Trail of Poison
Page 23
“And Emily Swanson took it from me.”
That was what made Helen angriest—losing the story smarted like hell, but the fact Emily Swanson had stolen it from her made her insides burn.
“Think of it this way,” Christine said with a pitying look that made Helen scowl. “Lives have been saved. And there are always more stories. More corrupt companies just begging to be exposed. Valence Industries is not unique, and I can guarantee it won’t be long before its dirty linen is hung out to dry. Secrets like that won’t stay buried forever. Someone will fuck up—and you just have to hope you’re in the right place and the right time when they do.”
Helen avoided the editor’s gaze. She didn’t need her pity or her words of advice.
“Have a nice weekend,” Christine said, as she made her way through the doors. “You’ve heard of that, right? A weekend?”
Helen was now alone in the office. The stillness of the room felt physical, like an unwelcome embrace. Stretching out the fingers of both hands, she glanced back at the door. Then she clicked the computer mouse a couple of times, and sat back, staring at the screen.
While Emily had stood there making her demands, Helen had copied the entire contents of the flash drive onto her desktop. Now the files filled her screen, staring back at her. Tempting her.
She could sell the story, make a ton of money, and skip years of churning out shitty stories for shitty magazines. Or she could do as Emily had intended—she could hand the evidence over to the police.
As Helen continued to stare at the screen, Evan Holt entered her thoughts and an awful, twisting pain tore through her stomach. Valence Industries may have killed him, but what if Emily was right? Would Evan still be alive if Helen had kept quiet about TEL? It was possible.
And what about Anya and Josh Copeland? If she sold the story, would she be responsible for endangering their lives, too?
Helen logged off from the computer and the files disappeared from the screen. She would wait a while, a few months, maybe even a year—enough time for Valence Industries to believe its dirty secrets were safe once more. Then she would dig those secrets up again and expose them to the world.
But just like Christine had suggested, she would do it by the book. The Copelands would be taken into police protection, and London Truth would get their exclusive.
Helen smiled. It wouldn’t be the huge career jump she wanted, but it would be a jump all the same. Best of all, she wouldn’t have to share the spotlight with that rank amateur, Emily Swanson.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
OCTOBER RAIN WAS turning rusty autumn leaves into pulpy mush. In the streets, Londoners put up their umbrellas and bounced off each other in an endless stream, their summer colours now replaced by drab greys and navy blues as an icy wind chased them along the pavements. Winter had begun its slow approach toward the metropolis.
Emily sat at a desk, watching rain trickle down the glass of the third-floor window, and feeling grateful to be indoors where it was warm and dry. Having slept poorly the night before, she should have been feeling tired, but her nerves were providing a much-needed jolt of energy.
She peered at the other people in the room, noting with some anxiety that she was the only woman. Some of the men were already eyeing her. Why was she here, this thin-framed girl who barely looked strong enough to stand on her feet? Surely she’d stumbled into the wrong room.
Emily stared at the desk, at her new notebook and pen. Her right foot bounced up and down. She brought it to a standstill. At the front, two of the men muttered to each other, then one of them cast a quick glance in Emily’s direction. Emily stared right back.
A tall, upright woman, who was dressed in a black trouser suit, strolled confidently into the room. She took a moment to set down her bag and throw her coat over a chair before addressing the group.
“Good morning. My name is Erica Braithwaite. Just to confirm you have the right room, this is day one of IQ Level 3 Award for Private Investigators. Hopefully, you will have provided your real names on the register. If not, I’ll have my surveillance team track you down.” Her eyes roamed the room and landed on Emily. “Just my little joke. Because you’ve signed up for the more intense version of the course, I’m assuming you have little to no experience of private investigation. This course will teach you the fundamental basics you’ll need to begin your new career—the law, probity, standards, and core investigator competency.
“Once you’ve completed Level 3, there’s a range of other courses to teach you the skills and knowledge needed to become a successful and diligent practitioner within the private investigation sector. So, if you were expecting a crash course in snapping pictures of cheating lovers, or a guide to practical disguises, you have my sincerest apologies and the door is over there. But if you’re staying, let’s quickly go around the room and introduce ourselves before we look at the course overview. Let’s begin with you.”
Emily swallowed. Erica Braithwaite was looking at her. And so were the men. Suddenly, she was eleven years old and back at school. One of the men had a smile on his lips, as if he still couldn’t believe this little woman was here and not at home washing dishes.
Emily cleared her throat, untangled her fingers, and took in a breath. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. She glanced out the window at the failing rain. Then she stared—not at Erica, but at the men.
“My name is Emily,” she said. “Emily Swanson.”
DEAR READER
Although Trail of Poison is a work of fiction, there are countless documented cases of environmental racism around the world—in both developing and developed countries.
Valence Industries is a fictitious company. However, in 2013 a British chemicals company was convicted of bribing foreign officials to continue the sale of Tetraethyl lead (TEL) in unstable countries.
At the time of publication, TEL has been outlawed in almost every country in the world. The theory that lead poisoning in children can lead to aggressive behaviour in adulthood has been well documented and researched in the USA, UK, and around the planet. Environmental groups (like the fictitious Earth Conservation Group) continue to work with chemical companies to eradicate the risks of poisoning from lead and other toxins.
***
Ready for more Emily Swanson?
Watch You Sleep sees Emily as a fully licensed private investigator who’s about to take on a bone-chilling case.
When Jessica Harris’ husband is arrested for fraud, her family’s future is thrown into jeopardy. Then the first letter arrives... It seems like a sick joke—someone called The Witness claims to be watching Jessica and her children through the windows of their home. But as more unhinged letters and disturbing events follow, it’s clear that The Witness is real and means to do the family harm.
Yet is everything as it seems? Emily must risk her life to uncover the truth—before Jessica and her children pay a fatal price.
WATCH YOU SLEEP – OUT NOW
FREE & EXCLUSIVE EMILY SWANSON PREQUEL
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Huge debts of gratitude to my friends and family for their continued support. With special thanks to Kate Ellis for her editorial work, Alasdair Gray, Dutch Hearn, Victor Martinez Cecilia, and of course, to Xander, who always knows what to say when words fail me. To my readers, including my launch team—thank you.
UK ENGLISH GLOSSARY
flat = apartment
lift = elevator
ground floor = first floor
wardrobe = closet
removal men = movers
tap = faucet
letting agent = real estate agent
supermarket = grocery store
biscuit = cookie
torch = flashlight
holiday = vacation
trousers = pants
queue = line
film = movie
cinema = movie theater
garden = yard or lawn
autumn = fall
pavement = sidewalk
kerb = curb
car park = parking lot
multi-storey car park = parking garage
boot = trunk (of a car)
bonnet = hood (of a car)
wing = fender (of a car)
windscreen = windshield
van = truck
petrol = gas
motorway = highway/freeway
further = farther (for distance)
1 metre = 3 feet or 1 yard approx.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Storm House Books
Copyright © 2016, 2018 Malcolm Richards
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Previously published as Cold Hearts in 2016.
Edited by Kate Ellis
www.malcolmrichardsauthor.com