‘Henry Booth and Killian Baker were similar in many ways. Both intelligent, but with poor academic records. Guerrilla casters would be hounding their friends, if they had any. Both men were obviously loners.’ She shrugged. ‘Without access to their history graphs we may never know what drove them to such extremes.’
‘I can understand why people dislike Portal or even hate us, but to sacrifice your own life?’ He shook his head.
Louisa frowned. Something Simon had said made her think of Killian Baker. ‘To achieve anything truly great requires sacrifice.’
‘What?’
‘It’s something Baker said right before he shot himself. Then he mentioned something about “seeing me on the other side”. I didn’t give it much thought.’
Simon leaned his head against the chair’s back and closed his eyes. ‘Maybe it’s time for someone else to take over as CEO. If Adam were still alive he wouldn’t be impressed with how his company has fared under my leadership.’
‘What are you talking about? After the leaks, Portal nearly went under. You’ve done a great job turning the company around.’
His eyes flicked open. He tilted his head and stared at Louisa. ‘Really? There have always been plenty of pro-privacy crazies out there. Perhaps MI6 really do have nothing to do with this. The newscasts certainly believe the clan formed of their own accord. Fanatics, drawn together by their hatred of Portal.’ His face twisted in anguish. ‘Could they be right?’
‘You’re not dealing with pro-privacy activists here, Simon. The clan is something else. And Killian Baker wasn’t crazy. Not clinically anyway. You’re right about one thing though. Baker possessed strong beliefs. He was convinced his soul could ascend to a higher form of being. Perhaps that’s why he took his own life. He believed his death wouldn’t be the end.’
‘What are you saying? The clan is acting alone?’
‘Perhaps. It’s hard to know what the clan believes. Baker’s ramblings during his interview were incoherent. Whatever doubts you might have about your stewardship of Portal, you aren’t responsible for the bombing.’
Simon nodded, then he winced. ‘Ah, I’m sorry, Louisa. Here I am, nattering on about the clan and Ben is still with them.’
Louisa bowed her head. She’d slept fitfully the previous night. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Henry Booth, right at the moment he detonated the bomb. Then when she drifted off, her dreams had offered no refuge. It wasn’t Henry dressed in the long coat, reaching into an inside pocket, but Ben, and as soon as he turned to look at her he was engulfed in fire and smoke. Before she knew it Simon had wrapped her in his arms. ‘It’s okay. We’ll get through this.’
‘I know we will, but what about Ben? The clan’s brainwashing those kids. Radicalising them.’
‘Ben’s smart. He’ll see through their crap.’
Louisa shook her head. ‘Ben’s vulnerable, Simon. I’m not sure if he’ll have the strength to resist whatever Harrow’s feeding them.’
‘You can’t think that way.’
‘Then there’s Jess and Charlie. They know Ben’s in the clan. They don’t know what to believe.’
‘Perhaps they need a distraction. Something to keep their minds occupied.’
‘Like what?’
‘You could all stay at my place for a while?’
She unwound herself from his arms. ‘Simon, that’s crazy.’
‘Why? My place is huge. Too big for me alone. Jess and Charlie won’t mind. It’ll be like a holiday for them.’
‘You only met them a couple of times.’
‘And I thought they were great.’
‘They were on their best behaviour. They’re teenagers. You don’t know what you’re volunteering for.’
‘I’ll admit I’m being selfish. It’s for my benefit too. It’ll give me something to come home to. You and the kids. It doesn’t have to be permanent. It can be for as long or as brief as you want.’ He hesitated. ‘Louisa, I want to give it another shot. You and me, it can work.’
‘I don’t know, Simon. This is all a bit much, to be honest.’
He held up his hands. ‘Sorry. I can come on a bit strong sometimes. When I want something I tend to go at it full steam. Please, think it over. Talk to the kids. The offer will stay open, even if you say no for now.’
Louisa had never considered moving in with Simon, not even when they were together.
‘I promise to give it some thought,’ she said. ‘Get some rest now, okay? I’ll call back later.’
She could tell Simon’s smile masked disappointment. ‘Sure, Doc, whatever you say.’
He did look tired, and he didn’t protest when she ushered him to the bed and helped him lie down. As Louisa left the room he gritted his teeth and massaged his temples once again.
‘Excuse me, Ms Bennett?’ A doctor approached her.
Louisa nodded. ‘Yes?’
‘I’m Dr Harrison, Mr Carlyle’s physician. Mr Carlyle wishes to leave the hospital tomorrow. I’ve insisted he have someone to accompany him. Will you be available? He’s named you his next of kin.’
Of course he did. Louisa glanced at Simon through the glass wall. She shook her head. He’d gotten back out of bed, and was leaning on the windowsill, looking outside. Simon’s lips moved. He was talking to someone. So much for laying off the implants.
‘Didn’t he tell you?’ the doctor asked.
‘No, but that’s okay. I can pick him up.’
‘Good. If you have a moment I need you to sign a form.’ He glanced upwards. ‘That’s strange. I can’t access Portal.’
Louisa checked her own. ‘I can’t either. Perhaps there’s a problem with the hospital’s coverage.’
‘I certainly hope not.’ The doctor stopped a passing nurse and asked her to check her connection.
Louisa glanced back at Simon. He’d opened the window. She frowned. If Portal’s down, who is he talking to? He put a knee onto the sill.
She took a step toward the room. ‘Simon?’
He clambered onto the sill and rose unsteadily to his feet.
‘Simon!’ Louisa shouted, alarmed now.
Simon gripped the window frame. He looked around. There was a smile on his face.
‘Mr Carlyle?’ The Doctor pushed the nurse aside.
Simon let go of the frame. He leaned forward, and fell from view.
Both the nurse and the doctor rushed to the window. The nurse turned away and covered her mouth. The doctor took her arm and half-carried her to a chair.
Louisa couldn’t move. Her legs had turned to lead. A chill struck her core.
It didn’t happen.
She kept saying it herself, over and over.
It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen.
She lurched forward. The nurse spread her arms, attempting to block her path. Louisa shoved her aside. The nurse fell and sprawled on the floor. She had to reach the window. She had to get to Simon.
‘Mrs Bennett, please.’ The doctor stood in her way now. He latched onto her arm.
‘Let me go.’ Louisa struggled to free herself. ‘I need to…I need—’
‘Some help here, please!’
More hands grabbed her arms from behind. She strained against them, but she was held fast.
Louisa winced at a sharp pain in her wrist. Her arm turned to jelly. The world blurred, tilted, and melted away.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘I appreciate you seeing me, Danny. I know how busy you must be.’
‘Any time,’ said DI Spears. ‘I just wish it were under better circumstances. I’m sorry, Louisa.’
She nodded her thanks. They were in Danny’s office at Scotland Yard. He’d inherited it from her old boss in SCD1, DI Fuller. It was hard to shake the memory of the countless tense and confrontational meetings that had taken place in this very room. She hadn’t slept much in the last twenty-four hours. There were gaps in her memory. She woke in a hospital bed, discharged herself against doctor’s orders and somehow made it home. DCI Le
nihan had called her in the evening, expressing his condolences. John agreed to take the kids for a few days. The rest of the night passed in a blur, hazy and indistinct.
‘I have a team assigned to the case,’ DI Spears said. ‘At this stage we’re ruling nothing out. All viable causes of death are being considered.’
Louisa had uttered the exact same platitudes countless times to husbands, wives and parents of murder victims. Now she was on the receiving end, they sounded hollow and meaningless. She realised Danny had stopped talking. He was twisting his wedding ring round and round with rapid movements of his thumb and forefinger.
‘Perhaps you can give me a breakdown of where you are with the case?’ Louisa asked.
‘Of course. We’ve obtained Mr Carlyle’s history graph and are currently working backwards through it from the time of death. So far the team hasn’t found anything out of the ordinary.’
‘The Portal network went down in the hospital moments before. Do we know why?’
‘No, but SIU is looking into it. The disruption was limited to a single floor of the hospital and lasted for approximately one minute.’
‘How was Simon talking to someone during the disruption?’
‘SIU is investigating that too. However since he wasn’t connected to Portal, the history graph shows no interaction with any other profile.’
‘Could he have connected to someone outside the Portal network?’
‘Maybe.’ The DI’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’ll ask SIU to look into it.’
Danny was humouring her. Walking on eggshells like everyone else. If he thought she was talking crap, she wished he would say so. ‘Has the initial PM report come through yet?’
‘It’s fairly grim reading. Are you sure you want to know the details?’
She nodded.
The DI’s eyes darted left and right as he interfaced with Portal. ‘The victim fell ten storeys onto a concrete pavement. He sustained substantial tissue damage, especially to the head and upper torso. Death was instantaneous. The PM…’
As Danny continued reading Louisa let the rest of the details wash over her. She’d learned to engage a kind of detached objectivity when reviewing post mortem reports. Often the obscure medical terminology helped mask the emotional impact of a particularly graphic injury. This time it was proving hard not to visualise each of the report’s findings. A lump rose in her throat, her skin prickling. She brutally suppressed the rising feelings, knowing she was seconds from tears. Later, she promised herself, I can fall to bits later, even as a part of her screamed that she should be back home, curled up into a ball. But she knew with absolute certainty if she allowed her grief free reign it would be days before she clawed herself free, and she needed to function, no mater how fragile she felt. When Ben was safe, then she could let go.
‘I’m afraid the pathologist doesn’t hold out much hope of learning much else from Mr Carlyle’s remains,’ DI Spears said, ‘We expect to have his final conclusions by tomorrow morning.’
She cleared her throat. ‘What’s your gut feeling, Danny? Please, don’t sugar-coat it for me.’
DI Spears wrinkled his brow ‘So far we’ve found no evidence to indicate any outside influence contributed to Mr Carlyle’s death. Unless any such evidence is forthcoming we’ll have to pass the case file on.’
In other words it will be a viewed as a suicide. The newscasts had all but decided Simon killed himself. They paraded psychologists who explained he may have been suffering from post traumatic stress, or he may have felt responsible for the deaths of his staff. Louisa dismissed all their speculation, refusing to believe Simon had wilfully taken his own life, even if the latter theory proved uncomfortably close to the truth. There had to be another reason why Simon jumped.
‘Simon was in a positive state of mind when I spoke to him moments before his death,’ Louisa said. ‘He was thinking of our...’ She stumbled over her words. ‘He was looking to the future. He wasn’t behaving like someone planning on taking his own life.’
DI Spears glanced down at his hands, once again fidgeting with his ring. ‘Louisa, we’ve spoken to Mr Carlyle’s physician. The doctor expressed concern over the head injury. He said it wasn’t uncommon for such patients to experience varying degrees of what he called vascular dementia. He said if Mr Carlyle suffered a minor stroke he could have experienced confusion and even hallucinations prior to his death. It’s a scenario we have to consider.’
Dr Harrison mentioned something similar to her before she checked herself out. He said Simon may have been completely unaware of his actions. Was she being unreasonable? She desperately wanted to prove Simon’s death was suspicious, but could he have been hallucinating? DI Spears offered her a wholly reasonable explanation for Simon’s death. She should grab it with both hands. Instead she felt a growing frustration. She wanted to reach across the table, grab Danny, and shout that Simon would never kill himself. She wanted to scream her lungs out.
Suddenly the walls felt like they were closing in. She tried to slow her breathing, but the air felt thick and heavy. Her pulse raced. Had it been this hot when she first sat down? Louisa jerked to her feet. ‘Thank you, Danny. I won’t take up any more of your time.’
‘I’ll keep you in the loop,’ DI Spears said, his relief palpable. ‘The moment we have anything new, you’ll be the first to know.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Louisa crossed the road to Victoria embankment and found an empty bench facing the river. The wide stretch of pavement had been a favourite spot during her time at Scotland Yard. It might have been the trees lining the avenue, or the river craft floating by, but the stresses of work never failed to melt away. And she needed a distraction now more than ever. Another COBRA invite had arrived from Stephen Cunningham. She’d declined it. Portal’s board wouldn’t want her representing them any more. Not with Simon gone. DCI Lenihan had refused her transfer to SCD1. In hindsight her request had been ill thought out. Even if he’d agreed, DI Spears would never have let her near the case. She wouldn’t have, in his place.
The transfer request had been an attempt to keep busy. To occupy her thoughts. At home, alone, they’d threatened to rise up and overwhelm her. She wasn’t used to feeling so powerless. All she could think about was Simon’s offer to move in with him. Imagining what it might have been like. Her and Simon, Jess and Charlie, living together. They might have been happy.
Heat suffused her face. She tried to concentrate on the river. It was a beautiful morning. Sunny, with barely a cloud in the sky. Tourists walking past still wore fluorescent raincoats, acutely aware the fickle British weather could change in a moment. Joining them were joggers and parents out for a stroll, pushing toddlers in prams. To her right the Houses of Parliament were mostly hidden from view behind the trees, although she could still see Big Ben’s clock tower through gaps in the foliage. She watched a barge as it emerged from under Westminster bridge, heading downriver. It had a white banner with blue lettering draped along its side. Robbie’s river cruises. Escape the city and explore the beautiful English countryside.
She activated her Portal interface and accessed the peaking news feeds. She truly wanted to sit and watch the river cruises drift by, but with Portal only a thought away it proved almost impossible to stop yourself. It was as if the sights and sounds of everyday life weren’t enough any more. Her brain craved the extra sensory input. Louisa’s annoyance at herself faded as she spotted a newscast about Simon.
It was a special piece on Simon’s life story. It briefly covered his MET service, then moved onto his Portal career. To her relief it didn’t mention their relationship. All too soon the segment finished and the news anchor moved on to the Portal bombing. Less than thirty seconds to cover someone’s entire life, and then they’re forgotten. Simon deserved more.
A man joined her on the bench and lit a cigarette. Louisa didn’t look away from the river. She hoped the man wouldn’t try to engage her in conversation. A troop of Spanish school children marched past in
a long line. Each of them sported a red and yellow backpack. Two teachers led the way while another brought up the rear, keeping a wary eye out for stragglers.
‘I can see myself living on a narrowboat,’ said the man beside her. ‘Floating along, waking up in a different place every morning.’
Louisa shivered as the day’s heat fled from her body. She recognised the soft-spoken Scottish lilt. It brought her back to when she’d first heard it, at Claire Harris’ funeral.
‘I’m supposed to be winding down,’ said the MI6 agent. ‘Taking things easy. Passing the baton to a new generation. Not my choice, but I’d come round to the idea.’ He took another drag from the cigarette. ‘Staffing decisions should never be made when the climate’s rosy. It clouds your judgement. You start to think the good times will never end. The problem is, when there’s a situation, and the guys who’d normally sort it aren’t around any more. Well then, you’re in trouble.’ He turned to look at Louisa. ‘Why is it, Inspector, that when there’s a shit storm, you’re always at its center?’
Louisa unclenched her jaw. ‘What do you want?’
The agent shrugged. ‘The same things most people do, I imagine. World peace. An end to global hunger and suffering.’
‘Don’t be facetious.’
‘Straight to the point then? I’ve been told you’re asking too many questions, stirring up trouble. That you’re a problem who needs fixing. I said, surely not. Inspector Bennett is our friend, she works for us, not against us.’
‘I don’t work for you.’
‘Really?’ The agent feigned surprise. ‘I do hope your memory’s better than that, Inspector, because I seem to remember you agreeing to the exact opposite.’
The man’s eyes bored into her skull. She couldn’t meet them for long. ‘How am I supposed to be working for you? I haven’t seen you since Claire Harris’ funeral. I don’t even know your name.’
One Life Remaining (Portal Book 2) Page 15