(2013) Looks Could Kill

by David Ellis

  “Turn around and you’re dead. Open the door and don’t make a fucking sound.”

  She felt hot breath on her neck and smelt the acrid odour of sweat. The sharpness pressed more insistently. Hand shaking, she turned the Yale key and opened the door. Immediately they were inside the hall, Emma’s assailant slammed her face against the wall and her shopping fell on the floor.

  “I’m going to make you pay, you bitch,” he uttered menacingly.

  Just at that moment, the nursery door opened and Emma’s mother-in-law appeared with Daniela in her arms, both wondering what all the noise was. Daniela took one look at her mother’s assailant and let out a blood-curdling scream. Emma turned her head partially to the right and glimpsed the fear in his eyes. Seconds later, he screamed and fell to the floor convulsing. Emma’s security detail burst into the hall, tasers in hand, and they would also have endured Daniela’s wrath if Emma hadn’t scooped her out of her mother-in-law’s hands just in time.

  Fred arrived half-an-hour later to co-ordinate the clean-up. Emma was in the nursery cradling Daniela who seemed blissfully unfazed by the events in the hallway. Fred bent down and gave Emma kiss on the cheek whilst keeping a wary eye on Daniela.

  “I just heard. Are you okay?” Fred asked.

  “I’m fine, really. A bit shocked, obviously. You know that was the accomplice of the man who almost raped me in the park three years ago?”

  “It must have been some grudge that he held against you.”

  “A bit unfair really given that I was cleared of causing my would-be rapist’s death.”

  “I gather than no taser was fired. Was it you that incapacitated him?”

  “I think it was mainly Daniela’s doing, although I might have helped a bit.”

  “Well she’s certainly a chip off the old block: definitely no baptism then.”

  “Definitely not. What will happen to him?”

  “We’ll deal with it. There’s no need for the police to be involved. And trying to explain how a newly-born baby could incapacitate a six-foot man weighing in excess of 80 kg would really be stretching credibility. But at least Mr Armstrong Senior wasn’t involved this time.”

  November 2005

  Emma had got back into the swing of clinical work and the combination of her mother-in-law and the nanny was working well. But everyone was careful not to upset Daniela. The results of the pilot were being analysed and the plan was to submit these to an International Pain Symposium early in 2006 for wider appraisal by her peers.

  Emma’s mobile phone rang. “Emma, Fred here. I’m afraid we have a situation at the London Zoo and we could do with your help. You remember that autistic boy Pablo you met at The Manor? Well he’s currently causing havoc in Gorilla Kingdom.”

  “What! You mean the boy who can control animals?” asked Emma.

  “Yes, a.k.a. Dr Dolittle,” replied Fred. “We’re wondering whether you can find a way of incapacitating him without harming the animals. He’s too far way for tasers to work and we don’t want to use guns.”

  “I suppose I could try. What about that telepathic girl? Is she still in The Manor?”

  “No, but she lives in London. I can try to track her down if you like. Is it okay if a car collects you in about 30 minutes?”

  “I’ll be down at the main entrance.”

  Emma was whisked away to Regents Park through lunchtime traffic quicker than she could ever have imagined. Parked outside the main entrance to the zoo she could see an ambulance, two police cars, a tactical support group emerging from a police van, a fire engine and various TV film crews setting up for filming. Overhead, she could see a helicopter hovering above the main zoo enclosure.

  “Thanks for coming so quickly, Emma,” said Fred. “Let me introduce you to some key people here.” He turned first to someone who looked like a high ranking police officer. “Deputy Commissioner, this is my colleague Dr Emma Jones who works for us on an occasional basis as a medical adviser. She has particular skills in resolving hostage situations with minimum force.”

  “Very good to meet you, Dr Jones,” said the Deputy Commissioner. “We’re hoping we can resolve this speedily, as the eyes of the world are descending on us rather swiftly. I gather that you’ve met the individual in question before.”

  “Yes, at The Manor”, Emma replied. “I was very glad that there was a screen between us and Pablo and his animals: it was pretty frightening.”

  Fred turned to a woman dressed in a smart, two-piece suit with short greying hair. “Deputy Director General, this is Dr Emma Jones whom you’ve been briefed on already.”

  “Delighted to meet you, Emma,” she said with a warm smile, “and congratulations on your new baby – Daniela, I believe – and one set to follow in your footsteps, according to Mr Bannister.”

  “Thank you very much,” said Emma, “but I think nursing might be a safer profession than medicine.”

  The Deputy Director General laughed.

  “Now, Emma,” said Fred, “while we’re waiting for Sonia to arrive, let me brief you about Pablo’s background. His parents were academics who detested the practicalities of caring for a child. They kept him isolated from other children and brought him up on a diet of calculus and not much else. His mathematics ability is off the scale. For most of his teens, they kept him locked in a cellar and the only emotional contact he had was with animals that got into the cellar. One day he managed to get out and the animals went with him. The police were called to the family home after neighbours complained of screams and screeching noises. When they broke down the door, they discovered Pablo standing in the living room with his parents’ bodies torn to shreds and twenty or so cats, dogs and other animals calmly licking blood off their whiskers. Pablo himself didn’t have a trace of blood on him, so it was impossible to pin the crime on him. The animals were taken away to be destroyed. Pablo ended up a ward of court. Numerous psychiatrists have tried to examine him but have come up against a total block. The only time we’ve seen any sort of response is when he’s in the presence of animals, but that was tightly controlled. We thought he was doing reasonably well in his current residential placement but he went AWOL the night before last. The Metropolitan Police were called by the zoo this morning when keepers noticed that he’d got into the gorilla enclosure. When a keeper went in to rescue him, two of the gorillas came charging and he was lucky to escape with some deep scratches. Pablo now seems to be holding court in the enclosure with 10 gorillas sitting around him awaiting his instructions.

  “Why did he choose the gorilla enclosure?” asked Emma.

  “Perhaps he’s trying to prove a point: after all, the male silverback is the ultimate alpha male. If he can control gorillas, he probably thinks he can control any animal or even humans,” replied Fred.

  “What sort of approach were you thinking of? After all, I’m rather restricted to face-to-face encounters.”

  “We’re hoping you might be able to get sufficient line of sight, although he’s some distance away. Perhaps you and Sonia could come up with a combined approach?”

  “That’s what I was thinking, but I’m not quite sure how we would do it. I was thinking along the lines of using her psi energy on the gorillas themselves, as they’re our second-closest ancestor and share 96% of our DNA.”

  Fred noticed Sonia approaching. “Sonia’s here now, let’s make our way to the gorilla enclosure.”

  The scene the confronted them was truly bizarre. Pablo was sitting cross-legged about 20 feet away from the fence and 10 huge gorillas were sitting around him in a tight circle, all staring at him as if mesmerised and not even bothering to scratch themselves. On the other side of the fence, there were at least 20 people lined up against the fence, including police officers, fire crew, paramedics and zoo staff.

  Emma took Sonia to one side. “Good to see you again, Sonia. Have they explained what this is all about?”

  Sonia nodded and Emma sensed “YES!” inside her head at the same time.

  “Hav
e you ever been tried to communicate with Pablo before?” asked Emma.

  “NO! SCARES!” replied Sonia.

  “I understand that, Sonia, but he can’t harm us if we’re behind the fence. What I’d like you to try is just to tell him that we’re his friends. Do you want to try that with me first?”

  Emma sensed “FRIENDS!” in her head and felt the warm intention behind the message, but she doubted that Sonia would be able to communicate that easily to Pablo.

  Emma turned to Fred. “Do you think people could back off a bit so that Pablo doesn’t feel so threatened? What I want to do is to see how Pablo responds to just a simple psi message of ‘FRIENDS’. Once everyone has moved out of the way, perhaps you could just try calling to him and telling him that Sonia and I are here and want to be friends with him.”

  Fred managed to move the onlookers behind an ambulance that had just pulled up at one end of the enclosure. He stood near to the fence and called at Pablo: “Pablo, my name is Fred. You’ve seen me at The Manor. I’ve got Emma and Sonia here. You know Sonia from before. They really want to be friends with you. Can you come to the fence and talk to us?”

  Pablo showed no response to this and continued sitting in the middle of the circle of gorillas. A few of the gorillas responded to Fred’s voice by looking around or showing their teeth but then returned to their previous state of calm anticipation.

  “Okay, Emma and Sonia, over to you,” said Fred.

  “Sonia, I want you to do exactly what you did with me and send Pablo a nice, warm ‘FRIENDS!’ message.”

  Emma noticed Sonia screwing up her face in concentration, which she didn’t think boded well for good communication with someone like Pablo. Emma wasn’t exactly surprised by what happened next, but along with the onlookers and the helicopter overhead, she was seriously shocked. Pablo uttered a single, guttural barking sound, and all 10 gorillas charged, screeching loudly, showing their teeth, and threw their massive, combined weight against the fence. Just when it appeared that the fence was going to give way, Pablo uttered another command and they all returned to their original, peaceful starting positions, sitting on the ground and looking at Pablo.

  “Any other ideas?” asked Fred, looking as stunned as everyone else.

  “It’s a long shot, but I’ve an idea,” said Emma. “I suspect Pablo’s autism makes his brain pretty impenetrable for Sonia, so the less developed gorilla brain may be more amenable to psi energy, but we’ll need to tailor communication to what a primitive brain can process. I think using basic emotions might work better, and if I can work with Sonia to boost her psi energy, we might be able to break the hold that Pablo has on the gorillas. There’s a region of the brain called the frontoinsular cortex involved in the processing of emotions, so I’m going to try and help Sonia target that area.” Emma turned to Sonia. “Sonia, I want you to communicate emotions like warmth, happiness and goodness – but more as feelings than words – to all the gorillas rather than focusing on one in particular. While you’re doing that, I’ll be looking into your eyes and helping you to focus on a particular part of their brains.”

  “Any dissention from that plan?” asked Fred, addressing the crowd of onlookers.

  “Do we have dart guns available if this fails?” asked the MI5 Deputy Director General.

  “Yes, they’re all lined up,” said the zoo’s head vet, “although I don’t fancy our chances with 10 angry gorillas.”

  “Well, I recommend that everyone stays behind shields,” said the Deputy Commissioner.

  “I think it’s a go,” said Fred to Emma and Sonia. “Best of luck.”

  Emma and Sonia stood about two feet apart facing each other and side on to the fence.

  “Ready?” asked Emma.

  “YES!” came the reply.

  As Sonia started to generate psi energy, Emma stared into Sonia’s eyes, traversing along the optic nerve to the visual cortex and via projections to the frontoinsular cortex. She absorbed the emotions and allowed them to flow back and forth to her own brain, amplifying them and focusing them. “Now!” she said softly.

  Onlookers noticed Sonia’s expression transformed into something almost angelic and they felt waves of emotion that warmed them even on a cold November day. At the same time, they noticed a cloud of butterflies descending, settling over Pablo and the gorillas, their fluttering creating a ghostly, flickering veil over the enclosure. Slowly, one by one, the gorillas stood up, looked around as if bemused by all the attention, and left Pablo to resume their usual care-free routines of scratching and grooming. Pablo then slowly stood up, and holding his head in his hands, walked to the fence where he was escorted through by keepers. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he said to Emma and Sonia, putting his arms around them and sobbing uncontrollably. The onlookers burst into spontaneous applause.

  ***

  The news about the situation at London Zoo broke at lunchtime and remained the top story for a solid 24 hours. Video shot from the helicopter made dramatic footage and large sums of money changed hands for exclusive rights to air it. The two outstanding moments were when the gorillas charged en masse at the fence and when the butterflies descended into the enclosure. Journalists hastily checked their lexicons for the correct collective noun for a group of butterflies and discovered that ‘flight’, ‘swarm’, ‘rabble’ and ‘kaleidoscope’ were all used. All plumped for the latter as it summed up something that was rather extraordinary and mysterious. The two faces that appeared in news reports were those of Emma, on account of her photogenic features, and Pablo, because he looked strange. Emma was introduced simply as an expert in conflict resolution.

  Headlines included ‘BEAUTY AND THE BEASTS’ and ‘GOING APE AT THE ZOO’. The Metropolitan Police and MI5 concocted a story along the lines of an autistic boy leaving his accommodation in search of animals that would befriend him. Animal psychologists chipped in with theories about the gorillas protecting him because of the silver patch in his hair which resembled a male silverback. No-one could quite explain why the butterflies appeared, but then someone found Emma’s CV on-line which mentioned her keen interest in lepidoptery and it was assumed that this was the explanation for the visitation. Lepidoptery suddenly became a household word and shops sold out of butterfly nets and killing jars. Only the onlookers who had experienced first-hand the interaction between Emma and Sonia knew the real explanation for what happened and they remained under a gagging order.

  November 2005, one week later

  Emma had brought forward her annual job planning meeting with the Medical Director, Dr Michael Martin. She caught him surreptitiously puffing on his pipe out of the window as she entered his office.

  “How come the smoke detector didn’t go off?” she asked.

  “I removed the batteries,” he replied. He left the pipe on the window sill, closed the window, and leant back in his chair. “Well, Emma, it’s been hard to find a TV channel that’s not been proclaiming your virtues. I suppose it’ll be breakfast TV next.”

  “They asked, but I declined talking about butterflies on the red sofa. They tried interviewing Pablo, though, but didn’t get very far. It’s a good thing they didn’t bring cats and dogs into the studio as the person trying to interview him could have got torn to shreds.”

  “They bought the story about him going looking for furry friends, then?”

  “Hook, line and sinker, it would seem. No-one seems to have spoken to anyone who was actually at the zoo.”

  “Have you seen the helicopter video?”

  “Yes. Rather surreal I thought. It would have been hard to explain the resolution of the standoff if the butterflies hadn’t descended into the enclosure.”

  “Was that you as well?”

  “Probably; butterflies respond to UV light and they must have been attracted to my eyes.”

  “It’s all a bit above me, you know.”

  “Me too, but I guess I’ve got to live with it.”

  “So, you’re here to ask for a sabbatical?�
��

  “That’s the idea although I’m not sure where it’ll take me.”

  “To far and distant lands, if MI5 have their way, I’d imagine.”

  “Not if Daniela has a say in the matter.”

  “We’ll miss you. You’re a damn fine doctor.”

  “Thanks, Michael. That means a lot to me.”

  “Your office will be ready and waiting for your return. By the way, I don’t suppose you can resurrect frozen gerbils. My kids simply won’t accept replacements.”

  “Not at the moment, but I could always add that to my personal development plan for next year.”

  Michael laughed. “Well, goodbye for now, Emma. And very best of luck.”

  Michael saw Emma to the door. He opened the window and relit his pipe. He pondered on their conversation. Emma was a fine doctor but she was naïve. And like good soldiers turning rogue that could also happen to doctors. He knew Fred Bannister from the Territorial Army and trusted him, but he wasn’t so sure about his bosses in MI5. Emma had a gift and MI5 would milk it for all its worth. He’d need to keep a close watch on her, sabbatical or not.

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I’d like to thank my husband Henry Andrews for all his support during the gestation of this novel. He and my sister Vivien Hunot read the first draft and somehow made enough encouraging noises to keep me going through subsequent revisions. I’m also grateful for the professional opinion and advice given by Max Pemberton and Celia Hayley which helped greatly in sorting out the novel’s rather meandering construction and in separating the wheat from the chaff. Nisha Shah made helpful comments about child development and medical matters, but I take responsibility for any medical errors in the text.