by Malcolm Rose
‘Time to put our skates on.’
‘What?’
‘She’s against outers so she’s got a motive. No doubt she’ll blame them for getting kicked out of her job as well. She’s not here so we’ll go to her. Is her home address in her file?’
‘Yes. On the other side of Shallow End. Second quarter of the main residential zone.’
‘Let’s go.’
SCENE 9
Tuesday 15th April, Early evening
From the window of Precious Austin’s living room, Troy looked out on her garden, with its three neat rows of wooden boxes and a gleaming chrome motorcycle parked by the back fence. Beyond it, there was a field and then the side of the new and impressive sports stadium. Towering over it was a single crane, but the construction job appeared to be complete.
‘When the Integrated Games get going, you’ll hear the crowds giving it some welly from here. Good atmosphere,’ Troy said.
At once, Precious replied, ‘A waste of time and money.’
‘Oh? Why’s that?’
‘Come on!’ she retorted. ‘Majors and outers competing on a level playing field? That’s ridiculous. We’ll win the endurance stuff. They’ll win the short and fast events. That’s not competition. That’s genetics. Differences in muscle development and body chemistry.’
‘You’re an us-and-them person,’ said Troy, ‘not a we’re-all-in-this-together person.’
‘Some call us separatists.’
‘Us?’
‘I can’t be the only us-and-them person, as you put it.’
‘My grandma would line up with you on that,’ Troy said with a smile. He adopted a friendly approach so that Precious would continue to speak freely. ‘Is there a separatist organization?’
She scratched her left cheek. ‘Not that I’m aware of.’
She was fifty-four years old, according to her file at Shallow End Laboratories. Physically fit, she looked younger than her age. She was slim with long dark hair. Her severe face did not readily form a smile. And Troy was already convinced that she didn’t always tell the truth.
‘You’re an engineer,’ he said. ‘A job that’s more outer than major.’
‘If an outer can do it, so can I. It’s not like sport, ruled by genes and body make-up.’ Precious tapped the side of her head. ‘It’s about what you’ve got up here – and determination.’
Fearing that Lexi would butt in with a jibe about the intelligence of majors, Troy said quickly, ‘So, let me guess what happened at the labs. They thought you were a bit north of competitive and they asked you to leave.’
‘You’re very … ’
‘Perceptive?’ Lexi suggested.
Precious avoided looking at Lexi. She made little eye contact with Troy either. ‘I was going to say smart.’
‘No,’ Lexi replied. ‘Believe me, he’s not smart. He’s perceptive.’
Troy forced a laugh. ‘She’s right. I knew I was perceptive before I was smart enough to know what the word meant.’ But Lexi had changed the tone of the interview. It was tense all of a sudden. Troy took advantage and asked Precious, ‘Where were you at eight o’clock on Sunday evening?’
‘Why? What happened?’
‘There was an incident at the laboratories and I’m having to find out where everyone was at the time.’
‘But I don’t work there any more,’ Precious objected.
‘But you’ve got all the know-how you’d need – and, you have to admit, a grievance.’
‘I’m out of touch. What happened?’ she asked again.
Troy suspected she was already aware of the scientists’ deaths. If he was right, she could be feigning ignorance because she was the saboteur. But knowing what had happened didn’t necessarily make her guilty. Whilst Troy had not released any information to the media, she could have heard rumblings from members of staff. She could even have talked to someone who worked at Shallow End Laboratories. Still, he played along with her game. ‘Calling it an incident will do for now. So, what were you doing on Sunday, eight o’clock in the evening?’
Precious scratched her cheek again. She had engineered plenty of time to think about her answer. Even so, she answered unnaturally slowly. ‘I was here. On my own.’
‘No one to vouch for you, then?’
‘No. But I can guarantee I wasn’t up at the labs.’
‘Are you sure?’ Troy tapped his life-logger. ‘You know what you say is being recorded, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I know. And, yes, I’m sure.’
‘Were there any particular outers who complained about you? Ones who ganged up on you and lost you your job?’
‘Not really.’
Her body language gave Troy a different answer but she clearly wasn’t going to reveal any names. ‘Did you work with Brandon Six?’
This time she responded too quickly. ‘Yes.’
Knowing that Brandon had disapproved of a relationship that spanned the two human races, Troy asked, ‘Did you get on with him okay?’
‘There were a lot worse.’
‘Such as?’
‘Almost all of them.’
Troy wondered if Julia’s friendship with Eric Kiss was so repellent to her that it was a motive for murder. ‘How about Julia Nineteen?’
‘The less said about her,’ she growled, ‘the better.’
Troy decided to change tactics. ‘You must have picked up a lot of science – like chemistry – along the way.’
‘I don’t have certificates because schools don’t expect a major to take an interest. They only encourage outers. I did it the hard way. I taught myself.’
‘That’s good. I have to rely on Lexi.’
‘You don’t have to rely on anyone,’ Precious retorted. ‘You can do it yourself.’
‘The thing is,’ Troy said, ‘I like working in a team.’
For a moment, Lexi took over. ‘In the hallway, along with your coats, you’ve got an all-over suit. What’s that for?’
Precious pointed towards the hives in her garden. ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’
‘Ah. You’ve swapped a blue suit for a bee suit.’
‘I sell honey. And,’ she said, ‘a bee suit’s not so sweaty.’
Troy nodded. ‘Okay. That’s it for the moment. You’re not planning to go away anywhere soon, are you?’
‘Why?’
‘We might have more questions.’
‘I don’t know why you should but, no, I don’t have travel plans.’
SCENE 10
Tuesday 15th April, Evening
Saul Tingle seemed to be fixed permanently behind his enormous desk. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat and waved the two detectives towards chairs. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘We won’t keep you long,’ Troy said. ‘We just need to know who complained about Precious Austin’s attitude towards outers.’
Saul sighed. ‘No one in particular. It was a general rebellion.’
Troy shook his head. ‘Doesn’t every mutiny have a ringleader?’
‘The final straw was when Tyla Three and Julia came to see me about her.’
‘A victim and an intended victim,’ Troy pointed out.
‘When a laboratory supervisor advises me that animosity could compromise our operations and safety, I have no option but to act.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I asked Precious to resign.’
‘And she did? She didn’t put up a fight?’
‘I softened the blow with a substantial pay-off,’ Saul admitted.
‘A golden goodbye,’ Troy said with a smile.
‘You could call it that.’
‘Has she been seen near the building since?’
‘Not to the best of my knowledge.’
‘And what was her chemistry like? Any good?’
‘For a major, remarkable.’
‘Thanks,’ said Troy, getting to his feet. ‘Interesting.’
‘Do you think she … ?’
‘She ticks some
boxes. That’s all at this stage.’
‘Detective Goodhart,’ Saul said. ‘You do realize what you’re dealing with here, don’t you?’
Puzzled, Troy replied, ‘I think so.’
There were two drops of moisture on Saul’s brow. ‘Whoever’s got that soil sample, they’re a threat to half the world. We could be looking at the extinction of outers.’
‘I know.’
‘I hope you appreciate the need to resolve it quickly.’
It was Lexi who answered. ‘We’re not stupid, Mr Tingle. And I’m an outer. If my partner needs reminding about the urgency, I’ll take care of it.’
SCENE 11
Tuesday 15th April, Night
Troy watched his grandma’s expert hands as she prepared yet another meal. This time it was a kebab. Thinking of Lexi, he asked, ‘What’s in it, Gran?’
‘Loads of salt for flavour and enough fat to keep you going for days.’
‘Going where?’ he said with a pretend-grimace.
‘Troy! You know what I mean.’
‘Sorry. What’s the meat, though?’
‘It’s lamb. Sometimes with a bit of beef thrown in. Or chicken. Possibly pork as well, but mainly lamb.’
‘Smells good.’ While he crushed the blueberries to make their drinks, Troy said, ‘Gran. Have you ever heard of a separatist group? You know. Majors who want separate schooling, separate sport, separate living I suppose. No mixing with outers.’
‘It used to be the done thing, honey.’
‘Weird.’
‘No one kept lions and lambs in the same pen.’
Troy frowned. ‘People keep different breeds of dog in the same house. No problem.’
‘Nowadays, you young people frown on oldies like me who haven’t moved with the times, who don’t think all this integration is right.’
Troy washed a little lettuce and cucumber to make the meal healthy. ‘But was there an organization that supported separation?’
‘Sure, honey. It was called … something.’
‘What? Can you remember?’
She put down the long sharp knife and began to push the ill-defined meat into two wallets. ‘Apart. That’s right. It was something to do with apart. Yes.’ She crinkled her face for a moment and then smiled. ‘That’s it. Two Races Apart. They called it TRAPT for short.’
‘Thanks, Gran.’
SCENE 12
Tuesday 15th April, Night
Lexi watched her friends. They were chatting happily, nibbling stir-fried scorpions, drinking, making jokes, poking fun at majors. Not a care in the world. They didn’t know that, if her current case went badly, every single one of them could die. She couldn’t tell them. Panic wouldn’t help. For everyone’s sake, she kept the dreadful secret to herself.
If she’d felt able to share the burden, they would have been comforted to hear that she was on the trail of the missing poison, that their future was in her hands. But if she’d told them that their lives also depended on a major, their fear would have been much worse.
‘You’re quiet tonight, Lexi. Is that new partner bugging you?’
‘No.’
‘Sure? Something’s on your mind.’
‘No. He’s … okay. Actually, more than okay.’
The others laughed. ‘You wouldn’t want to trust him with your life, though, would you?’
Lexi hesitated. Even though they didn’t know it, all outers were relying on Troy until the sample of SUMP had been found and made safe. That included Lexi. She shrugged. ‘I don’t get a choice. I have to trust every partner. This one … yeah. If I needed him, I think he’d be there for me.’
‘Really?’
‘What’s more,’ she said, ‘I reckon he’d be there for you if you needed him.’
Her friend laughed. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever need a major.’
‘We’ll see.’
SCENE 13
Wednesday 16th April, Early morning
Troy and Lexi looked up at the grand entrance to the sports stadium, the woman labouring up a long ladder with a high-pressure hose in one hand, and the large sign that should have read,
WELCOME TO THE
INTEGRATED GAMES.
Someone had already been up a ladder and sprayed some bright silver paint so that the announcement had become
WELCOME TO THE
DISINTEGRATED GAMES.
‘Hey,’ Lexi shouted. ‘Detective. Don’t blast the paint off yet. I need a sample.’
Grumbling, the woman lumbered back down the ladder. She gazed at Lexi and then Troy. ‘They’re sending detectives now – not one, but two – to catch kids with a spray can and a dodgy sense of humour?’
When Troy and Lexi were racing to save half of humanity, checking out some reported graffiti seemed like overkill and a waste of valuable time, but the defaced sign may not have been the result of a prank. It could have been the work of a violent separatist group.
‘Did anyone see who did it?’ Troy asked.
‘No.’
As Lexi began to climb with a plastic evidence bag and a small knife, Troy explained, ‘We’re investigating a very serious crime. There’s just a chance this is part of it. Have there been any other … incidents aimed at the Integrated Games?’
‘No one’s died,’ she replied drily.
‘So, there’s been some low-level mischief?’
‘You’d have to ask the stadium workers. I’m just a cleaner. But this isn’t my first job here. I’ve cleared up after other bits of vandalism, mischief or whatever you want to call it.’
Troy and Lexi never got the chance to go inside the sports stadium and talk to the builders. Their life-loggers told them that they were needed urgently by Saul Tingle at Shallow End Laboratories.
SCENE 14
Wednesday 16th April, Morning
The unit director was almost shaking with fury. ‘It arrived in an email at five o’clock this morning,’ he said. ‘I’ve set it up in a conference room – on a big screen.’
‘One step at a time,’ Troy replied. ‘What is it?’
‘You’ll see,’ Saul growled. ‘It’s a video. No sound, just words and pictures.’
Sitting down with the detectives in the conference room, Saul clicked a few keys on his laptop. The screen came alive with a bizarre selection of letters and words in different fonts and sizes, clearly cut-and-pasted from different sources. There was no voice-over. Somehow, the silence made the caption worse.
After twenty long seconds, the movie began. It showed three inquisitive white mice, sniffing at the bars of a cage. The camera had clearly been fixed in a position to give a close-up of the cage and a small section of the shelf in front. There was no background in shot. The focus did not change and the footage did not shake. A gloved hand came into the frame. It placed a still-sealed vial in front of the cage.
At once, Troy asked, ‘Is that yours? The missing one.’
‘Yes. Same type, same label,’ Saul answered.
The hand delivered a bowl of water into the cage and another caption appeared.
Within two minutes, the fidgety mice began to slow down. They looked less interested in what was happening. More restless, less curious. One rolled over twice as if drunk. Two of them collapsed at the same time, after another three minutes.
Troy almost whispered, ‘Any chance this was filmed here – in one of your secure labs?’
‘I don’t recognize the type of cage. I’ll get someone to check it out.’
‘What about the glove?’
Saul shrugged. ‘They all look much the same.’
The third mouse lurched, twitched and jumped. It seemed surprised and utterly bewildered by its own movements. Its eyes bulged. Then, frothing at the mouth, it fell over. Before long, it too died.
The short and creepy film ended not with credits but with a final caption.
‘First demand,’ Troy muttered. ‘There’ll be others.’ He let out a long breath. Turning to Saul Tingle, he asked, ‘Could it have b
een faked?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘The vial wasn’t open. Maybe it was just there for show. Perhaps SUMP didn’t kill the mice. It could have been something else.’
‘Like hydrogen cyanide,’ Lexi suggested. ‘Or some other colourless, poisonous gas.’
Saul shrugged. ‘I suppose so. But what are you going to do?’
Lexi said, ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m pleased to get this.’ She waved towards the screen.
Troy nodded. ‘You like to get your teeth into a clue.’
‘Yeah. Something definite to work on, not just talking to people.’
‘I’ll send you a copy,’ Saul replied. ‘But I meant, what are you going to do about the Integrated Games?’
‘That’s above our heads,’ Troy told him. Putting a hand on his life-logger, he said, ‘It’s already gone to Shepford Crime Central. That’s where the decision will come from. Commander McVeigh. But did you notice there wasn’t an or-else threat?’
‘I think it was implied,’ Saul said. ‘Do what I want or else I’ll release the SUMP.’
‘That’s probably what the powers-that-be will base their decision on.’
‘The games will be cancelled, then,’ said Lexi.
‘Who sent the email?’ Troy asked the unit director.
‘No one I’ve heard of. The address was a random selection of letters.’
‘As far as you know, are any staff here involved in the games?’
‘I don’t … Oh. Yes. I remember a conversation. Eric Kiss, Fern Mountstephen and Julia are Friends of the Integrated Games. I think that means they’ll be stewards. They volunteered. There might be others.’ He shrugged.
‘Have you ever heard of an organization called TRAPT?’
‘No.’
‘Okay. Can you check if the film was made here? It’s down to the type of cage, the shelf it was sitting on, and the glove. And that feeding bowl. Are they all Shallow End equipment?’
‘I’ll see what I can do. Or get hold of someone who can sort it out.’ Saul got up and left.
‘You might as well forget your bit of silver paint,’ Troy said to Lexi.
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because a multiple murderer’s in a different league. Whoever’s prepared to poison every outer isn’t going to risk getting caught by messing around with graffiti.’
‘Huh. The motive’s obvious now. It’s about keeping the human races apart. If your grandma’s right and there’s a separatist organization, the spray painter and the poisoner might both be members. One could lead to the other.’