by CJ Carver
Lucy left Grace’s car around the corner and out of sight. She approached on foot. Ankle now blazing with pain, she hobbled into the little reception area. Empty. Tiptoeing into the corridor with its long window that overlooked a laboratory, it too appeared empty but she had to assume people were around. It was midday on a Thursday after all. Or had everyone gone into town for lunch?
She crept down the corridor. As she approached the door at the end, she heard shouting. Christopher. Yelling at the top of his voice.
She opened the door. Tiptoed into a small hallway with offices on each side. One of the doors was ajar. This was where the shouting was coming from.
‘She would have died if I hadn’t found her! What the hell do you think you were trying to do? She’s a policewoman! She’s a friend!’
‘No friend of mine.’ Jasmine’s voice was curt. ‘She’s a cop, so what? Plenty more where that comes from.’
‘Jesus Christ. You’re a piece of work, you are. I can’t believe I thought you were special. You’re nothing but a cold, murdering bitch.’
‘A bitch who protected you.’
‘I didn’t ask for your protection!’ he shouted. ‘I didn’t ask for you to kidnap Lucy and try to murder her! Christ, I even showed you that well during what I thought was a romantic stroll!’
‘When you told me about that sheep that had fallen in and you didn’t know about it for two weeks by which time it was well and truly dead. Do you really think you’re innocent here, Christopher?’
‘I could show you a car but I don’t expect you to run someone over with it,’ he snapped. ‘I went there this morning, not really thinking she’d be there, but something niggled at me and I just wanted to check. Thank Christ I did. Thank Christ.’ He sounded close to tears. ‘I don’t want anyone dead.’
‘You just want the money. To buy the Glenallen Estate back.’
‘Yes, I want my home back. But not if it means people get killed for Chrissakes!’
‘You are like a child.’ Jasmine was dismissive. ‘You should grow up. Real life isn’t full of roses. It has thorns too.’
There was a clatter. It sounded like something plastic had been thrown down. ‘Is this yours?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she said.
‘You’re lying.’
‘I did not bug you, Christopher. Why would I? I had you eating out of my hand. Now, tell me where you found it.’
‘Why should I?’
‘Just tell me.’ Jasmine sounded irritated.
When Christopher didn’t respond, she made an angry sound in the back of her throat. ‘Poq Gai. Go die on the street. You make things so difficult when in reality they are so easy.’
‘Like body snatching?’ His voice went stiff.
‘We had to conduct our tests. I explained it to you.’
‘But Nimue Acheson? Christ, Jasmine . . .’
‘You are so sentimental. She was just a corpse. A cadaver we needed to examine.’
‘You have no soul.’
‘I don’t need a soul. I have my country.’
Sudden silence.
‘I no longer want to do business with you,’ he said. His voice was flat and calm. ‘From now, I terminate our arrangement. I want you to fuck off back to China and take that slimy, nasty little Bao Zhi with you.’
‘You cannot terminate it. You have signed the agreement.’
‘I don’t care. It’s finished. Over. You don’t have the formula, and I won’t give it to you.’
‘You think I don’t have it already?’ Her voice was smug. ‘I know your passwords, I know all your codes. You think you’re so clever, but I have everything we need to take Snowbank to China. Thank you, Christopher.’
Lucy felt light-headed. Bao Zhi wasn’t here to test Christopher’s strong rice for the Kou Shaiming Company. He was here to test Snowbank.
Christopher laughed, but it wasn’t a laugh of amusement. It had the ring of triumph.
‘You really think I’m that stupid that I didn’t suspect you might be seducing me for my father’s technology? Jesus, Jasmine. And to think at one point I considered you intelligent.’
‘What do you mean?’ Alarm filled her voice.
‘The formulas on my computer aren’t the same ones that came out of Porton Down. They’re similar enough to fool someone not cognizant of the structures, but trust me when I say they won’t work. It will be like injecting a person with glucose.’
At that moment, a mobile began to ring.
‘Don’t answer it,’ Jasmine said warningly.
‘It’s Sam,’ he told her. ‘We don’t want her coming here, do we?’
Jasmine gave a grunt of what could have been agreement.
‘I’ll just text her. Tell her I’m at the lab.’
Lucy thought she heard a whisper behind her and for a moment, she thought it was just a draft coming from under the door, but then she sensed movement.
She planted her good foot on the ground and she was spinning around when something kicked her injured ankle very hard. She cried out, off-balance, about to fall to the ground but Bao Zhi caught her. He snaked an arm around her neck and brought a knife to her throat.
A hunting knife.
‘Keep still,’ he hissed.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
When Mac got Lucy’s message, for a moment he didn’t know what to do. He stood there like some kind of dumb bullock, relief flooding every vein in his body like morphine and making him feel euphoric but shockingly weak.
He rang the number she’d called him on but it went straight to the messaging service. Christopher’s voice, Sorry I can’t take your call . . .
Christopher had found Lucy? Hastily, he called Grace.
‘Hello?’ One word and he knew something was very wrong. She sounded dazed.
‘Grace. It’s Mac here. DI MacDonald. What’s happened?’
‘Oh. Hello. Well, Lucy’s OK. That’s the main thing. She’s OK. She’s er. . . a bit bruised but she’ll be all right. Christopher found her in a well. In an abandoned farmyard. I gave her a chicken and mayonnaise sandwich and a Mars bar. It was Susan McCreedy’s sandwich but she said she didn’t mind . . .’
She was drifting, obviously in shock.
‘Grace,’ he snapped at her, wanting to clear her head.
‘I just saved Christopher’s life. Sirius was here.’
His heart clenched. Lucy had told him about Sirius Thiele, the professional assassin.
‘Where is she now?’
‘She followed Christopher. She’s in my car. She told me he could be a cousin twice, maybe three times removed, but I’m not so sure . . .’
‘Where are you?’
‘The surgery.’
‘Tell someone what’s happened,’ he ordered. ‘Call the police. OK?’
Small pause.
‘You’re right.’ Her voice suddenly strengthened. ‘I ought to call the police. I should have done it earlier but there was no time. Absolutely none. He was going to kill Christopher, you see. And if I hadn’t stopped him, he’d be dead. The police. I’ll do it now.’
He hung up and at that moment, a text came through from Christopher.
At the lab.
He wanted to text back asking if Lucy was with him, but if she was following Christopher she might be doing it clandestinely, so he held fire and drove there instead.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
‘Tā mā de.’ Fuck. Jasmine stared at Lucy. ‘What are you doing here?’
With Bao Zhi’s arm crushing her windpipe Lucy couldn’t speak.
‘She was spying,’ Bao Zhi said.
‘That’s all she ever does.’ Jasmine came close. So close that Lucy could see a scattering of blackheads crowding the woman’s nasal creases. ‘Spying. And look where it’s got her! Ha! Not looking so clever now, are you?’
Christopher was on his feet. ‘For God’s sake, Bao Zhi. Put the knife down.’
‘No.’
Lucy was struggling to breath
e. Her fingers were clawing at his arm but it was like scratching an iron band.
‘Little bitch,’ said Jasmine. ‘You’ve caused us nothing but trouble.’
Lucy could smell the Chinese man’s breath. Onions and garlic and something sweet, like fruit lozenges.
‘PUT THE KNIFE DOWN!’ Christopher suddenly shouted, making them all flinch.
Bao Zhi’s grip slackened fractionally and Lucy took a huge gulp of air. As she did so, she felt a stinging sensation. Warm liquid trickled down her neck. Blood.
She couldn’t help it. She gave a whimper.
‘I told you to keep still,’ Bao Zhi hissed.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Christopher said. ‘She’s bleeding . . .’
He made to turn, to get a cloth, a bandage, anything, when Jasmine snapped, ‘Stay where you are.’
Christopher fell still.
Jasmine looked between Christopher and Lucy. A calculating look came into her eye.
‘You move one inch,’ she told Christopher, ‘and Bao Zhi will draw his blade across her throat. She will drown in her own blood. He will then cut her stomach. He will open her abdomen to make sure her organs spill across the floor. She will die in immense pain and without dignity. And it will be your fault.’
‘No.’ Christopher paled.
‘We will let her go, if you do as I say.’
Christopher’s mouth opened and shut. He sent Lucy a desperate gaze. She wanted to tell him not to trust Jasmine, to run while he could, but she still couldn’t speak against the pressure on her throat.
Jasmine stepped to a computer terminal. Moved the mouse. Brought up a page, then another. She tapped on the keyboard.
‘Where is the formula for Snowbank?’
‘No,’ Christopher whispered.
Jasmine gave Bao Zhi a nod. He pressed the knife against Lucy’s throat. The stinging sensation increased and she said, ‘No, no . . .’ but all that came out was another frantic whimper. The warm trickle increased. Tears began to run down her cheeks. ‘Please . . .’
‘OK, OK.’ Christopher’s voice trembled. ‘Let me—’
‘No.’ Jasmine’s voice was hard. ‘Tell me how to access it. I don’t want you secretly sending someone a message.’
‘I won’t, I promise. Please don’t hurt Lucy . . .’
Jasmine looked at Bao Zhi and gave him another nod. His grip lessened a little.
‘OK.’ Christopher took a breath. ‘It’s only available on the iCloud. I created a separate account. It’s got several firewalls. If you go to an account called Council Bills, the first password is X0NGGL4C7BBT.’ As he spoke, Jasmine tapped. Tensions lessened. Bao Zhi may not have realised it but his grip eased further.
‘Why?’ said Lucy softly.
Jasmine looked up with a frown. ‘What?’
‘Why is Snowbank so important to you?’
‘I don’t have to explain anything to you.’ Jasmine turned back to the computer.
‘No, you don’t,’ Lucy agreed. ‘But it would be nice to know why I nearly died for it.’
When Jasmine remained silent, Christopher ran a hand down his face.
He said, ‘Kou Shaiming is one of the biggest pharma companies in China. It’s really competitive over there. If they have Snowbank, they’ll be way ahead of everyone else. They want to use Snowbank to give them guidance on how well an individual is ageing and reduce the risks of diseases associated with old age. With the research team they’ve got – it’s massive – they’ll be able to predict which diseases they might suffer from, and help prevent them before it’s too late.’
Jasmine paused and looked at Christopher. ‘You really believe that shit?’
‘What?’
She shook her head. ‘You are so naive it is unbelievable. Stupid man.’
‘What?’ He was bewildered.
But Jasmine turned back to the computer.
I must get her talking, Lucy thought. Divert her.
‘If you’re not going to use Snowbank as Christopher thinks, then what plans do you have for it?’
‘Guess,’ she snapped.
‘Um . . .’ Lucy pretended to think of something intelligent to say to keep the woman engaged.
‘It could be a secret assassin’s tool,’ Lucy suggested. ‘But it wouldn’t be much use if you had to wait years for it to work.’
Jasmine turned and looked at her. ‘Not bad.’
‘An assassin’s tool?’ Christopher repeated, looking horrified. ‘What an awful thought! Kou Shaiming are only interested in helping humanity, not destroying it. Snowbank is there to do good.’
‘Aiyee!’ Jasmine flung up her hands. ‘I can’t take this any longer! Snowbank is for humankind, civilisation, charity, compassion, ha! You try living with terrorists on your doorstep for generation after generation.’
Jasmine had turned her back on the computer and was intent on Christopher.
‘The Uyghurs have been a thorn in our side for hundreds of years,’ she spat. ‘They have refused to integrate into Chinese society. They are unpatriotic separatists who threaten the stability of our country. They detonated a bomb on a city bus in Urumqi only this morning. Twelve people died, ten of which were children. They are animals. They are worse than animals. A baby boosting injection for every Uyghur child will eventually solve the problem. They will never know they have been exterminated. Is this not better than going in with tanks and soldiers? The Uyghurs will die out peacefully, each generation dying younger and younger until they are no more.’
Christopher stared. ‘You’re talking about genocide.’
‘So? Without the Uyghurs, we Han Chinese will be able to live peacefully again. In harmony.’
‘But all they want is their culture, their heritage, without being annihilated by the State.’
‘Then they should stop making bombs.’
Christopher looked bewildered. ‘But we talked about this. I thought you were on their side.’
‘You still don’t get it, do you?’ Jasmine’s voice became a shout of frustration. ‘I told you what you wanted to hear, you imbecile!’
Lucy had to do something while everyone was distracted, but she didn’t know how. Bao Zhi still had his arm around her neck and although she couldn’t feel the knife against her skin, it would take a millisecond for him to cut open her throat.
I have to move, Lucy told herself. You know they won’t let you out of here alive. They will kill you. YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!
She felt the pressure of fear building. Her nerves tightening. Her pulse began to lift as her adrenalin started to activate.
‘We have to stop them!’ Jasmine went on. ‘Or the Uyghurs will continue killing shopkeepers, innocent street traders and children unless we do something about it. Like implement Snowbank.’
JUST DO IT!
CHAPTER EIGHTY
Bracing her right foot, Lucy pivoted swiftly to her left, away from the knife, swinging her shoulder anti-clockwise, pushing into Bao Zhi’s grasp and not away. For a split-second he was caught unawares and she kept spinning, bringing her left elbow hard into his stomach.
She felt the knife draw over her shoulder. Felt it cut through her fleece and shirt, but it didn’t hurt.
She smashed the heel of her boot down on his instep. There was a cracking sound. She heard him grunt and she slipped out of his grip, tumbling to the ground.
Bao Zhi swarmed over her.
She locked her hands together and smashed her fists into his face but he kept coming. He was bringing up the knife and he was going to stab her. She squirmed and fought to get away, lashing her feet out, trying to kick him, hurt him, but she could have been fighting a brown bear for all the effect she had.
She heard Jasmine shouting and Christopher’s screams high pitched with terror and panic.
There was a flurry of movement behind Bao Zhi but Lucy couldn’t see what was happening. Her eyes were glued to the knife. She crossed her arms in front of her to defend herself.
‘No
. . .’ she managed, fighting with all her might.
At that moment Christopher appeared behind Bao Zhi. He held a computer monitor in both hands. He smashed it down on the man’s head.
Bao Zhi looked at Lucy as though surprised. His eyes widened. His mouth opened. And then he collapsed on top of her, the monitor crashing to the side.
‘Jesus, oh Jesus.’ Christopher was standing over them, shaking.
Lucy pushed and shoved Bao Zhi’s form aside. Scrambled to her feet.
Jasmine was nowhere to be seen.
‘Police,’ Lucy said. Lunged for a phone. Dialled 999. Requested police and an ambulance.
She hung up. She was panting and felt dizzy.
‘You’re bleeding,’ Christopher told her. ‘A lot.’
She reached her left hand around to her right shoulder. It was wet and warm and when she brought her hand back, it was covered in blood.
‘We need to get out of here,’ she said. A wave of weakness folded over her and she swayed.
Christopher came to her. Put an arm around her waist. ‘Let’s go.’
They’d barely taken three steps when Jasmine appeared. She was holding a syringe.
She said, ‘Christopher. Leave Lucy. This is all her fault – can’t you see? We’ll tell them it was Lucy who killed Bao Zhi because he kidnapped her. He’s a crazy man. He wanted Snowbank for himself so he could get all the accolade at home. Become rich and famous. Come.’ She clicked her fingers at him.
To Lucy’s dismay, he dropped his arm from her side. Moved away from her.
‘What is it?’ he asked, sounding interested.
She didn’t say anything.
‘It’s phenol, isn’t it?’
Jasmine gave a nod.
‘You killed Connor.’ His voice was quite calm.
‘It was an accident.’
He said, ‘My boy.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Jasmine held Christopher’s eyes. ‘I was examining Nimue Acheson . . . Bao Zhi didn’t know who it was . . . he just saw a child who would have told someone what he’d seen . . .’
Christopher looked at Lucy. His eyes were clear of shadows. He looked almost beatific. ‘Get ready.’