by SE Moorhead
After Elise died, my mother couldn’t go on. The authorities believed that man’s lies and it was recorded as an accidental death, although my mother was under suspicion of neglect.
She never recovered.
When I was ten years old, my mother took her own life. And everything I had ever loved was gone. But part of me still blames her too.
It was a shame what happened to Martin Coombes; after all, he was one of the very few adults who had ever been kind to me. His last act of kindness was to give me his bio-chip.
Well, I took it.
But it was Martin who gave me the chance to get revenge.
And I grabbed that chance with both hands.
Chapter Twenty-One
SUNDAY 4 FEBRUARY 2035
10.47 a.m.
Tom looked exhausted as he scrolled down the screen at his desk. Reading his body language, Kyra surmised he wasn’t in the right mood, but they were running out of time. Now that she had made her mind up, she didn’t want to wait too long before she went through with it.
She braced herself. ‘Tom.’
‘Hmm?’
‘I’ve got an idea that might help. It’s totally unorthodox, and I’m not one hundred per cent certain how successful it might be, but …’ She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
He glanced up at her but she could tell he was distracted.
‘After I left the Behavioural Science department – I don’t know if you know – I went on to focus purely on Neuropathy. I changed from looking at links between criminal behaviour and psychology to looking at the possibility that there were neurological reasons for criminal behaviour; actual physical problems in the brain that could somehow be diagnosed.’
‘Sick of mopping up the mess so you went into prevention instead?’ he said, looking back down at his screen briefly.
He got it. She was reminded of one of the slogans from the institute where she had conducted most of her research: If we can predict … we can prevent!
‘Exactly.’
She sat down on the other side of his desk and he faced her properly now.
‘Is that how you ended up in CarterTech?’ Was he interested or just humouring her?
‘Yes, I needed the sort of money Carter had to turn the research into reality.’ She wasn’t exactly proud of that.
He rubbed his earlobe. She could tell he was itching to study his report, but she pressed on. ‘I discovered that it is possible to retrieve memories from the brain’s cortex – whole, unabridged, accurate. I developed a technology that can do this.’
He didn’t react. Had he heard what she’d said?
‘I want to use it on Lomax.’
She swallowed hard, wondering what he was going to make of this, to what degree she was going to have to fight her corner.
He sat back in his chair. ‘Go on …’
‘Using equipment that I’ve developed, it’s possible to read these memories directly from another person’s brain.’
‘But how?’
‘We inject tiny receptors and transmitters into the bloodstream of the reader and the subject and they travel to the brain. They pick up memories, like picking up radio waves, I suppose, and send them through a computer programme which translates them and relays them into a VR headset. That’s a very simplistic way of describing it, but you have to believe me. I can do this and I think we should try to persuade Lomax that we should use the kit on him.’
Come on, Tom. Back me on this one. Say yes!
He took his time as if he was trying to slow down what she’d said, replay it in his head, and understand. ‘You’re telling me that we can look at Lomax’s memories, find out if he killed Caylee or not?’
She saw a mixture of disbelief, curiosity and intrigue.
Then she saw the police officer kick in.
‘We could find out if he killed the original victims for certain?’
‘I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like a video history, I can’t just rewind his life and see everything, but I might see something that helps; incriminates him or suggests that he didn’t do it. At least we’d know.’
‘Can I do this? Can I see into his memories?’ He was restrained, but she could tell he was interested. His arms twitched as he leaned forwards slightly.
There was no way she could let him do that. What if he started picking up residual memories, as Jimmy had put it, or phantoms as she called them now because they were so real it was like seeing ghosts, like the desert boy in the toilet at the Hub, and realised that the kit wasn’t as ready as it should be?
‘There’s not enough time to train you on the equipment. If we’re going to do this, if you give me your permission, then we need to do it as soon as possible so that we don’t waste time barking up the wrong tree. You can trust me. I’ll relay everything I see.’
‘Is there any way of, I don’t know, recording what you see in his mind, or projecting it so that we can use it as evidence.’
‘Tom, let’s get this straight, you’re never going to be able to use this stuff in court. It won’t be evidence you can prosecute with.’ She started to panic. Couldn’t they keep this to themselves? No one needed to find out, did they? Not Carter, not the other officers, not the MOD. Why was he taking so long to agree?
She waited for a moment. Then, ‘So, what do you say?’
‘I’m trying to get my head around it, Kyra, that’s all.’
She thought back to what Jimmy had said about a witness X. Maybe they could use the information they gleaned from the CASNDRA – the machine itself would be witness X, protected by anonymity. The MOD would never find out that way.
‘The point is that I get first-hand access to Lomax’s memories. I get to see where he’s been, what he’s been doing. We need to find Isabel, and soon.’
He nodded slightly and she took it as encouragement.
‘If I see anything that leads us to believe that he did it …’ She looked down at her hands, ‘then at least we can put this to bed once and for all, knowing that we got the right man. If I can’t find evidence of Lomax committing these murders, then I might be able to find new lines of enquiry – things that show us where to go next.’
She studied his face as he mulled this over and then said, ‘If he killed Caylee, then Lomax won’t agree to it. ‘
‘That in itself might suggest he’s guilty,’ she replied. ‘But if he is innocent then he will let us try, and we might see something that gives us an idea of what is going on.’
Tom reached up and rubbed his scar.
‘Can we use it on him even if he won’t agree to it?’
This was what she had been trying to avoid with the MOD. Brain-hacking. But if a woman’s life was at stake … would she be able to overcome her dilemma?
‘If it’s an accomplice, he’ll kill Isabel in three days’ time. If it’s Lomax, she’ll starve to death. We have to act. Let’s use the tech on Lomax. Please, trust me.’
Tom stood up. ‘Right … I’ll call the governor of Rockwell straight away, see if we can get permission.’
Just over an hour later, Tom and Kyra sat opposite the governor and Lomax, close together in a room almost too small for four people, a desk and two chairs. The fluorescent strip light hummed constantly and flickered intermittently. The window was a yellowing opaque Plexiglass square, high up on one of the grey walls. Lomax smelled of coffee and sweat. Kyra held her breath.
‘You’re agreeing to this?’ Lomax asked, stunned, and Governor Bennett gave a brief, insincere smile.
‘What’s in it for you?’ Lomax asked her.
‘She has her reasons,’ Tom said.
‘I bet she does,’ Lomax sneered at Bennett. ‘Don’t look too good on the little lady that I was out and about, does it?’ There was still the hostility, the bravado, but underneath was also frustration, or was it confusion?
‘I’ve always run Rockwell as a centre of excellence, with cutting-edge treatments and putting my prisoners’ welfare at the top of my p
riorities.’ the governor said primly. ‘This can only add to our list of firsts.’
‘Trying to compensate for the fuck up of my escape, you mean,’ Lomax said with a sneer.
‘Watch yourself, Lomax,’ the governor barked. ‘Your chip shows clearly that you were down at the Scrambles during your little trip out.’
‘I didn’t deny it – I was only getting a bit of pussy …’
‘I don’t tolerate language of that nature!’ barked the governor, but Tom cut her off.
‘We need to find the real killer. I want to prove you didn’t do it, Lomax.’
He eyed Tom suspiciously. ‘What is it, then, some kind of lie-detector machine?’ He sounded curious now.
‘Sort of,’ Kyra said. ‘I’m going to read your memories,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘I want to find anything that might help in our investigation.’
His expression changed back to suspicion and he turned to Tom.
‘What if you see something else that incriminates me in another crime?’
‘We’re not interested in anything other than the Mizpah Murders.’
‘Yeah, you say that now …’ he sat back and crossed his arms, the table shifted slightly across the floor as he knocked it. ‘But what if I don’t want to let you look inside my brain?’ he sneered and Kyra felt the bees in her chest beginning to mobilise.
Governor Bennett pulled rank. ‘I’ve left documentation approving your transfer to Stoker’s Keep. If you don’t agree, then I’ll make sure you rot there, a task I shall relish.’ The gleam in her eyes verified the fact.
Lomax’s face fell. ‘You’ve got some fucking nerve, Bennett,’ he spat.
She gave a wry smile. ‘You won’t be top dog, there, Lomax. There’ll be no hot showers, privilege, screens or any of the little luxuries we provide here at Rockwell. It will be purely work and punishment, twenty-four seven. And who knows what fun the other inmates have planned for you?’
His shoulders dropped.
‘Do you know the regime at Stoker’s Keep, Doctor Sullivan?’ the governor asked, flicking a non-existent piece of fluff from her tweed suit. ‘It’s notorious amongst the inmates. Not many people come out and, if they do,’ she said, turning a steady eye on Lomax, ‘they’re a shadow of their former selves.’
‘You’re telling us one thing,’ Kyra said, ignoring Bennett and focusing on Lomax. ‘but the evidence is telling us something else. At the moment, with your DNA on the latest body …’ she let that one hang. Lomax’s eyes darkened.
‘On the other hand, if we can prove that this wasn’t your kill,’ the word nearly stuck in her throat as she pushed away an image of Emma – she had to convince him. ‘I can prove you’re innocent and then we can set about looking for the person who really did this.’
Could he tell she was lying? Would he be able to look into her eyes and see that the real reason she was doing this was to find the truth, see who killed her sister? Would he know that she didn’t care one jot about what happened to the brute in front of her?
Lomax leaned into her, seemed almost to be sniffing the air around her as he weighed this up.
‘So, what’s it going to be, Lomax?’ Tom demanded.
Kyra held her breath.
‘Don’t look like I’ve got much choice, does it?’ Lomax rolled his eyes.
Tom remained poker-faced.
‘I thought as much,’ said Governor Bennett.
Did this mean he was innocent, or did he think he could beat the tech?
‘You let us read your memories,’ Kyra said flatly, ‘We can get you out of here.’
‘Win, win, all round I’d say, Tommy boy.’
Kyra relaxed a little.
‘When am I gonna use this little lie-detector of yours, doc?’
Tom looked to the governor.
‘I’ve given my permission for Danielsson and another guard to take you to the lab this evening at nine o’clock.’
‘Out and about under cover of darkness, eh?’ Lomax grinned. ‘You paying Danielsson double-time from your own pocket, Governor?’
She didn’t answer.
‘It’s a shame you didn’t come up with this invention of yours fourteen years ago when they banged me up in here,’ he snarled at Kyra.
Tom interrupted. ‘And you can keep your mouth shut about it. Or the deal’s off and you’re going to Stoker’s Keep.’
Lomax rolled his eyes again.
‘You know,’ he began, looking at Tom and then back at Kyra, ‘if you find out that I’m innocent and I get out … regardless of the fact you helped … you put me in here in the first place … so I’m still gonna come for you.’
Bennett jumped up and called in two of the guards. ‘Get him out of here,’ she roared and the guards pulled him off the chair and dragged him towards the door. He turned around and gave Kyra one last grisly smile.
‘See you around, Doc.’
The thought suddenly occurred to Kyra:
It will be down to me if Lomax gets out or not.
And the sudden weight of responsibility was crushing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
SUNDAY 4 FEBRUARY 2035
9.08 p.m.
‘Are you sure you don’t want a coffee?’ Tom held up his own cup. ‘It’s getting late – caffeine might help?’
He was only trying to distract her, Kyra knew that, with idle chat and gossip about the officers they had worked with back in the day, but she could tell he was nervous too, though for different reasons. How could he possibly understand the risk she was about to undertake?
She took a few deep breaths and said, ‘I usually puke if I eat or drink anything beforehand.’ She could see Jimmy in the lab; he hadn’t spoken to her since he’d arrived. But at least he was here.
‘What’s that about? Mind-travel sickness?’ asked Tom.
‘Sort of.’ She couldn’t manage a smile. ‘Do you think he’ll be handcuffed?’
‘I won’t let him near you.’
‘God knows what I’m going to see in there.’
Tom studied the sculpture of the brain on the reception desk and ran his finger over one of the lines. ‘What’s it like, going into someone else’s head?’
‘Like watching home movies. That’s the only way I can describe it; flashes of different images and sometimes words come to my mind, or feelings that aren’t mine overwhelm me. Unlike the movies, I sort of … experience things … I can even smell things at times.’ Her stomach was churning with anxiety.
‘Can you feel sensations? Does it hurt?’ he asked, curious.
‘No, not physically. Although once I went into Jimmy’s head and he had had rather a lot to drink the night before and I caught his hangover. Believe me, I felt that!’
‘Really?’ Tom sounded amazed.
‘Yeah, it was … weird.’ She tried to manage a smile, but it must have looked more like a grimace. ‘Not fair, really, all of the hangover, none of the beer.’ She thought about the other side-effects she was suffering these days. They were getting more intense.
She heard a noise outside. Oh God, was this it?
She was glad Jimmy was there, but she wished he’d talk to her. Didn’t she need her friends at a time like this? She saw CASNDRA’s bed move out, the lights turn from red to green.
‘I can’t guarantee any useful information,’ she told Tom. ‘It’s like I said, I don’t know how much control he’ll have over his memories. When I work with Jimmy I ask him to focus on something specific and that’s usually what I see. I suppose to some degree it depends on what Lomax wants to show me. I’m not sure yet whether someone can withhold memories or not. We haven’t tested for that.’
‘No worries, just give it a go,’ Tom said.
Give it a go, like it was a fairground game.
‘I think the best tack to take is if you ask Lomax a few questions before we go down, try to tune him in to what we’re looking for.’ She paused. ‘Tom, say this doesn’t work, then what are we going to do next? How are
we going to solve this? Is there anyone else we can use the tech on?’ She thought briefly of Ray Clarke.
‘You haven’t even tried yet. Don’t lose your bottle now.’ There was an edge to his voice.
That was definitely a car outside. Her chest tightened, the buzzing began.
‘Seriously, you don’t have to do this, you know.’ His words were steady, but she saw the desperation in his eyes.
‘Of course I do!’ she snapped. ‘There’s a young woman out there somewhere who could die, who will die, any day now, if I don’t at least try this! It’s on me!’
‘You’re not responsible for her,’ he said slowly. ‘I am.’
‘Tom, no. We were all on the team together back then …’
There was a quiet knock on the door, and her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. She wanted to run. She wiped her palms on her thighs.
Oh God, I actually have to be Lomax … see the things he did … or might have done.
Her fingers fumbled with the familiar lock. She was aware of Tom’s eyes on her as she braced herself for Lomax to barge in, but Danielsson led the way. Out of uniform, he looked less like a guard, more like a gangster, or even a Viking, Kyra thought, now that she could see his blonde hair without his cap. He stood over 190cm, his shoulders wide and strong, much bigger than Lomax. He wore all black, an expensive leather jacket. How could a guard afford such an item? Maybe the governor had paid him off, after all.
Lomax shuffled in behind him, cuffs and links on his wrists and ankles, like an old-school criminal on a chain gang. He was followed by another guard, a small black woman, her muscles neat and taut underneath her tight-fitting dark jacket and trousers. Kyra greeted her, but she only had eyes for Lomax – eyes with yellow flecks in the brown irises. Kyra suspected they were smart lenses, with nano-cameras. Whatever she was seeing would be relayed back to the governor at the prison.
‘Told you I’d see you around, Doc. Nice gaff you’ve got here,’ Lomax said, as though he’d just arrived at a party.