Going Underground (Jonathan Roper Investigates Book 1)

by Michael Leese

  “Have you got anything we can work with yet, or something I can get people to start looking into?” Hooley was suddenly anxious to get on, he hadn’t realised how much time he had spent watching Roper working.

  “Actually there are two companies I think we should go and have a look at.”

  Hooley rubbed his hands together in anticipation of getting back on the hunt. A bit of action, that was more like it. He hated sitting around.

  42

  DF Pharmaceuticals wasn’t anything like Hooley had been expecting. He’d fixed the appointment yesterday and now they were slightly early for the agreed time of 10.30am which meant he had time to look around. So far he was disappointed. He’d been hoping for something a bit ‘Sci-Fi’ with white-coated scientists peering into micro-scopes and machines with glowing lights and bright displays of information cascading down computer screens. Instead he and Roper were in an undistinguished glass clad tower off the Euston Road, close to Great Portland Street and the Portland Hospital for children. Inside the double glazing muted the traffic noise to a low rumble. They might have been anywhere. The decor was of the type that looked bought by the yard with shiny, dark-marble flooring and muted colour schemes highlighted by contemporary chandeliers. They approached three black suited receptionists, arranged in a row behind a high reception desk, the middle one of whom directed them to a row of black-leather settees. Through the tinted glass of the windows they watched the street scene outside.

  On the journey this morning Hooley had been surprised at what a bright mood Roper was in. He was almost ‘chatty,’ even offering a brief observation about the weather, which was noticeably humid, rather than his normal exclusive focus on the task ahead. Just as the older man wasn’t good at inaction, so Roper became impatient over social interaction. He had once confessed to Hooley that he couldn’t see the point of asking people ‘how are you?’ since everyone always replied they were fine, even if they weren’t. The DCI could see his point and tended to the view of ‘only speak when you have something worth listening to.’ This approach meant the pair of them had occasionally gone through most of a day without exchanging a word.

  Their brief wait ended with the arrival of a man who introduced himself as David Jones. He was so fresh-faced he made Roper look a little ancient. Following his lead they took the lift to the fourth floor, emerging into a carpeted lobby area. In front of them were security-protected doors which Jones accessed by swiping a card dangling from a lanyard around his neck. They walked into an open plan office packed full of desks. To Hooley’s continuing disappointment there were still no machines. Instead Lab-coated men and women sat at every desk concentrating on their computer screens. Compared to a busy police squad room, the office seemed strangely quiet; no one paid them any attention as their guide waved his arm around the room.

  “Our company was founded five years ago and has been doing very well. Under David Francis’s guidance we have grown and expanded and have more than 30 people working here. But this is a fast moving field. New start-ups are being formed all the time, some with just a couple of people.

  “Our philosophy is to keep pushing ahead, not recklessly, but let’s see where we can go while maintaining control. In this field it can be too easy to make mistakes so we are constantly checking and rechecking everything we do. That’s the process you can see here.”

  Hooley wasn’t sure what he could see and hoped Roper was doing better. As they walked across the room he saw the younger man was looking around, taking in every single detail.

  “Was DF Pharmaceuticals spun-out of a university?” Roper asked.

  “That’s right. David was working on a lung cancer cure while he was at Imperial College. Once it was clear there was potential he set up the company but kept his links with the university. That way information, expertise and money gets shared around which is to everyone’s benefit.”

  Hooley waited for a follow-up question but Roper seemed happy enough. A short corridor opened onto a large corner office with a view of the Post Office Tower. Sitting at a desk was a man about Roper’s age. He was wearing glasses and was finishing off a telephone conversation, standing up as he ended the call. He was as slender as Roper but a good five inches shorter and his dark hair was showing the first hints of grey.

  They raced through introductions then Francis was leading them back out of the door. Hooley smiled to himself as he watched the scientist moving with the same air of urgent energy that Roper often displayed; like someone who begrudged the time taken to reach the next destination. They followed a back corridor finally arriving at more security-controlled doors behind which was, to Hooley’s eyes, something a bit more like it. Francis opened the door and walked in. Roper followed him then stopped so suddenly he might have walked into something.

  “What’s that smell?’ he asked, one hand grabbing the door frame for support and the other pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He went so white that Hooley worried that he might actually be sick.

  Francis grinned at him in a knowing way.

  “I hadn’t realised you were a ‘lab virgin’ or I would have warned you. I call it the ‘cell smell’. As you probably know a lot of our work needs large amounts of cell material and it all needs to be stored in appropriate chemicals to keep it in good condition. Some people with very a very sensitive sense of smell react like you do, but don’t worry, you do get used to it.”

  Hooley could also detect it now. To him it smelled part hospital ward and part the odour you got from a crowded squad room on a warm day. Not pleasant but he could cope. Roper made a visible effort to overcome the odour and entered. Now that he could get closer Hooley was struck by how scruffy it was. There was a hint of Heath Robinson about one of the constructions with silver sealant-tape used as binding on rubber tubes that were in turn connected to a variety of battered looking machines.

  “Forget the Hollywood dream lab, all pristine technology,” said Francis. “Some of the best work in our field is done by people who create their own devices out of anything they can beg, borrow or steal. What you’re looking at here is the work of my best researcher. In fact she’s one of the best in the world in her field of cell regeneration.”

  Roper looked around and turned to Francis.

  “Will we get a chance to meet your researcher?”

  The lab boss suddenly looked more serious.

  “It’s a funny thing but I haven’t seen Tricia since last night. We spoke about you coming and she was eager to help. It’s not like her at all.”

  43

  The moment Francis had revealed his researcher hadn’t turned up for work Roper had instantly demanded they leave. Now he and the DCI were outside her home, banging on the door and ringing the bell. Roper bent down to peer through the letter box.

  “I can see a bunch of keys on a shelf in the hall way. Why would keys be inside if she’s not there?”

  Hooley also looked inside and then shook his head, there were a couple of answers, some better than others.

  “We know that she lives alone, so they’re not someone else’s. It looks like you were right to be worried, which means we need to get in there. I’ve got a crowbar in the car that should get the front door open.”

  He returned and handed Roper white protective overshoes and blue gloves. Then the |DCI insisted on knocking again, along with a final call to her phone, before he easily forced the lock

  “Stay close,” Hooley ordered as they walked in to begin a careful search of the house. Reaching the top floor what little hope they had evaporated. Roper walked into the bathroom and picked up a towel that had been dumped on the floor.

  “This is quite damp. I’d say she had a shower fairly recently, but I can’t be specific; it may have been this morning or last night.”

  A frustrated Hooley shook his head at the lack of clues other than the obvious fact that Tricia Williams was missing.

  “If it wasn’t for the fact that she didn’t show up for work this morning we’d have no
grounds for suspicion, but I have to admit that you have got me worried now. What made you think there might be something wrong?”

  “Do you recall Francis saying that Tricia Williams was working on some new theories about longevity and regeneration?”

  He looked doubtful. “I do recall some sort of conversation along those lines but I didn’t take it in properly. If I’m honest that sort of stuff takes me out of my comfort zone.” He didn’t add that he relied on the younger man to deal with complex subjects.

  Roper explained. “All the companies we found on the computer in Sir James’s secret room were looking at different aspects of extending life. One was looking at starfish because they have amazing properties of regeneration.”

  Hooley interrupted.

  “This helps how?”

  “The Rainbow Spectrum. David Francis said Tricia was one of the world’s experts on regeneration theories. When I assigned that information to the Rainbow Spectrum I could see there were links to other files I have put in there, including to Sir James Taylor and his murder.”

  Hooley took a step back, his brow furrowed. “Are you suggesting she had some part in killing him, or knew something about it?”

  Now it was Roper’s turn to look puzzled. “No, not at all. I don’t think she is a killer, but we are going to find that her research had something to do with it. I can see that a link exists but I can’t see how. There’s another bit of information which backs up what I am saying. Do you recall that David Francis said she was eager to speak to us? Why would she want to do that unless there was something troubling her?”

  “Even if I was entirely sure what you’re talking about, you’re asking me to place an awful lot of faith in this Rainbow of yours,” said Hooley.

  Roper was about to reply but the DCI cut him off by reaching out and gently holding his arm. “Let me finish. I’m not saying you are wrong but it is taking a while for me to understand how you are looking at things.” He paused and smiled at Roper. “Not all of us are blessed with a brain the size of a planet so you’re just going to have to put up with those stuck in the slow lane.”

  He added. “I like where you’re going but we also need to keep other options in mind. Maybe she’s had a row with a boyfriend and couldn’t face coming to work.” Roper looked dubious and Hooley held up his hand. “That may not be the best example. I’m just trying to keep all the options open.”

  He looked around, marshalling his thoughts. “Francis mentioned something about her family having a lot of money so this might be a kidnapping. You may be right but until we know for sure I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t think about other lines of inquiry.”

  Roper was looking at him intently. “I’m sure about this Brian. I think the people we are looking for have taken her because she started asking questions. I also think that Francis has some sort of connection, but I don’t know what. Maybe he knows the people behind her disappearance.”

  Hooley had heard enough and pulled his phone out of his pocket to call the office.

  “I’ll get a team organised and you can forward that picture of Tricia Williams which Francis emailed to you. Once that is done you and I can get the door-to-door under way, at least until we get some more officers down here. If she was taken from the house - by whomever - then surely someone saw something.”

  He paused. “I also need a Scenes of Crime team in the house to see what evidence they can find of anyone else being in there. It doesn’t look to me like someone has been clearing up blood stains, but you never know.”

  Orders issued Hooley and Roper began knocking on doors. The first twenty minutes proved frustrating as either no one was home or had seen anything. They were working their way down the opposite side of the street and reached a house almost facing Tricia’s property. The owner, a bearded man in his 40’s, said he had seen her leaving at about 6pm the previous evening.

  “It was a bit after the headlines for the Six pm news. I don’t really know her apart from saying hello. She was with a man with a shaved head and it’s the first time I have ever seen her with anyone so I was sort of surprised for a minute. They got into a blue car, I think it was a Ford, and drove off.”

  “Did she look worried or did you get the impression she might have been doing it against her will.” asked Hooley.

  The man shook his head.

  “I only saw them for a moment really and I couldn’t see her face. I think he may have been holding her arm, but I might be wrong.”

  They left him with telephone numbers to call if he remembered anything else. As they walked away two detectives arrived and Hooley handed over to them. After briefing them he added. “I think we can be pretty certain that she was taken, we just don’t know why yet, or where she’s gone. I want to be to be sure we get every single person who lives here; I imagine you may have to wait until tonight when people get back from work. Let me know the moment anything comes up.”

  44

  Julie Mayweather couldn’t keep the concern from her face as Hooley and Roper ran through the disappearance of Tricia Williams.

  “These people must control serious resources,” she said. “Their ruthlessness is bad enough, but being able to make so many different moves is equally worrying. And now you are telling me that it is almost certain Miss Williams was kidnapped. We all know that kidnapping turns to murder more often than not, especially the longer things go on, and we already know these people are killers.”

  Hooley's face went darker as he responded. Williams reminded him of his own daughter who wanted to become a scientific researcher. He was finding the similarities unpleasantly close.

  “I managed to speak to the father a short while ago. We’ll have a team in place very soon and we are already monitoring his land line, but if they do make contact I imagine it will be untraceable. He runs his own management consultancy working with banks and blue chip financial companies so he is making it clear that he is prepared to meet any financial demands to get his daughter back. I’ve not got into an argument with him, but there is a psychologist on the way so hopefully she should be able to explain all the issues to him. I don’t want to see him part with money and she still gets killed.”

  Hooley glanced over at Roper. “But Jonathan is sure this isn’t about a kidnapping for financial gain. He believes it is to do with her becoming concerned about some aspect of the work she is involved in.”

  Mayweather looked at both men in turn. “So why don’t we pick up David Francis and see what he has got so say for himself. He seems a very plausible suspect.”

  “I’ve been giving that some very serious thought,” said Hooley. “The problem is we only have Jonathan’s Rainbow Spectrum to go on at the moment. So I’m wondering if we put him under surveillance for a moment.”

  “But doesn’t that mean we are taking a terrific risk with Ms William’s safety?” demanded Mayweather.

  Hooley held up both hands. “Believe me I have thought about little else, but Jonathan is adamant that we have a little time. He says that his Rainbow Spectrum is telling him that she is much more valuable alive than dead.”

  Mayweather studied Roper for a moment. “Is there anything you want to add?”

  He nodded. “I think we can expect a ransom demand fairly soon. They’ll want us to think this is all about money so we can’t tell what they are really up to, but actually they want her for something specific to do with the work she is involved in. Maybe she has to recreate an experiment. As I understand it a big part of this type of work is getting experiments to react the same way every time.”

  He screwed his eyes tight, clearly thinking hard. “What if they think they may need her to make something work properly? It could be they’ve taken her because they thought they could do something without her but now know that’s not possible. She’s a leader in a field of work that is totally new.”

  Mayweather hadn’t taken her eyes off him. He was asking them to go out on a limb and she wanted to be sure he was on top of his game. “I
s there any way you can find out what she is working on?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Roper. “David Francis told us this morning that she was involved in such advanced research that he didn’t have a complete overview of. He claimed that if she had to stop and refer upwards at every stage it would just waste time for both of them. They only need to talk when she has something definite; good or bad.”

  Mayweather steepled her hands in front of her face, clearly deep in concentration. The silence went on for a short while then she said. “OK. For now we maintain a watching brief. But I want this to be under constant review and I want eyes on this David Francis at all times.”

  The two men made to leave but she had news of her own. “I assume that you two have still got your SAS friends in tow?”

  Hooley looked mildly embarrassed. He’d been teased by the rest of the squad over suddenly needing a ‘baby-sitter’.

  “They pick us up from the flat and escort us home again. They’re still of the view that no one would try anything while we’re here, or even during normal working hours. They reckon that the time of maximum danger is when we go home. At least it means they are not hanging round us all day.”

  Mayweather nodded her approval. “Let me know if there is any change in those arrangements. I’ve also spoken to your wife and she is prepared to put up with her guards, at least for now. On that subject, you’re aware that I spoke to the Commissioner to express my concerns over what happened to Jonathan?”

  “This time he was listening and agreed to launch a very sensitive internal inquiry to see if anyone at the Met has been digging around in your personal files. If there is a mole I want them found as soon as possible. I’ll let you know when we get anything.”

  45