Driving Dead

by Stephen G Collier

  ‘That’s a ridiculous rule.’

  ‘They seem to have made their mind up and remember, I’ve been told to keep my distance from you on more than one occasion, so the performing seals want to interview me.’

  ‘But that’s stupid.’

  ‘I know that, you know that, but they don’t. You know that doing FLO and getting too close to the person you’re supposed to be looking after is a big no-no. Most of the time it’s not a problem, but when one of your own gets involved, there is a natural responsibility to do more. You know?’

  ‘It’s stupid, if you ask me,’ said Kirsty folding her arms across the front of her indignantly.

  ‘I know, which is why I told them I wasn’t going to stop. Somebody reported me and I think I know who it was.’

  ‘Randall?’

  ‘Can’t really say if he’s that sort of cop.’

  ‘Couldn’t you tell them we’re just good friends?’

  ‘It’d be no good.’

  ‘It’s not as if we’re sleeping together, is it?’

  Jake flushed. Kirsty smiled. Jake felt his colour rise and his mouth go dry. He couldn’t speak for a moment. Had she just invited him into her bed?

  Kirsty chuckled. ‘Look at you, Jake. You’re like a teenager with a crush on a girl.’

  ‘Perhaps because I have,’ he mumbled, ‘don’t tease.’

  ‘Now why would I do that?’

  Don’t blow this, Jake thought. He’d not been involved in this sort of thing, since he was dating Rosie. He was out of practise. ‘You know how I feel about you?’ he said modestly.

  ‘I have an idea, yes.’

  ‘How long have you had this idea?’

  ‘A little while, I guess.’

  ‘And you didn’t say anything?’

  ‘No, I was waiting for you.’

  Jake thought for a moment. ‘But is it right, not from the job’s point of view, I couldn’t care less about that, but the two of us – Jim’s wife…’

  ‘Widow,’ Kirsty corrected. ‘It’s not as if we’re having an affair, is it? We’re grown-ups. We both need to move on. I know that I’m still coming to terms with Jim’s death. He’ll always be a part of me. He will always be a part of us as well, but I am sure that if he’s watching, he’d be happy for us.’

  Jake sat up from the sofa and brushed his hand through his hair, looking at the floor. ‘Kirsty, I would be more than ecstatic to move our relationship forward.’

  ‘Oh, behave, Jake. You sound as if you’re on a management course. Just tell me plainly how you feel.’ She gazed seductively at him.

  All the conversation was in good humour. There was nothing to hide. He cleared his throat and sat back looking at her, studying her face, the green eyes which seemed to sparkle every time she looked at him, also surveying his face. The light from the lamp behind fell on her red hair, almost presenting itself as a halo around her head. He took a deep breath, before he spoke.

  ‘I’ve known it for a long time that I was falling in love with you. And, yes. I am like an adolescent – it’s been a little while since I did this sort of thing you know.’

  ‘But that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ Kirsty said, jumping up from the sofa and bringing back the half-empty bottle of red wine. She refilled their glasses.

  ‘But, how do you feel? You must have men falling over themselves to tell you that.’ He gave a nervous laugh.

  ‘Yes, they are, but they’re not you.’

  ‘Is it the right thing though?’ He still felt unconvinced.

  ‘Look, Jake, you want to be with me?’

  He nodded.

  ‘I want to be with you, not only because of everything you’ve done for me in the last twelve months, but because you’ve not forced it. I’ve always known you liked me even before Jim died, and I respect the fact that you have been more than professional during my traumas. But nature takes its course. I like you Jake, and I am very fond of you, but you can understand that I cannot say, at the moment, that truly I love you, even though my heart may be telling me otherwise. I am a scientist, after all.’ She smiled.

  ‘In time then?’

  ‘Yes, in time. You know that Jim was the world to me. I loved him and I gave him my heart. We were soulmates, until he was torn away. It’s not like divorce or a separation. Tyler tore us apart, a breaking asunder of two people, who had vowed in a Christian church to spend the rest of their lives together.’

  ‘No, I understand that, I certainly do and I’m not saying that we should jump into bed straight away. It will take time. These things do, but I’m just happier now that you know how I feel and we’ll see how time progresses us. I’m in no rush.’

  ‘And that’s why I like being with you, Jake, because you don’t push. You’re just happy for us to be together.’

  Raising their glasses, Jake said, ‘To us then.’

  29

  Wednesday – Ian Morton

  Stanwick Lakes had been, for many years, a gravel pit, extracting sand and gravel for local building works. As all the gravel had been extracted it had been developed into a series of lakes for fishing, recreation and now parts had been redeveloped as a retail outlet. The area was flat and in the early autumn, the sun shimmered off the water with a relaxing glow, as one stood and watched it set.

  Standing on an outcrop of land, just north of the lakes, Ian Morton watched his team putting the finishing touches to the hedgerow they were laying for the local farmer. He’d agreed with him to do it some months earlier, but it was only now that he’d got around to it, just in time for the end of the season.

  He stood with his hands in the pockets of his overalls and was speaking to his foreman, giving him instructions for the completion of the job. They finished speaking on a joke to which they both laughed loudly. Morton walked away from his employee with a wave and a smile, kicking at the grass as he walked back towards his pick-up. He was in a good mood. As he got back into his pick-up. He shut the door with a loud bang that caused a flock of birds sitting on the water behind him to take flight.

  She had been sitting in the truck since he’d picked her up from home. She wanted to spend the day with him as she had the day off, she told him. That was all well and good for her, but he still had to work. She nevertheless insisted that she should spend the day with him.

  Settling into the driver’s seat, he started the engine, looked over to her and smiled. They continued with the conversation they were having before he’d arrived at the lakes.

  ‘Well?’ he said. ‘Did you get what I needed?’

  ‘I’ve got some of them,’ she said, cryptically.

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘They’re safe, where no one would look for them.’

  ‘OK. When will you get the rest?’

  ‘Tomorrow, probably.’

  ‘Take them to the house then.’

  ‘What are you going to do with them all. It’ll be a hell of a cocktail?’

  ‘I just want to get rid of some vermin, that’s all.’

  ‘I just hope that she won’t notice.’

  ‘What’s the likelihood of that?’

  She shrugged. ‘Depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘Whether they do an inventory check.’

  ‘Would they?’

  She shrugged again. Very helpful, Morton thought.

  Driving back onto the A45, he headed towards Northampton, past the new commercial centre on a site he remembered used to be an outdoor ski-slope. They travelled on towards Wellingborough. She had been quiet, sitting next to him and fiddling with her phone.

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ she said, suddenly, ‘let’s go back to my place.’

  ‘What happens if she comes home?’

  ‘No, my place, I rent a semi.’

  ‘Really? Where?’

 
She tapped the side of her nose. ‘I’ll direct you, when we get nearer.’

  ‘And what do you want to do there?’

  ‘Whatever you want.’ She leaned across and rubbed Morton’s thigh, then thrust her hand between his legs.

  Morton looked at her and smiled. ‘You don’t need to go to your rental.’ He grabbed her hand and kept it between his legs.

  ‘Ian, I’m not a slut and I’m certainly not giving you a blow job in this dirty old bucket.’ She smiled. ‘Later maybe, but not here.’

  Morton turned his face down in a fake sulk. ‘I’ll hold you to that when we get to wherever we’re going.’ He released her hand as they approached a roundabout, then continued on in silence. He had a smug look on his face thinking about what might happen when they got to her place. He was determined that he was going to get his end away. That was for sure.

  Closer to Northampton, she gave Morton directions to her rented house on the estate.

  The house was a small semi-detached, in the middle of a council estate. The fronts were dotted with grey and green refuse wheelie bins with big white numbers painted on them. None of the open-plan gardens had been maintained. Most were overgrown with high grass and nettles. Morton saw the remnants of a broken multi-gym sitting, rusting by a front door, and he didn’t understand why people didn’t look after their gardens. If they asked him, he’d do it for them. He made a mental note to do a leaflet drop there.

  She told Morton to park on the hardstanding outside the house. They walked up to a white PVC front door. She unlocked it and they both went in.

  The place was dark. The curtains were closed. He saw that there was very little in the way of furniture. And only the essentials in the kitchen.

  ‘How long have you had this place?’

  ‘Couple of years.’

  ‘You’ve never mentioned it before.’

  ‘You don’t know everything about me, you know, Ian.’

  Morton wandered around after taking his boots off. ‘Not done much with it then?’ He smiled.

  ‘I come over here to get away from you-know-who.’

  ‘Does she know you’ve got it?’

  ‘Of course not.’ She took off her coat and hung it over the bannister.

  ‘It may look like a crap hole downstairs, but why don’t you go up to the bedroom, and see what I’ve done there.’ She directed him up the stairs with a wink.

  Morton thought that she was taking him to a whole new level, a house of her own, a secret from Her. He smiled as he climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom.

  A huge double bed dominated the room. There was a built-in wardrobe. The door was open. He glanced inside, just a few clothes. He slid the door shut and walked into the en-suite bathroom. It was small and only had a shower and a sink. The shelf above the sink had a few essentials. The shower needed a good de-moulding. He could offer to do that for her.

  He turned and walked back into the bedroom. The walls were a light shade of yellow. It brightened the room, for the bedroom window seemed small and looked as though it had never been cleaned on the outside. Morton could hear her downstairs in the kitchen.

  He sat down on the bed and felt the springiness of it. He’d taken his boots off downstairs, which was good, as the mud would only have messed up the thick cream-coloured carpet.

  He swung himself up onto the bed as she walked in, carrying two mugs. ‘Have you not got anything stronger?’

  She smiled. ‘I’m sorry, no. The cupboard is bare, like you should be by now.’

  ‘I thought that I would give you that pleasure,’ he teased.

  She smiled and gave him that incredibly sexy pout he’d come to love. ‘As you wish, but drink your drink first,’ she instructed, as she sat on the bed and passed him his mug. They both drank in silent anticipation and she made no attempt to rush him. He liked that. He didn’t like to do things in a hurry.

  She stood and went and stood by the window, as if waiting for something.

  Morton continued to drink, but as he did so, he felt as if he’d actually had too much alcohol. He couldn’t understand it. ‘Are you shurr you din’ put anyfin in this?’ he slurred.

  She turned to him. She looked as if she was shocked at what she saw, but he couldn’t tell as two of her swimming together, with psychedelic lights exploding behind. He slumped down onto the bed, spilling what was left of his drink. He tried to sit up. She came over to him. He was sure she was telling him to drink up. He was trying, but he couldn’t lift his arms. They felt as if they were being weighed down with concrete, like his eyelids. ‘P’raps I need to shleep,’ he slurred.

  ‘Yes, you do.’

  30

  The medical development facility, operated by a US corporation, was situated in the grounds of one of the newest UK hospitals in Coventry. The two-storey building was light, airy and predominantly made of glass. As Jake and Kirsty drove towards the facility, the sun reflected off the glass, making the whole building light up like a beacon in front of them.

  They parked in one of the visitors’ spaces and entered through the rotating doors. The reception area was cool and spacious. There was an atrium behind the reception desk. It had an ornamental pond with running water that trickled and burbled gently, giving everywhere a sense of calmness. It had a high glass ceiling, revealing the sky above. There were a few tables and chairs, where people could sit and talk or conduct business meetings. The sun sparkled off the running water.

  There were two lifts on either side of the pond with glass frames showing the occupants. They moved up and down silently, the doors sliding open smoothly with a light hiss.

  They were expected and were quickly shown up to Tanya Nicholls’s office, on the first floor, where they were offered refreshments and told to sit and wait for Tanya, who was in the laboratory.

  Jake wandered around the medium-sized office. More glass. Not a lot of privacy, as he looked out of the window across the hospital grounds. He was still looking out when Tanya arrived.

  She sat down behind her desk, a little out of breath. ‘Sorry. I just wanted to check out something, before I spoke to you.’ She swept a lock of hair behind her ear.

  ‘Good news?’ Kirsty asked enthusiastically.

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  Jake sat down next to Kirsty. ‘And?’

  ‘It seems that it is some sort of drug with GHB as its base component.’

  Jake glanced at Kirsty. ‘The date-rape drug?’

  ‘Yes, it would seem so. Very very clever, whoever did it. Someone with a deep understanding of microbiology.’ Tanya smiled. It wasn’t warm like the smile he’d seen recently. It was almost smug, which raised a question in Jake’s mind, but he dismissed it.

  ‘No wonder we didn’t know what it was,’ Kirsty said.

  ‘I know, but what gets me is that if GHB was its foundation, then the amount of time involved in these deaths, you shouldn’t have found it at all. You need to remember that Gamma Hydroxy Butyrate has particular qualities that make it perfect for use, as you’ve said, in assault cases. GHB is one of the few drugs that crosses the blood-brain barrier without anything chemically needing to happen first. We know that it is similar to the Gamma Amino Butyric Acid – GABA, that the body produces naturally, so any changes in the make-up of GHB itself would have to take into consideration how it would react with the body.’

  ‘So, what if, whoever made the drug got the formula wrong? Might that account for the fact that we can still find it in the body?’ Kirsty asked.

  ‘Anyone playing with the synthesis of any drugs has a period of, shall we say, trial and error.’ That smile again, Jake noticed. ‘But that still doesn’t account for why it didn’t disappear in the blood.’ A look of concern crossed Tanya’s face.

  ‘Perhaps,’ offered Kirsty, ‘the person doing this is not such an expert, after all?’

  Tanya raised
an eyebrow. ‘Possibly.’

  Jake sat back in the chair, thinking. ‘So, if it’s a new synthesis of GHB–’

  ‘Which it seems to be… ’ interrupted Tanya.

  ‘Then you should be able to identify how it has been changed, surely?’

  ‘In theory, yes.’

  ‘I sense a but,’ Kirsty said.

  ‘There is a big but.’ Tanya sat forward leaning on her desk with her arms out front, forming a triangle.

  ‘What is it?’ Jake asked.

  ‘In order for us to find out how its new synthesis works, we need to do a bit more research. We need to understand what happens when it’s in the body to be able to do what it does.’

  ‘How long will that take?’ asked Jake.

  ‘We don’t know. What we have done is identified that one of the new molecules has a resistant shell. Now, this is very difficult to synthesise without having the right equipment and the scientific knowledge to do it. What we don’t know is what happens when that breaks down.’

  ‘We do know, don’t we. It sends drivers, and only drivers apparently to sleep, when they are behind the wheel. They die. They crash.’

  ‘But why only when they are driving?’ Kirsty directed the question to the two of them. Tanya was the first one to answer.

  ‘It has to be specific to react with certain neurotransmitters in the brain, perhaps those associated with driving. It’s like these drugs I am working with for my Parkinson’s research.’

  ‘What neurotransmitters?’

  ‘That’s years of research, Jake.’

  ‘We don’t have years to wait, Tanya. We need some pretty swift answers.’

  ‘I can’t see how we can work any quicker, not without more funding.’

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  ‘Look,’ said Tanya eventually, ‘I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything. However, what I can tell you is, that in order for this drug to work, it has to act on those voluntary movements controlled in the motor cortex in the brain and–’