by Lee Swift
“Dr. Wilson, I know the difference between a theory and a hypothesis,” she snapped back. “But isn’t it possible that the copycat Ripper, who is a deranged psychopath, has latched onto your hypothesis about a secret super-race to justify his killing spree?”
“There is absolutely no connection between any of my work and the tragic deaths of Nancy Black and Gail Simmons. No connection at all.”
“Even though that is what the killer said in the letter. I quote yet again, ‘I admire your work, Wilson.’ Here is a peer of yours, Doctor. This is Dr. Wendell Cook, a former Chair of Genetics in the Department of Biochemistry at Keble College of the University of Oxford. Listen to what he told us.”
Wilson hadn’t seen Wendell in some time. He barely recognized the man’s image on the screen: bald, wrinkled, and three stones heavier than when they’d parted ways.
“Thomas returned from Guatemala a changed man,” Wendell said. “I cannot imagine what he went through witnessing the murders of his team members. It was then he became obsessed with his secret subspecies and with his idea about hyper-hibernation. No matter what any of his friends said to him, he would not give it up. Thomas could have been one of the top minds in our field if he had never gone on that disastrous expedition in ’73.”
Ms. White glared. “Dr. Cook called you obsessed, do you care to comment?”
“No.”
“He said you returned from Guatemala a changed man.” Ms. White looked down at the pages in her hand. “You came back from that expedition claiming soldiers had entered the team’s camp and gunned everyone down, leaving only you alive and well. You also state that you got away because these soldiers did not see you. You assert that they destroyed your research and every scrap of evidence that would corroborate your story. Please tell us how you escaped such a volatile country, Doctor?”
“I nearly didn’t, Ms. White.” He didn’t dare tell her about the four days it had taken him to get to the Mexican border. Sheer will and dumb luck had saved his life.
“You were under investigation for several years concerning that expedition, were you not?”
“I was never considered a suspect.”
“Perhaps you should have been, sir. Seven people died in Guatemala, and you are the sole survivor, the sole witness. Two women died in London, and you alone received a letter from the alleged killer. Can you explain how those two things are not related?”
“Call Commissioner Poole, Ms. White. I have cooperated fully with his investigation.”
“And you are not a suspect, once again. Are you aware of the latest Ripper murder of a young woman whose body was just discovered at ten this morning?”
“I am not.”
“Ms. Molly Baker, a university student about to graduate and marry her longtime sweetheart. She is the third victim of the copycat Ripper, Dr. Wilson.”
“I was not aware of Ms. Baker. My thoughts and prayers will be with her family.” He took off the microphone and stood. “I thought you were interested in the truth, Ms. White, but I see you are only interested in sensationalism. We are done.”
CHAPTER 32
1:45 PM
Austin stepped into the room with Remington. They approached Angelique together.
“You were right, Angelique,” his friend said. “He is your brother.”
She ran to Austin, giving him a hug. “I told this thick-headed husband of mine it was you but he didn’t listen. Are you okay?”
He smiled. “Now that I know you’re safe, I’m fine.”
Michael asked, “When was the last time you ate, McCord?”
“Over ten years ago, though it feels like yesterday to me. I remember what it was. A tasty MRE.”
“Since we didn’t have any other food at the time, we thought they were delicious.”
He grinned. “Delicious? That might be pushing it, Professor.”
Michael smiled. “I’ll order us some food. You two have a seat. I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll be right back.”
When Remington left, he and Angelique sat down on the sofa.
Now that no one was chasing them and they were alone, he didn’t know where to begin. How do I tell her how sorry I am?
They looked at each other for several awkward moments.
She leaned forward, breaking the silence first. “I told Michael about the commissioner and what happened at the Hippodrome.”
“So did I. Seems that you and I are still in synch even after so many years apart.”
Another long, painful pause.
“He’s getting some of his men to look into it,” she said.
“Your husband will get to the bottom of this, I’m sure. He’s very capable.”
“I know he is, but I’m confused about this place and these armed men. Look around, Austin. This certainly goes far beyond U.S. Embassy business.”
Angelique was always so intelligent. How had Remington been able to keep her in the dark for so long? Obviously, she was so much in love with her husband she never questioned him—until now.
Austin knew the dangers of covert operations. The less Angelique knew the easier it would be to keep her protected, but that was not possible after what she’d seen. It was Remington’s place to tell her the truth, not his. “I’m sure this is just part of his job, and he’ll explain it to you when he can.”
“You and I both know he’s got some kind of secret he’s holding back. What happens now?”
“You haven’t changed, Sis, always needing to figure things out for yourself. I’m sure Michael will help you through whatever happens next. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“And I’m so glad you’re alive.” She closed her eyes, and a single tear streamed down her cheek.
She’d suffered so much, and he was responsible for the biggest part of her pain. He’d been running from this moment for so long, avoiding the past by staying away from Angelique. I was such a selfish bastard. But they shared the same pain. No more running. She was his sister. She needed him.
“We left on such bad terms at mom and dad’s funeral.” He’d been such a fool then. “That was my fault. I should have stayed.”
She grabbed his hands. “You did the right thing. We both had to get on with life. It was hard, but it helped me become the woman I am today.”
“And from what I’ve seen, quite the capable woman, too.”
“I do my best.” She smiled. “You and Michael are the only family I have. But promise me you won’t leave me again.”
“I’ll do my best to stay around, Sis,” he said, wondering if he should. Have I endangered her just by coming back? “But I just awoke, and the whole world is turned upside down and sideways.”
“I can help you figure it out. I want to be there for you.”
“I know you do.” She’s a better person than me, because I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most. “I really am sorry, Sis, that I failed you.”
“We were only eighteen, Austin. Just kids. No one knows how to act when their parents die, especially when they’re only eighteen.” She kissed him on the cheek. “All is forgiven. The past is the past. Okay?”
“You’ve got a deal.” He hugged her. The awkwardness was gone. The closeness he and Angelique shared before their parents’ death was back. No more running. “I love you, Sis.”
“And I love you.” She stood and walked over to a small refrigerator in the corner of the room. “I’m thirsty, how about you?” She peered inside. “There’s bottled water, 7-Up, orange juice, Coke, and Diet Coke.”
“I’ll take a Coke. Thanks.”
“That’s still my favorite, too.” She brought back two cans and handed him one. “What about the Navy, Austin? Do you need to inform them that you’re alive?”
He took a long drink of his soda. The sweet liquid tasted great and felt good in his dry mouth and throat. “I’m not in the Navy anymore—and probably can’t ever return.”
She sat down on the sofa again. “Why would you say that?”
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“How can I explain to them that I was dead but now I’m alive? I don’t even know how it happened. I’m sure the brass would see me as a deserter. Until I know who was responsible, and how my death was faked, I must remain a civilian.”
“That’s perfect. You can come live with Michael and me.”
He grabbed her hands. “You’re happily married, Sis. You and Michael have a life together. A future. I’m a dead man who just rose from the grave. You don’t need that kind of baggage around.”
“But you are alive, and you are my brother. That won’t ever change.” She kissed him on the cheek and then leaned back. “Michael never told me that story about the thong in the library before.”
“He was much younger. I bet he accidentally forgot it.”
She shook her head. “Accidentally on purpose, I bet.”
They laughed together. It felt so good after the many years of separation.
Michael returned. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” they said in unison, winking at each other like when they were children.
“I doubt that.” Michael took the chair opposite the sofa he and Angelique sat on. “I ordered Chinese. It’ll be here shortly.”
“Seems to me that you’re in charge of everything here, Michael Remington.” Angelique’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t difficult to see how hurt she was that he’d kept her in the dark so long. “Is there something you want to tell me? To confess?”
Michael lowered his head and sighed. “I hoped this day would never come. It’s really better for you to know as little as possible.”
She stood. “Just tell me. I already know you’re a spy.”
He stared at her for a moment, and then said, “Yes. I’m with the CIA.”
“Now the late night calls and meetings are starting to make sense.” In typical Angelique-fashion, she folded her arms over her chest. “Just when were you planning on telling me?”
Michael left his chair and reached for her, but she stepped back from him. He sighed. “I never planned on telling you, but today’s events have changed that. I kept it secret only to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?” She unfolded her arms, a sign to Austin that her hurt and anger was softening. “I’m your wife.”
“Honey, my job gives me access to information that many would kill for. As far as the rest of the world knows, I’m a staffer at the U.S. Embassy.” Michael’s words were heavy with emotion. He stepped forward and pulled Angelique into his arms. This time, she didn’t step back.
Seeing this exchange between Michael and Angelique showed him how much they meant to each other.
“It was critical for me to keep my cover even from you.” Michael kissed her forehead. “I couldn’t risk anyone using you to get to me.”
She got up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to Michael’s. “Don’t you ever keep a secret from me again.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Then…I forgive you.”
He laughed. “That’s all I needed to hear. I love you so much, sweetheart.”
“I love you, too.” She smiled. “Austin, I’m so sorry you had to listen to our discussion.”
He stood and grinned. “I’m just glad you two were able to work this out.”
Angelique nodded and then her eyes widened. She turned back to Michael, who was still holding her in his arms. “Honey, do you think what happened to Austin has something to do with your real job?”
“I just don’t know.” Michael guided Angelique back to the sofa and sat down beside her. “I wasn’t in the agency when Austin was shot in Iraq.”
“No you weren’t, buddy.” He sat down in the chair and took another sip of his Coke. “You were by my side.”
“What do we do now that your cover is blown, sweetheart?” Angelique asked.
“I’m in contact with my superior at Langley. He’s getting safe transport set up to get us back to the States.”
Shock swept over her face. “We’re going to leave London? What about my job and my students?”
“It will be taken care of, honey. It’s too dangerous for us to stay here.”
Angelique stared at her hands. “This is my home. I love this city.”
Michael took both of her hands in his. “But I’ll be with you. No matter where we are, we’re home if we have each other.”
Angelique nodded. “I hate to leave, but I’m glad I finally know the truth. Now we have no more secrets.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His friend, who Austin now knew was his brother-in-law, kissed Angelique. “My superiors aren’t thrilled.” Remington shrugged.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to smooth things out with them just fine, Professor. Or should I start calling you Mr. Bond. Mr. James Bond.”
The three of them laughed.
“I prefer ‘Professor’ or ‘Michael’ if you don’t mind. But we’re still in the dark about you, Austin. Doesn’t make any sense. I’m not a medical expert, but wouldn’t someone who had been under for so long need time to recover to get their strength back?”
Austin finished his drink and sat the empty can down on the table. “Doesn’t make any sense to me either. None of it.”
Angelique spoke up, “I might know why you woke up from such a long coma and seem just as vital as you were years ago.” She turned to Michael. “You constantly tell me that I look the same as the day we got married. Is that true or just a lie?”
“Of course, it’s true.”
She ran her hands through his hair. “Austin and I are twins. I’m sure he heals just like me. You remember when I sliced my hand last November. The wound was gone in two days. I didn’t even scar.”
“That’s not the same thing as taking a bullet to the chest, sweetheart.” Michael clearly wasn’t convinced. Neither was Austin. “But there’s no denying your brother looks identical to when I last saw him in Iraq.” Michael looked at him and shook his head. “He hasn’t aged a single day.”
“I don’t know about that, but you are right about one thing, buddy. I should be dead. That bullet went into the center of my chest, but there is no scar.” He pulled up the sweater to show them.
“My God, how is that possible?” Michael looked stunned.
Angelique came over and touched him where the wound should have been. “I’m sure our genetics have something to do with why you’re still with us.” She nodded. “That has to be the answer.”
Angelique started pacing around the room.
“Are you okay, Sis?”
“Give her a second, buddy,” Michael said. “That’s how she thinks when she has a big problem to solve.”
After three laps around the room, she stopped. “We don’t know who our biological parents are, Austin, but I have an idea their DNA is different from most. There’s a hypothesis that I heard about when I first came to London that might be the answer to why our bodies heal so fast. Dr. Thomas Wilson believes—”
“Dr. Thomas Wilson?” he and Michael said together, jumping up from their seats.
Michael grabbed Angelique by the hand. “It’s his hypothesis you’re talking about? The man in the papers?”
“Yes. And I can see by the looks on both your faces you’ve discussed Dr. Wilson and his connection to that serial killer. According to Scotland Yard, he is not a suspect in the case at all. Why the killer is interested in him is still a mystery. Dr. Wilson is cooperating with the investigation in every way.”
“Do you know Dr. Wilson personally?” Austin asked her.
“I don’t, but Kelsi does.”
“Dr. Vickers?” Michael asked.
She nodded.
Austin didn’t like that his sister was connected to a serial killer by just a couple of acquaintances. Six degrees of separation, my ass. “Who is Dr. Vickers?”
“She works at the British Museum. She’s a friend of Angelique’s.” Michael put his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “Are you sure you’ve never come in contact with the man, honey?”
; “I did meet Dr. Wilson once a long time ago in my first year of university. Why the intense interest in Dr. Wilson? Does it have anything to do with what happened to Austin?”
Michael brought out the note. It was wrapped in a clear evidence bag. “Because this was found in one of the pockets of the overcoat your brother was carrying. It’s another Ripper letter to Dr. Wilson.”
Angelique read the letter, and her eyes widened. “Do you think what happened to Austin might be connected to the murders of those women?”
“We just don’t know,” Remington answered. “Still trying to piece it together. The team checked this letter out and didn’t find a single fingerprint, partial or otherwise. But we think the overcoat could be the killer’s.”
“Angelique, tell us about the doctor’s hypothesis,” Austin said, his curiosity piquing.
“Dr. Wilson believes that there are large percentages of other hominids’ DNA that still exist in a single group living in the world today, maybe even direct descendants. He’s spent his entire life trying to locate them.”
“I thought the other hominids died out tens of thousands of years ago,” Remington said.
“Not entirely true. In fact, it’s been proven recently that modern day humans carry a small percentage of Neanderthal genes, especially those of European and Asian descent. Wilson’s hypothesis is that an unknown hominid group continued to evolve alongside Homo sapiens.”
“And what does that have to do with you and me, Sis?”
“We don’t know who our biological parents are, Austin. Who’s to say we aren’t carrying a large percentage of Dr. Wilson’s unknown hominids’ DNA in our blood? He believes that the modern day descendants of this species might have a leg up on the rest of humanity with their immune systems. His whole search for this hominid gene is to help find cures for the diseases plaguing mankind, like cancer, heart disease, and more.”