DOMINIC PEERED through the closed blinds into the dimly lit courtyard below. What he was looking for he had no idea. But knowing he had been bugged left him acutely paranoid. Finally, he left the window and joined Miles at his desk. Together they examined the security-camera photographs for several minutes in silence. Miles carefully placed them back on the envelope lying on the desk.
“Fascinating. And you say it’s Simon’s reflection in the mirror? Well, I’m sure from what you say about his character that he’s not blackmailing anyone with these. Perhaps they were planted on him.”
He took off his glasses and looked across at Gemma. “You say he’s a student journalist? It’s very clear, then. He’s gathering evidence. But of what? I wonder where those photos were taken? It looks very grand. Oak paneled. Tudor with bizarre hints of Gothic. Someone with a lot of money likes a steamy time.”
Gemma opened the laptop screen again. “John and I went through the list of names and checked out their images on the Internet. We can see only two of them in the photos. But they’re big names.”
She shuffled through the photos and picked one out.
“Look here. In the top right corner of the picture. We’re confident that he’s Professor Heinz Müller, director of genetic research for Barton Kane.”
Gemma picked out a second photograph and turned it to Miles. “And here, on the edge of frame. Not quite so clear because he’s in profile. It’s Michael Kerrington MP, junior minister at the Department for Health.”
Miles replaced his reading glasses and peered at the photograph. “Good God, what on earth is he doing in a gathering like that? He’s married. So much to lose.” Miles studied the two photographs. “This is interesting. Neither of our big names is actually taking part in the sexual jollity. You might question why they were there. But on the basis of these photographs, you couldn’t allege anything about their behavior.”
Gemma turned the laptop screen around and showed Miles and Dominic a page of close typed text.
“John’s been doing a bit of research into Professor Müller from Barton Kane. Müller’s been writing papers on genetic manipulation techniques for several years. He researches the techniques behind chemical therapies that could treat identifiable genetic failures.”
Dominic’s knowledge of medical science was slight, but he was uncomfortable with what Gemma was describing. “Isn’t that eugenics, by any other name?”
Miles raised an eyebrow at him. “Dominic, I’m surprised at you. Eugenics is about controlled breeding. It leads ultimately to a dull but pure master race. Gene therapy has the potential to treat diseases. Parkinson’s disease, Huntington’s disease, cancer. It’s an extremely promising area of research for drug companies. And the ones that succeed stand to make millions.”
Gemma flicked through a couple of pages on the laptop screen and highlighted a section. “Well, Mr. Torrington, some people might disagree with you on that. Professor Müller works on what’s called germ line gene therapy. John gets really excited about it because he says it’s got the potential to permanently treat a disease. But it’s banned in a few countries because the therapy can permanently modify genes for subsequent generations. In fact its opponents call it a form of eugenics.”
Dominic shook his head. “And yet, knowing this, young John is happy to recruit people like Simon to Barton Kane’s drug trials?”
Gemma’s eyes flashed as she stood to face Dominic. “Yes, he is. And so am I. Without these kinds of drug trials, we’d have no progress in medicine. People are surviving cancer for longer. We’re close to having a treatment for cystic fibrosis. Would you like all that to stand still so you can comfort yourself with casting the drug companies as the fat cat bogeymen?”
Miles roared with laughter. “I think this young lady has got the measure of your fine principles, Dominic. Beware your high horse. She seems to have thought about the subject. Her friend John has been researching it. And young Simon too. Besides, a company the size of Barton Kane will have many drug trials operating at any one time. I presume that the chances of the students Simon recruited for them actually being involved in testing genetic therapies are pretty small?”
“Oh no, it’s entirely possible, Mr. Torrington,” replied Gemma. “But the trials would be strictly controlled by the Gene Therapy Advisory Committee. John’s very confident that Barton Kane would only release a drug for human trials once they’d thoroughly tested it in the lab.”
Dominic’s cell rang. Jonathan’s name flashed up on the screen, and he answered the call. “Before you say too much, Jonathan, it seems like someone is spying on us. We can’t trust my cell, or yours for that matter.”
“Well, lover, I seem to have found a friend who could help us with that. I’ll tell you more later. I’m getting into London at Victoria station in just over an hour. Will you be finished in Lincoln’s Inn in time to come and meet me?”
Dominic was taken aback by the question. He knew for certain that he had not had time to tell Jonathan about his plans to meet Miles that afternoon.
“How did you know I was here? Did Gillian tell you?”
“No, and after what you’ve just told me about your cell, I won’t explain any more just now. So are you meeting me or not?”
With everything that had been going on, Dominic had forgotten Jonathan was traveling up for the dinner at Chequers that evening. Dominic had been looking forward to the event. But the discovery of the bugged glasses and the encounter with Inspector Scott had unnerved him. At this point a quiet night in with a glass of wine seemed much more appealing.
Dominic sighed. “Let’s meet at Marylebone Station for the five o’clock train. That gets us back to my apartment with plenty of time to change and be ready for the car that’s picking us up at seven to take us to Chequers.”
“A car?” Jonathan said. “Excellent. That means we can both get blind drunk. See you later, lover. Bye.”
Dominic had a sudden vision of being thrown out of the prime minister’s country residence as a result of Jonathan being let loose on the champagne.
“Chequers, did you say?” Miles picked up one of the photographs and waved it at Dominic. “You do know that the interior of Chequers is oak paneled? Tudor, possibly? Is it too ridiculous a thought to consider that these shenanigans might have taken place there?”
Dominic was speechless for a moment. It seemed absurd that one of the most secure government buildings in the country could have been the scene of a male orgy. But after all that had happened, anything was possible.
“Miles, I will find out later tonight, and you’ll be the first to know. Meanwhile, can Gemma leave this evidence in your safekeeping?”
“Of course. I’ll get Harrison to load the contents of the laptop onto our secure server so you can look at the files remotely.” Miles quickly wrote logins and passwords on two pieces of paper and handed them to Dominic and Gemma.
“I’ll get my intern to go through the files with a fine-tooth comb. She did her first degree in mathematics. She got bored with that and has now decided to study for the bar. Amazing person. Brain the size of a planet. I’m sure she’ll come up with some interesting stuff.”
He turned to Gemma. “You get back to Simon as quickly as you can. Let’s hope he continues to improve and that you can speak to him soon. We need to know what he was doing with those photographs and that list of names. The problem is, so do a lot of other people. People with very sinister motives.”
Chapter 21
JONATHAN WAS waiting by the coffee stand when Dominic got to the top of the escalators at Marylebone Station. To Dominic’s embarrassment, he rushed over and embraced him at the ticket gates.
“Lover, I am so pleased to see you! There’s so much to tell!”
“What’s he doing here?” hissed Dominic in Jonathan’s ear. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Steve grinning broadly. There was a small pile of bags at his feet.
“Oh, he’s going to be the key to solving our little adventure,” J
onathan said. “I just know it. Turns out he’s an expert in espionage. He’s like Q out of James Bond, only far better looking. It was Steve who showed me you were in Lincoln’s Inn. He tracked your cell phone on his laptop. Very accurate it is too. He can also set up surveillance cameras, hack into computers—all that clever stuff. He’s coming back with us to check out your apartment and car for bugs or cameras. Given everything that’s been happening, I just knew you wouldn’t mind.”
Dominic had already guessed that Jonathan was smitten with Steve. He had suspected it from the moment they met John and Steve in the Bulldog pub two nights ago. It had never been easy for Dominic to accept the way Jonathan got distracted by younger men. He found it hard to suppress his instinctive jealousy whenever Jonathan casually described a one-night encounter. Dominic knew that many successful gay partnerships lasted for twenty years or more precisely because they were open relationships. “Sex and love are not the same thing, lover,” Jonathan had told him on more than one occasion. “I love you to the end of the world, but we must be free to have other sexual experiences from time to time. It can only make our own relationship stronger.”
In the two years they had been together, Dominic had grown to accept what Jonathan described as “open monogamy.” He had even experimented with occasional one-night stands himself. But his natural reserve, coupled with his childhood memories of Sunday school and threatening sermons from the vicar had left him feeling awkward and strangely guilty.
It was a constant anxiety he had been unable to shrug off in the two years he had been with Jonathan. He tried to push it to the back of his mind and concentrate on the practicalities of what they had to do. He was not going to solve the mysteries of his relationship with Jonathan just now.
“I suppose after what happened at Miles’s law offices today it would be useful if someone who actually knows what they’re doing checked the apartment for bugs.” Dominic began to explain the events of the afternoon. He took out the scanning device Harrison had given him earlier and showed it to Steve.
Steve examined it, then handed it back. “Hmm, it’s all well and good, but it only finds devices that are already operational. I’ve got a few other toys here that should find dormant devices waiting to be activated.”
Jonathan looked triumphantly at Dominic. “There you are. I told you he was essential. And wait until you see his cell phone tracking thingy. It’s so clever. That’s settled, then. Steve can check the apartment for bugs and look through the files from Simon Gregory’s computer while we’re hobnobbing with the great and the good at Chequers.”
At that moment their train was announced, and the three men headed for the ticket barriers.
GEMMA SENT John a text as she left the law offices in Lincoln’s Inn. She wanted to find out if there was any news on Simon’s condition. As she made her way to Holborn Station along Kingsway, she kept glancing behind. There was no sign of Inspector Scott or of anyone else tailing her as far as she could see.
She queued with hundreds of other commuters to go through the ticket barriers, then realized that in her haste she had forgotten to buy a ticket. Turning around she collided with a woman wearing a black coat with a fur-lined collar, standing close behind her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, but the woman said nothing, looked away, and stepped to one side. After Gemma had bought her ticket, she walked through the barriers and took the long escalator leading down to the Central Line. She paused to catch her breath and turned to see the woman in the black coat hurrying down the stairs alongside the escalator.
Pushing her way along the platform Gemma found a clearing in the crowds and stood waiting for the train. She took the rucksack off her back and placed it at her feet. Although it no longer contained the laptop, it still held a few valuables and Gemma wanted to keep a close eye on it in the crowds.
A stale, warm headwind of air announced the approaching subway train. Gemma reached down for the rucksack in readiness to board the train. But the bag had disappeared. She bent to look on the platform around her feet, but there was no sign of the battered black rucksack.
The roar of the train filled her ears and people shuffled around her into what they hoped would be the optimum position to board first.
The train was just twenty feet away when Gemma felt a sharp push in the small of her back. Her hands reached out in a futile attempt to stop herself from falling. The train’s brakes screeched, a woman screamed, and a man’s hand clawed in vain at Gemma’s coat, trying to save her as she fell beneath the wheels.
JOHN STOOD with Samantha outside Simon’s room. She told him what Simon had said about the envelope.
“He said to tell you that it’s under his bed. It’s clearly very important to him. Can you go and bring it back here? Simon might have woken up again by the time you get back, and we can look at it together.”
John explained how Gemma had already taken the envelope to London. How he had tried to call Gemma about it, but his cell phone was dead and needed recharging. Samantha looked irritated.
“So you already knew about the envelope. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Now was not the time for Samantha Gregory to know about the photographs they had found in the envelope, John decided. It would only upset her, and as yet, John had no good explanation to offer her.
“Can I sit with Simon for a while?” he asked her. “Perhaps he might wake again soon. I need to ask him some questions to help Gemma and Mr. Delingpole make sense of all this.”
Samantha looked at him but said nothing. After what felt like an age, his eyes began to cloud with tears, and he looked away.
“Please, Mrs. Gregory. I can’t go back to the house alone again. Not just yet.”
Samantha took John’s hand in hers and gently squeezed it. “You really do love him, don’t you? There’s so much I don’t know about Simon. Perhaps you can help me to reach him again.”
She opened the door of Simon’s room and ushered John in. As their chairs scraped on the tiled floor, Simon stirred, and his eyes flickered open.
“John? Is that you?”
John leaned across the bed and held Simon’s hand gently. “Yes, it’s me. Your mum’s let me sit with you for a while. How are you feeling?”
“I don’t really feel anything. I can’t remember how I got here. I’m just incredibly sleepy….” His voice tailed off, and his eyes slowly closed.
John leaned close to Simon’s ear and whispered, “I love you so much. Don’t leave me now.”
Simon’s eyes flickered open again. “You’re soft in the head, you are. Falling for an idiot like me. I thought I was the big investigative journalist. But it seems I’ve made a bit of a mess of everything.” He squeezed John’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re here. You can help me sort it out now. Did Mum tell you about the envelope?”
John nodded. “We’ve seen the photographs and worked out who a few of the people are. What on earth were you doing at something like that?”
Simon slowly turned his head from side to side on the pillow. “It’s not the photographs. They’re not important. I was just keeping them as a bit of insurance. It’s the envelope itself. You’ve got to look inside. At the bottom. Hidden away. There’s a data card taped deep inside it. Look for the data card. It’s got the transactions. They’re the real evidence.” Simon’s eyes closed and he drifted back to sleep.
DOMINIC PEERED over Steve’s shoulder to try to see the monitor screen he was holding. Steve pointed it at different parts of Dominic’s living room; Dominic could just see some kind of calibration grid on the small screen. Two small red dots pulsed, and a map representing the layout of his room appeared.
Jonathan appeared at his side.
“It’s jolly clever, isn’t it, dear thing? As I said at Marylebone Station, Steve is our Q to your double o seven. You just need a martini in your hand and the illusion is complete.”
Steve set the monitor down on the coffee table and walked over to the mirror above the fireplace.
Jonathan and Dominic carefully lifted the large mirror off its hangings and rested it on the carpet. The thin black package attached to its back was immediately visible.
“Clever,” Steve remarked. “Microphone and wide-angle lens of the room. Movement and sound activated. Transmits to the phone line by the looks of it.” He picked up the telephone base unit, which sat on the bookshelf to the side of the fireplace. “Yes, here’s the receiver. There’ll be other devices in the apartment, all sending to this. Neat.”
Dominic thought it was anything but neat. He felt violated. He watched as Steve moved to the window and reached up to the pelmet above the curtain. A moment later Steve removed another thin black package, similar to the one he’d found on the back of the mirror.
“That’s this room clear. I’ll start on the kitchen now.” Steve picked up his monitoring equipment and left the room.
Dominic sat down on the settee and turned to Jonathan. “Do you know how horrible this feels? A few days ago, this was my home. My sanctuary from the world. Now it feels like a goldfish bowl. And what if they’ve done your cottage as well? We’re not private anywhere all of a sudden.”
Jonathan sat on the settee beside Dominic and put an arm around his shoulders. “Steve’s already checked out the cottage, and it’s clear. He’s also rigged an alarm so we’ll know if anyone tries to break in. He’ll do the same here. Come on, lover. Give me a hug. Then let’s get ready for our big night out. Life must keep going as normal. Now,” he paused and looked mischievously at Dominic. “I’ve brought my dress kilt especially for tonight. As it’s the prime minister’s country residence, should I wear anything underneath? Or can I let the breeze blow free?”
Chapter 22
JONATHAN DECIDED he looked particularly glamorous in his blue-and-green tartan dress kilt. He poured two glasses of prosecco and waited for his partner to be ready. Earlier, Dominic had announced that he refused go into the bathroom until Steve could confirm it was clear of bugging devices. Jonathan had no concerns about being seen naked on a hidden camera. He jumped into the shower first, while Steve scanned the room for bugs. As he stood toweling himself dry, Jonathan teasingly called Dominic to join him and explore the exhibitionist side of his personality. Dominic declined the invitation.
The Necessary Deaths Page 13