Framed!

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Framed! Page 6

by Malcolm Rose


  “That’s all right,” Luke replied. “I owned up – as always.”

  “If you want my advice,” she continued, “you should look into Ed Hoffman.”

  “Oh? Are you saying he clashed with Crispy?”

  Ella shrugged. “No idea. He’s just a nasty piece of work.”

  “Thanks,” Luke replied politely. “Before I go, do you know if any of the school staff are crack archers?”

  Ella was delighted to have the opportunity to gossip for longer. “Mr Bromley’s a flashy show-off, not as good as he likes to think, but still fair. Ms Thacket doesn’t shout about it, but she’s been practising and she definitely knows where the target is. Me. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m useless. Instructor Cadman – he must have taught you biology and the biological bits of criminology – he’s another quiet one. Maybe he’s the one who called you Diamond. I don’t know. Anyway, he doesn’t advertise it but he’s a real top shot. Always out there shooting, always wearing a hat. There are plenty more, I guess.”

  “Rick Glenfield?”

  “No idea. I’ve never seen him have a go, and he keeps himself to himself. His self-esteem took a bit of a battering when they made him caretaker. He doesn’t put himself about much. I don’t think he’s the type.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Outside, a sudden strong wind was stripping bronzed leaves from the elms dotted around the school. There was still no sign of the rains. When the storm clouds finally came, there would be huge relentless downpours.

  As soon as they left the workshop, Luke said to Malc, “I hope you scanned that archery bow in the corner behind her.”

  “Confirmed.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” Malc preferred unambiguous questions.

  Luke spelled it out. “What, if anything, was your conclusion?”

  “I could not scan all of it but the exposed areas had many identical overlapping fingerprints. They matched the fingerprints on the blowtorch.”

  “So, it’s her personal bow,” said Luke, “even though she says she’s no good.” He was undecided about Ella Fitch. She seemed almost too helpful, too pleasant.

  “I have completed the advanced analysis of Ms Kee’s blood and it is consistent with the pathologist’s initial examination of the body.”

  Luke carried on walking towards the school exit as he listened to Malc’s findings.

  “I have now identified most of the toxic proteins and enzymes and compared them with a databank of animal venoms. There is a nearly perfect match with the venom of the eastern diamondback rattlesnake, Crotalus adamanteus. Its poison thins blood, making it so runny that it leaks out of ruptured blood vessels. This explains the blood-filled blotches underneath the skin, bruising, discoloration of skin, bleeding gums and eyes, and the severe swelling on the right forearm, all confirmed by the pathologist. Pathology also notes watery blood pooled in the extremities and lungs. Once the fluid had filled the lungs, paralysis, coma and death would follow rapidly. Probable cause of death is suffocation through internal drowning.”

  “Charming.” Quickly, Luke put up a hand to stop Malc replying. “That’s irony as well.” Then he said, “But she wasn’t bitten by a rattlesnake because she’d only got one puncture wound. A snake would leave two marks. Someone injected it – roughly. Possibly while barging into her like it was an accident.”

  “I cannot determine the quantity of venom but it was considerable. The pathologist estimates that most was injected into forearm tissue, causing local destructive effects such as gangrene. However, some penetrated a blood vessel and circulated rapidly in the blood, attacking the whole body and causing death in less than two hours.”

  “So, she was poisoned this morning, probably on the way to her office. The next question is obvious,” Luke said to himself. “Who’s got access to rattlesnake venom?”

  Malc answered anyway. “The Biology Department has several of these snakes. Yesterday, you saw Shane with one of them. Also, Rick Glenfield had one as a pet in his quarters.”

  Reaching the school entrance, Luke put his new identity card against the security panel and at once the gates opened for him. Outside was the main freeway into Birmingham centre. Electric cabs, controlled by computer, sped past at high speed. Luke swiped his identity card through the freeway reader and said into the microphone, “The animal sanctuary.”

  The next cab slowed at the school gates and Luke climbed into it with Malc. As soon as Luke was seated, the cab accelerated sharply. A line of occasional wind turbines separated the freeway from the parched flatlands of the farm and fed the cab corridor with electrical power. Urged on by the wind, the massive rotating blades gleamed in the sunshine.

  “If someone crashed into Ms Kee so they could jab rattlesnake venom into her arm at the same time, they’ll have left traces when they came into contact. So, what did you find in that scan down her right-hand side?”

  “A microscopic flake of white paint, two blue denim fibres that I cannot enter into case notes because they are so common, one further feline hair, six fine particles of magnesite, a very faint smear of an unknown wax, and a small deposit of sawdust. The specks are too small to allow the wood to be identified.”

  “Magnesite?”

  “Correct.”

  “Isn’t that a white mineral?”

  “Confirmed. It is magnesium carbonate, used to make heat-resistant bricks and non-slip cement for flooring in hospitals and kitchens. It has other uses in the chemical industry such as the manufacture of fertilisers.”

  “Mmm.” Luke wasn’t sure what to make of the finding so he moved on. “What about the paint? Is it new – like you’d get from leaning against wet paint – or is it an old flake?”

  “It is old and brittle.”

  “So, she’d brushed against some peeling paintwork, or someone else did and transferred it to her when they bumped into each other,” Luke reasoned. “Why can’t you identify the wax?”

  “The sample is too small.”

  “Pity.”

  The cab had hardly got up to its cruising speed before it began to slow down. When it pulled up outside the conservation park, Luke and Malc got out. Revelling in his new powers, Luke did not speak into the security panel and wait for a response. He drew his card over the reader to open the gate, walked straight in and made his way to the reception in the old lodge. Inside, the manager of the sanctuary agreed to take Luke to one of the cat enclosures and to answer all of his questions about smuggling. “I’m just pleased that The Authorities are taking this seriously enough to send an investigator at last.” She glanced at Luke and held herself back from adding, “Even if they’ve picked a young and inexperienced one.”

  “You don’t deny that animals go missing, then?”

  “I run a big sanctuary here, Investigator Harding. We take lots of precautions but if someone’s determined to get in, they probably will.”

  To the left, horses cantered across a field. On the other side was a herd of lazy zebras.

  “What gets stolen?”

  She shrugged. “It goes in phases. Flavour of the month is cats.” She pointed ahead to the hut with a large enclosure bounded by wire netting. “Someone cuts the wire to crawl in and take one or two at a time. Cats breed quite well in captivity but whoever’s doing it only goes for the most attractive pedigrees, like blue Persians, Egyptians and Siamese, and we can’t afford those sorts of losses. These breeds are going to die out soon.”

  Beside the hut, there was a cage full of mice nestling together in sawdust. “What are these for?” asked Luke.

  “They’re let loose in the cat sanctuary to provide exercise and food.”

  Feeling sorry for the mice on death row, Luke said, “Any idea who’s behind the smuggling?”

  “We almost caught a boy a week or so back. He ran off in the direction of the school so he’ll be one of yours. About your age as well, I guess. But it was too dark to give you any sort of description. I got in touch with the school, though. I had words with
– who was it? – a Ms Kee, I think. Something like that, anyway.”

  “What did she say?” asked Luke.

  “She said she’d hold an inquiry and catch those responsible.”

  “And what happened?”

  The manager smiled wryly. “Exactly what I expected. Nothing. Till you turned up today.”

  Inside the large enclosure, two tabbies were stretched out on the horizontal trunk of a dead tree. A calico was about to pounce on a leaf and rob the wind of a plaything. Three pure white Persians were eating from the same bowl and a self-satisfied Himalayan sat wrapped in its own luxurious fur coat. Luke had never seen cats in the flesh before. He couldn’t see the attraction. They looked snooty and uninterested in their human visitors.

  Malc scanned the area near a white post where the wire mesh had been cut. Luke knew it would not yield any reliable information, though, because park workers had since repaired the fence and disturbed any evidence.

  On the way back to the lodge, Luke said to the manager, “Do you have any poisonous animals?”

  “Some, yes.”

  “Rattlesnakes?”

  “Yes, we have a lot of rattlers. In the reptile house.”

  “How about eastern diamondback rattlesnakes?”

  The park manager looked at Luke suspiciously. “A couple, yes.”

  “You’ve never had rattlesnakes stolen?”

  “No. That would be an urgent matter for The Authorities.”

  “I suppose you’ve got handlers who’d be able to milk their venom?”

  She looked even more surprised. “Just what are you investigating here?”

  “Answer the question, please.”

  “You don’t get a lot of volunteers for that – and not much need, either. My staff are keepers, not daredevils, but there are two with the necessary training. Arlene Dickinson and Tim Izzard.”

  “Thanks,” Luke replied. “Another time, I might have a chat with them. For now, I’ll work on the missing cats.”

  “I look forward to what you find.” She said it in a resigned tone, as if she never expected to hear from him again.

  Luke opted to walk back to school. He wanted to see how easy it would be to cross unnoticed from the park.

  The path through the potato fields was rough, marked by persistent lines of willowherb weeds. In the distance was the unmistakable figure of Instructor Thacket, taking a run along the walkway that, together with the cab corridor, made up the freeway. Ms Thacket was at the head of a class of students and the athletic ones were running obediently at her heels. The others were spread out behind as cabs flew past them. They were too far away for Luke to see clearly, but he guessed that the stragglers were panting painfully. They would also know there was no hope that their instructor would ease up to let them get their breath back. At this distance, they reminded Luke of mice whose only purpose was the entertainment of a sadistic cat.

  Malc said, “My infrared vision indicates a warm object in the field, one hundred and seventeen metres ahead by the dry-stone wall. It is not detectable by visible light.”

  “What is it?” Luke asked. “Can you tell?”

  “It is moving slightly so it is alive. It is a warm-blooded animal, possibly human.”

  “All right. Silent-mode, Malc. Go and video it.”

  Luke kept walking along the path as his mobile scouted ahead. The field was very nearly flat so Luke had a clear view. In the distance, he could see the main buildings of Birmingham School. To his left and beyond the school were wind turbines. In between there was nothing but crops, genetically modified to cope with long dry periods. Even so, machines were irrigating two areas of the field by spraying great arches of water over the harvest.

  In front of Malc, the head and shoulders of a boy appeared above the potato plants. He looked at Malc and, taking fright, jumped up and dashed towards the school.

  Luke was almost pleased. He had been blessed with strong, long legs and he always relished a run. He took off in pursuit.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ahead, the distinctive boy glanced over his shoulder and saw Luke chasing him. In panic, he left the path and sprinted over the field.

  Further back, but already beginning to close the gap, Luke followed suit. He scattered willowherb seeds from the edge of the path and took to the farmland. Reaching Malc’s position, he said between breaths, “Go after him. Just record. Don’t obstruct him unless he’s getting away from me. But I’ll catch him.”

  It wasn’t an easy running surface. The crop dragged at his feet as if he were running through shallow water. He lifted his legs higher and trampled the plants as he went.

  It seemed to Luke that Travis Myers was struggling even more, staggering and gasping. Luke had recognized him at once. The flaw in his genes made him stand out as the only white student. He was making for the corner of the field where the wall had collapsed, giving access to the school grounds by scrambling over the scattered stones. Keeping to a straight line, Travis went under one arch of irrigation water and almost disappeared in the mist that hung like a net curtain.

  Luke stretched his legs and put on a burst of speed. Soon, he entered the artificial fog himself. With the main jet gushing over his head, every part of him was coated immediately with fine drops of water like dew. His long hair, streaming behind him, suddenly seemed heavy. His trousers soaked up the dampness and stuck to his legs. His foot caught a hidden mound of earth and he stumbled but, arms wheeling like the blades of a wind turbine, he managed to stay upright.

  When he emerged from the curtain, he saw Travis looking back.

  Not concentrating on where he was going, Travis lost his footing and fell. He rolled over twice and then clambered back to his feet.

  Luke smiled. He was within a few metres now. Refreshed by the instant drizzle, he gulped down great mouthfuls of air and put on another spurt. He intended to bring Travis down before he reached the dry-stone wall.

  His face contorted with effort, Travis twisted and glanced back again, losing yet more speed. Unable to outrun Luke, he looked defeated already.

  Luke did not even have to throw himself into a rugby tackle. He grabbed Travis by one arm and brought him to a halt twenty metres short of the illicit entrance to the school. On Luke’s right, Malc hovered, recording the whole incident.

  “It’s over, Travis,” he said. “Don’t try anything else and make matters worse.”

  Travis could not reply right away. He put his hands on his hips and bent forward, heaving. He was exhausted and drenched.

  “What was that all about?” asked Luke.

  When Travis had got his breath back and straightened up, he said, “You’re not going to arrest me, are you?”

  “Are you going to give me a reason for arresting you?”

  Travis shook his head.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “I was supposed to be on a run with Ms Thacket. But...” He took some more breaths. “I’m not very good at it. It’s torture.”

  “Yeah. I saw that,” Luke replied. “You were hiding from her.”

  “And Ed Hoffman. They don’t make it easy for someone like me.”

  Luke nodded knowingly. “Are you sure you weren’t going to the animal sanctuary? Or coming back from it?”

  “No. I was going to join the back of the run when they came back round again. Honest.”

  Luke walked completely around him, looking in particular at his pockets. “You’re not carrying wire cutters?”

  Puzzled, Travis frowned. “No.” He patted his empty pockets.

  “And you’ve not been near the park’s cats?”

  “Cats? No.”

  Luke looked at Malc and said, “Scan him for cat hairs.”

  “Already completed. None detected.”

  “Okay.” With a grin, Luke said, “Tell me, Malc. Is avoidance of cross-country running against the law?”

  “No.”

  “So, we don’t have grounds for arresting him?”

  “No.”<
br />
  “All right, Travis,” Luke said. “You can go. Why don’t you take up position over there?” He pointed to the edge of the field where it bordered the walkway. “You can join your group when they come past again. You’ll get away with it because they’ll think you’re covered in sweat.”

  “You won’t say anything?”

  “No.”

  An expression of relief and gratitude appeared on Travis’s face. “Oh, thank you.”

  Luke smiled at him. “Your trick didn’t really work, though. You didn’t get much of a rest. Better luck next time.”

  ****

  There was evidence of cats at Ms Kee’s home. Every bit of wooden furniture was beautifully polished but two of the legs of her kitchen table were scratched. “Take a look at those marks, Malc. Are they something a cat would do?”

  “That is probable. They are consistent with scratches made by cats when they sharpen their claws.”

  The whole place had been kept thoroughly clean, presumably to cover up any evidence of cats, but no amount of housekeeping could remove every single hair. It didn’t take Luke and Malc long to find seven more. It took them longer to discover her store of food for the cats. In the kitchen, Luke noticed that one floor tile was slightly lower than the rest. Pulling it up, he found a hidden store of food underneath the floorboards.

  “Even without finding a single cat,” said Luke, at the end of the search, “we’ve got more than enough to put her at the heart of a smuggling operation. But who brought the cats to her?”

  “Insufficient data.”

  “I’ll tell you something else we haven’t got. Flaking paint. This place is immaculate.” Luke turned to Malc and said, “By now, you’ll have scanned me. Do I have even one tiny cat hair on me?”

  “No.”

  “Sawdust, paint flakes or wax? Or magnesium carbonate?”

  “No.”

 

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