Double Check

by Malcolm Rose

  ****

  Nicoletta had a plush apartment overlooking Southern Park. But it wasn’t the view or the furnishing that caught Luke’s eye first. It wasn’t even the Chair of Sheffield Pairing Committee herself. It was the large hairy spider that covered her entire right palm that grabbed Luke’s attention. He let out a small gasp.

  Nicoletta smirked. “You aren’t scared, are you?” Her tone wasn’t very friendly. It was intended to tease.

  “Not if you aren’t.”

  “You can hold him, if you like.” She held out her right hand. In comparison with the jet-black spider, the skin of her protruding fingers looked paler than normal. Her forefinger was slightly discoloured.

  “No, thanks,” Luke replied. “I’m pretty big from its point of view. I might scare it.”

  She laughed. “That’s possible. He’s a European wolf spider. Most people call him a tarantula.”

  “Isn’t it poisonous?” Luke asked.

  “All spiders are poisonous to some degree. They subdue and kill their prey by injecting poison, then they suck the juices out. But their fangs can’t usually penetrate human skin. This one can bite right through but its poison is nothing to worry about. The only risk in handling him is a bit of irritation from his hairs, that’s all.” She stood up and walked over to a large glass tank, took off its lid and coaxed the spider back into its artificial surroundings. It crawled sluggishly onto the dry earth as if unwilling to leave her warm hand. “It’s a pity spiders have got such a bad reputation because most aren’t dangerous to us at all. When people say they’re scared, it’s all in the mind.”

  She returned to her seat and waved Luke towards another chair. Uninvited, Malc settled on a sideboard. Nicoletta glanced at the mobile but talked only to Luke. “Your... friend, Jade Vernon, would know all about a folk dance from southern Europe. It’s got a fascinating history. Once, people thought they’d suffer fatal depression if a tarantula bit them. The only cure was to dance like crazy until the symptoms had gone.” She shook her head and smiled. “The dance was infectious. All very jolly to cancel out the depression. Everyone joined in. A type of mass hysteria took over whole villages. Eventually, someone put the dance to music and it was called the tarantella – after the spider.”

  “I didn’t know,” Luke admitted. “But I thought we’d get around to Jade one way or another.”

  “Yes. You must know why you’re here.” She raised her left hand, flashing her pairing ring with its sizeable sapphire.

  Luke nodded. He realized he was about to hear the Pairing Committee’s verdict, but there was more to the visit than that. Nicoletta could have announced the outcome by telescreen or called him to a formal meeting in the City Hall. He knew she’d invited him to her apartment for a different reason and he had already guessed what it was.

  She said, “Last week, I told you not to hold out much hope. I have some sympathy with your claim personally, but the committee wasn’t impressed with your argument for pairing with Ms Vernon. They seemed to think you were trying to pull rank as a forensic investigator, trying to get special treatment. I’m sorry.”

  Luke looked away. “Well, you did warn me, but I’m still...”

  “Disappointed. I can tell.” She paused before adding, “I suppose I could raise the issue with my colleagues again because it’s not a final decision. But you’d have to give me more to work with, if you see what I mean.”

  In the far corner, one of Nicoletta’s pets was crawling up the glass wall of its enclosure. It was unusual to see a spider from the underside and it looked less creepy that way. Next to the glass cage, there was an air freshening unit.

  “You don’t have to figure anything out now,” she continued. “Go away and have a think about it. If you don’t contact me, I’ll ratify your pairing with Georgia Bowie. If you do, I’ll see if I can change anything. But,” she said, standing up, “you must understand the odds are still stacked against you.”

  Luke was not surprised by the decision. More than that, it was exactly what he’d expected, so he wasn’t shocked. Adopting a tone midway between sadness and defiance, he replied, “All right. I’ll be in touch. Definitely.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  As soon as the door slid shut behind Luke and he stepped out into the cold walkway, he turned towards Malc. “I bet you’ve got something to tell me.”

  “Are you referring to my analysis of the apartment?”

  With a grin, Luke mimicked his mobile. “Confirmed.” He was now so sure that he was witnessing The Authorities laying a trap for him that he could predict Malc’s findings. He was convinced that Nicoletta Boniwell was mimicking a cigarette smoker.

  “The air contained traces of tobacco smoke and the dust on the surface of the sideboard included cigarette ash.”

  Luke nodded. “She’d got some yellow on her forefinger as well.” He laughed quietly to himself. “She went out of her way with some dye, I guess, to make sure it was noticeable.”

  Obstinate, Malc noted, “The evidence indicates that she smokes tobacco.”

  “But she doesn’t,” Luke replied. “There wasn’t any cotinine in her metabolic profile.”

  “Inadmissible.”

  “She’s laying a false trail, wanting me to think she’s hooked on cigarettes,” Luke claimed. “Why did she ask me to her apartment? To give you the opportunity to detect tobacco. She’s planted the evidence, Malc. She even had the spider in her hand for a reason. She used it to draw attention to the yellow patch on her finger.”

  “Without valid data to the contrary, you have sufficient evidence to charge Nicoletta Boniwell with cigarette smoking.”

  “That’s what you’re supposed to think. Get your electrons round this, Malc. I’m supposed to deduce that she took a tobacco bribe from Mollie Gazzo and Rufus Vile. It’s The Authorities’ way of inviting me to find a source of cigarettes and bribe her with them. She said, ‘I could raise the subject again, but you’d have to give me more to work with, if you see what I mean.’ If you see what I mean! You don’t see what she means because you don’t understand people. But I do. It was a prompt to buy her off. And if I tried – to pair with Jade – I’d be in deep trouble, probably out of a career.”

  “In law, that is speculation.”

  “Could someone smoke tobacco and not have cotinine in their metabolic profile?”

  “It would take several days for cotinine to pass out of the human body following consumption of a cigarette. Regular smokers would always have it in their profiles.”

  “It’s all a con, then. And I can prove it. We’re going back in and you’re going to get close enough to scan the colour on her right forefinger without her knowing. Can you do that?”

  “What information are you hoping to gain?”

  “Is it a dye or a real smoker’s stain?”

  “I may already have sufficient data to distinguish these possibilities by comparing the yellow tint of Nicoletta Boniwell’s forefinger with that of the two known smokers in normal light. Infrared spectroscopic examination may not be necessary.”

  “Okay. Do it now.”

  Luke rocked back and forth on his feet, switching his weight alternately from his heel to his toes in an attempt to keep them warm.

  After a minute, Malc said, “The wavelength of the staining on Nicoletta Boniwell’s right forefinger is different from that of Mollie Gazzo and Rufus Vile. According to my library of visible spectra, the absorption of light corresponds exactly to turmeric.”

  “Turmeric?”

  “It is the natural yellow dye used to colour curries.”

  “Why would she rub curry powder on her finger, Malc?”

  “It would appear to be an attempt to deceive you into thinking that she smokes cigarettes.”

  Luke beamed. “That can go into case notes.”

  “Already logged.”

  Luke did not allow himself long to celebrate. “It’s true, then. This is my big test. I’m supposed to conclude she smokes and charge her with an il
legal act and arrest her on suspicion of corruption. Or I take advantage of the situation and bribe her to pair me with Jade. The Authorities will be waiting and watching to see which way I jump, to see if I pass or fail their loyalty test.” Heading back towards the freeway, he added, “The FI in me wants one thing. Me – myself – I want the other. For the moment, though, I’m going to let them stew. And... Well, they’re playing games with me, so I’ll play games with them.”

  “Explain.”

  “You’ll see. When I’m ready.” He stopped walking and turned towards his mobile. “Just tell me. Are you still holding facts back from The Authorities?”

  “Confirmed.”

  Luke smiled. He was relaxed now because he felt in control and he could see a way forward. “Good. Keep it like that or I’m snookered.” As soon as he said it, he put up his palm. “And don’t lecture me about the value of swerve shots.”

  ****

  “I’m going to put more pressure on Sadie Kershaw, Malc. I want you to send her a little reminder.” Luke scratched his head, thinking. “I know. Make it short and simple. Just put Twelve days before Everton Kohter’s execution on her telescreen. Repeat the message every day, knocking one off the countdown, till she gets in touch. She can’t ignore it – not if she’s human.”

  “I can confirm that she is human,” Malc replied.

  “Thanks. Just send the message.”

  “Transmitting.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Luke’s plan to prick Sadie’s conscience worked. But it took two days before she appeared on Luke’s telescreen and asked to meet him face-to-face.

  “It’s Thursday,” Luke replied, talking towards her image in his hotel room. “I’ve only got nine days. By that, I mean Everton’s got nine days. Just tell me what you know right now and I can get on with it.”

  Sadie shook her head. “I can’t be sure you’re the only one listening to what I say.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “This signal could be intercepted by... anyone.”

  Luke sighed. “All right. I’ll set out now. Where do you want to meet?”

  “Well, I’m not at work today. I really like the Design Gallery in Chesterfield. I’ll see you outside it, if that’s okay with you.”

  “I’ll find it.”

  “You can’t miss it. Just look for the spire.”

  ****

  Luke understood Sadie’s remark when he stood on the green outside the gallery. Straining his neck, he gazed at the enormous tapered tower that pointed towards the heavy sky. The spire did not merely narrow to a high pinnacle. The structure spiralled spectacularly as well, like a helter-skelter at a fairground. The rest of the building was just as chaotic. The stained glass windows were irregular shapes dotted haphazardly on the dark stone walls that bulged outwards imposingly. The whole place seemed to capture the spirit of an architect’s outrageous dream. It was impressive, bizarre and disturbing at the same time.

  Luke almost jumped when Sadie walked up behind him. “The famous twisted spire,” she murmured, as if in awe of the design.

  “The whole thing’s pretty warped.”

  “Mmm. Nice.”

  “Do you want to go in?” asked Luke.

  Sadie pointed to a bench, positioned on the lawn for the gallery’s admirers.

  With his gloved hand, Luke wiped away most of the cold water collected on the wooden slats of the bench. Then he turned to Malc. “Use your laser to evaporate the rest, please.”

  Malc did not grumble about the misuse of his functions. Instead he swept an intense laser beam over the bench until it was dry and warm.

  Once Luke and Sadie had both sat down and cast their eyes again over the misshapen building, Luke turned towards her. He was eager to hear whatever she had to say. “Well? No one’s eavesdropping here. And Malc’s still not sending details to The Authorities.”

  Sadie frowned. “How did you manage that?”

  “Never mind. There’s something more important. You want to tell me about Camilla Bunker.”

  Sadie shook her head. “Not really. I want to tell you about someone else. A man I knew a few years back. Another computer high-flier. We could have been paired but... It didn’t work out like that. Anyway, we... er... shared a dislike for a few things, like the way identity cards rule so much of our lives.”

  Anxious to get to the point, Luke interrupted. “So you decided to buck the system.”

  “We worked out what to do together. You know. We agreed what we’d do and what we wouldn’t. It was a matter of deciding what’s a good reason to help someone in a crisis and what isn’t.”

  “Like a wife wanting to get away from a no-good partner?”

  Sadie nodded. “I only help people with a good cause. They promise never to mention me and I promise never to say who they are. More than that, I’ll do my best to forget all about them after I’ve changed their identity cards, especially if I’ve given someone a new name. And, of course, I never keep a record. That’s the deal. It’s the only way it can work. Mutual trust.”

  “Mollie Gazzo broke that trust. She told me about you.”

  “Yes, but she’s the only one and The Authorities probably forced her into it somehow.”

  “Camilla Bunker broke another sort of trust,” Luke said to her. “You’re trying to help women beat stupid rules and turn a negative into a positive. That’s one thing. Helping Camilla get away with murder is something else. The law against killing isn’t a stupid rule, is it? She took advantage of you.”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’ve been racking my brains since you told me about that boy in prison. I don’t know anyone called Camilla Bunker. Never did. That’s why I decided to contact Lee McArthur. He went to Glasgow...”

  Interrupting, Luke queried, “Lee McArthur?”

  “My old friend. He designed computer systems for transport. We kept in touch for a while after he moved.”

  “Designed? Past tense?”

  Sadie nodded gloomily. “I wouldn’t have let on about him but it doesn’t matter any more, I guess. His partner – Farrah – told me he died two years ago. She sounded heartbroken – even after all this time.”

  “What’s he got to do with it?”

  “I told you how I operate because Lee was doing exactly the same in Glasgow.”

  “Ah. You’re wondering if he gave Camilla a new life.”

  “I asked Farrah if she knew anything, but she didn’t. That was part of our code as well. We told no one what we were up to.”

  “How did Lee die?” Luke said. “Did you ask?”

  “It was a terrible accident. He was electrocuted in the bathroom at home.”

  At once, Luke’s spine tingled and he sat on the edge of the bench. “Electrocuted?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Because Camilla Bunker was an electrician,” Luke replied. Suddenly eager to get a fast cab to Glasgow, he stood up. “If she got a new identity from Lee McArthur, she might’ve made sure he’d never be able to tell anyone her new name.”

  Thanking Sadie hurriedly, Luke headed for the nearest freeway reader with his identity card ready in his hand.

  ****

  While the electric cab swerved through the rugged Lake District, Luke said, “Flight GGW17. The plane that crashed. Was it on its way to Glasgow?”

  “Correct,” Malc answered. “London-to-Glasgow is not a regular service because London is not a popular point of departure. That is why the plane was not full. The airport is in west London, part of The Authorities’ regeneration scheme for Hounslow.”

  “That’s where they’re building a new sports stadium, accommodation and that sort of thing, to host the International Youth Games, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Hounslow Airport was constructed as a convenient destination for overseas’ athletes and their supporters. It is still open, but its aircraft maintenance centre was closed shortly after the accident.”

  “So, Camilla had a Glasgow c
onnection. Interesting.” Luke was beginning to see several strands coming together like spokes meeting at the hub of a wheel. “She worked in the transport industry, like Lee McArthur. She was an electrician and he designed computer systems, so she might well have come across him through her work. And if she found out what he did on the side... She would’ve told him she was on the run from a dreadful partner. She wouldn’t have said anything about hurting him.”

  “Speculation,” Malc said.

  “You’re getting seriously predictable, you know,” Luke replied.

  “All computer-based systems react in a logical and hence predictable way in a given situation. That is a strength, in contrast with the erratic behaviour of humans.”

  Luke laughed. “Now you’re getting competitive!” He was on a high because he thought that he was closing in on the real killer. He had no idea what more he could learn in Glasgow, but there was always a chance that Lee McArthur had left a crumb of evidence. Luke needed every morsel to clinch the case and free an innocent boy before he was put down like a dangerous animal. “I’m sure it should be Camilla Bunker – or whatever she’s called now – facing execution, not Everton.”

  If Malc could have sighed with frustration, he would have done so. But a machine never felt frustrated. “Your theory remains illogical and unlikely. If the prime suspect is innocent, you must explain why he was present at the crime scene and why he contaminated it so extensively.”

  Brought back down to earth, Luke nodded. “I know. I’m still trying to figure that out.” For a while, he watched a yacht slicing through Ullswater. It was chilly outside but not quite cold enough to freeze the whole lake. Along its edge, ice lay like broken panes of glass. The surrounding hillside was patchily white, but it was no longer snowing. “There’s one thing that occurs to me. Just maybe... Malc, see if you can get me a speech-only link to the prison doctor, if Cambridge has got one. I suppose they must have.”

  The cab zoomed past Carlisle and brushed the end of Solway Firth before Malc made a successful connection to Dr Lackie. His voice was beamed into the cab through Malc.