ I said, as I pushed the boxes onto the desk.
Art stood and looked inside. He was wearing a soft scarf to hide his neck and his voice still croaked. ‘Thank you, Inspector.’
He held his hand out. ‘For these,’ he said. ‘And for saving my life.’
For the first time I sensed warmth and genuine emotion coming from him, but I left his hand hanging like he had left mine at the beginning. We weren’t friends – not after all his lies and the abuse we uncovered.
He made out like he was a victim. The bastard must have pulled strings to cover up the evidence and come out of all this squeaky-clean. Nothing stuck to him. Not the parties or the casting room. I couldn’t find his laptop in the evidence store, even though it had been in Emma’s cage and had been signed into the store. It was like it never happened.
‘I’ll make sure these Suppressors and Mimics are only used for the good of iMe,’ Art said as I left.
Like hell he will.
***
I walked into a room full of women. The late afternoon sun shone through the window and painted the room in a warm yellow glow.
Bhatt was at the end of the bed. Zoe sat propped up, looking much brighter today. Her neck was vivid and raw, but at least she wore a big smile. She had a rash of small plasters on her arms to cover the cuts.
Two nurses were fussing with tubes and charts. Checking and rechecking.
‘How are you doing?’ I said.
‘Better today,’ Zoe said in a tight, low whisper.
‘No talking,’ said one of the nurses. ‘She needs to rest her throat.’
We waited in silence as the nurses finished and then Bhatt looked at Zoe and said, ‘Are you sure, Zoe?’
Zoe flashed a thumbs up.
‘What?’ I said. ‘Fill me in.’ They had agreed on something beforehand. Was Zoe going to transfer out of PCU?
‘Your time at PCU has come to an end, Clive,’ Bhatt said.
No. After all this time, I couldn’t sit at home doing nothing. Was Zoe going to run PCU? Shit, I know the investigation wasn’t perfect but to get the sack?
‘We’re setting up a new unit and I want you to head it.’ Bhatt smiled, enjoying the deliberate misdirection of my thoughts.
‘What unit?’
‘We’re calling it Off-Grid Crime for the moment. We need it, what with Suppressors, Mimics and the Health Bank bracelets as well.’ She paused to let it sink in.
‘It’s official?’ I asked, not sure I could believe her.
‘Yes, it was signed off today by the chief constable, the Ministry and iMe.’
I wore a smile that almost burst my face. ‘Fantastic. I’ll need a team.’
I saw the answer in Bhatt’s eyes before she shook her head.
‘Just me?’ I said.
They would probably lock me in some tiny windowless office all alone.
‘Not exactly, you’ll be joined by one other officer.’
Zoe tried her best smile but stopped when it hurt. She replaced it with a double thumbs up.
***
I floated along the corridor replaying Bhatt’s words. My own department. OK, it was tiny, but it was a start, and being with Zoe all the time made it perfect.
Then the day which I didn’t think could get any better, did.
The message came in from Winter. It started full of threat and bluster, but the end was what mattered.
‘After discussion with iMe and the Ministry, we have decided to put our active investigation of you on hold for the present time. We will ret
ain a passive monitoring of your intake and should you re-offend then…’
I stopped reading. I had seen all I needed to. Bhatt had come through for me again. I couldn’t run my new department from a reorientation camp.
‘Delete message.’
My Buddy ran out at the bottom of the screen with the banner that said ‘Delete? Are you sure?’ He shrugged with his palms up and waited for my reply.
‘Yes,’ I said, grinning like Scooby-Doo about to get some snacks.
Buddy nodded, carried out a bin and lifted the lid. The message collapsed on itself and reformed as a sheet of screwed up paper. It flew across my HUD and hit the lip of Buddy’s bin, rolled around the top once and then fell in. Buddy closed the lid of the bin with a clang and ran off the screen with the bin and Winter’s message.
77
DI Clive Lussac
I was trying to get everything ready. Tonight was our first date together, and I was hosting. The cleaning robot was in boost mode and the poor thing was on its third battery charge. At least the floor looked clean now.
It was the false calm between getting ready and the date beginning. I was an hour early and had time to kill. I couldn’t help thinking about Art.
I turned the news on to take my mind off him – I didn’t want to be grumpy for the date. The reporter was talking about the sudden rise in popularity of the government and asking if the timing was linked to the latest iMe version upgrade.
Probably just some conspiracy theory, I thought. But then I remembered that I had three new pots of peanut butter, and I hated peanut butter. What had made me buy those?
***
In my bedroom, I could hear sounds that must be the corrective work that was apparently necessary to her hair. It had looked good to me, but I had been told that a rogue gust of wind outside my flat had upset the perfection.
In the old days, I would have lit candles, but they were a fire risk and impossible to get anymore, so I had the walls showing images of open fires instead. The sound was turned up high enough to hear the soft crackle of the flames.
The noises from the bedroom stopped, and I stood still, smoothing my new suit and rubbing my new shoes into a higher shine on the backs of my trousers.
Zoe came into the room and smiled. I hadn’t realised how much I cared for her until I saw her bleeding and suffering at Emma’s home. She still had the bruises on her neck, but at least they were fading now.
‘Mum’s ready.’
‘You sure you’re OK with this?’ I said. She nodded and lifted her head to look at me. I smiled.
Sophia came out of the bedroom. Whatever had been wrong with her hair was fixed. She was gorgeous. Her hair shone almost as much as her dress, and her smiling eyes held me captive. All I could do was stare.
‘Have fun, kids,’ Zoe said as she pecked me on the cheek and then landed another on Sophia.
***
They used to say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. These days the saying would have to be amended to the way to a person’s heart is through their stomach via a carefully selected nutritious and calorie-controlled eating plan, but that was more of a mouthful than the food it promised.
I’d never known the way to a woman’s heart, but I had discovered that rescuing her daughter from certain and horrible death went a long, long way.
Emma had killed Mary and I would carry her loss for the rest of my life – along with the guilt of my new hope.
I shook the thought away and resumed my staring at Sophia.
‘What are we eating?’ she said.
‘Salad to start,’ I said, with an embarrassed smile. I knew that I needed to make changes to my life and this was my first concession.
Sophia nodded.
‘Then steaks, a bottle of Amarone – 16% alcohol and full of flavour. Then chocolate fondant.’ I had changed, but not that much. Cooking two steaks was simple, and I had bought the rest already prepared.
She frowned. ‘But won’t that swamp our FU allowance?’
‘We can worry about that later.’ I crossed to the kitchen. ‘I have a present for you.’
‘Really?’ She came closer, and then failed to hide her disappointment with the gift as I placed a battered cardboard box on the worktop. I knew that presentation was everything, but I hadn’t been able to find a jewellery box in time.
‘Open it,’ I said.
She prodded the box with a dubious finger, like she thought something would jump out at her. She opened it and held the present in her hand. I could see her mind working: how do I tell him that I hate it?
‘It’s… nice,’ she said, trying to buy some time.
‘Trust me, you’ll love it.’ I took it from her and held her hand. It was cool and soft. Just touching her sent shivers rippling through me.
I put her present on.
‘That’s a bit tight,’ she said.
I passed her a glass of wine.
‘Bring up your FU usage page.’ I watched her eye and saw her other hand move as she did.
‘Take a drink and tell me what happens.’
She did as she was told. ‘The alcohol and calories have moved a bit. Like always.’
I pressed her wrist. ‘That feels weird,’ she said.
‘Now take another drink.’
She took a second sip. ‘The readings haven’t moved,’ she said. She took another, larger mouthful. ‘Nothing. Where did you get it?’ Her smile saddened a little. ‘And what about you?’
I held my hand up to stop the questions and reached back into the cupboard. I brought down a second box. It had ‘PCU Evidence’ stamped on the side. I opened the box and took out a second bracelet from the Health Bank that had accidentally fallen into my pocket when I got the Suppressors and Mimics for Art.
As Doris would have said – I had taken a fucking liberty.
With thanks...
To Rax, James, Georgie and my family and friends for all their support.
To Karyn for proving how long she could stand on tiptoe – and the next few days of aching muscles.
To Amanda, my editor at Let’s Get Booked.
To Abbie at Pilcrow Proofreading.
To the TrashFiction crew for all the support and jokes: Marwa Ayad, Steph Cleary, Esther Eley, Patricia Marques Guerreiro, Nadine Matheson, Luke Morris, Satu Pietila, Amber Raven, Jonathan Richards, Kerry Baptiste.
To my tutors and markers during the City University Crime MA course: Laura Wilson, Claire McGowan, Angela Clarke, Stav Sharez and William Ryan.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Proximity. I hope you found its blend of crime thriller and near future both plausible and thought provoking. Where is your perfect balance of ‘free will’ versus ‘for the greater good’? Where do you see our world going? I would love to hear your views.
If you enjoyed the story, I’d be extremely grateful if you would write a review. Getting feedback from readers is extremely rewarding and also helps persuade others to pick up one of my books for the first time.
For news about the next in the series, please visit me at my website - www.jemtugwell.com or join me on Twitter @JemTugwell.
All the best,
Jem
Read NO SIGNAL, the breathtaking follow-up novel to ‘Proximity’ and the second book in the iMe series.
Can a game change the world?
The Ten are chosen – they are reckless, driven and strong.
They are tested. Ten become Four.
In a country where everyone is tracked, how can the Four hide from the police?
DI Clive Lussac hates the system that controls everything, but he's ill and it’s helping him.
He must decide: conform or fight.
As Clive's world unravels, he and his partners DC Ava Miller and DS Zoe Jordan can’t believe the entry price to the game.
They strive to answer the real questions:
Why does the ultimate Augmented Reality game have four different finishes?
And how is
a simple game wrapped up in politics, religion and the environment?
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