by Ian Cook
“That inscription?” said Rebecca. “It’s been translated already. The lady in the shop near the Stones told me a Dr Waddell had worked it out. She said he was some sort of expert.”
“Dr Waddell? Have you heard of him, Larry?” asked Jim.
“No, but we can look him up. I’ll call in at the university library when we get back to Aberdeen. Then let’s meet up in the hotel – at around six.”
Rebecca made up her mind quickly. “Could I have a lift back to Aberdeen, Larry?”
“Sure,” he said. “I’m leaving right now.” He thanked Rambo.
“I have a hunch we’ve fallen on something very big here,” said Rambo. “Let me know how you get on.”
CHAPTER 54
Miles Harris, the news editor of the Metropolitan, hit the roof when he read Syreeta’s interview with Jim Cavendish. The magnetic field story was now too big for the team to be headed up by the science correspondent. Harris wanted control of it himself. He summoned Geoff Evans to his office.
“Geoff. I want you on this magnetic field thing.”
“It’s not exactly my type of story…”
“You’ve got a bloody science degree, haven’t you?”
“Psychology, actually.”
“Well use it, whatever it is. Get on to the government and find out what they are going to do about it. And get a damn move on. I want to run with it for tomorrow.”
Evans, who had been on his way to having lunch with the mayor, raised his eyes to the ceiling and went back to his desk. He picked up the phone and tried the press office at DEFRA. Syreeta, seated opposite him, was busy on a local story. When she heard him say the words ‘magnetic field’, she stopped typing and casually pretended to leaf through some papers while she listened.
As soon as Evans had finished the conversation, she made for Charles’ office. He jumped as she swept in.
“Charles. This magnetic field story.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Why is Geoff Evans on it?”
“That’ll be Harris,” snorted Charles. “Evans is the last person who should be on this story.” He invited Syreeta to sit down. “Tell you what. Stay with it. Sounds like you’ve got a good rapport going with Cavendish. Use it. Get back to him and find out what’s going on. Don’t worry, I’ll back you up.”
She had almost reached the door when he called out half- heartedly, “You could just try ringing him this time. No need to fly anywhere at this point.”
Syreeta swung around. “Don’t you get it yet? This is a big story,” she said, and flounced out of the office.
When she got back to her desk, Evans was still on the phone and sounding increasingly frustrated. “Well, who can I talk to about it?” he fumed. “I’ve just tried DEFRA. They said try the Home Office. You’re the spokesman – you must know something. Someone in the government must be able to say what’s going on. What are you going to do? Why the secrecy? What are you trying to cover up?” He paused. “What do you mean – ‘Try Downing Street’? I thought you were supposed to be joined-up government these days.”
Syreeta packed up her laptop. As she left the office, Evans was still on the phone.
“If the Prime Minister can’t issue a statement, who can? People have a right to know…”
CHAPTER 55
Jim switched his mobile back on as he walked down the main steps in front of the Medical School. It rang immediately. He recognised the US number. “Hi, Greg. I was just about to phone you.”
“Jim, we think it’s bad. The Earth’s magnetic field is still weakening, and we think it’s going to get worse.”
“So do we,” said Jim, quietly. “I just hope our government can get its act together.”
“Well, all hell’s been let loose here, that’s for sure.”
“Why? What’s happening?”
“It’s the solar radiation we’re worried about at the moment. If it gets any higher, we think transformers will be knocked out by power surges. We’ve started a crash programme to build more, but that’ll take time – so we need generators. They’re being made in a big way right now. What’s more, we’re assuming satellites will be hit and planes will be grounded, so we’re planning alternative road and rail emergency transport systems.” He was silent for a moment. “But it’s always the unexpected, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Put it this way. People with red hair? Are they in the news over there? Doing funny things? Like having visions?”
“Red hair? Funny you should say that. But what about them? Is it important?”
“It’s getting quite serious here. Some of them are having visions, but some of them are being picked on. People are starting fights in bars, calling them names, ganging up on them. Even ginger kids are being picked on. Sounds funny, I know, but it’s getting nasty. Some people are being driven to change their hair-colour – dying it, or wearing wigs. But it doesn’t seem to make much difference.
People are still attacking them. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll keep you posted.”
Jim was wondering what to do next, when his phone rang again.
“Jim? It’s Syreeta. I’ve been trying to get through to you for hours! Your phone’s been switched off.”
“I’m sorry – I’ve been busy with quite an important experiment.”
“Did you see my piece in the Metropolitan?”
“Yes, I certainly saw it,” answered Jim, without enthusiasm.
“What’s the matter? Were there mistakes in it?”
“No, no, it was all quite correct. But it did rather drop me in it with Rebecca. I’ve had a bloody earful from her about giving you all the info on the pole switch. She accused me of doing you special favours. Putting it frankly, it’s between you two to sort it out. You’re both working for the same paper, aren’t you?”
“Listen, Jim, I’m officially doing the magnetic field story. Rebecca’s supposed to be working on the redheads story. But, Jim, she’s really worrying me – she’s acting very odd. Do you think she’s okay? She still seems obsessed with this Neferatu man. She still thinks he wants to kill her.”
“I know. Something’s going on in her mind, but I’m sure there’s no danger here. He’s just a bit weird, that’s all. But this is the peculiar thing! It’s all coinciding with this drop in the magnetic field – and it’s getting worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m probably asking for trouble telling you, but I’ve just been speaking to Greg in the States. He says there are a lot of redheads acting strangely. And people are picking on them – attacking them. Nobody knows why, and nobody knows what to do about it.”
“Tell me more. Do you think Rebecca is involved? I am her friend, you know.”
“Well, that experiment I mentioned. It was with Rebecca.”
“What! What the hell have you been doing to her?”
“It’s okay – she’s all right. We set her up to have more visions – we scanned her brain – but she got a bit frightened. Well, terrified actually. But she’s okay now.”
“Jim, what exactly happened?”
After Jim had outlined what had happened, he was taken aback to hear Syreeta take Rebecca’s side.
“Poor thing. Did you have to do that? You must have made her feel a hundred times worse. Is she around?”
“Yes. We’re about to head back to Aberdeen.”
“Tell her I’ll see her later.”
“But we’ll be in Aberdeen.”
“Talk later, Jim. I’m on my way to Heathrow. See you this evening.” As she rang off, Jim groaned.
CHAPTER 56
Larry dodged impatiently past a couple of students dawdling outside the entrance to the university library and pushed hard against the swing-door. He flashed his pass as he strode past the security guard and made his way to a computer in an alcove near the entrance to check the online catalogue. He was pleased to see that the book he was after was in the history stacks.
He knew the layout of the librar
y well and, within minutes, established that the book he needed was not actually there. The odd thing was, there was a distinct and fresh gap, entirely dust free, on the shelf where the book should have been, as if someone had only very recently taken it out. Quickly noting the long queue at the checkout desk, Larry cursed and headed instead for the two students at the ‘Returns’.
As he approached them, he drew in his breath and did something completely alien to his nature. Muttering apologies, he smiled grimly and promptly and uncharacteristically jumped the queue.
The librarian, an attractive middle-aged lady, looked up and gave him a questioning smile. She didn’t know Larry by name but had seen him around enough to guess he was on the university staff.
He impatiently pushed over a slip of paper. “The computer catalogue says this book’s in. I’ve checked the shelves, but it’s not there. It looks as if someone has just taken it out. Any idea where it might be?”
The librarian studied the piece of paper. “Just a moment,” she said, and tapped into her computer. She located the book in the records immediately. “It should be on the shelf. It hasn’t been taken out since 1997.”
“Well, it’s not where it should be.”
The librarian’s assistant looked over from the checkout desk. “Excuse me, but I saw it yesterday. Somebody who wasn’t a member of the university tried to take it out. He said he thought he could use the library because he was a delegate at a conference here.” She frowned. “Strictly speaking, he shouldn’t have been allowed in.”
Larry marched over to her, ignoring the queue of waiting students laden with books. “What did he look like?”
She thought for a second. “Sort of dark-haired – maybe Middle Eastern. Strange bright green eyes. Quite unusual.”
“And what happened about the book, exactly?”
The assistant shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing really. I told him he could take out temporary membership, but that we’d have to check out his credentials first.”
“And?” said Larry.
She shrugged her shoulders again. “He said that in that case, he’d just consult it. He’s probably put it back in the wrong place.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure he has,” said Larry under his breath. “Thanks. Thank you very much.” He walked towards the exit, thinking hard. Then, quickening his step, he pushed the exit door open and set off smartly across the campus to the university conference centre.
He strode up to the registration desk, but with the conference well underway, nobody was on duty. He rapped a table impatiently. “Anybody around?” he called. A young girl emerged from an office. “Get me a copy of the delegates list, please,” he demanded.
The girl looked slightly affronted but disappeared back into the office and returned with the list.
“Thanks,” said Larry, already flicking through the pages.
He found the names beginning with ‘N’ and ran his finger down the list. “Dr Neferatu,” he said to himself. “Affiliation – Private. Residence – St Andrew’s Hall.”
He knew St Andrew’s Hall well. It was a new hall of residence on the edge of the campus. He had attended formal dinners there often enough as a guest of the warden, a fellow archaeologist. Like most of the halls of residence, St. Andrew’s Hall was used for accommodating delegates attending various meetings and conferences during the vacations.
“Have you got a plastic bag, please?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied the girl. “You can have an official conference bag.”
“I’ll take a few of these as well if you don’t mind,” he said, and picked up a bundle of leaflets outlining the conference programme. He put them in the bag. “Thanks,” he said, and walked briskly out of the building towards St Andrew’s Hall.
With the students away, the hall was quiet. The porter at the main entrance was halfway up a ladder fixing a light bulb.
“John – do you know which room Dr Neferatu is staying in?” Larry called up to him.
The porter looked down. “Number 24, Professor Burton,” he said. “Strange man that Dr Neferatu. Never turns his lights off.” He unscrewed a light fixing and looked down again. “I don’t think he’s in at the moment. He’s probably at the conference.” He took out the old bulb and looked at it. “He’s leaving tonight as soon as it finishes.”
“I only wanted to return some papers,” said Larry, holding up the bag.
“Just put them on the desk. I’ll see he gets them,” replied the porter, putting the old bulb in his pocket and taking out a new one.
“They’re very important. Can I put them in his room?” asked Larry.
“Hang on a sec,” said the porter, trying unsuccessfully to fit the bulb in.
“Don’t come down. I can see you’re busy,” Larry called up again. “Is there a spare key?”
The porter managed to insert the bulb into the socket and reached for the lamp cover to refit it. “On the hook behind my desk.”
Larry darted behind the desk and grabbed the key. “Thanks – I won’t be long,” he said.
Number 24 was on the ground floor. Larry knocked on the door and waited. There was no answer. He put his ear to the door and listened. He thought he detected a faint noise inside, then realised he was holding a plastic bag full of leaflets and assumed it was those that were rustling.
Inserting the key, he unlocked the door and went to open it. The door didn’t budge. Puzzled, Larry knocked again. He stood there for a full minute, but it was deadly quiet. Checking that nobody was coming down the corridor, he turned the door handle and put his full weight against the door. Again, it wouldn’t open. He stood there, made a decision and steeled himself. Stepping back, he took a deep breath and rammed the door with his shoulder. The door burst open and he fell inside.
The light from the naked bulb in the room was so dazzling that he had to shield his eyes. To his intense relief, there was no sign of Neferatu. He checked the door and saw that a bolt on the inside had ripped away from the wood, but that little damage had been done. Only then did he notice the open window.
Apart from the light and a pile of books on the desk, there was no evidence of Neferatu’s stay in the room. He picked up the books one by one and looked at the titles. He noted ‘Prehistoric Orkney’ by Anna Ritchie and ‘Field Guide to Pictish Symbol Stones’ by Duncan Mack and put them to one side.
The last book in the pile was the one he had been looking for: ‘The Phoenician Origin of Britons, Scots and Anglo-Saxons’ by L A Waddell. He tapped the book lightly, slipped it into the carrier bag and left the room, carefully locking the door behind him.
The porter was behind his desk, the maintenance work completed. Larry thanked him, handed back the key and ambled out of the building.
Finding a bench by the lake in the campus grounds, he settled down to look through the book. After a few minutes, he smiled, closed the book and fished out his phone.
“I’ve found what we’re looking for,” Larry said to Jim. “I just need to check a few more things in the library and then I’ll meet you back at the hotel. Still about six, okay?”
He didn’t notice the large bird eyeing him from the top of the tree behind the seat.
CHAPTER 57
Rebecca checked her messages as she sat by herself in the hotel lounge, waiting for the others. There was a voicemail as well as a text from Syreeta, who said she was worried about her and announced that she was now on her way to Aberdeen, herself. She switched off her phone when she saw Jim arriving back in the hotel, clutching the camcorder.
He caught sight of her and came straight over. “I’ve had your friend Syreeta on the phone,” he said, sitting down. “She’s coming to Aberdeen. Did you know?”
“Did she say what she wanted?”
“I guess she’s concerned about you.”
“Maybe. On the other hand, it could be she’s after my story.”
“She struck me as being genuinely worried about you. And she told me she’s doing the magnetic field story, not
the redheads.”
“Well, if you believe that.”
“You certainly have a decidedly odd side, Rebecca,” he said bluntly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean every time you’re around, weird things start happening. The need to get a story out of all this, whatever it takes. Sometimes it seems as if the story is more important than real people. Don’t you go anywhere without causing trouble?” He looked at her coldly. “Sometimes, you almost frighten me,” he said, lowering his voice.
Rebecca looked at him in amazement at what he had just said. “You think you’re frightened. You were the one who suggested putting me through all that experiment stuff, weren’t you? It was horrible. Try thinking about what I’m going through.”
Then her tone changed. “Anyway, how could it remotely be my fault ‘weird things start happening’? What on earth has it all got to do with me? Maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re just too stuck in your own world to see what’s going on.”
She glared at him again, and then exploded. “Christ! Don’t you realise what I’ve been through? I narrowly escaped being sacrificed – twice. I’ve been haunted and stalked by that evil Neferatu. Not that you believe any of that, of course.”
“I don’t know that anyone in their right mind would believe it,” he countered.
“What about poor Señor Nata? He was real enough, wasn’t he? Or was that all in my imagination as well? That piece of red cord Mr MacGregor found was real enough, wasn’t it? How much more proof do you need?”
“Well, you do seem to have it in for Syreeta a bit. Have you two had a row?”
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed. “Why the sudden interest in Syreeta?”
“No sudden interest. I just think she seems a great girl. And she’s worried about you, as I said.”