by Ian Edward
‘You won’t go anywhere near the Goddamned sub-level, you don’t want to know, so what makes you think I’d just truck on down? Do you think I approve-’
‘You approve and you turn a blind eye, same as me, because you are me-’
‘Bullshit. I’m nothing like you. I turn a blind eye but only because that’s the whole structure, the whole damn culture you’ve created. Our staff don’t know any more than they need to, just their little part of the project, and those of us who do know pretend it isn’t really happening down there. We leave it to your henchmen to do the dirty work.’
‘There’s been a lot of crap these past few weeks and you’re stressed out, Stephen. And yes you’re under a lot of pressure to make the breakthrough. But try to stay focused. Don’t forget how much you’ve contributed, or the position it will put you in. The achievement, Stephen, the extraordinary achievement. Yours and mine.’
Westmeyer paused, allowing his words to sink in. The two men stared at each other through tired, obsessed eyes. ‘Remember, you’ve come all this way, solid as a rock, without dropping the ball. Don’t stress out now. Just…stay…focused.’
Hunter didn’t acknowledge having heard a word. ‘And what the hell is Donnelly doing snooping around here every hour or so anyway. I’m not the one he’s supposed to be keeping his eyes on. I’m hampered by slow feedback from his precious sub-level but he’s constantly up here, hovering, glowering, snooping. I know he’s your pathetic odd job man but we had an agreement when you lured me into all this, that your morons would stay clear of me and my labs.’
Westmeyer strained to keep his composure. Hunter was infuriating when his arrogance spun out of control. ‘Don’t worry about Donnelly right now. Just…put some trust in me, Stephen. We’re almost there. I can promise you won’t have any of these annoyances again, after we’re done here. The breakthrough with Delta Chain is equally yours. It’s going to put us into orbit with Nexus, and ultimately with the scientific community. The world will be your oyster, Stephen…unlimited funds, your own projects, your own research centres.’
Hunter sighed deeply, letting his fatigue sink deeper into his sunken features. He’d succumbed to Westmeyer’s pep talks more times than he could remember. ‘Just keep Donnelly and his goons away from me. They’re neanderthals, they’ve no place in the world of science.’
‘A necessary evil.’
‘It sickens me.’
‘You’re forgetting what I told you when you came on board. Don’t think about what’s happening on the sub-level. Focus on your work in here. There’s an underbelly to everything in life, and that underbelly will advance this project to be of enormous benefit to the world. Focus on that. Leave the underbelly to the ones who were made for it.’
CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR
from Daniel’s journal
If there is one thing I’d like to tell my brothers and sisters at The Com, it’s that I’ve tonight seen television – the great, mysterious, much talked about evil – for the first time. Of course, we’d always known of its existence, and that of rock music and film, but we’d never been exposed to them. The media of the outside world has always been banned, as instruments of the devil.
When I was younger I was scared of the outside world. But in recent years I’ve been not so much scared as curious.
I’ve been out here a few days now. I’ve survived. In the homeless persons refuge, I’ve seen people sit and eat, talking quietly, watching the screen in the background. I watched and listened as a man told us the news, showing the picture of a drowned girl whose face I recognised.
A girl who’d been sent away from The Com, years ago.
It looks odd, all those pictures moving in that little box. The news they report can be disturbing. But I wonder: is this any more evil than the beatings and the loneliness and the horror of The Darkness, which are just part of our lives at The Com.
CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE
Close to midnight and Adam hadn’t been back in his apartment for long. After dropping Harrison off, he’d spoken again on his cell with O’Malley. The puzzle of what lay within the Institute sub-level was like a giant shadow looming. Coffee would only add to the buzz in his head so he poured orange juice.
The doorbell rang and he knew it would be Kate.
She breezed in and melted into his arms. She held him tight and he responded, squeezing her closer, ruffling her blonde hair. ‘I think they must be right,’ she said, ‘absence does make the heart grow fonder.’
‘In this case, yes.’ He pulled back, appraising her, and steered her to the lounge. ‘You must be exhausted.’
She allowed a dramatic slump of her shoulders. ‘Well, now that you mention it.’
‘I’ll get you a drink.’
‘Something cold and sweet. A Coke?’
She sank onto the sofa and he returned with the drink. Glad to have her back, but feeling a reserve, a black spot he wished wasn’t there. He wondered if she sensed it. ‘I’ve been going crazy.’ He was still standing. ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me what you were up to?’
‘It was a nutty, spur of the moment thing. I…just did it, practically without thinking.’
‘You couldn’t have phoned me?’
‘Like I said, it was so spur of the moment, no thinking.’ She gave him one of her daffy, impetuous expressions.
‘But Kate, you flew all the way to the Territory from Sydney, found this Coolawirra guy, organised for digital tracking equipment to be delivered…’ His voice trailed off.
She waited.
‘…and you couldn’t be bothered, or couldn’t spare two minutes, to phone me?’ His frustration grew deeper as he confronted her. This wasn’t the way he wanted to feel but the emotion had taken on a life of its own.
‘You know, Adam, I was really busting to get back here and see you, even though it’s the middle of the night, even though I’m totally whacked. I thought you’d be pleased, impressed even, that I’d tracked down the bastards who killed my brother-’
‘I am-’
‘And maybe I was wrong, maybe I should’ve called, but I’ve already explained my head was all over the place. For God’s sake I’d just buried Greg and my Mum and Dad are devastated and I just…reacted, had this idea, and one thing led to another…’ her voice rose, ‘…but all you care about is your male pride. Why weren’t you told, why weren’t you consulted…’ She slammed her glass down on the low set coffee table, spilling Coke, jumping to her feet. ‘I guess I trod on those great big policeman toes but bugger me, bugger what I’ve been going through-’
‘Okay, Kate-’
She was heading for the door. ‘No, not okay, Kate. Stuff you, Adam Bennett-’
‘Kate-’
‘Fuck off!’ The door slammed behind her.
Adam hesitated. Had he been wrong to show his anger? He decided to go after her. This wasn’t how he’d wanted things to go. What the hell was wrong with him? Out the door, down the stairs. By the time he reached the street her car had pulled out from the curb.
His cell phone rang. Now what…? He was exhausted, needed sleep. He answered the call and instantly he was wide awake, his mind snapping to alert as the police dispatcher gave him the news.
‘Of the thousands of crime scenes I’ve been called to, I swear nine out of ten have been in the middle of the night,’ Brian Markham reflected.
‘Stop exaggerating.’ It was a joke between old friends but neither Adam nor Markham smiled.
Stephen Hunter was on the couch, head in hands, visibly shaking. Harrison, who’d been called back on duty almost as soon as Adam had dropped him off, was with him. ‘Dr. Hunter’s been putting in long hours at the Institute this week,’ Markham said in quiet tones, ‘and he’d come directly here from his lab. He said Miss Cail was expecting him for a late supper. He found the bodies.'
Adam inspected the corpses. The police photographs had already been taken by Harrison. ‘It would appear,’ Markham said, ‘that for whatever reason, Collosimo’s been in
the apartment to see Melanie Cail and I expect they’ve argued. Cail has lunged at Collosimo with a kitchen knife and he’s pulled out his weapon and fired just as the knife’s lodged in his chest.’
There were no signs of struggle and no forced entry, supporting Markham’s comments. So why did Adam have the unmistakable impression it was all too obvious?
‘What do you really make of it?’ Adam asked the coroner, reading between the lines.
‘You really do think you can read me like a book, don’t you?’
‘You’ve wearing your something-isn’t-right face.’
‘I have this odd feeling it’s all a little staged.’
‘Same here.’
Adam approached Hunter. ‘I know this has come as a terrible shock, and I'm not going to disturb you further tonight. But I will need to interview you tomorrow.’
‘I understand.’
‘Will I find you at home?’
‘I’ll be at the Institute. Couldn’t just sit at home, detective, I’d need to keep busy.’ Hunter stared back at him through red eyes. ‘I was in love with her.’
Adam, Harrison and Markham re-iterated their condolences. Adam was aware, from his talks with Kate, of Hunter's womanising past. He didn't necessarily believe anything the young scientist said about being in love, but didn’t consider him a prime suspect either.
He did wonder, however, how much Hunter really knew.
Hunter had been with Westmeyer for several years, both here and in Florida.
With the drownings, the boy from The Com and the crocodile hunting all linked to the Institute, the question of just how much Hunter knew, and whether or not he was personally involved, was going to be paramount.
CHAPTER FIFTY SIX
The girl woke with a start. She was alone and it was still quiet beyond the thick cell door. They weren’t coming for her yet.
She was surprised she’d fallen asleep, despite her dreadful fatigue, but she certainly didn’t feel rested: she was covered in a cold sweat from recurring nightmares. It clung to her skin like the clammy touch of something dead. The nightmares weren’t the stuff of some black fantasy; they were simply re-enactments of her reality, of the horror her life and impending death had become.
She hadn’t expected to still be alive this morning. She’d expected to die (and thought she was actually dead) the day before. She remembered the fear, the silence of a scream that wouldn’t come, the desperate pleading with her eyes and her clenched fists. She remembered, too, the face she hadn’t seen before, watching from a distance, as though he was a spectator watching a show.
Who is that bastard? Why won’t he help me?
As she had a dozen times before, she wondered who these people were and why they were doing this.
Death would come today. She was certain of that. She sobbed as she thought of the excruciating ordeal that lay ahead.
Oh Dear God why me…why?
Curled in a foetal position, she cried silently to herself, rocking back and forth. As she did every day, she thought of Daniel. She tried to envisage every feature of his face, however small. How she wished he were here, to feel the palm of his hand in hers. If only he could have been here, to hold her hand as she died.
PART THREE
THE DELTA CHAIN
CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN
Heavy cloud meant the dawn was more like a long twilight spread across a still landscape. There was the occasional boom of thunder, and the DJ on Adam’s car radio warned of thunderstorms throughout the day.
The interior of the house no longer resembled the family home it had once been. Hastily erected work-stations and evidence benches were crammed with electronic equipment. Scattered mugs and plates had provided a breakfast of toast and coffee. Adam wiped sleep from his eyes as he entered the house and gratefully accepted a mug of the brew. He hadn’t had much sleep and it showed in his rumpled appearance. He didn’t care.
Markham had walked in only minutes before him and Kate was already there, bright eyed, setting up the Landscan III unit.
O’Malley breezed across and grasped Adam’s hand. ‘Okay, Adam, I’ve just introduced Kate and Brian to the team and we’ve about finished setting up here. I’ve just been digesting this intel on last night’s double murder.’
‘Yeah…’
O’Malley, in a louder voice, addressed the full team. ‘Okay, people, pull up seats and let’s go through the situation.’
Adam leaned against the armrest of a sofa as the others gathered. The furniture had been pushed out of its natural place, an organised chaos that, strangely enough, matched the intense environment of a task force in action. From time to time he glanced in Kate’s direction but she studiously avoided eye contact. If she’d been affected as he had by their words the night before she didn’t show it.
She was focused.
‘You’ve all been brought up to date on the Landscan III,’ O’Malley said. His demeanour was calm but with the necessary stamp of command. ‘The on screen map shows us that the croc poachers are at the Westmeyer Institute. Last night, Detective Bennett and Constable Harrison observed the passage of a large road rig into a rear dock entry. We’ve no doubt there is a lower level capable of housing that rig, though there’s no knowledge or evidence of such a level amongst the general workers. Adam and Kate can attest to that.
‘There is, however, a little used goods lift at the rear of the building, which is the most likely internal access point to the lower level.
‘Adam and Kate discovered, from Rhonda Lagan’s diary, that she was called on to fix PC units she suspected were used in a hidden section of the Institute. Whatever has been built below ground has been done in secret.
‘Wal and Megan now have detailed information on the Institute’s history…’
Wal Hester moved forward. ‘The Institute is known for its work in developing cancer treating drugs; in recombinant DNA for products to treat blood disorders; and in testing new surgical instruments. Westmeyer has a small list of blue chip investors and clients, funding his research, just one of which is the U.S. Defence Department.
‘What’s unusual, though, is that from our analysis of papers filed with the Investment and Securities Commission, these funds wouldn’t fully cover the Institute’s operations. And that’s without taking into account the costs involved with this hidden level.
‘U.S Defence operations are classified, so we can’t at this time ascertain definite financial commitments-’
‘You think there’s a deeper level of undisclosed financial backing coming from there?’ Adam asked.
‘We’re going down that track, yes. Especially in light of the long association Westmeyer has had with Defence since Vietnam. At our last briefing we established that Logan Asquith, now head of the R&D division at Defence, was Westmeyer’s Area Chief Commander in Sun La Province. Now we can confirm key Westmeyer staff did their tour of duty in the same area at the same time, different battalions, but all under the same Area Commander.
‘Jackson Donnelly was a riverboat gunner, later going to work for Westmeyer. Hailing from Australia, Tony Collosimo was a teenage private. After ‘Nam, he returned to Australia. He trained in security, and later went to America to join the Institute during its early years.’
‘I gather,’ Markham said, ‘that Westmeyer put together his senior management from Vietnam contacts.’
‘Many of his scientific staff also came from Defence,’ Megan Shorter added, confirming Markham’s comment. All eyes now moved to her. ‘We’ve been in touch with the CIA, the FBI and the US Attorney General’s department. We have their co-operation in investigating both the Westmeyer Institute and Defence’s R&D staff in Bethesda.’
‘This doesn’t sound remotely like the sort of thing US Defence would support,’ Markham observed.
‘Couldn’t agree more,’ O’Malley said. ‘We believe this may be traced to a maverick group operating covertly within the R & D division.’
‘Another link,’ Wal Hester added, ‘is th
at the Feds have sent through a photograph, supplied by a reporter, showing the same croc hunters in Florida, at the time the Institute was based there.’
‘Okay, next step,’ O’Malley said, taking centre stage again, ‘we’ve had an ID, thanks to Kate’s employer, on the owner of the PC responsible for sending in the Institute’s computer virus. Traced via a PING number. Not a surprise, really. Melanie Cail.’
‘She did this to create her own news story?’ Kate was incredulous.
‘It seems that way. We’ve established she was being considered for a job with the Brisbane City Chronicle, which explains her ambition to stir up some big stories. For some reason, it appears Tony Collosimo was involved. As it happens, their deaths give us a continuing reason to have Adam on site at the Institute.’
‘There’s irony for you, ‘ said Markham. ‘Working the murder case will actually help us with our observation of the Institute itself.’
‘Yes. And I don’t need to tell everyone we need a fast result on both. Adam, today’s the day. You need to confirm those lifts as the access point to the lower level and ascertain what’s going on there, without raising suspicion. Then, we mobilise our people and move in, freezing the activities and making initial arrests.
‘Kate, it’s your first day back on board at the Institute, they probably won’t be expecting you and the murders will have caused a distraction, to say the least. Anything you can find out by delving into the databanks will be useful.’
O’Malley then deferred to Adam.
Adam addressed the team, sketching in details on the boy named Daniel. He glanced in Kate’s direction as he spoke. This time the gaze was returned. She nodded her head, acknowledging him. Adam was relieved that he saw no further signs of resentment there. He desperately wanted to speak with her but this was neither the time nor the place. He and Markham were due to leave immediately, after the briefing, for the Institute.