The two Professors supported the last point and nodded at each other in recognition of the good sense of the suggestion. The Inspector surprised everyone by saying “And do you think, from what you have seen so far, that there is any chance that Professor Gordon set out to murder or do away with Tom Brooker?” The forensic team leader knew that the question should not have been asked in front of the principal suspect but answered none the less. “There is a chance, Inspector, but until we identify the owner of the toe we don’t know who the victim might be. It could still be a hoax or an elaborate deception.”
Professor McClean did not like the Inspector’s question being asked in front of James Gordon. “Inspector, I think that Professor Gordon’s sensitivities should be respected. He is clearly innocent and I think that we should try and repeat the experiment that has supposedly caused the disappearance of Tom Brooker.” The Inspector agreed but said that he would prefer to wait until the following day. Professor McClean countered by stating that he had to return to London in time for a 10 am meeting with a visiting Cabinet Minister. “Can we give it a go now, Inspector?” he asked. “Very well, let me just let the forensics team get away.” The Inspector had a quiet chat with the two man team and asked them to try and have some early results, preferably by Monday morning if that could be achieved. They thought that the timeframe would be tight, but a telephone call by the Inspector to their boss could make all the difference. The call was made and the Inspector resumed his discussion with the two professors.
“Can you make this thing work without Tom Brooker?” Professor McClean asked Professor Gordon. “I think so. Nothing has been switched off and so the data set will be loaded. I think all that I need to do is reset the power supplies and do a Purge.” The other two looked on whilst he pressed the relevant buttons. This time he took great care when he selected the Purge option on the main computer screen. “What shall we put in the machine?” asked Professor McClean. There then began a philosophical discussion between the two professors as to whether it would be appropriate to put the fourth D23 in the machine. They were worried that if they put something else in the Beast, how could they be sure that it was being sent back in time. The Inspector began to lose his patience. “Gentlemen, can we just see what happens to anything placed in the apparatus. Put the bloody tea pot in or this half eaten sandwich. I don’t care.”
The two professors looked at each other and McClean spoke first. “Quite so, Inspector. What you really do need to realise is the total paradox if we were to put this particular D23 in the machine. The one we have here has, we assume, travelled in time to a point three years ago. If we were to put this actual one in the machine and send it back then it could not exist in time beyond today. What James and I believe is that either the D23 has already been sent back or, if that is not the case, there are two identical D23s number four, here right now. We are not prepared to put the one the Quartermaster brought here in that machine.”
“Well, I don’t understand any of that logic, but I accept what you say. But now can we put something in there and see what happens.” The Inspector was still irritated and the professors quickly settled on a wind-up torch from Tom’s tool box. It was duly placed in the Beast and the Run option selected on the main computer screen. The three onlookers watched the torch inside the Beast. They heard the power supply fans kick in as full power was reached and they waited for the fifteen minutes of the test run. Nothing had happened and the torch was still where it had been placed. The two professors grunted at each other and it was left to the Inspector to initiate the discussion. “So what now, James? What should I read from this? Did this contraption of yours work as it did when you say that Tom disappeared?”
Professor Gordon looked crestfallen. Not only had a perfectly reasonable experiment failed to progress as he had expected, but it had been witnessed by a more senior and eminent professor from his own university. “I need to just think this through Brian. Give me a couple of minutes,” he said. Meanwhile Professor McClean did not hide his scepticism. “I think you need to put a little more thought into the possibility that this is a put-up job. How do you know that this Brooker fellow of yours is not sitting in a back room of the Russian Embassy sipping vodka?” He delivered these words whilst a sense of schadenfreude flowed mischievously through his body. “and that Quartermaster chap could be in it with him.”
The Inspector surprised himself by coming to Professor Gordon’s defence. “Although what you say is plausible Martin, I think it highly unlikely. I know this young man quite well and he strikes me as being a good sort.” Now it was Professor Gordon’s turn to enter the debate. “I thought that you only met Tom that one time when he was just starting this job.” The Inspector had to cover his tracks. “Ah, but I have had to read through all of his vetting papers and the notes made from the interviews with his referees. In my job you do get a nose for people’s characters.” Professor McClean challenged the Inspector’s view of Tom Brooker. “There are countless spies in our nation’s history who have managed to hoodwink their closest colleagues so I think that this young man is a long way from being beyond suspicion.” He paused, then added. “I think I should return to London now, James. Inspector, is that all right with you? I don’t think that I can help out any more. I will leave the spy catching to you.” He was on his way back to London within fifteen minutes.
Spies, lies and disappearing tricks were all the Inspector could think of after the departure of Professor McClean. He wondered about the Quartermaster. He was probably close to retirement and everyone knew that military pensions were not overly generous. Maybe what McClean had said made some sense. He also knew that Tom had been living with a known rogue for several years. Maybe Angus Merchant was trying to improve his own pension. No, no, no. Tom was the one who had been so forthcoming with information about his landlord. Why would he do that if he were in league with him? Ah, but suppose that Merchant had recruited Tom after he had passed on the information about his landlord. Perhaps he could be guilty after all. Was the information available to Tom, mature enough to command a high price from a failed super power? But just suppose there was some scientific jiggery pokery actually happening. That would be the biggest discovery ever. Now that would excite any and every other nation on Earth. Whatever the truth, the Inspector knew that he had to brief his boss straight away.
He was able to establish a secure connection using his mobile phone. He quickly briefed him on what had happened at Larkhill Camp. Their joint concern was for the protection of the national interest which meant keeping the whole thing secret. The Inspector was ordered to remain in Larkhill until the necessary measures could be put in place. He was instructed to gather together everyone who had entered the Dagger building over the last 24 hours and ‘read them in’. In other words everyone would be required to sign the Official Secrets Act and be briefed that disclosure of anything that they had seen in the Dagger building would lead to a term of imprisonment. He was also told to have a written report on his boss’s desk by Friday lunchtime. How he hated such deadlines. He was also told to keep the whole business out of the hands of both the military and civilian police as he wanted everything under the control of Special Branch. He made another call to his office and told Steve Howson to cancel the uniformed police involvement, then to make his way to Larkhill as soon as possible, and to bring any records that they might have on the Quartermaster. “Oh and Steve, please go via my house and ask Rachael for some shirts and underpants.” He then asked the Professor for the contact details of the computer expert, Peter Boyde.
The Professor’s mobile phone rang. He found it under the pile of computer print-outs on the bench and had a brief conversation with Alison. He turned to the Inspector. “My wife is in Durrington, but she has no key to the house. Can I go there on my own or do we have to go together?” The Inspector had a quick look around at the inside of the Dagger building. “I think that we can lock this place for the night, James. I need to sit down and make about a dozen telep
hone calls and then type up the outline of my report. I am without transport so I think that like it or not we are stuck with each other.”
The Dagger building was secured and they drove to the house in Durrington. Alison was sitting in the front passenger seat of an unmarked police car parked in the street, next to the house. As the Professor’s car pulled into the driveway both Alison and her driver got out of the car. The Professor almost ran to her side and gave her a big hug. “Darling, this is an awful mess I am afraid. None of us know quite what has happened to young Tom. He can’t be found.” He took Alison’s overnight bag which the police driver had taken from the back seat. The Inspector had a few words with the driver who then drove away. He introduced himself to Alison Gordon. “Mrs Gordon, I am Inspector Morton-Farrell. Please call me Brian. James and I have worked together for several years and I have come down to help solve this little mystery. Perhaps if we go inside I will give you a more detailed description of the problems that we face.”
They went inside and after a short delay for a trip to the bathroom and the brewing of tea they sat down in the sitting room. The Inspector set the scene, but first he cautioned Alison that the whole matter was very sensitive. She had already insisted on being called by her first name. “Nobody can say what might have become of Tom Brooker. He may be the victim or even the perpetrator of a crime or just have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps you could both tell me a little more about our missing person.” So they sat for nearly half an hour whilst the tea was drunk and Tom Brooker’s character was laid bare.
Alison turned to her husband. “James darling, did you tell Brian about the business with his landlord?” The Professor had not intended complicating matters at this stage with what he considered to be an unfortunate nuisance. However, now that Alison had brought the matter up, he told the whole story. Initially the Inspector just listened and gave no hint that he had any idea of the background. He was fascinated to learn that the Professor was the bastard child and this was the first time that he had heard about the maroon notebooks. He wondered just how much MI5 knew. “Do you think that there is any way that Tom is being put under any pressure by his landlord?” the Inspector asked. Both Alison and the Professor shook their heads. “I really don’t think so.” said the Professor.
“Are you aware that Tom had been cautioned over an alleged assault case? He was very lucky not to go to court apparently.” The Gordons were surprised. “That sounds so out of character,” said Alison. “Do you think that Tom could be so worried about you or Imperial College finding out that he would be susceptible to blackmail?” The Professor suddenly realised that this charming young man may have been subverted by the dreadful drunken landlord just to make money from the story. But there was a further complication.
“Did Tom have any contact with the Quartermaster other than when the two of you were together?” the Inspector asked the Professor. “Well yes. He had to go to the Quartermaster’s office several times. It was all to do with the Dagger building, oh and the extra furniture that was provided, not that we needed it all. I didn’t think that it was out of the ordinary at the time.” The Inspector had found out enough and he had a number of telephone calls to make.
It was nearly 9 pm when Alison announced that supper was ready. She had walked to the pub with her husband and asked them to put three of their more sustaining meals into suitable containers to take back to the house. After a quick blast in the microwave, the meals were put onto warm plates and they sat down to a delicious taste of English pub food. There was no enthusiasm for any small talk or topical discussion over supper. Both Alison and James Gordon were deeply upset by the disappearance of Tom Brooker. Several times Alison said how she just could not believe that Tom would betray their trust even if his job was at stake. The Inspector did his best to reassure them that there had to be a simpler and hopefully, a happier explanation. The Inspector had earlier made arrangements to be contacted if any hospitals in either the London area or the South West treated a young man with part of his big toe missing. No such call came.
Breakfast was a little cheerier than supper the night before. The Professor still looked fatigued but he seemed happier having Alison close by. They only had one car between them and so Alison was to run them to Larkhill Camp and she would then do some much needed shopping. “I don’t know how you boys can drift from day to day without a decent meal and clean clothes.” The latter sentiment may or may not have been aimed at the Inspector who had arrived two days earlier with just his emergency wash kit. He had used his tiny nail brush to scrub his collar clean with soap before going to bed the night before. “One of my chaps is on his way down this morning and he should be in an official car so that should ease the travel arrangements,” he assured Alison. “Does he need to be put up here Brian?” she asked. “No. That’s very kind. He may be only here for the day,” he said, despite expecting him to be here for at least a week. The Inspector did not want the Gordons’ hospitality to be abused and it would be far more useful if Steve Howson could be put up in the Camp in order to have some eyes and ears closer to the Quartermaster and his staff.
As the Professor and Inspector were getting out of the car, Alison said something that the Inspector thought was completely out of character. “James, this is all your fault. You have to get that darling boy back. Do you understand?” She drove off without waiting for a reply. “Is everything okay, James?” the Inspector enquired. “She’s under a lot of strain. She doesn’t do stress very well I’m afraid. We sat up most of last night and if we don’t find Tom alive and well, I know that she will never forgive me. She thinks that he is the nearest thing to a son that she could ever have and,” his voice was a little shaky, “and I feel exactly the same way.” The Inspector was not sure what to say and opted for the easy option; he said nothing.
Steve Howson was waiting in his car outside the Dagger building. “You are nice and early Steve, well done.” The Inspector introduced him to the Professor, who had managed to regain some composure. They walked passed the two young sentries, who made no effort to challenge them, and then on into the building. The Professor wanted to go through the computer records from the day of the incident, in case there were any other setting variations that he could try to replicate in order to get the Beast to perform its supposed “trick” again. This gave the Inspector the opportunity to have a long discussion with his junior colleague. Steve produced some benign notes about the Quartermaster, with nothing worse than a speeding ticket and 3 points on his driving licence. He had spoken to the forensic department and they had promised to pull out all the stops to get at least some of the analysis done in time for the report. The Inspector gave Steve a number of tasks to do, “Chase the forensics.” “Contact the computer chap and ask about the fourth sensor.” “See if the Quartermaster can book you into accommodation on Camp.” “Inform the Adjutant that he can stand down the two sentries outside. They are a total waste of time.” “Oh, and please get my computer onto the internet.”
The Professor was working as fast as he could. A psychologist would say that he was in a driven state. His hands were shaking as he went through the many pages of parameter settings that he had printed off. After half an hour he had established that the same parameter set was loaded as that used on the day of Tom’s disappearance. He had done one Purge routine followed by a Run with no effect whatsoever. The Inspector sat on a high stool using one of the chests of drawers as a desk top. He was going through his written notes and entering more detail into the report on his notebook computer. After a while he decided to check the Professor’s progress.
“How are you getting on James?” he asked. “There must be something different about the setup that stopped the effect happening on the last run but I just can’t see what.” The Professor was still puzzled. The Inspector had just re-read some notes that he had made two days earlier. “You said the day before yesterday that Tom was inside the Beast when he called to you to do…,” he glanced down at h
is notebook, “…a Purge. Forgive my ignorance but didn’t you do a Purge just before that last trial run?” The Professor smiled for the first time that day. “Of course, I accidentally initiated a Run rather than a Purge. You are a very good detective Brian. I think we should do another run straight away without the Purge.”
The torch was still sitting on the round floor of the Beast. The Professor selected the Run command. The power supplies sang their chorus, and almost as soon as the test had begun, the computer terminal beeped and the flashing alarm was on the screen – just as it had been after Tom had disappeared. They cautiously peered into the Beast. The torch was not there. They looked all around the Beast, in case it had been moved sideways, and then concluded that it had indeed vanished. Steve was aware of the achievement and joined the other two who were still staring at the Beast. “What now Brian?” asked the Professor. “I’m not sure. Is this sufficient evidence in your mind that this contraption can make things go back in time?” The Inspector wanted to get his report emailed to his boss within the hour but he needed to know what the science behind the disappearances might mean in layman’s terms. The Professor sat down. The Inspector caught Steve’s eye and mimed taking a sip from an imaginary cup of tea.
“I don’t know what Professor McClean would say. He probably still thinks that all of this is some form of trick. Well it’s not. I cannot for one minute explain what we have seen to the standard that a school physics class would accept, let alone with the rigour McClean or the Royal Society would demand.” The Professor was still deeply affected by what had happened and was far from being himself. “If Tom had arranged some form of disappearing act then how does that account for that torch vanishing? I know that this makes me guilty of pressing the wrong button and sealing his fate but I am coming to the conclusion that the action of the Beast has made Tom disappear.” The Inspector wanted some clarification so that he could complete his report. “Do you think that it is some form of time travel?” The Professor seemed to be visibly ageing as he allowed his shoulders to droop and his posture to slouch on the chair. His face was ashen. “The only evidence of time travel has come from the Quartermaster’s safe. Did someone find a torch three years ago and then not report it? Maybe we should do a survey with some radioactive detection equipment. Then if there is a positive result we know that we must put a radioactive tracer into the Beast and make it disappear. Don’t you see, we are in a total quandary?”
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