by Jim Eldridge
Jake thought about it. The whole thing was so far-fetched. But then, everything that had happened had been too much to believe.
‘Who are the other people in your cell?’ asked Jake.
Johnson shook her head.
‘That’s secret,’ she said. ‘It’s only because of what’s happened that I’ve decided to tell you that I’m a Watcher. You getting hold of the book. And Pierce Randall.’
He frowned. ‘How exactly did you know about my meeting with Alex Munro. And everything else that’s happened to me?’
‘I’m a Watcher,’ said Johnson. ‘I’m supposed to keep an eye on the book, and protect it. I wouldn’t be much good at that if I didn’t know what was going on.’
‘So you’ve been spying on me,’ he accused.
‘No. We’ve been watching Pierce Randall as part of our duties.’
‘For how long?’
‘Ever since they got into the Malichea business.’
The way she said it, with a heavily sarcastic tone, jolted Jake.
‘They only want to do good with these sciences,’ he pointed out, stung. ‘Just like Lauren. Surely that’s better than letting all that information lie hidden underground where no one benefits?’
‘Is that what Munro told you?’ She smiled. ‘Yes, he would.’
‘You’ve got a different take on it?’
‘Remember the info on that website. Pierce Randall are interested in just two things: money and power. They want to get their hands on these sciences so they can patent them. Can you imagine if you hold the patent on a cure for cancer! You can hold the whole world to ransom; demand any price you want, and people will pay it.’
‘That’s not true,’ said Jake, shaking his head. ‘Munro told me they want to stop companies doing that sort of thing. They want to put this information out into the public arena, free, so that everyone benefits.’
‘Well, of course that’s what he’s going to say!’ scoffed Johnson. ‘You wouldn’t be on his side if he told you the truth!’
Jake fell silent. I don’t know what to believe, he thought.
‘The book mustn’t go to Pierce Randall,’ said Johnson firmly.
Jake mulled over what she had just said. He looked around him, at the crowd of talking and laughing bikers, his mind numbed by the incessant loud pounding of the music.
‘So you’re saying that Pierce Randall are behind what’s been happening? Carl Parsons and that man being killed in my flat. The attacks on me.’
Johnson looked thoughtful.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘My instinct is to say yes, but there are lots of people who’d like to lay their hands on those books and the information that’s inside them. Governments, crooks, terrorists, investment banks. Not all of them are on Pierce Randall’s client list. But one thing’s for sure, whoever it is has used you big time. They used you to get into Hadley Park and get the book out. They obviously thought it would be easier to get it off you afterwards than try to break in themselves.’
‘But how have they known what we were up to? We were very careful.’
Johnson shook her head.
‘Not that careful, particularly with current surveillance techniques. They can track you just by the signal from your mobile phone, even when you’re not using it. You’ve been followed by hi-tech surveillance ever since you got involved. They’ve known where you are at any time, who you’ve met, where you’ve been.’
‘So Lauren and Carl . . .’
‘Carl Parsons was a Watcher.’
Jake stared at Johnson.
‘What?’ he said, dumbfounded.
‘That was why he got close to Lauren, as soon as he found out she was looking for the books.’
Jake’s mind whirled. Parsons, a Watcher!
‘So he was one of your four, your cell, whatever you call it.’
‘No,’ said Johnson, shaking her head. ‘There are some Watchers who float, move around. Sometimes they join a cell for a short while, but generally they go wherever there’s news of problems over a book.’
‘Sort of troubleshooters?’ said Jake.
She nodded.
‘Well, it can’t have been Pierce Randall who killed him.’
‘Why?’
‘Lauren gave the book to Parsons so he could hide it. Whoever killed Parsons must have done it for the book. Tonight, Alex Munro asked me to get him the book. If he’d killed Parsons, he’d already have the book in his possession.’
‘Not necessarily,’ countered Johnson. ‘Maybe Parsons was killed before they could get him to give them the book.’
She looked at her watch.
‘You need to go,’ she said. ‘If you’re out of that apartment too long, they’ll get suspicious.’ She gave him a firm look. ‘It wouldn’t be wise for you to tell them you were with me. I suspect they know I’m a Watcher.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll lie,’ said Jake. He gave a rueful sigh. ‘It goes with being a press officer.’
‘Maybe,’ agreed Johnson, ‘but I don’t think you’re very good at it. Lying, I mean.’
She stood up, and Jake felt a burst of fear at getting back on her motorbike.
‘That’s OK,’ he said quickly. ‘There’s no need to take me back to the apartment. I can get a cab there.’
She grinned. ‘The ride scared you that much, huh?’
‘No,’ protested Jake indignantly.
Johnson laughed. ‘Like I said, you’re a useless liar.’
Chapter 23
Jake caught a cab back to the apartment block. It was midnight by the time he got in. He tried Lauren’s phone again, but as before, all he got was her voicemail message. He hung up. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. But his mind wouldn’t let him. Every time he closed his eyes, the images of the day came back to him: the two men threatening him in the street; the dead man on the floor of his flat; the image of Lauren running away on CCTV; the story on the TV news of Lauren accused of the murder of Carl Parsons; Alex Munro at Pierce Randall; Penny Johnson and her terrifying motorbike. And all in one day. It was enough for a lifetime.
The sound of the doorbell buzzing woke him. He looked at the bedside clock, and jerked up with a start. 8.45!
He pulled on his jeans and hurried barefoot to the door and unlocked it. Sue Clark stared at him, at the fact that he was still undressed. And I bet I stink of booze from that bikers’ bar, Jake thought to himself ruefully.
‘You were supposed to be ready,’ she snapped at him, her tone curt and very disapproving.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I overslept. It was a tough day yesterday . . .’
‘Tell me later,’ she ordered. ‘Take a shower and get dressed.’
As Jake hurried to the bathroom, he wondered if he should ask if there would be time to get some breakfast, but he could tell by Clark’s face that she wouldn’t be sympathetic.
In the car on the way to the police station, Clark asked him, ‘Where did you go last night? The concierge said you went out.’
‘Er . . . just out for a walk.’
‘Why? We put you in the apartment to keep you safe.’
‘Because I needed to clear my head.’ Johnson says I’m a useless liar, mused Jake. Let’s hope I can persuade Clark to believe me. ‘Like I say, it had been a really rough day. I sat inside the apartment and felt the walls closing in on me. I had to get out and think.’
Clark didn’t even look at him. She doesn’t believe me, he thought. She’s going to ask me who I met.
But instead, the lawyer simply said, ‘You won’t have that problem any more. You should be able to go back to your flat after we’ve finished at the police station.’
Jake frowned. ‘You sure it’s going to be that easy? They seemed pretty sure I’m the one who killed that man.’
‘Just leave it to me,’ said Clark. ‘I do the talking. You keep your mouth shut unless I tell you that you can speak. Got that?’
‘Got it,’ he said meekly.
At the po
lice station, everything went exactly as Sue Clark had said it would. It was almost as if she and Detective Inspector Edgar had rehearsed their lines beforehand. By ten thirty, Jake and Clark were leaving the police station – after he’d signed a declaration that he wouldn’t be leaving the country without first checking with the police.
‘OK,’ said Clark. ‘That’s it, for the moment. You’re free, providing you don’t do anything stupid. Like break into another research establishment.’ Then she added, pointedly, ‘Or conceal evidence.’
‘What sort of evidence?’ asked Jake.
‘Lauren Graham,’ said Clark. ‘If she gets in touch with you.’
‘You’re telling me I should tell the police if I hear from her?’
‘No,’ said Clark, shaking her head. ‘You contact me. If I’m not available, you contact Mr Munro direct, or anyone else at Pierce Randall.’ She gave him a card. ‘These are the other numbers you’ll need. They’ll tell you what to do.’ She gestured at the car that had pulled up in the car park. Once again, Keith was at the wheel. ‘Are you going back to your flat? I can drop you off.’
Jake thought about negotiating public transport: buses or underground trains, or even taxis, and realised he still felt very vulnerable.
‘Yes, please,’ he said.
They drove in silence for most of the way, with Clark texting busily beside him, but as they neared his flats she said, ‘Mr Munro will be in touch with you very shortly.’
‘Oh?’
‘About the missing books,’ she said. ‘He is sure you will be able to help us. Let me assure you, it will be a relationship that could be very advantageous to you. After all, I can imagine that your job situation must be a bit precarious at the moment.’
Gareth! The realisation hit Jake hard. With everything that had gone on – being attacked by the duo, finding the dead man in his flat, Parsons being murdered and Lauren on the run – all that had pushed what had happened at work the previous morning out of his mind. He had to get in touch with Gareth and come up with some explanation. But what could he say? I thought you were trying to kill me?
‘We are experts at employment law,’ said Clark. ‘We can negotiate a very good settlement for you, if your employers try to sack you, or you want to leave.’
‘Thanks,’ said Jake, awkwardly.
‘I suggest we meet later today to discuss the best way to deal with your current employers.’ She checked her planner. ‘I’ve got a full programme, but I can do five o’clock, if that’s good for you?’
Pierce Randall are taking over my life, he thought. I don’t want this! I want to be free. I want things to be like they were, only with me and Lauren happy and together. But he heard himself say numbly, ‘OK.’
‘Five it is,’ she said, and she tapped in the appointment on her planner. ‘I’ll see you at Pierce Randall’s offices. Just give your name at reception.’
The car had arrived outside Jake’s flats.
‘Five it is,’ he said, as he opened the door. ‘And, thank you.’
‘All part of the Pierce Randall service,’ said Clark. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Jake watched the car move away, then he turned to look at his small block of flats. Home! He was free! He had no intention of going back to Pierce Randall at five, or any other time. At least, not until he’d got his head together and sorted out what was going on, and whom he could trust. And work out where the danger he was facing was coming from.
He had to get away. Out of sight, somewhere safe. But where?
He suddenly realised he hadn’t switched his mobile on. He’d turned it off while he was being interviewed at the police station, and then kept it switched off while he was in the car. He turned it on, and saw he had a message: a missed call. When he saw the number his heart gave a leap. Lauren had called! He rang her number immediately. She answered at the first ring.
‘Jake!’ Her voice sounded nervous, frightened. But then, considering what she must have been through, that wasn’t surprising.
‘Lauren! Where are you?’
‘I can’t tell you, in case they’re listening in.’
‘What happened with Carl?’
‘Oh, Jake, it was horrible!’ Her words came tumbling out. ‘I changed my mind.’
‘About what?’
‘About letting him have the book to look after. It was my project, I should be the one to take care of it. But when I said this to Carl, he got upset and tried to force me to give it to him.’
‘Because he was a Watcher,’ said Jake.
‘A what?’ asked Lauren, her tone bewildered.
‘They were – are – an organisation set up to watch over the books. Take care of them. Protect them.’
‘No. He wanted it because he’d arranged to sell it to someone.’
‘To sell it?!’ Jake repeated, shocked.
‘Yes. When I wouldn’t hand over the book to him, he . . .’ she hesitated, ‘he picked up a knife and threatened me with it. I’d never seen him like that before. He was going on about how much money there was at stake. Millions! It wasn’t the Carl I knew. He was frightening.’
‘So he used us to get the book for him?’
‘Yes!’ From her voice, Jake could tell she was crying now. ‘Anyway, he came at me and . . . we struggled . . . and then . . . I grabbed at his wrist to try and stop him cutting me with the knife, and . . .’ Over the phone, Jake heard her take a series of deep breaths.
‘There’s no need to say it.’
‘There is,’ she said. ‘It was an accident. We were struggling, and then suddenly his body went limp and he fell to the floor, moaning. That’s when I saw the handle of the knife sticking out of his chest.’
People could be listening, thought Jake. You’ve just confessed to killing someone! But it was self-defence. Manslaughter. Not even manslaughter. An accident. An accident and self-defence. She’d need a good lawyer. Pierce Randall.
I’ll be seeing them at five o’clock after all, he decided.
‘Why didn’t you phone me after it happened?’ he asked, hurt.
‘I didn’t want to phone anyone. I thought they might be bugging our phones, tracing me. But right now, I don’t know what to do or who to turn to. You’re the only one I can trust, apart from Robert. And Robert doesn’t know what’s been going on.’
‘We have to meet,’ said Jake.
‘No,’ said Lauren. ‘They’ll be watching you. If we meet, they’ll get me.’
‘There’s this firm of lawyers called Pierce Randall,’ he said. ‘They helped me. They’ll help you. Protect you. Come with me to meet them.’
‘No,’ said Lauren.
‘Who was Carl going to sell the book to?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she answered.
‘Whoever it was, if they get in touch with you, give them the book,’ said Jake. ‘That’s all they want. Give them the book and they’ll stop.’
‘No!’ said Lauren. ‘Not after all this! I killed someone I cared for, who I thought cared for me! If I just hand it over, what’s all this been about?’
‘It doesn’t matter what it’s been about,’ insisted Jake. ‘What matters is you stay alive. There’ll be other books. Give them this one.’
There was a pause, then Lauren said, ‘I haven’t got it. I’ve put it somewhere safe.’
‘Where?’
‘I have to go,’ said Lauren. ‘Go home, Jake. Go home. Stay safe.’
Then the line went dead. He dialled her number, but all he got was the usual mechanical voice informing him that ‘This person’s phone is switched off’, and telling him to leave a message.
He headed into his block of flats, and shuddered as he remembered the last time he’d walked in. The fear and panic he’d fought to keep under control as he entered his flat, and the shock at finding the dead man’s body. He knew he ought to feel as apprehensive about going back, but he didn’t. He felt battered and exhausted. If anyone leapt out at him now, he’d quite likely just say to them, �
�I haven’t got the book. I don’t know where it is. Now can you please leave?’
There was no one waiting for him on the stairs, nor on the landing outside his flat. The ‘scene of crime’ tape he’d presumed the police had fixed across his flat door had gone. Everything looked the same as before.
He turned his key in the lock, pushed the door open, and found himself treading on the post: junk mail, a few envelopes with what looked like bills, and a jiffy bag.
He picked up the jiffy bag, and felt his heart pound as he recognised Lauren’s writing on it. It couldn’t be. . . !
He opened the jiffy bag. Inside was the book they’d taken from the research lab. The one everyone was looking for. The one over which people had died. And now he was holding it in his hands.
Chapter 24
Jake sat in his living room, the book on the table in front of him. That was why Lauren had stressed for him to go home. She’d sent the book to the only place she thought was safe.
Jake’s mind was in a whirl. What should he do with it? Give it to Pierce Randall and let them take it into safe keeping? Give it to Penny Johnson? But how would either of those actions help Lauren?
He reached out and touched it, being careful not to disturb it too much in case it fell open, just in case there were any fungal spores still hidden among the pages. Not that it looked as if that would happen easily – it now had an elastic band holding it shut – but Jake was still cautious after what he’d seen happen before.
The book was encased in what looked to be a sort of oilskin or leather, black in colour. A symbol was embossed into the material. It was the same symbol Lauren had on her laptop, the seal of the Order of Malichea. And, etched into the material just beneath the symbol were the Roman numerals CCCLXVII. So this was book number 367, which meant there were at least another 366 books out there from the secret library, hidden.
I have to hang on to this book, Jake told himself. I have to hang on to it until I find out who’s chasing Lauren, and use it to stop them. I’ll give it to them to keep her safe, whether she wants me to or not. As he’d said to Lauren, there’d be other books to find; but there was only one Lauren. He had to protect her.