Dominus

Robert Paisley

Published: 2011
Tag(s): "Science fiction"

                                           Copyright © Robert Paisley 2010

DOMINUS

Transitive Verb, Latin, - Lord, Master, To rule, Control, Sway, To command.

PROLOGUE

A blue white spark swept through interstellar space. It sparkled like a jewel as scattered hydrogen atoms, swept up by electromagnetic energy,  blazed with fusion fire on its outer surface.  The spark tunnelled through the dust and gas that hung in great curtains between the stars leaving a series of swirling vortices in its wake. Its course was an unswerving straight line, aimed unerringly towards the star. At first, the star had been a small pinprick of light, almost lost among the background dusting of stars. Now, after the passing of several months, the star shone brighter than all the other stars around it. The spark began to change, its colour rippling through the rainbow from an actinic blue to blood red. The colour suddenly changed to a dazzling white, then popped like a soap bubble. In its place an oblate sphere appeared.

A ship.

The ship was old and well used, its surface pitted with tiny dimples from interstellar dust grains impacting on its surface. It began slowing, a blue-white corona flickering over the hull as its engines laboured to reduce its huge velocity. Finally, the ship came to an effective stop, four thousand million miles from the star. It hung virtually motionless, drifting gently for several hours, while a variety of senses searched the sky. The corona briefly flickered again and the ship began moving inward. It ignored the outer gas giants and headed towards the star. The time and effort of the journey had been vindicated. It had detected rocky planets in orbits around the star, planets with an atmosphere, planets worthy of investigation.

An atmosphere-shrouded planet basked in the warmth of its primary. One hundred and twenty miles above the surface, the ship followed the curve of the planet as it entered a circumpolar orbit. The ship had been smoothly following that orbit for some days when almost imperceptibly, the structure trembled. It slowly began to tumble. As the ship disappeared into the shadow of the planet, the rate of tumbling was progressively increasing. When it emerged into the light, the ship was spinning wildly, the sunlight glittering on the surface of the hull as it cartwheeled round the planet. Over a period of several orbits, the spinning slowly reduced until only the slight flicker of shadows sliding across its surface revealed it had not quite regained its former stability. For several days, the ship circled the planet, outwardly lifeless. Then a line of lights rippled along the hull. It broke from its orbit and dropped like a falling moon towards the planet. It entered the atmosphere at over seventeen thousand miles per hour, tracing an incandescent line through the night sky as air friction raised its surface temperature to white heat. Ten miles from the surface, the ship shuddered with a savage deceleration, the double crack of a supersonic boom trailing behind it. It started pulling out of its vertical plunge, leaving a fiery arc behind it as its suicidal dive flattened out. By the time it was two miles high, its furiously working engines had dropped the speed to less than two thousand miles an hour. It descended towards the surface of a heaving grey sea. It flew just above the waves for a short while, its speed dropping all the time. It sank lower and lower, then still red hot, it hit the water… and bounced. It skipped in two mile leaps, sizzling like a welding spark on a puddle, leaving behind a succession of boiling cauldrons in its wake. Ahead, a dark coastline appeared on the horizon. The distance between the skips grew shorter as the plunging collisions with the sea slowed the ship. It finally crashed into the water for the last time, piling up a sheet of spray in front of its leading edge as it burrowed into the sea. It sank half a mile from the coast, the waves from its impact battering the sheer cliffs. As the water closed over it, a column of spray and steam erupted into the air as the sea boiled. After the turbulence had subsided, no trace of its passing remained.

Chapter 1 New Chapter

CHAPTER 1

Alan Renn picked up his glass and swallowed the contents in two noisy gulps. He put the glass down, sliding it amongst the empties cluttering the tabletop. He stared morosely at the glass as the froth slowly slid down the sides. Finally, he looked up at his two companions sitting round the table.

“Who’s getting them in then?”

Brian Watts shrugged his shoulders. “Not me, I’m skint.”

Thomas Lee, who was sitting quietly drunk with his eyes half shut, lifted his head. He slowly nodded in agreement. “Me too,” he slurred.

Renn scowled at the rivulets of water running down the window next to him. He sighed. What a poxy night, pissing down with rain and now we’re out of money. He stood up. “Come on, we might as well get out of here.”

Lee rose clumsily to his feet. His chair fell backwards with a crash, turning the heads of the other drinkers in the bar. As he tried to regain his balance, his knees caught the edge of the table. Two of the glasses teetered on the edge of the table and fell to the floor. The carpet cushioned their fall so instead of breaking; they bounced. They struck the table legs, the glasses ringing like bells before spinning to a halt on the carpet. The barman’s head snapped in their direction, his face creasing into a frown of irritation. He moved down the bar and lifted the flap. The bar fell silent in anticipation, all eyes on the three men. The three men knew the barman had become increasingly irritated by their behaviour. Every time one of them had exploded with a burst of drunken laughter, they’d seen him staring at them with his hard, blue eyes. Lee’s braying laugh had particularly irritated him and when the chair went over; his patience had run out. When he lifted the bar flap and moved in their direction, it was definitely time to go. There was no thought of standing up to him. Even though there were three of them, it would be no contest; the man was a built like a  gorilla.

Previously, a new breed of aggressive young drinkers had started using the pub. The atmosphere had changed. Regular customers were staying away because of the uneasy air of tension that hung over the bar. Fights would break out, spilling out onto the street. The police cars with their flashing blue lights became regular visitors to the pub and complaints from the neighbouring houses mounted. When signs of drug taking were discovered in the toilets, the police had given the owner an ultimatum and shortly after, the new barman arrived. His shaven head, his bull neck sloping into his shoulders and his skin-tight tee shirt emphasising the slabs of muscles on his chest, dominated the space behind the bar. His imposing presence subdued all but the most reckless customers. For a large man, he could move fast. Drinkers who ignored his demands to behave suddenly found his hands clamped round their necks. The shock of his fingers digging into their flesh like a pair of pincers, removed any thought of resistance. They were dragged to the door and unceremoniously thrown out to the street. Within weeks, word had got around. Obey his rules and behave, or else.

Watts flicked a glance at the advancing barman. “Come on, let’s move,” he hissed.

They walked hurriedly away from the table, one step ahead of the barman. As they neared the exit, they quickened their pace to a run and cannoned into the door. The door flew back on its hinges as they surged through the opening, bouncing against each other in their haste to get out of the pub before the barman caught up with them. The sleeting rain chilled their faces as they stepped onto the pavement, the light from the open door turning the falling rain into sparkling beads of light as it bounced off the wet pavement. They pulled up their collars and ran the few yards to a corner, hunching their shoulders in their jackets. As he turned the corner, Renn looked back. The hulking figure of the barman appeared, filling the doorway. Renn seethed inwardly at the humiliation of  running from the man in front of a pub full of people. He mouthed a curse at the man and turned the corner. The barman stood for a moment, staring impassively in the direction the men had gone, then pulled the door closed.

The water-dappled bodywork of Renn’s car glistened in the streetlights, their orange glow concealing the pale yellow glimmer of the car headlights. They climbed into the car, relieved to be out of the rain. Renn settled himself in his seat, took out a crumpled cigarette packet and put a cigarette in his mouth. He lit it, cupping his hands round the lighter flame. Stuffing the packet back into his pocket, he took a long drag on the cigarette and turned the ignition key. The starter turned sluggishly. Each time he twisted the key, it turned slower and slower.

“Come on, come on,” he breathed as he turned the key again.

 Finally, only a dull clunk from the starter rewarded his efforts, the lights on the dashboard faded to a dim glow and went out. Renn slapped the steering wheel with frustration and anger. “Bloody heap of shit,”

Watts nodded at the light switch. “You dozy pratt, you left your lights on, didn’t you.”

Renn looked at the light switch and snapped it off in a violent flick of his hand. He slapped the steering wheel again and hissed through his teeth, swearing under his breath.

“Now what,” said Watts.

Renn opened his door. “We bloody well walk,” he said scathingly. “What do you bleedin’ well think.”

They reluctantly got out of the car, back into the cold and wet. Renn slammed his door in frustration and locked it with vicious twist of the key. The whole evening had turned into a disaster. He realised now the rot had set in the moment they’d entered the pub. The girls in the pub were either with other men or were complete dogs he wouldn’t touch with Lee’s dick. They’d run out of money and now his suit was going to get soaking wet. He glanced at the other two. Lee was too pissed to care about the rain and Watts dressed like a tramp, the rain couldn’t make him look any worse. He wondered why he put up with them and in a rare moment of introspection, almost immediately realised why. It was the sense of superiority he felt over them. He had a better job with more pay, a smarter suit and he was the one with the car. That made him their natural leader. He needed that for his own self-esteem. He shrugged and put his head down, stuffing one hand in his pocket and cupping his cigarette in the other. He started walking, hugging the pavement next to the shop fronts in an effort to find some shelter from the driving rain. Watts fell in behind him, with Lee shambling along in the rear, three dark figures almost invisible in the rain, emerging briefly from the shadows as they passed under the streetlights. As they turned a corner, they saw the lights of a pedestrian underpass glowing in the distance. Seeing the opportunity of shelter, the three men broke into a run towards the light. At the entrance, they stumbled into each other, their pace faltering, as they saw the lone figure of a man enter the far end of the tunnel. They slowed almost to a halt, their attention fixed on the man. Renn flicked his cigarette away and nodded at the approaching figure.

“Look at that bastard, what’s he think he’s doing?”

Watts nodded, his face breaking into a grin. “He’s gona give us some drinking money I reckon,” He glanced at Lee. “You up for it Tom? He’s only a little bloke; I reckon you could do him on your own.”

Lee grinned back at Watts. The cold and rain had woken him up somewhat. “Yeah, why not. If he didn’t want to get turned over, he shouldn’t be out at this time of night.” He giggled drunkenly at his own joke and walked ahead of his companions while the other two spread out across the width of the tunnel. The man slowed as he recognised the threat approaching him. He moved sideways until he was close against the wall, his head flicking from side to side, as he tried to keep all three men in view. Lee angled across the tunnel, closing the gap between him and the man. When he was a few feet away, he jumped at him. A terrified scream echoed down the length of the underpass. It bounced off the tiled walls and finally died, leaving only the scuffle of feet to break the silence.

Chapter 2 New Chapter

CHAPTER 2

John Appleby accelerated the ambulance through the streets, the wail of its siren clearing a path through the late night traffic. The driving rain had turned the roads into shallow rivers, each streetlight surrounded by a halo of falling droplets. The ambulance left a wake behind it like a small destroyer, the swirling mist of water battering the following traffic. Appleby turned the heater blower to maximum to clear the mist forming inside the screen as he peered at the passing street signs. The wind driven rain lashed against the windscreen, the noise making conversation almost impossible. It was not a good night to be out. Their last call was had been to a drunk who had run his car into a tree. They’d been out in the wind and rain for nearly an hour, keeping the poor bastard alive while the fire brigade struggled to free him from the wreck. By the time he was pulled from the remains of his car, both paramedics were chilled to the bone. The rain had funnelled down the neck of Appleby’s waterproofs, soaking his clothes. He shivered as his sodden collar clung to his neck in a cold, clammy embrace. Frank Edwards in the seat next to him pointed.

“There,” he said.

At the entrance of the pedestrian underpass, a man stood hunched up against the downpour. As the ambulance approached, he lifted his arm and flagged them down. They pulled into the kerb and got out of the ambulance. After the warmth of the cab, the rain hit their faces like a thousand icy fingers, the wind driving the water into every opening of their clothing. Suppressing their shivers, they shouldered their bags and ran to the underpass where the man waited for them. He pointed into the tunnel.

“They’re down there,” he said, “three of them.”

The paramedics nodded and ran into the tunnel where three men were visible in the dim light. Two lay on their backs, the other was crouched against the wall clutching his face. Edwards quickly checked the two prone men.

“They’re alive and conscious,” he said.

Appleby approached the third man. The man flinched as he touched his arm.

“What happened?” asked Appleby.

The man curled tighter and turned away from him.

“It’s all right son, I’m with the ambulance.” said Appleby. He reached out, seeking to reassure the man.

The man clutched Appleby’s sleeve. “I can’t see,” he whispered.

Appleby pulled the man’s hand away from his face. The eyelids were tightly shut but Appleby could see no damage to the man’s face. He gently felt the back of the man’s head, expecting to find some sign of injury. Finding nothing, he touched the man’s arm again.

“Can you wait here for a minute; I’ve got to see to the other two.”

The man nodded dumbly and put his hands up to his face again.

Appleby rejoined Edwards.

“They’re not very coherent,” said Edwards. “They say they can’t feel their legs.”

Appleby frowned. “Stay with them, I’ll get the spinal boards.”

He ran back to the ambulance and opened the back doors. He quickly collected the boards and as he turned, almost walked into a policeman.

“What have you got?” asked the policeman.

 “Three men in there,” said Appleby, nodding at the underpass. “Two with possible spinal injuries, the other one says he can’t see, though I couldn’t find any sign of injury.”

Appleby hitched the boards under his arms and walked towards the underpass, indicating with a nod of his head for the policeman to follow him. 

The policeman was silent for a second, as he fell in step with Appleby. “What do you reckon, the usual Saturday night piss-up leading to a fight?”

Appleby shrugged. “Probably, this lot stink of drink.” He raised his eyes heavenwards. ”Saturday nights,” he said heavily. “I hate Saturday nights.”

The policeman nodded slowly in sympathy. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

They walked to where Edwards was crouched next to the two men. The policeman stood to one side as the paramedics gave the men a mixture of gas and air to relax them before sliding the boards under them. Once they were strapped down, Edwards ran to the ambulance and returned with a stretcher. The two paramedics loaded one of the men onto it and wheeled him to the ambulance. Once he was securely locked into place, they returned with a stretcher for the other man. As they were loading the second stretcher, a flashing blue light signalled the arrival of another ambulance. Edwards gestured with his thumb as the driver got out.

“One more down there, a policeman’s standing by him. He says he can’t see. I can’t find any obvious injuries, but I didn’t have time for a proper look. These two are probable spinal injuries, I can’t afford to wait.”

The paramedic nodded and ran into the underpass with his companion. Edwards stayed in the back of the ambulance and pulled the doors shut, while Appleby climbed into the cab. As he leaned out to pull the door closed, he saw the policeman running up to him. He pushed the door back open and looked down.

The policeman looked up at him, his face speckled with water. “I’ve had a quick look round. I can’t see any sign of weapons lying about. Do you know if there were any witnesses?”

Appleby nodded at the underpass entrance. “There was a man waiting for us when we drove up. We had an anonymous emergency call. It could have been him.” He glanced through the open doorway. “No sign of him now. Probably didn’t want to get involved.”

The policeman shrugged. “It happens. I’ll follow you to the hospital. Giles Memorial is it?”

Appleby nodded. He pulled his door shut and started the engine. Turning on the heater, he sighed with pleasure as a blast of hot air enveloped his legs. He engaged the gears and moved off. A few minutes later, the second ambulance followed him, trailed by the police car, their flashing lights illuminating the raindrops falling in a steady stream from the sky.

Chapter 3 New Chapter

                                                                          CHAPTER 3

           The crash team huddled under the hospital entrance canopy as the ambulances arrived. Appleby backed his ambulance up to the canopy and as Edwards opened the rear doors, the team crowded round the back of the ambulance to help unload the two stretchers with their semiconscious cargo. The automatic doors hissed open as the small convoy came within range of the infrared sensors, allowing them to pass quickly into the light and warmth of the hospital. They moved through the crowded reception area, ignoring the inquisitive gaze of patients sitting on the seats lining the walls, into the relative quiet of the corridor leading to the A and E rooms. The two paramedics briefed the doctors as they moved rapidly down the corridor, their words accompanied by the squeak of the medic’s rubber soled shoes on the polished tiles and the rattle of the trolley wheels. As he talked, Appleby wondered in a small corner of his mind why there was always one trolley wheel that wouldn’t run in a straight line. He mentally shrugged, putting the thought to one side and tried to concentrate on answering the doctor’s questions. The two men were transferred to tables in the casualty room and after a final word with the doctors; Appleby and Edwards collected their stretchers and wheeled them back to their ambulance. As they were loading them inside, the third man was being taken from the other ambulance. The policeman walked over to them from his parked car.

“We’re finished here,” said Appleby, “are you staying?”

The policeman nodded. “Their families have to be told where they are; I’ll stay and get their details.”

Appleby nodded. “Right, we’ll be off then, we have another call.” He tapped the mobile phone clipped to his jacket.

The policeman nodded back at him turned towards the lights of the hospital entrance. He passed through the double doors, the sound of the ambulance motor fading behind him as it drove out of the hospital grounds. He removed his hat and waited at the desk, a resigned look on his face. The three years Mike Henderson had been on the force had hardened him to the senseless violence he encountered on a regular basis. A woman behind the desk looked up at him.

“Yes?”

Henderson coughed, clearing his throat. To his annoyance, he always felt vaguely intimidated by hospital staff. “Those three men just been brought in. I believe they have serious injuries. When the doctors have a chance, I’d like any articles that will help identify them. We have to inform their relatives where they are.”

The woman nodded and reached for a phone. She spoke quietly into it for some minutes and put the handset down. She looked up again.

“The doctors are seeing to them now. Anything they find they’ll bring out to you.”

Henderson nodded his thanks and sat down on one of the seats along the wall of the reception area. The radio clipped to his shoulder chirped. He stood up and caught the attention of the women behind the desk.

“I’ll be outside for a moment.”

She nodded at him.

Outside, he sheltered under the entrance canopy and answered the radio. It was his sergeant.

“Any progress?” the radio asked.

Henderson bent to his radio. “I’m at the hospital, we have three white males. They seem in a bad way. I’ve no idea what happened yet, they were in no condition to talk. I’m waiting for identification”

“Right. When you have some ID come in, we’ll send someone round to their relatives.”

“Will do.”

Henderson clicked off his radio and walked back into the hospital. He waited patiently for half an hour until a nurse walked into reception. She held out a plastic bag. Henderson rose from his seat.

“This is all we could find on them.” She held out a clipboard, “Sign here please.”

“How are they?” enquired Henderson, taking the offered pen. He signed the form on the clipboard, trying not to let his wet sleeve smear the ink.

The nurse grimaced. “They’re all a bit of a puzzle. They’re being put into the MIR scanner right now; see if we can find out what’s going on.”

Henderson took the bag. “I’m at Hayes road station. Will you call there when they’re fit enough to be interviewed.” He added the station telephone number to the bottom of the form.

The nurse took the clipboard and tucked it under her arm. “OK, we’ll give you a call. It’ll probably be sometime tomorrow or the next day.”

She gave him a brief smile and returned to the A and E department.

            Henderson drove into the Hayes road police station car park. He got out of his car and walked across the car park to the station entrance, trying to avoid the puddles reflecting the lights from the station windows. The desk sergeant looked up as he came through the door.

“Got the ID?”

Henderson held up the bag.

The sergeant nodded. “DS Ramsey is waiting for you, his office.”

Duncan Ramsey looked up from his computer as Henderson opened the door.

“What have you got for me?” he asked. He’d been up all night and he looked it. His bright ginger hair, the bane of his life when he was younger, stood up in clumps where he constantly ran his fingers through it. His pale freckled skin stood out in stark contrast to his dark suit. At school, he’d suffered the usual taunts of ‘carrot top’ and ‘Swan Vesta’ in a stoical silence, but when he moved on to the local comprehensive, the taunts developed into bullying. That was when he decided he’d had enough. He enrolled in a karate class at his local sports centre. Within six months, his tormentors had given up. He still remembered with some satisfaction a boy two years older and almost six inches taller than him, crying like a baby after he’d bloodied his nose. The boy had come up behind Ramsey and punched him in the back. He’d been totally unprepared for Ramsey’s instant and violent retaliation. He still attended the sports centre every week. Years of practice had moulded his body lean and muscular. Stripped off however, he still looked like a stick of spotted chalk. He'd given up trying for a tan years ago; he turned bright red at the slightest exposure to the sun. Now aged twenty-six, he was resigned to looking pale and interesting.

Henderson tipped the contents of the bag onto the table. As the two men sorted through the jumble of papers and wallets, Henderson gave a quick account of the three men’s injuries. When they had finished they had three separate heaps of the usual clutter that men keep in their pockets.

“Right, we’ve got enough here,” said Ramsey. He made notes on a pad. “Alan Renn, Thomas Lee and Brian Watts. That’s three families that are going to get some bad news tonight.”

“Do you want me to go to one of them?” asked Henderson.

Ramsey shook his head. “No you’ve done enough for tonight. Anyway you’re off duty in a short while, aren’t you?”

Henderson looked at his watch and nodded. “Yeah, in ten minutes. Can’t say I’m sorry. I hate knocking on people’s doors giving them bad news.”

Ramsey stood up. “OK, shove off then. I’ll take it from here.”

After Henderson had left, Ramsey gathered up the documents and walked through the station to the radio room. He put his notes on the table in front of the operator.

“Send some uniforms round to those addresses will you. Whoever they are, they need to know their lads are in hospital.”

The MIR scanner almost filled one end of the room. A conveyer ran through the hole in the middle. The man strapped to a stretcher, slowly moved into the middle of the scanner, the red lines of the laser marker moving up his body. At the console, two doctors watched the monitors as pictures slowly emerged on the screens. One of the doctors leaned forward and tapped a screen with a pen.

“There, look. There’s the site of the injury.”

The other doctor stared at the screen for a long moment. He turned to his colleague. “I’ve never seen anything like this, have you?” He looked at the scanner operator sitting next to him. “I can’t believe this is a true picture, is this thing working all right?”

The operator checked his dials and switches.

“Everything checks out. If this picture is wrong, it means everything we’ve done in the past two years is wrong as well.” He shook his head. “I know that’s not true, we’ve had enough results confirmed to know the machine is working properly.”

The doctor turned back to the screen. “Give me a hard copy of that, then get him out of there.” He turned to his colleague. “We must check the other two, I don’t understand this.”

Chapter 4 New Chapter

                                                                          CHAPTER 4

Ramsey parked his car and walked into the underpass. The dawn was coming up and a pale light filtered into the tunnel, washing out the lights set into the roof. The streets were empty and quiet now the rain had stopped; only the echo of his footsteps from the tiled walls of the underpass and the soft gurgle of water from the drains broke the silence. He paced the distance into the underpass to where the men were found, and looked around, squatting down to inspect the floor of the tunnel. The hard paved surface revealed nothing. He slowly walked back out of the underpass. At the entrance, a small box on the ceiling caught his eye. A CCTV camera lens peered through the armoured glass of the box, reflecting the lights of the underpass. He stood under the camera and looked back into the underpass, checking its field of view. As the realisation hit him, he turned and ran to his car. Back at the station, he made his way to where the sergeant was sitting at his computer.

“Dave, who controls the TV cameras at the underpass. If we’re lucky, the three men taken to hospital might be on video.”

Martin looked up from his screen.

“They’re run for the local council by a private company. Hold on, I’ll have a look for you.”

He tapped the keys of his computer. The screen changed images in rapid succession. Martin sat back.

“There you go, Secure Systems on Cramer Street. Maureen Dale is the manager.” He made a note on a pad and passed it over the desk to Ramsey. Taking the note, Ramsey sat a spare desk and picked up the phone. After a few minutes, he put down the phone. He looked up. “They’re holding the tapes for me; I’ll go and get them now.”

Martin nodded and turned back to his computer.

            Ramsey parked his car and walked through the doors of Secure Systems. A warm curtain of air directed from a heater over the door was a welcome contrast to the cold outside. He stood for a second, basking in the warmth, then approached the front desk. The man behind the desk looked at his warrant card.

"Maureen Dale is expecting me," said Ramsey.

The man nodded and used his phone. He looked up at Ramsey. “She’ll be down in a minute.”

Ramsey nodded and lent against the desk and waited. A few minutes passed, then the lift doors opened and a middle-aged woman came out and walked across the foyer towards him. Ramsey held up his warrant card and shook her offered hand.

“I think these are what you’re looking for,” she said, holding out a small bag. “We have cameras at both ends of the underpass. These are copies of the last twenty four hours.”

Ramsey took the bag. Inside was a CD in its jewel case.

“We don’t use tapes any more,” said Dale. Everything’s on hard drive now.”

She held out a piece of paper. “If you would just sign for them.”

Ramsey lent on the foyer desk and signed the paper. He looked up. “We may need to keep these for some time. They could be evidence in a possible court case.”

Dale shrugged. “No problem, we have plenty of CD’s.”

Ramsey nodded goodbye and left the building. Half an hour later, he was back at the police station. He took the CD to a small back room and loaded it into the player. He had been watching for a few minutes when the door opened. He looked up as Detective Inspector Philip Drake walked in.

“The desk said you’re on the underpass incident, is that right?” he asked.

Ramsey raised his eyebrows in interrogation. "Got nothing better to do, Phil? You don't usually concern yourself with street fights."

Drake sat down next to him, easing his large bulk into a chair. In spite of years of dieting, his weight refused to go down. Now at forty-two, he was loosing his hair. His children thought he was still growing, his head pushing up through his hair. Ten-year-old twins have their own logic. He lit a cigarette and turned to Ramsey.

"There's something funny about this case. I've just had a call from the hospital asking for more information about the men. They want us to visit the hospital ASAP."

Ramsey lent back in his chair. "Did they say what's bothering them?"

Drake shook his head. "Not much. They're puzzled about the men's injuries. They want to know more about the incident." He nodded at the screen. "Got anything?"

Ramsey shook his head. "I've only just started. We don't know how long they were laying there before we got the call. We could have hours to go through."

Drake stood up. "This is no job for you. I'll get one of the uniforms to trawl through the CD." He looked at his watch. "We'll go to the hospital now, might as well get it over with."

Ramsey stood by the front desk as Drake gave instructions to a young woman constable. He could tell from the look on her face, she wasn't relishing the job in front of her. Watching hours of CCTV footage, even at fast forward was a boring, mind-numbing job. The constable retreated into the back room as Drake walked over to him.

"Right, that's done," he said with satisfaction. "By the time we get back, she might have something for us."

                Drake and Ramsey sat in the reception at the hospital. After talking to the woman behind the desk, they settled down for what could be a long wait. The doctor was a busy man, she'd informed them, he'd be down as soon as he could. He couldn’t come down fast enough for Ramsey; hospitals depressed him. He shifted awkwardly on the shiny plastic seat. No matter how he moved, the front edge cut uncomfortably into his thighs. He idly looked around. The dull white walls needed painting, and high up in one corner, a dark stain looked as if water had leaked through the ceiling. The polish on the tiled floor could not disguise the scuff marks from the trolley wheels and the march of feet over the years. The abstract paintings dotted round the walls were obviously there to try to lighten the atmosphere of the place, but they did nothing to lift his spirits. The other people sharing the room with him obviously felt the same, they sat in small huddled groups, staring into space or talking quietly to each other. He came out of his reverie when a man in a white coat hurried to the desk and spoke to the woman. She pointed to the two detectives and the man came over to them. His agitation was obvious to the two detectives. His thin face was drawn out with lines of fatigue.

"I'm Doctor Lowell," he said. "I'm hoping you can help me with this." He tapped a folder he held under his arm.

The two detectives rose to their feet, Ramsey unobtrusively rubbing the back of his thighs.

"We haven't got much information ourselves at the moment, you're welcome to what we do have," replied Drake, rather puzzled at the doctors' request.

Lowell held out his hand and ushered them towards a side room. He nodded at a small silent group of people sitting at the end of the reception room. "They're the relatives of the men we've got upstairs."

Drake took a quick look at them before he entered the room.

"We will have to speak to them later," he said.

Lowell held up the folder. "This is more important at the moment," he replied.

They sat down and Lowell opened the folder and spread out a stack of photographs on a low table.

"These are stills taken from the MIR scanner." He chose a picture from the pile and gestured at it.

"This is the spine of one of the men." He ran his finger along, showing them the track of the spinal cord. He stopped and tapped the picture. "What do you see?"

Drake and Ramsey stared at the picture. The details were pin sharp.

"There's a break in the spinal cord," Drake finally said.

"Right," said Lowell. "It's just as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and snipped it in half. Now look at the tissue round the break."

Drake shook his head. "What am I supposed to see?"

Lowell slid another picture onto the top of the stack. "This is a cross section of the body at the site of the break. Does that make things clearer?"

Drake stared at the picture for a long moment and looked at Ramsey who shrugged. Drake turned back to Lowell.

"I'm sorry doctor; I'm not a medical man. Just what am I supposed to be seeing?"

Lowell tapped the picture again. "Where are the injuries to the surrounding tissue? Look, there's no sign of damage to the muscles round the spine, or to the spine itself."

Ramsey looked at the picture again. "Wouldn't a fall or a violent twisting action cause that damage to the cord? People break their spines without the skin being broken. To look at them, you'd think nothing was wrong."

Lowell shook his head. "Anything violent enough to break the spinal cord would show up in the surrounding tissue. The skin might appear undamaged, but the trauma to muscle tissue or the displacement of vertebrae would be obvious."

"So what are you saying," said Drake.

Lowell shook his head. "Some how, this spinal cord has been cut without any other part of the body being touched. I don't understand it. I've never seen anything like it, nor have my colleagues."

"What about the other men?" asked Drake.

"One of the other men has an identical spinal injury," replied Lowell. "One I could maybe accept as a freak accident, but here we’ve got two brought in on the same night."

He sorted through the pile of photographs and held up another picture. "This is a picture of the man who complained he couldn't see. Look, both optic nerves have been severed where they join the back of the eye. Like the other two men, there’s not sight of trauma to any of the surrounding tissue. The skull and the brain appear to be undamaged."

"So you’re saying we have another impossible injury, is that right?" asked Drake.

Lowell nodded. He tapped the picture. "Impossible or not, there’s the proof it's happened. When he first came in, we thought he'd received a blow to the occipital region of his skull.” He briefly touched the back of his head. “Here. That's where the sight centres are situated in the brain. We found no sign of injury, that's why we put him in the scanner. We have three men with injuries that are totally inexplicable. We need more information. Can you tell us anything about the incident that might explain all this?"

Drake thought for a moment. He turned to Ramsey, "Duncan? You visited the scene didn't you?"

Ramsey nodded. "We had an emergency call saying three men were lying in the underpass. The caller didn't leave his name. That's not unusual; a lot of the public don't want to get involved. After they were brought here, one of our uniformed lads collected their belongings so we could contact their relatives. As far as I was concerned, it was nothing more than a usual Saturday night punch-up. I had a quick look at the underpass, but there was nothing there to help. We’re not going to know much until we interview the three men. We have CCTV footage back at the station; we might get something from them. I'm not holding out too much hope, the pictures from these things are usually pretty poor."

Lowell frowned. "I was hoping for more. There’s no chance of you seeing the men yet, they won’t be fit to talk for several days. Apart from their injuries, they’re all in a state of shock. We tried to ask them how they came to be injured, but they’re completely incoherent, they just can’t give us an explanation.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “When will you have the pictures looked at?"

"We have a constable viewing them now," replied Drake. "As soon as we have something, we'll let you know."

"Right, thanks," replied Lowell, rising from his chair. "I'll get back to my patients now. I hope to hear from you soon."

Chapter 5 New Chapter

                                                    CHAPTER 5

The rain had started again. Drake and Ramsey pulled up the collars of their coats and walked out of the hospital, both deep in thought.

"Well, what do you make of that?" asked Drake.

"It's a bit unusual," mused Ramsey. "Usually it's us asking the doctors for help." He turned to Drake. "Those injuries were weird. Have you seen anything like it before?"

Drake shook his head. "Nope. I've been in the force for eighteen years. I've seen shootings, stabbings and just plain beatings. Nothing like that."

“That doctor said they didn’t know how they got their injuries,” said Ramsey. “I can’t believe that, they must know what happened.”

“Can’t tell or more likely won’t tell,” replied Drake. “Maybe they got mixed up with something way over their heads. It could be they’re too frightened to talk.”

Ramsey raised his eyebrows. “What some gangland thing? I haven’t heard of anything like that going on round here. London maybe, but not round here. Have you heard of anything?”

Drake shook his head. “Nothing that would put the fear of God into three lads like that.” He fumbled for his keys as they approached the car. “Maybe the CD will show us something, let's get back to the station."

On the way to the station, Drake glanced at the dashboard clock. He turned to Ramsey. "Shouldn't you be off duty now?"

Ramsey, relaxing back in his seat, opened his eyes. He checked the time.

"Yeah, over an hour ago.” This has got me intrigued, I think I'll stick around and see what the CD shows."

Drake shrugged. "Your choice. You're going to feel like shit later on."

"I'll worry about that later," replied Ramsey. He relaxed back and closed his eyes again, lulled by the soft hum of the motor and the regular swishing of the wiper blades.

            As they walked into the station, the WPC was waiting for them.

"That CD," she began. "I think I've found what you're looking for. I don't quite understand what they show."

Drake nodded. "Give us a minute to get a coffee. Set up the CD at the beginning of the sequence you're worried about. We'll join you in a minute."

She nodded and hurried down the corridor. Drake and Ramsey stood by the machine as it dispensed a brown liquid into paper cups. Ramsey took a sip of the scalding liquid and grimaced. He’d nearly fallen asleep in the car on the way back from the hospital; he needed the sudden jolt of hot caffeine to keep his eyelids open. They carried their cups to the back room, dumped their wet coats and sat down.

"What have you got for us?" asked Drake.

The WPC worked the remote. "This is the start of the sequence. I've got more footage taken from the other end of the underpass, but that doesn't show much, it's too far away.”

Drake and Ramsey leaned forward as the picture appeared on the TV monitor. At the far end of the underpass, the silhouette of a man could be seen walking towards the camera. The backs of three men appeared as they walked into the underpass under the camera. As they approached the man, they spread out and converged on him. One of the men grabbed the lone figure by his coat and pushed him violently against the wall. Suddenly, he recoiled, clutching his face. The other two men ran towards the man now half crouched against the wall. They had only taken a few steps, when their legs collapsed under them. They fell violently to the ground. The man levered himself from his crouching position and brushed the front of his coat, straightening the lapels. He calmly stepped over the twitching bodies on the ground and walked out of the subway. His face was visible for a few seconds as he passed under a light near the camera.

"What the hell." Drake leaned forward. "Run that again."

They watched in silence as the sequence was repeated. Drake sat back.

"He didn't take his hands out of his pockets until he brushed himself off." He turned to Ramsey. "Did you see him hit any of those three?"

Ramsey shook his head.

"Run it again," commanded Drake. "When it gets to the point where the man is grabbed, put it on single frame."

The WPC reversed the CD and thumbed the remote. As the man was pushed against the wall, she pressed the frame advance button. The picture advanced frame by frame. They watched as the attacker let go of the coat and staggered back, his hands rising to his face in a series of jerky movements.

"You're right," exclaimed Ramsey. "He never took his hands out of his pockets. What the hell is going on?"

"I've been over this over and over again," said the WPC. "It's just like they were struck down by some outside force. It's creepy."

"Run it on to where we can see his face," said Drake. "I want to have a good look at him."

The WPC froze the CD as the man passed under the light.

"He looks ordinary enough," observed Ramsey. "You wouldn't give him a second look if you passed him in the street."

Drake made notes on his pad. He looked up at Ramsey.

"What was the name of the officer that attended the scene? I want you to talk to him as soon as possible. He might have seen something."

Ramsey thought for a second. "Mike Henderson. He's off duty at the moment. I'll see him as soon as he comes in."

Drake pointed with his pen. "The ambulance men too. Find out who they are." He pointed at the screen, still showing the face of the man "We also need a picture of him. He crippled three people; I want him off our streets.” He turned to Ramsey. “You, go home and get some sleep. I want you back here in six hours.”

Chapter 6 New Chapter

                                                      CHAPTER 6

Chief Inspector Edwin Painter frowned at the images on the screen. He thumbed the remote control, shutting off the TV. He stared at the blank screen for a moment, then turned to Drake and Ramsey sitting next to him.

"Well, it seems you're right. It does look like he kept his hands in his pockets throughout the attack. What do you make of it?"

Drake cleared his throat. "It’s hard to come to any sensible conclusion from that.” He nodded at the TV. “We need a clearer picture. I'd like to take this CD to the university. I've checked up, they run an ICT degree course. I’ve made a tentative appointment with a Dr. Walsh. I'm hoping he can enhance the image of the fight and more importantly, that man's face."

Painter frowned. "ICT?"

"Information and computer technology," supplied Ramsey.

 "How much will that cost us?"

"If we can get them interested, they might do it for nothing," replied Drake.

"Hmm." Painter thought for a moment. "All right, try it. If they do want to charge, clear it with me first." He put the TV remote control onto the table. “What about the three men, have you had a chance to interview them?”

Drake shook his head. “Not yet, the doctors won’t let us near them, they’re still in a state of shock.”

“What about their parents, any useful information from them?”

“Not much. The men are all living at home, but the parents couldn’t tell us what they did and had only the vaguest idea of who their friends are. The lads are all about twenty or so, at that age they wouldn’t tell their parents much.”

“Any form on any of them?”

Ramsey looked up. “We ran a check. Renn has points on his license for speeding, nothing on the others. On the surface, they appear to be three ordinary young men, nothing special about any of them.”

“And yet they end up in hospital with injuries no-one can explain.” Painter stood up. “All right, get over to the university and see your Dr. Walsh, see what he can make of the CD. That man in the underpass is our only lead, if we can identify and find him, perhaps we can get to the bottom of this.”

Drake and Ramsey walked through the grounds of the University, angling away from the main University buildings. Above them, black clouds raced across the sky. They held their coats collars closed against a fitful wind that tugged at their clothing. There was the smell of rain in the air. It was almost mid-day but the light was so dull, it could have been nearly dusk. Ramsey shivered. The weather forecasters had cheerfully observed that this was the wettest December for twenty years; he believed them. He was fed up with being cold and wet. It was only two weeks to Christmas, he was on the leave rota this year; he could hardly wait. The gravel path scrunched beneath their feet as they approached a building looking like an oversize garden shed. The path continued past the building so they walked carefully across the grass to the door, the wet ground squelching under their feet. The door was half covered by a sign requesting visitors to knock and wait. They dutifully knocked on the door and waited. A young student opened the door.

"Yes?"

Drake held out his warrant card. "I'm DI Drake, this is DS Ramsey. We have an appointment with Dr. Walsh."

The student nodded, "Oh, right. Come in."

He led them through a maze of desks to the far end of the room. Students at each desk stared intently at their computer monitors. None looked up as they passed. The student led them to a small office in the corner of the building. He tapped on the open door.

"Your visitors are here."

Instead of an elderly professorial man they were expecting, a young woman in her late twenties rose from behind a cluttered desk to greet them. Her dark hair was cut short, framing her round face. She wore a dark tailored suit that only hinted of her figure beneath.

Drake raised his eyebrows. "Dr. Walsh?"

Walsh smiled and nodded. "You were expecting someone else?"

Drake shook his head. "They say you're getting old when the coppers look young. I suppose it's the same with doctors."

Walsh smiled. "I suppose that's a sort of backhanded compliment." She glanced briefly at a note on her desk. "I presume you are DI Drake and DS Ramsey, can you show me some ID?"

Drake and Ramsey showed her their warrant cards.

Walsh smiled. "We have a lot of expensive equipment in here, we have to be careful."

Drake waved his arms around. "This seems an odd building to keep it in, if you don't mind me saying so."

"We're a new course," replied Walsh. "Hopefully, next year we'll have a purpose built facility. This place is better protected than it looks. We keep the door locked and the whole place is extensively alarmed." She looked down at their muddy shoes. “Sorry about that, we’ve been promised a proper path to the door but you know what university finances are like.” She returned to her seat. “Now what can I do for you, you were a bit vague on the phone."

"We'd like some scenes from a CD enhanced and some stills," said Drake. "Can you do this?"

"What sort of pictures?" asked Walsh.

"They're taken by a CCTV camera," replied Drake.

Walsh frowned. "They're not usually very good, but we can have a go. I'm sure we can make some improvement. Have you got the CD with you?"

Drake handed her the CD. "This shows a man being attacked. It could be presented as evidence in a prosecution, so before you start, I have to ask you for complete confidentially. Also you may be called upon to give evidence on your methods of enhancement."

"No problem. I can do the work myself; I'll keep the students out of it. As for going to court, well I'll worry about that if it comes to it."

"Right, thanks," said Drake. "How long will it take, shall we come back later?"

"No, I can do it now," replied Walsh. She rose from her chair. "Follow me."

She led them to a table stacked with electronic equipment. She put the CD into a player and started it running. A picture appeared on a monitor. She turned to Drake.

"Where do you want me to start?"

Ramsey consulted a small notebook.

"There's a time clock showing at the bottom right hand corner of picture. If you start at nine forty-six, that should be about right. We want a picture of a man’s face."

Walsh used the fast forward button,  watching the numbers of the time clock, as the pictures flickered on the screen. She stopped the CD and inched it forward, frame by frame. The man's face appeared on the screen. She inched the CD backwards and forwards a few times, then looked up at Drake.

"That's about the best; I'll work on this one"

Drake nodded.

Walsh pulled a computer keyboard towards her and entered a string of commands, her finger dancing over the keys. The picture on the monitor appeared on the computer screen. Walsh worked the keys and the screen changed, each time the picture becoming clearer. Finally, she looked up.

"That's about as good as I can get it, will that do for you?"

Drake gazed at the screen and nodded. The man's face was framed in the screen in stark detail.

"That is amazing." He tapped the monitor. "This is a clever piece of kit."

Walsh smiled. "It's a development of the software NASA used to clean up their pictures of the early unmanned moon shots."

"Right," said Drake absentmindedly, still staring at the screen. He turned to Walsh.

"Can you give us a still of this?"

Walsh nodded. "No problem."

She turned to a printer and pressed buttons. After a short wait, the picture emerged from the printer. She passed the picture to Drake.

"Yeah, that'll do. We can get good copies from this," he said with satisfaction.

He studied the picture. The enhanced picture exposed details missing on the original tape. It showed a thin faced man with a sharp pointed nose. He was completely bald, his smooth scalp reflecting the lights of the underpass. His eyes were sunken, two dark shadows under heavy brow ridges. Walsh leaned over to look at the picture.

"I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley. I take it he's not the victim of the attack."

"What makes you say that?" enquired Drake.

Walsh shrugged. "To me, he doesn't look like a man recovering from being attacked, that's all."

"This is not your usual Saturday night brawl. You'll see what I mean when we look at another part of the video.” He put the picture down. "Can you clean up a sequence. Not just one frame?" he asked.

Walsh nodded slowly. "I can, but it'll take a lot longer. Where do you want me to start?"

"Duncan?" said Drake, looking at Ramsey.

Ramsey consulted his notebook again. "Start at nine forty-two." He looked at Drake, his eyebrows raised. Drake nodded. "This sequence shows that man being attacked by three men," continued Ramsey. "The bit we're interested in is when the first man grabs him. We especially want to see if the victim uses any weapons against his attacker."

Walsh frowned. "Surely the CCTV picture is clear enough to show that."

"Wait till you see the sequence," replied Ramsey.

"OK, let's spin it back to nine forty-two," said Walsh. "You've got me curious now."

Drake held up his hand. "Before you do, I must emphasise the need for confidentiality in this. Anything you see from the enhanced pictures you must keep to yourself. As I said, this could be evidence in a court case."

"You've got me really curious now," replied Walsh, working the CD player. She inched the CD back to the time Ramsey had given her. "I'll just run the sequence into the computer first," she said.

They all watched in silence as the pictures were transferred. Walsh's head came up with a start.

"What did he hit him with? It looked like he had his hands in his pockets all the time."

"That's what we'd like to know,” said Drake. "We think he might be carrying a stun gun or a taser. The view of his arm on the side away from the camera isn't very clear. If you can clean up the picture, we might be able to see if he's carrying anything."

Walsh tapped her teeth with a pencil, staring at the screen. "Hmm, maybe. He also could have used a Chemical Mace spray. That would explain why his attacker put his hands to his face

"Yeah, right," said Drake, ignoring the looks Ramsey was giving him behind Walsh's back. "When do you think we can have cleaned pictures?"

Walsh looked up from her keyboard. "Come back tomorrow afternoon. It should be ready by then. I'll have to charge you for the new CD, by the way."

"Just the CD?" asked Drake.

Walsh smiled. "Yes, just the CD. My time will be for free. I can use this to keep my hand in; it's a little while since I did anything like this."

            Walking back to the car, Ramsey raised his eyebrows at Drake.

"What was all that about a stunner. We both saw the sequence; he didn't move his hands out of his pockets."

"I don't want to give away too much at this stage," replied Drake. "Once she's cleaned up the CD, she'll see for herself. No doubt she'll have some questions to ask. We'll have to put her off as best as we can."

"She looked a smart girl," mused Ramsey. "She'll know what she's seeing as well as we do. What's the problem with her knowing what we know?"

"She doesn't know about the injuries and we're going to keep it that way. The less people with that information the better. Until we know what we're dealing with, I want to keep this as quiet as possible."

Ramsey turned his head sharply to Drake.

"Do you know something that I don't?" he asked.

Drake shook his head. "Nope, I've got nothing you haven't got. I just have a feeling about this one. I've never seen injuries like those men have got, I'm worried we're dealing with something new. I've been trying to think of a way a man could immobilise an attacker like we saw on the tape. So far except for a few way out ideas, I've come up with nothing."

They reached the car. Ramsey stared at Drake over the roof while he waited for Drake to unlock the doors. "Such as?" he asked.

Drake opened the doors and the two men climbed into the car. Drake busied himself locking his seat belt. He looked up.

"I was thinking of a dart gun, like the sort of thing used to immobilise wild animals. Another idea was some sort of gas gun. I even thought of a spray built into his coat. Like the Chemical Mace she mentioned. That would make an attacker jump backwards."

Ramsey smiled. "What like a joke button hole flower.”

Drake nodded. "Yeah, something like that. The problem is the strange injuries. I can’t think of anything that would cut the optic nerves or the spinal cord without cutting the skin.” He shook his head. “We're not going to get an answer until we catch this bloke." He nodded to the folder lying on Ramsey's lap. "We'll get copies of that picture and circulate it round the stations. That might bring us a result."

Chapter 7 New Chapter

                                                                  CHAPTER 7

            Appleby and Edwards sat on a bench in the police station. A man with bright ginger hair came into the reception area and approached them.

"I'm DS Ramsey, come with me please."

They followed Ramsey to an interview room and were ushered to chairs on one side of a table. They looked at each other and sat down, moving uneasily on the seats. The room was painted a stark white with a window high up on one wall. In spite of the heating, the room had an atmosphere of desolation as if the previous occupants had infected the walls as they sweated  and squirmed as their lies were exposed.

"There's nothing to worry about," reassured Ramsey, sitting down on the other side of the table. He deliberately ignored the tape recorder on the end of the table. "We just need some help with the incident in the underpass the other night."

"We did wonder," said Appleby. "It's a bit unusual to be called to a police station; we wondered what we'd done."

Ramsey smiled briefly. "I'd like you to tell me all you can remember about the man who showed you where the three men were. He was waiting at the entrance to the underpass wasn't he?"

Appleby nodded. "He only said a few words. Something like 'They're in there."

"Can you describe him?"

Appleby thought for a moment. "We didn't get a really good look at him; it was pissing down at the time. As far as I can remember, he wasn’t young, say about thirty five or forty."

"What was he wearing?"

"Just dark clothing, I can't say more than that." He looked at Edwards for support.

Edwards nodded. "Yeah, just a dark figure, I couldn't say what sort of clothes he was wearing."

"What nationality, can you remember," prompted Ramsey.

"Oh, he was white," replied Edwards. "He had dark hair, but he was definitely a white man."

Ramsey sat up in his chair. "You're sure about the hair."

Edwards and Appleby both nodded. Ramsey opened a folder and slid a picture across the table.

"This doesn't ring any bells then."

The two men stared at the picture. Slowly they shook their heads.

"No," said Edwards, "Nothing like him."

Ramsey looked at Appleby.

"I agree," said Appleby, this bloke's bald, not like the man we saw."

“Have another look,” said Ramsey tapping the picture. “Try to imagine this man with hair. Would it look anything like the man you saw?”

The two paramedics studied the picture again. They looked up shaking their heads.

“You’ve got to remember we only saw him for a moment,” said Appleby. He shook his head again. “I still don’t think he’s anything like the man we saw.”

Edwards nodded in agreement.

Ramsey slid the picture back into the folder. He looked across the table at the two men. “Would your control room have a log of the call, we might be able to trace him if they’ve kept the records.”

Appleby nodded. “I’m not sure how long they keep the records for. Best if you contact the centre and ask them.”

Ramsey nodded. He stood up. "Right, thank you gentlemen. I needn't detain you any longer."

Appleby looked up. "Is that it?"

Ramsey nodded and opened the door. He watched the two clearly puzzled paramedics walk out of the station. Ramsey sat back at the table. He picked up the picture and stared at it. The man’s face stared back at him. Ramsey frowned. Who was this man, how could he injure three men without taking his hands out of his pockets? It seemed he had a new weapon that could pass through flesh without leaving a mark. If it was a new weapon, how did he get hold of it. Was he some sort of mad inventor? He looked up as Henderson entered the room.

"You wanted to see me sir?"

Ramsey nodded and gestured for him to sit down.

"It's about that incident at the underpass last night. When you arrived at the scene, who was there, apart from the injured men."

Henderson thought for a moment. "I arrived a few minutes after the ambulance. I heard the call on my radio. As far as I can remember, there were just the two paramedics present."

"No one else?"

Henderson started to shake his head. "Oh yes, there was another ambulance, they picked up the third man. But that arrived later One of the paramedics from the first ambulance said there was a man pointing to where the injured men were, but he was gone by the time I got there."

"So you saw no one else, you're sure of that."

Henderson nodded firmly. "Positive.”

"You were alone in the car I take it," said Ramsey.

Henderson nodded again. "With this 'flu about, some of us are on our own. There're not enough bodies to go round."

Ramsey raised his eyebrows. "Tell me about it, I got lumbered arranging the new shift patterns." He sighed, “Still, that's not your problem." He opened up the folder and slid the picture across the table. "That man was attacked by the three men in the underpass. Take a good look. We're circulating it round all the local stations. You'll get your own copy later, you might as well see who we're looking for now. If you see him, don’t try and arrest him on your own, wait for backup.”

Henderson raised his eyebrows. "Arrest? I thought you said he was the one that was attacked."

Ramsey nodded slowly. "He was. We have a CD showing just that. Somehow he managed to fight them off.”

Henderson studied the picture. "He put those three lads on the floor? He doesn't look big enough."

“That’s why we want to interview him; we think he’s carrying a concealed weapon. Normally the victim of an assault who fought back would be invited to have a chat with us. We'd maybe caution or even arrest him for using excessive force if we felt the situation warranted it. This situation does warrant it. This man went way too far. Those three men will be crippled for life. He's to be considered dangerous. I want him off the streets." He gathered up the folder and rose from his seat. "OK, that's all; you can go back on duty now."

Chapter 8 New Chapter

                                                                           CHAPTER 8

Drake steered his car up to the two patrol cars parked at angles to the kerb, their roof lights flashing. Drake got out of his car and pushed his way through the small crowd of Christmas shoppers crowding the pavement. He walked over to Ramsey who was talking to one of the patrolmen. Ramsey looked round as Drake approached.

"What happened, asked Drake.

"Someone dialled three nines, said two policemen had collapsed. When the patrol cars arrived, they found two officers unconscious on the pavement. Their patrol car had been taken. It's been found a few streets away."

Drake frowned. "Forensic boys on their way?"

Ramsey nodded. "We’re finishing up here, the two patrolmen have been just been taken to hospital. I've got some uniforms guarding the car."

Drake nodded. “What happened, were they attacked?”

Ramsey shrugged. "The details are a bit hazy but we've got some witnesses who say they just collapsed onto the ground. Some of the witnesses remember there was a bald man talking to the policemen when it happened."

Drake's head came up. "A bald man?"

Ramsey nodded. "It looks like it was the same bloke from the underpass. We'll show the witnesses some pictures just to make sure, but from their descriptions it sounds like our man has struck again."

"Did any of the witnesses see who took the car?" asked Drake.

Ramsey shook his head. "They were too busy crowding round the patrolmen on the ground. It was only when we were taking statements they remember the car being driven away. I put out radio call and it was found within a few minutes. No sign of the driver of course."

Drake touched his arm. "I'm going to the hospital. Go to the car and brief the forensic boys when they get there. Join me as soon as you can. We've got to find out what happened to those two men."

            Ramsey walked through the hospital, looking at the signs over the doors. Clover ward, Buttercup ward, Peony ward. He raised his eyebrows, wondering who was responsible for the names. At least they hadn’t used the predictable Nightingale. The hospital seemed a maze of corridors. As Ramsey passed a pair of double doors, he caught a whiff of the smell all hospitals seemed to have. He was suddenly transported back to when he was seven years old, being rushed into hospital with an inflamed appendix. He shook his head, banishing the thought. He finally turned into what he thought was the right corridor and had his decision confirmed by the sight of a constable sitting on a chair outside a door. The constable rose to his feet as Ramsey approached him. Ramsey held out his warrant card and the constable briefly checked it and opened the door. Inside, he found Drake sitting on a chair at the end of two beds. Drake nodded to him in greeting. Two white-faced men lay on the beds, their heads propped up by pillows. They took no notice of Ramsey's arrival.

"How are they?" asked Ramsey.

"They're still groggy," replied Drake. "The doctor said we'll be able to talk to them in a short while." He rose from his chair. "Come on, well have a chat to the doctor, he didn't have time to give me any details when I first got here."

They walked down the corridor to a small office at the end. The doctor looked up from his note writing as they knocked on the half open door. Ramsey recognised him as the doctor they'd spoken to about the spinal injuries the previous week.

Lowell put down his pen as the two men entered his office. Drake lent on the desk.

"What can you tell us doctor? What happened to them?"

Lowell shook his head. "We couldn't find a thing wrong with them, there are no sign of injuries. It's as if they are coming round after being deeply asleep. We’ve taken blood samples to see if it was drug induced, we may know more when we get the results back."  He lent back in his chair and spread his hands. "So far we're at a loss to account for it. Maybe they can shed some light on it when they recover."

Drake stared at him intently. "They will recover then?"

Lowell nodded. "As far as we can tell, yes. When they were picked up, they were unconscious but they were starting to come round when they were brought in, at their rate of recovery, I would imagine they’d be fully conscious very soon.” He stared at Drake and Ramsey. "We were hoping you might shed some light on this. Coming so soon after those men we treated last week, it seems some sort of pattern is emerging. Two sets of inexplicable cases, one after another. It's got us worried what we'll be seeing next."

“We wondered if a stun gun or a taser was used on them, were there any marks on their bodies, anything like a burn mark or puncture wounds where a dart could have struck them?” asked Ramsey.

Lowell slowly shook his head. “No, nothing like that. We looked for signs of injection marks and we certainly wouldn’t have missed the mark of a stun gun.”

“You’re familiar with these things then,” asked Drake.

Lowell smiled faintly. “We try to keep up to date. They’re in use in America; it’s only a matter of time before they appear over here.” He paused. “So you have no idea what was used on your officers.”

Drake paused for a second before answering. "We think our two patrolmen were attacked by the same man who caused the injuries to the three men last week. We can't be sure, but it seems likely. At the moment, we're as much in the dark as you are."

Lowell frowned. "Not very satisfactory is it. Do you think this man will strike again?"

Drake shook his head. "We have no way of knowing.” He lent up from the desk and turned towards the door, gesturing Ramsey to follow him. “We'll have a chat to our two patrolmen, that might get us some more information. We'll see if they're awake now, we'll keep you informed." At the door, he paused and looked back. “By the way, how are the three men from the underpass?”

Lowell made a helpless gesture with his hands. “Two of them have been transferred to the spinal injuries unit at Rohampton, the other is at Moorfields eye hospital. I’m afraid I don’t hold out much hope for any of them. I think their injuries are permanent.”

Drake nodded and left the room without comment, Ramsey trailing behind him.

            Re-entering the side room, Drake and Ramsey saw the men had made a remarkable recovery. They were both talking to the constable. He nodded to the two detectives and resumed his position outside the door. Drake and Ramsey stood by the beds and showed their warrant cards.

"You are Austin and Bowman, right?" enquired Drake.

The two men nodded.

"Are you up to telling us what happened?"

Bowman looked at Austin. He cleared his throat.

"We were driving down the high street when John here," he gestured at Austin, "spotted the man in the photograph we'd been issued. He was walking down the street as large as life. We pulled over and got out and waited for him to catch up with us."

Austin took up the story. "We approached him and asked him to accompany us to the station. That's as far as we got. Andrew collapsed in front of me. Then I woke up here. I suppose I must have collapsed too."

"Are you both sure it was the man in the picture," said Drake.

Both men nodded. "No doubt about it," said Austin with certainty.

"Did either of you see any sort of weapon, a dart gun or a small gas cylinder for instance," asked Drake.

Both men shook their heads. "It happened so fast, we didn't have time to see anything," said Austin.

"And that's all you remember." pressed Drake.

The men nodded.

Drake sighed. "OK, get some rest. We'll send a car for you as soon as the doc says it's all right for you to go home."

            The two detectives left the hospital. The wind swirled round the open space of the car park like a live thing. It plucked at their clothes and danced small pieces of paper around their feet as they walked to their cars. Ramsey pulled up the collar of his coat and hunched his shoulders, dreaming of his Christmas leave.

"What did the forensic bods have to say," asked Drake.

Ramsey replied without turning his head, trying to prevent the wind probing its icy fingers down his collar.

"The car was found with the driver’s door open and the keys in the ignition," he said. "I don't think the patrolmen would have left it unlocked, so it looks like our man must have lifted the keys from them after he put them on the ground. They were loading it onto a transporter when I left. They'll send us a report of their findings in due course."

"Hmm," muttered Drake. A thought occurred to him. "That CD we were having enhanced, was it any clearer?"

"I haven't had time to go back to the university yet," replied Ramsey, I've been rather busy with the house to house enquiries on the Peterson murder."

"I'll put someone else on that. From now in this is your top priority," said Drake. "Get yourself over to the university and pick up that CD. I want to see what it shows."

Ramsey raised his eyebrows. "You think this is more important than an old man being murdered in his own home?"

Drake nodded. "We've had five people attacked by this man, three seriously. I want this man found before he maybe commits a murder. We can thank our lucky stars our patrolmen didn't end up like the men in the underpass."

Ramsey thought for a moment. "Do you think he held back because they were policemen?"

Drake pondered for a moment. "It's a thought. Though they didn't attack him like the other three. We still don't know how he did it. First three crippling injuries, then two men unconscious." He frowned. "How the hell does he do it?" He turned to Ramsey, his face set. "Get that CD. I'll go back to the station and sort out a replacement for the Peterson case. I'll see you there."

Ramsey watched as Drake drove out of the hospital car park. He shrugged and climbed into his own car and headed for the university.

Debbie Walsh rose to greet him as Ramsey entered her office.

"I was wondering when you would come back, she said. “ I was thinking of phoning the police station, but I guessed you must be busy."

She turned to a filing cabinet behind her and unlocked it. She pulled out two CD jewel boxes and held them up. "This is what you came for?"

Ramsey nodded. "How did it come out, any improvement?"

"Come with me," replied Walsh, "I'll show you." She handed him a CD. "That's your original."

Ramsey followed her to the console and watched as she loaded the CD. Walsh pressed buttons and an image appeared on the screen.

"I've set it on a loop, it repeats about every twenty five seconds," said Walsh. "There're six repeats, it'll save you having to rewind each time." She watched the moving figures on the screen. "I've also fiddled with the contrast, it helps to see more detail," she added.

Ramsey bent down and rested his hands on the table. He watched as the loop repeated itself. He glanced sideways suddenly aware he was under intense scrutiny. Walsh was staring at him, absorbing his reaction to the pictures. He locked eyes with her.

Walsh returned his stare. "That man never took his hands out of his pockets throughout the whole attack," she said, "just what are we dealing with here."

"We," echoed Ramsey. "I think your involvement ends here doctor." He smiled to soften the abrupt tone of his reply. "You've been very helpful, but this is a police matter."

Walsh smiled back at him. "You can't help me being curious. Three men knocked to the ground without a finger being laid on them. He could be using some sort of electronic device like a taser. I'd have thought an expert in electronics would be helpful in your investigation."

Ramsey smiled. "And the nearest expert to hand would be you, I take it?"

"Might be," said Walsh with a smile. "I wouldn't push myself forward of course… ."

"But if asked you would accept," interrupted Ramsey.

Walsh's eyes sparkled. "I might," she said.

Ramsey took a long second to study her. She was looking up at him, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open. The signs seemed promising, he decided to go for it.

"Perhaps we could talk about it over a drink."

"Sounds good." Walsh looked at her watch. "I get off in about half an hour, when will you be free?"

Ramsey was momentarily taken aback at her quick response. He quickly recovered. "Not until about seven tonight, I have some things to clear up back at the station."

Walsh removed the CD, clipped it into the jewel box and passed it to Ramsey. She walked back to her desk and quickly scribbled on a piece of paper. "There's my address, pick me up about eight."

Ramsey put the paper in his pocket and nodded. "Well, I'd better be off. As I said, I've a few things to clear up." He lifted the CD’s. "Thanks for these." He turned to leave the office and was stopped at the door by Walsh's call.

"By the way, it's Debbie."

Ramsey nodded. "Duncan," he replied.

He turned and left the office. As he walked out of the building, he congratulated himself on a smooth pull. He thought back on their conversation and his congratulatory mood faltered. Who had pulled who? He wiped his muddy shoes on the grass before climbing into his car. He realised he was looking forward to this evening with more than the usual anticipation.

Chapter 9 New Chapter

                                                                      CHAPTER 9

Chief Inspector Edwin Painter sat on the edge of a desk as a stream of officers filed into the briefing room. The first in quickly commandeered the small number of available chairs, the rest perched on the corner of desks or leant against the wall.

Painter waited until the hubbub of conversation died away and tapped on the desk with a pencil to gain attention.

"Right, pay attention. This meeting is to bring you up to date with the incident in the underpass last week. You've all been issued with pictures of the man we want to interview." He paused, looking round the room to make sure he had everyone's attention. "Since we issued the pictures, things have got more serious. No doubt you've all heard about the two patrolmen that were attacked yesterday. From descriptions we've gathered, we're almost certain the attack was carried out by the same man. We now have an enhanced CD of the incident in the underpass; I want you to study it closely. DI Drake and DS Ramsey are handling the case, I'll let them take over from now."

He turned to Drake and Ramsey standing next to him and nodded.  Drake stepped forward tapping the TV remote control in the palm of his hand. He gave a brief outline of the events in the underpass, ignoring the muted conversations starting between some of the officers. He switched on the CD player. Mounted high on the wall a large TV monitor lit up. The officers fell silent as a picture of the underpass appeared on the screen. Drake let it run through three times and switched off the TV.

"Any comments?" he asked.

The room suddenly filled with conversation.

"One at a time please,” said Drake loudly.

A WPC sitting in the front of the room raised her hand. "What did he hit them with? Even with the cleaned up picture, I still can't see how he did it."

"You looked at the original CCTV footage, didn't you?" asked Drake.

The girl nodded. "I thought it weird at the time, I assumed the cleaned up picture would show more details.” She shook her head. “It doesn't."

Drake nodded.  “That’s right. The video raises more questions than answers. It’s obvious the man kept his hands in his pockets throughout the attack. We’re assuming he had some sort of weapon in his pocket but for the moment, that’s pure speculation. We have no idea how he disabled the three men. The only person who maybe could help is the man who called the ambulance. He called from a phone box and he didn’t give his name, so unless he comes forward and tells us what he saw, the video is our only clue as to what went on. Which leads us to the incident yesterday. He was seen by two patrolmen in the high street. They approached him and the next thing they remember is waking up in hospital. They had no puncture marks or sign of drugs in their bodies so it rules out any sort of dart or gas gun. We’ve also ruled out a stun gun or a taser. The doctor treating them said they appeared to be deeply asleep, nothing more. They made a full recovery with no apparent ill effects. The three men he attacked in the underpass were not so lucky; they’ll be disabled for life. Two of them will never walk again and the other has lost his sight. This man appears to disable and put his attackers on the floor without lifting a finger, it’s imperative we arrest him before he kills someone. "

A detective lounging in a chair sat up. "If he can do that, how the hell are we supposed to arrest him? The same thing could happen to us."

"I'm coming to that," said Drake. "If this man is seen again, he is not to be approached. Uniforms will report directly to Ramsey or me. On no account try to follow him, you'd be too easily spotted. Detectives will follow discreetly if they happen to see him, though I'm not holding out much hope with this, you don't patrol like the uniform branch. I must emphasise the importance of calling in before you do anything regarding this man. We must find out where he lives if we've any hope of detaining him."

A detective leaning against the wall raised his finger for attention. "Then what, call in the SAS?"

There was a burst of laughter in the room. When it subsided, Drake nodded slowly. "That might be necessary."

The detective stood away from the wall. "You're not serious. For one man?"

"I'm deadly serious," replied Drake. "The injuries to the three men have the doctors completely baffled, they've never seen anything like it before. We asked the MOD for help but they couldn’t offer any explanation either. The fact that some sort of unknown weapon may be involved has aroused interest at the highest levels. Catching this man is now a top priority but I don’t want you take any chances. Remember what he’s done so far, I don't want any of you to suffer the same. Whatever he did to the two patrolmen was not as serious as the incident in the underpass, but I don't want to push our luck. I don't think it'll come to the SAS, but we'll certainly be calling in an armed response unit when we find him. This man’s had a go at two of our own, we can’t allow that."

A hand was raised and Drake nodded to the detective. “Yes?”

“You said you talked to the MOD, couldn’t they give you even a hint of what he might have used on the three men?”

Drake shook his head. “They wouldn’t commit themselves. The people we talked to offered a few half-hearted suggestions, mainly thin bladed knives. We know for a fact knives were not used, there’re no puncture wounds on the skin. You’ve seen the video, it shows the two men with the cut spinal cords were some way away from the man when they fell over. DS Ramsey and I have also talked to the medical staff treating the men. One of them raised the possibility of a laser. It seems if you choose the right wavelength, the beam will pass through the skin without damaging it. This sort of laser is used to remove birthmarks and tattoos and the like.”

“Wouldn’t a laser show up on the video,” asked a detective. “I didn’t see anything.”

Drake shook his head. “Forget what you’ve seen in films, most laser beams are invisible unless they’re shining through smoke or something like that.”

The detective frowned. He sat forwards in his seat. “If it was a laser, what sort of size are we talking about?”

“A laser diode can be as small as my little finger; a helium neon laser is about two feet long and a couple of inches in diameter. Other types can get a lot bigger.” Drake shook his head. “Forget about lasers, it wasn’t a serious suggestion, those lasers couldn’t have caused the injuries the men have. I think that’s a blind alley.”

“You’re sure about that?” questioned the detective.

Drake smiled briefly. “The doctor gave us a crash course in lasers and their uses. From what he told us, I’m pretty sure it’s not a laser we’re dealing with.” He raised his hands and dropped them to his sides. “I have to admit we don’t know what he’s using, but whatever it is, it’s bloody effective. That’s why I must emphasise he is not to be approached.”

“What about the three men, have they been interviewed?”

Drake nodded. “They’re all in a state of shock so we couldn’t get much from them. At first, they wouldn’t admit attacking the man, but when we told them about the CD, they came clean. Their accounts are not very coherent; they just confirmed what the CD shows us. Seeing the man on his own, they thought he’d be easy to rob. You can see from the pictures, he’s very slightly built. Well, it all went badly wrong for them. Because of that one stupid idea, two lost the use of their legs and the other went blind. We might get more from them later on but I doubt it, being told you’re paralysed or blind for life takes some getting used to. It might be months before we get anything useful from them. We did ask them if they knew the man, but they all denied seeing him before. ”

Another detective raised his hand. "I'd heard the patrol car was taken, any forensics on that?"

Drake shook his head. "A few smudges on the steering wheel. The only prints we found were from the patrolman.”

An officer raised his hand. “What about the papers or TV? An appeal for help might bring some results.”

Drake shook his head. “We’ve already thought of that, but the top brass have ruled it out. The MOD also want as little publicity as possible. If some new weapon is involved and on the evidence it is, they don’t want this man warned we’re after him.”

“He must know that already,” protested the officer, “after all he knocked those two patrol men down as soon as they approached him.”

“That’s true,” replied Drake. “Nevertheless, there’s to be no publicity about this case. The doctors have already been briefed. All the media know, is three men were injured in a fight in the underpass, the nature of those injuries is not to be made public, even the men’s families are being kept in the dark, so no talk outside the force, all right?”

The officer frowned. “That’s not going to help us much; it’ll be like working with one hand tied behind our backs.”

Drake nodded in agreement. “Until we hear otherwise, that’s the way it’s going to be, so we’ll have to make the best of it. At the moment all we have to go on is the picture, so keep your eyes open."

Christmas came and went. The Christmas decorations in the station reception seemed stale and forlorn in the cold light of the New Year and were quickly taken down. Ramsey settled back into his routine after his break. He was writing up his notes on his computer when Drake put his head round the door.

"Stop what you're doing and come with me, our mystery man's been seen."

Three and a half weeks had passed since the incident with the patrolmen and Ramsey had put the matter to the back of his mind. He'd also had other distractions. After his first date with Debbie Walsh, their relationship had progressed to the point where they were meeting three times a week. He’d taken her to a pub for their first date and he’d chosen carefully. The pub was small and quiet, with olde worlde beams, rough plaster and cosy inglenooks. Copper warming pans and old lamps hanging on the walls gleamed in the soft light, all adding to the feeling of intimacy. It was all fake of course, the pub was only ten years old, but Ramsey liked it. They’d sat at a corner table, talking over their glasses. She’d changed from her severe business suit to a dress, which showed off her figure to full effect. Her conversation was sparkling; there were none of the awkward silences that had punctuated some of his previous dates. In a few hours, they’d swapped their life stories. She told him of her time at university and the intensive work involved gaining her doctorate. Ramsey was impressed. His own time at university had been the usual round of drinking interspersed with periods of frantic bouts of study to catch up with his course work. Once he’d got his degree, he’d had enough, he left with no thought of further study, and no clear plan for his future. Once he decided to join the police, his degree helped him to fast track through the ranks as a graduate entrant and he’d entertained her from his fund of stories from his police work. They were both surprised when the closing time bell rang. The evening had passed all too quickly and they’d agreed to meet again. He was pleasantly surprised to find she was one of the few women he'd met that didn't find his bright ginger hair a turn off. He hadn’t been to bed with her yet, but it was a definite fixture for some time in the future. Ramsey did a quick back-up and turned off his computer. He followed Drake out of the room.

"Where is he?" he asked.

"He was seen by a uniform going into that big electronics store on the high street. That place is always crowded; it could take him ages to be served. If we don’t hang about, he might still be there. If he does leave, I told the PC to keep his distance and make a note were he goes. He’ll point us in the right direction when we get there. If we can follow him, we might find out where he lives."

"Are we going for him?" asked Ramsey.

"Not a chance," replied Drake. "Once we know where he lives, we'll call in the heavy mob."

Chapter 10 New Chapter

                                                                    CHAPTER 10

They left the police station and drove towards the centre of town. The January sales were in full swing and the high street swarmed with people. They drove around looking for a place to park and quickly realised they had no chance of parking near the electronics  store. At the end of the high street, a large supermarket car park offered the best hope. Drake drove through the entrance and paused. Searching for empty spaces, cars weaved around the shoppers pushing their trolleys like sharks circling minnows. Seeing his opportunity, Drake forced his way into the park and started circling. After a couple of circuits, he saw a woman backing a large four wheel drive out of a space. “That’s for me”,  he breathed to himself and ignoring the scowl  of another motorist who was trying to line up for the space, drove past him and parked the car.

They left the car park and walked down the high street, moving quickly between the crowds of shoppers. A uniformed policeman, standing outside a shop talking to the shopkeeper recognised Drake. He nodded towards the electronics store on the other side of the road. Drake nodded back and the two detectives crossed the road. They approached the store.

"Do we go in?" asked Ramsey.

"I'll go alone," replied Drake. "Your red hair stands out too much, he might remember you when we follow him."

Drake entered the store and picked up a handful of leaflets from a stand. As he’d accurately guessed, the store was packed with shoppers. He glanced casually round the room and spotting the man, sauntered out. He rejoined Ramsey waiting patiently outside.

Ramsey raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

Drake nodded. "It's him all right, come on."

They walked down the street to the next shop and stood in the doorway. Ten minutes later, they saw the man come out onto the pavement, his bald head standing out among the other shoppers. They followed at a discreet distance, stopping at intervals as the man entered other shops along the high street. Ramsey made quick notes of the shops he visited.

"Apart from the electronics place, he's visited three food shops." Ramsey looked at his watch; they'd been out for two hours. "He doesn't appear to be in any sort of hurry, I wonder when he'll head for home."

Drake frowned. "We're getting a bit far from our car.” He looked at the cars parked in the bays lining the high street. “If he's got transport, we'll be left flatfooted."

He pulled out his radio and spoke into it for a few minutes.

"I've asked for a couple more detectives to wait at the end of the high street in a car. If he does take off, we can still keep tabs on him."

Their target continued along the high street and joined a short line of people waiting at a bus stop.

"Looks like he's finished his shopping," mused Drake. "I'll call up the other car." He spoke briefly into his radio.

A few minutes later, a car drew up next to them. Recognising the two detective constables inside, Drake and Ramsey got in. Lisa Marley, sitting behind the wheel, looked over her shoulder at Drake.

"What do you want us to do sir?"

Drake pointed through the windscreen. "Our man is waiting at that bus stop on the other side of the road. Go back down the road and turn round. Park so we can see which bus he catches. Then follow discreetly. I want to see where he gets off."

Marley nodded and started the car. She drove down the high street until she came to a side street and turned the car. Re-entering the high street, she moved towards the bus stop. She ruefully surveyed the line of parked cars crowding the street.

“There’s nowhere to park sir, what do you want me to do?”

Drake pointed to a side street fifty yards from the bus stop. “Turn into that street and turn round. Park near the front of the street. We should be able to see him from there.”

Once they were parked  Steven Abbot, sitting next to Marley, swung round in his seat. "When he gets out do you want us to come with you?"

Drake shook his head. "No, I think four of us would stand out a bit too much. Ramsey and I will follow him on our own. We'll try and find out where he lives. After that we can arrange a surveillance team to keep tabs on him until we can arrange an armed response team to take him."

"You think he's that dangerous?" said Marley.

"You were at the briefing," replied Drake. "You know what he did to those three men and our two patrolmen. I'm taking no chances. We'll find out where he lives and leave it to the specialist to take him. When we leave the car, go back to the supermarket car park and pick up my car." He tore a page from his notebook. "That's the make and registration number." He passed the page to Abbot along with a set of keys. "Leave it near where he gets off the bus; we can pick it up later."

Abbot jangled the keys in his hand. "What about these? How will you get in?"

Drake patted his pocket. "I have a spare set, I'm not completely gaga. Leave the keys at the front desk; I'll pick them up later."

Abbot smiled sheepishly trying to ignore the broad grin of Marley sitting next to him. She turned and looked out of the side window as her grin threatened to break out into a full-blown laugh. Her face straightened as a bus passed them and stopped. The weak afternoon sunlight reflected from the bus, turning the faces of the queue a pale pink. The detectives watched intently as the bus pulled away. The man was still with the small queue of people waiting. They relaxed back in their seats.

"How many buses use this stop, does anybody know?" asked Ramsey.

Abbot shrugged his shoulders. "No idea, I haven't been on a bus for years."

Marley shook her head. "Me neither."

A shadow appeared at the drivers window. Marley looked up. A traffic warden tapped on the window.

“You’re on double yellow lines, you can’t park here.”

Drake lent forward holding up his warrant card. “Police business, buzz off.”

The traffic warden took a step back, his face working. “All right, all right, how was I to know.”

“Well you know now,” replied Drake. “Now move, you’re attracting attention to us.”

The warden moved away, his lips moving as he grumbled to himself.

Marley smiled. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Drake smiled back at her. “Privileges of rank.”

card.

lent forward holding up his warrent arley looked up. A traffic warden tapped on the window.

  A silence settled over the car as they waited. The inside of the car started to warm up. Ramsey wound down his window and lent out, letting the breeze cool his face. A quarter of an hour later, another bus pulled up at the stop. When it moved off, the queue was gone.

"That's it," said Drake sharply, "Follow that bus."

Chapter 11 New Chapter

CHAPTER 11

            Marley drove expertly through the traffic, keeping her distance from the bus. Every time it stopped, she pulled into the kerb and waited. On the outskirts of the town, the bus pulled up near a large housing estate and their man got off. Marley drove up near the bus stop and Drake and Ramsey got out of the car. Drake bent down to the driver’s window.

"Leave my car here. Once you've done that, go back to the station and report where we are. We'll keep in touch by radio. If we need help I'll call in."

Marley nodded and pulled away from the kerb. Drake and Ramsey strolled in the same direction as the man as he walked into the estate. Ramsey quickened his pace only to be pulled back by Drake’s arm. He stopped and lit a cigarette. Drake put his lighter back in his pocket. “Easy now, not too fast.”

Ramsey nodded, he hadn’t realised he was hurrying. “Yeah, sorry.”

Drake nodded at the man in front of them. “It’s a big place but it’s open, we won’t loose him.”

Ramsey looked around. Blocks of flats were scattered in a seemingly random pattern among the grass and shrubs. In the distance, he could see a children’s playground, the swings and roundabouts looking forlorn and still in the winter sunshine. Small trees lined the paths, their branches bare. Soggy fallen leaves lay underfoot. Roads looped around the blocks with car parking spaces near each front entrance. Ahead of them, they could see their target passing the first two blocks. He entered the door of a third and vanished from sight.

The two detectives continued walking until they rounded the corner of the next block. Ramsey put his head round the corner and took a quick look at the block the man had entered.

"Now what. He could be in any one of those flats."

Drake looked up at the building they were standing next to, counting the floors and windows. "There're three floors, with flats on each side. That’s six flats in each block; we'll have to knock on each door until we find him."

Ramsey turned sharply to Drake. “What, I thought you said he wasn’t to be approached.”

“This is different,” replied Drake. “I was talking mainly to the uniformed branch. Anyway I don’t propose to knock at the doors holding out my warrant card.”

Ramsey frowned. “I still don’t like it, supposing he recognises us as policemen? We could end up like those patrolmen.”

“Why should he think we’re police,” replied Drake. “It’s been several weeks since he had that run in with the patrolmen. All sorts of people knock on doors. We could be door to door salesmen, canvassing politicians, anything.”

 "Well, I still think it’s a bit dodgy," replied Ramsey. "I think we'll look as suspicious as hell."

"I think we can get round that," countered Drake. "What would you think if a couple of reasonably dressed men knocked on your door wanting to talk to you about religion?"

Ramsey raised his eyebrows. "God shouters?"

Drake nodded.

“Well if they knocked on my door, I’d be pissed off. They usually come just when I’m eating my dinner,” said Ramsey.

“You might be pissed off but you wouldn’t be suspicious would you,” said Drake.

Ramsey thought for a minute and reluctantly nodded. He sighed. "OK, I'm game, who will we be?"

Drake smiled. "I'll think of something. Just hang back, let me do the talking."

They walked across the green and entered the block, ringing the bell on the first ground floor flat. The door opened a crack and a watery eye gazed at them.

"Good afternoon madam,” said Drake smoothly. "We're from the church of Joseph and the twelve disciples, I wonder if you've thought about salvation through prayer."

The eye blinked a couple of times. The door opened wider, revealing a woman's face pursed into a frown.

"No, bugger off." The door slammed shut.

Drake shrugged and turned to the door opposite. This time a burly middle-aged man opened the door. Faded tattoos covered his arms. Drake had only started the first sentence when the man held up his hand.

"I don't hold with religion," he said sharply, “don’t bother me again."

Drake stepped back as the door was firmly closed in his face.  Ramsey grinned at him. "Not much of the old Christian spirit around here."

"Well, from the reaction so far, we must look the part," replied Drake.

Ramsey thought for a moment. “I’ve just had a horrible thought. What do we do if someone invites us in?”

Drake shook his head slowly. “No-one ever does. If we’re really unlucky and it happens to us, we’ll tell ‘em we’ll call back tomorrow.”

Ramsey chuckled. “Joseph and the twelve disciples. How the hell did you think that one up?”

“It just came to me, that’s all,” replied Drake.

Ramsey raised his eyebrows. “Divine inspiration?”

“Bollocks,” replied Drake. “Come on, let's try upstairs."

Their footsteps echoed through the hall as they climbed the concrete stairs to the middle pair of flats. Drake knocked on the first door. As the door opened, Ramsey tried to keep his features composed as a thin bald man stood framed in the doorway.

Drake started his speech. "Good afternoon sir. We're from the church of Joseph and the twelve disciples… .." He faltered as the man shook his head.

"No you're not," he said.

Chapter 12 New Chapter

                                                                     CHAPTER 12

Ramsey stirred and opened his eyes, not sure where he was. All he could see was an endless expanse of dirty white crisscrossed with thin dark lines. As his head cleared he realised he was lying on a floor looking up at the cracked ceiling of a room. He could feel soft carpet under his head. Drake lay next to him, his head moving fitfully. A small noise jerked Ramsey's head round. Through the door of the room, he could see down a short hallway. The bald headed man had just closed the front door to the flat. He walked down the hall and entered the room. He closed the door and stared down at Ramsey. From Ramsey’s position on the floor, the man seemed as tall and thin as a garden cane. He wore a white, short sleeve shirt and dark trousers. His feet were bare. As Ramsey’s head cleared, he attempted to climb to his feet and realised to his horror he couldn't move his body below the neck. He fought to control the rising panic threatening to overwhelm him. He swallowed convulsively and stared at the man. "What have you done to me?"

"Don't try to move, you can't."

The man's voice was quiet like rustling leaves. Ramsey relaxed trembling neck muscles and allowed his head flop back onto the floor. The man reached down, grabbing the front of the jackets of the prone men. He lifted them up and carried them to a settee, throwing them roughly down. Ramsey's head flopped backwards and forwards as he bounced on the cushions. The man had picked them up as if they weighed nothing, with a strength that didn't seem possible. As he'd picked them up, Ramsey could see the tendons and muscles standing out in stark relief on his arms, he seemed to have barely enough muscle to support himself, let alone pick up two fully-grown men. He was thin to the point of emaciation. His shirt hung on him as if it were on a clothes hanger. His cheekbones were two sharp points, counter pointing the thin beak of his nose. His eyes were brilliant green that stared at Ramsey from under a heavy brow ridge. His eyebrows were thick and heavy in stark contrast to the rest of his head, which was hairless. To Ramsey, he looked like a cancer victim suffering the effects of an aggressive chemotherapy regime. He lay helpless as the man searched his pockets, laying his possessions on a table. Satisfied Ramsey's pockets were empty; he bent over Drake, roughly turning him over to reach his pockets. He laid the contents in a pile next to Ramsey's and began methodically sorting through the wallets and papers. Ramsey turned his head and looked at Drake, who had regained consciousness.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

He was cut off by a sharp retort from the man.

"Shut up or I'll close your mouth for you."

Ramsey shut his mouth. He watched in silence as the man finished sorting through their belongings. He held up Ramsey's warrant card.

"Police?"

Ramsey tried to reply and found his mouth so dry he couldn’t talk, his tongue sticking the inside of his mouth. He licked his lips. "Yes".

The man turned to Drake. "You as well?"

"Yes, me as well," replied Drake.

The man dropped the items on to the table. He stirred them with his hand. He sighed. "It was only a matter of time." He lifted his head and stared at the two men. "The question is, what am I going to do with you."

"You could let us go," said Drake.

The man looked at Drake with a look of withering contempt. "Don't be stupid."

"What are you going to do with us then?" asked Drake quietly.

The man waved his hand. "I haven't decided yet.” He sighed. “I knew it was only a matter of time before I came to the attention of the police. It was those three men in the underpass, wasn't it?”

Drake nodded.

"They took me by surprise, I acted instinctively. As soon as I'd put them down, I guessed there'd be trouble."

 "Why not give yourself up," said Drake. "We can't promise you anything, but you'll get a fair trial. We know those men attacked you. You could plead self defence."

"Not a chance," replied the man. "It might be best for me if you both just disappear."

Ramsey felt a rising panic as he desperately tried to move. He could feel nothing below his shoulders; he guessed Drake was the same. He realised they were completely at the mercy of the man. He licked his lips, staring up at him.  "You know we're police officers,” he gasped. “Our colleagues know where we are. If we disappear, there'll be a manhunt like you've never seen."

The man was silent, frown lines creasing his forehead.

"Don’t you see, you can't just get rid of us," said Ramsey desperately.

"Shut up," said the man, "I'm thinking."

"I've got to make you see… .." began Ramsey.

The man lifted his head, his eyes blazing like emeralds. "I said shut up."

Ramsey felt his throat constrict, shutting of his airway. His chest heaved as he struggled to suck air into his lungs. His sight faded as he started to lose consciousness, his vision contracting until all he could see was a pair of green eyes looking dispassionately at him. Suddenly his throat opened and he gulped air in a convulsive intake of breath.

The man stared at him. "When I tell you to shut up, you'll shut up. Is that clear?"

Ramsey could only nod, his burning lungs preventing speech. He was more frightened than he'd ever been in his life

"What have you done to us?" whispered Drake.

"I might tell you later," said the man, "If I let you live. For now shut up the both of you, I have to think."

He left them, closing the door behind him. A silence descended on the room, broken only by the shallow breathing of the two detectives. Ramsey painfully turned his head and looked at Drake.

“Go on, say it. You were right and I was wrong,” said Drake huskily.

Ramsey winced. “Too late for that now. What the hell has he done to us? Can you remember what happened at the door?”

Drake shook his head. “I’d only spoken a few words, the next thing I remember is waking up on the floor, you?”

Ramsey coughed; the effort to talk was straining his throat. He slowly relaxed his head back on the cushions. “No, nothing. More to the point how the hell are we going to get out of this?”

Drake shook his head and relaxed back on the settee. Both men slumped on the cushions, powerless to move.

            Ramsey and Drake looked up as the door opened. The man walked to the table carrying a glass of water and a plate of raw vegetables. He sat down at the table and gulped noisily from the glass. He pushed the vegetables into his mouth, biting off chunks with large yellow teeth. His gums were a bright pink in contrast to his thin pale lips. The man stared at the two men.

"I’m going to let you live, on one condition. You'll do as I say without exception, do you understand?"

Both men nodded, hope rising in them.

"I know what you're thinking," continued the man. "As soon as you get out of here, you'll call in your men to arrest me. Well, that's not going to happen." He stood up and moved to the far side of the room. "I'm going to release you now. If you make any move towards me, I'll knock you down. Do I make myself clear?"

They nodded again, wondering what would happen. A few seconds passed then the detectives were aware of the feeling returning to their bodies. Drake and Ramsey twitched as they suffered the worse case of pins and needles they had ever experienced, their cramped muscles sending shooting pains through their limbs. The man watched as the detectives massaged their legs, trying to work out the knots in their thighs and calves.

"Painful isn't it?" said the man. "Remember this; it might deter you from stupid actions in the future. I've decided I can make use of you. You’re in a perfect position to make sure any investigation concerning me comes to nothing. If I think either of you are trying to be too clever, I'll strike you down. Maybe a heart attack or a stroke. Whatever, I'll make sure it's as painful as possible."

Ramsey's head came up. "How, how can you do that?"

"I know how your internal organs interact with each other,” replied the man, “I can control those interactions.” He paused. “Or stop them interacting altogether if I want to.”

"That's impossible," said Drake flatly.

The man looked at Drake, slowly shaking his head. "Stupid," he mused. "I’d have thought what I did to you at the door would be proof enough.” He stabbed a finger at Drake. “Listen you fool, as soon as I saw you on my doorstep, I stimulated the sleep centre in your brains, then I put a clamp on certain nerves in your neck. It stopped any voluntary movement while allowing your autonomic systems like breathing to continue." He stared at the two detectives. “The only reason I’m telling you this is to make you realise you how complete my control is over both of you.”

"That's rubbish," said Drake. "You must have used drugs or something."

"And I suppose I removed the effects of the drug from the other side of the room. Really, I expected a more intelligent response from a policeman."

Drake fumbled for words, "Well… "

"You're denying the evidence of your own eyes, your own body?" said the man.

"No," said Drake, "but it's humanly impossible for anyone to do that… " He trailed off as the full implications of what he was saying struck home. "Are you telling us you're not human?" he faltered.

The man nodded. "I was wondering how long it would take you to work that out."

Ramsey was quiet for a moment as he struggled to come to terms with what he was hearing. He stared up at the man. Apart from his emaciated appearance, he looked the same as any other man on the street. He swallowed convulsively, wondering what the man’s clothes were hiding. He fought to control himself. “If you’re not human, where do you come from?" he asked.

"You wouldn't understand if I told you," replied the man. "Let's just say it's a long way from here." He stared down at the two detectives. “I see you’re still doubting me, I suggest you make up your minds quickly, your lives depend on you reaching the correct conclusion.” He thrust his face forwards. “You’ve seen what I can do to spinal chords; I could cut yours as a demonstration if you wish.”

Ramsey gulped. “No, we believe you,” he said quickly.

The man nodded with satisfaction. “Good. With belief comes acceptance. With acceptance comes obedience.” It sounded if he was repeating a catechism. “If you disobey me, it might not be just your sleep centres I stimulate; there are many other nerves in your body I can work on.”

In spite of their situation, Ramsey was burning with curiosity. “Is that what you did to the patrolmen,” he asked. “Stimulated their sleep centres?”

The man nodded. “They didn’t attack me, it was only necessary to put them to sleep so I could get away. I paralysed you so once I woke you up; I could deal with you without resistance.”

The detectives sat in silence for a moment. They were thinking of the men in underpass struggling to come to terms with their paralysis and blindness. In the space of ten seconds, their whole world had changed.  Ramsey and Drake sat staring at the man, their minds racing. They knew now without doubt they were facing the man responsible for the men’s injuries. The way he’d casually crippled the three men showed a complete disregard for the lives of others. It was only a matter of luck that he and Drake were not in the same state. Ramsey looked at Drake then back to the man. He spoke, choosing his words carefully. "Can you tell us why you are here then," he asked.

The man looked at Ramsey as if considering whether to answer. Finally, he nodded to himself. "Not from choice,” he said. “I had a major power failure. I crashed into the sea to the north of this country. I've been stuck here for over a hundred years waiting for you people to advance your technology so I can get the parts I need to repair my ship. I've had time to grow sick and tired of this place and your disgusting food."         

Ramsey's mouth fell open. "A hundred years? Christ, how old are you?"

The man waived his hand in dismissal. "When I first landed, I had to take time to learn your language, then I had to invent an identity for myself. That was a mistake. I managed to avoid the First World War. I couldn’t escape being mixed up in the second." He thrust his head forward, his voice hissing with anger. "I nearly got killed because of your stupid quarrels.  Believe me; I am not kindly disposed towards you." He paused, his voice moderating. "The only good thing I got out of it was a handful of new identities. There were plenty of soldiers around to take the papers from. One of them was Alfred Bodley, you can call me that."

Ramsey shook his head. “What about their relatives?” he asked. “How did you get round that? As soon as they saw you, you’d be found out.”

Bodley gave a half smile. “The men I chose had no living relatives. I had plenty of time to find out their life history.”

“You chose them. You mean you killed them?” whispered Ramsey.

Bodley nodded. “If they weren’t dead already. I’ve had plenty of time to find out how the human body works. I can control any part I want now.”

Drake shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus, why kill them, you didn’t have to do that. Why didn't you go to our government? You are proof that life exists outside our planet. You'd be the most famous person on Earth."

Bodley slowly shook his head. "You fool. Do you think your government would allow knowledge of my existence to be known? I can tell you what would happen. At first, I'd be confined and interrogated, no doubt followed by a spell on the dissection table. No thanks, I prefer to do things my way. I need time to repair my ship; you two will make sure I'm not disturbed."

"How the hell are we supposed to do that," exploded Drake. "We're not the only ones on your case, there’s a whole squad looking for you. Plenty of other policemen know the area where you live; it won’t take them long to single out this block of flats. We won’t be able to stop that."

Drake's voice faltered to a strangled croak. He clutched his stomach and pitched forward off the settee onto his knees. His whole body convulsed, as he was violently sick onto the floor. His head hung down as his body was wracked with spasms. Finally, he looked up, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and cleaned his face with shaking hands. He slowly lifted himself back onto the settee and fell back against the cushions clutching his stomach, to frightened to speak.

"Don't raise your voice to me,” snapped Bodley. “Next time it might be your heart I squeeze not your stomach. To answer your question, I won't be here tomorrow. I have other places to live and other names to use. How you slow down the investigation is up to you. Just remember, I can reach out for you no matter where you are." He paused, tapping the pile of papers on the table. He looked directly at Drake. "You have a wife and two daughters; don't do anything that would jeopardise their safety."

Drake gasped and sat up, wincing at the pain in his stomach. The thought of his family at being attacked by Bodley temporally overriding his fear. "You bastard, if you touch my family I'll… .."

"You'll do nothing," interrupted Bodley. "Just remember, their good health is dependent on your good behaviour." He turned to Ramsey. “You have two parents still living, just make sure they stay that way.”

"Bloody hell," whispered Ramsey, "We can't just do nothing; we'd be taken off the case. And what happens if one of the other detectives comes up with something?"

"They won’t," replied Bodley, "as far as the police are concerned I'll have vanished from the face of the Earth. You can raid this flat, that should keep the police busy for a while. It won’t matter to me; they'll find nothing to help them."

Drake shook his head. "I don't know if we could keep up a deception like this.  There're going to be questions asked which we won’t be able to answer. We're bound to come under suspicion."

Bodley stared at him. "You'll have to get round that, I'm sure you'll think of something if you put your mind to it." He walked to the door and pulled it open. He stood with his hand on the handle, looking at the two detectives. "That’s enough talk, leave now."

The power of the man radiated at them like an electric furnace. It completely subdued the two detectives, removing any thought of resistance. They rose slowly to their feet.  Under Bodley’s watchful gaze, they collected their belongings from the table and made for the door. As Ramsey reached the door, a jolt of agony stopped him in his tracks. It felt like a red-hot wire being drawn through his thigh. He collapsed against the wall, his breath rasping in his throat. Next to him, Drake rolled on the floor, clutching his leg. Abruptly the pain left him, leaving aftershocks trembling in his thigh muscles. He looked up at Bodley with pain-reddened eyes.

"That's just a sample of what will happen if you disobey me. Remember what I said, you have other nerves in your body I can work on. I'll be watching you. Now get out."

Chapter 13 New Chapter

                                                                     CHAPTER 13

The detectives left the flat and walked with unsteady legs down the stairs, hanging on to the handrail for support. They reached the lower hall and staggered out of the block. Drake's car was only a short walk away. The thump as they slammed the doors shut gave them the illusion of a refuge as they collapsed into the seats and looked at each other.

"Jesus Christ, what have we got mixed up with,” gasped Ramsey. He massaged his thighs, wincing with pain. “My fucking legs,” he hissed.

Drake shook his head as he pressed his fingers into his own legs, kneading away the cramps that rippled up and down his thighs. The walk to the car had re-awakened the muscle cramps.

“I can’t believe what’s just happened,” continued Ramsey. “A fucking alien and we walk right in on him.” He stared at Drake. “Do you believe what he said; do you really think Bodley isn’t human?”

Drake stared back at him. “Could anyone from Earth do what he did to us? The pain in my leg and guts is all the proof I need. I think we have to believe him.”

Ramsey rubbed his eyes. “I still can’t believe it, he looked so ordinary.” He paused.

“What the hell are we going to do?"

Drake put the key in the ignition with a shaking hand. His calm, confident manner had vanished. He was a frightened man. "Just what he told us to do. We'll tell Painter about the flat and let the heavy mob raid it. After that, we'll just coast. We'll have to make a pretence of the investigation but we'll get nowhere. You saw what he can do; we can't protect ourselves against him. I'm not risking my family just to catch this bastard. It’s not worth the risk."

“I wonder how far he can reach,” said Ramsey.

“What do you mean,” asked Drake, not really taking in what Ramsey was saying.

“Well, we were pretty close to him, I’m wondering how far his power can reach.”

 Drake shook his head. “We don’t know anything about him. For all we know, he could knock us down while we’re sitting here. We can’t take the chance.”

“Think of the damage he could do to other people,” said Ramsey, "we can't just let him go,"

Drake’s head snapped round to Ramsey, his eyes staring. "Can't we by Christ. Just what do you suggest? Supposing we tell what we know and he finds out. We could end up dead or like those poor bastards in the underpass. Do you want to risk that? You heard what he said. He won’t be in the flat tomorrow; he's probably leaving already. We won’t have a clue where he is but he'll know where we are. He went through our wallets; he knows where we live for Christ's sake. This is not like anything we've come across before. I'm out of my depth and I know it. I suggest you think very carefully before you do anything. We’re going to have to work together on this because whatever one of us does will affect the other."

Ramsey leant his head on the headrest. "Jesus, what a mess," he murmured. Drake’s loss of confidence was frightening him. "You're certain we can't tell what we know, maybe to just a few top rankers?"

Drake shook his head, a short decisive movement. "For a start, would they believe us? What do we say; a fucking alien from outer space took over our bodies?” He snorted. “They'd doubt our sanity. We couldn't keep a thing like that quiet; it’d be all round the station in hours. No, we say as little as possible."

 Are we going to tell Painter we visited the flat?"

Drake shook his head. "No, we'll tell him which block we saw Bodley go into. They can put a surveillance team on it and sort it out from there. Once they've sorted out who lives where, they can do what they bloody well want. Even mount a raid. We stay out of it, right? By the way, don't tell Painter we know Bodley's name."

Ramsey slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. I don't like it, but I don't see what else we can do."

“Neither do I,” replied Drake quietly. He started the car and drove slowly away from the estate, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he attempted to control his shaking hands.

Chapter 14 New Chapter

                                                                CHAPTER 14

After they'd left Bodley, Ramsey and Drake had talked for several hours before reporting back at the station. Between them, they'd decided what to report and what to leave out in order to protect themselves and their families. The next day, the events at the flat were still vivid in their minds but the sharp terror they had felt at the time had dulled. As the afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows of Painter’s office, the normality of the meeting, the every day police routine, had a calming effect. The soft ticking of the clock and the glow of the sunlight on the walls of the office reminded them of a saner world where the only threat to their safety was from ordinary criminals.  It was still taking some strength of will to appear relaxed. They fought to control their twitching muscles by jamming their legs against their chairs and the front of Painter’s desk.

Chief Inspector Painter listened quietly as Drake and Ramsey made their report. When they finished, he relaxed back in his chair, idly fiddling with his glasses on the desk.

"You've positively identified the block the target went in to"

Drake nodded.  "There're six flats in the block,” he said, forcing his voice to remain steady.  “We don't know which one he lives in, but we're certain about the block." Drake nodded at a sheet of paper in front of Painter. "That's a list of the occupants the council housing manager gave us."

Painter put on his glasses and peered at the paper. He ran his finger down the list of names. "I think we can eliminate Mrs Wiles from the ground floor, she's nearly sixty."

The fourth man sitting round the desk stirred. "I don't think we can eliminate anyone at this stage."

Painter looked at Superintendent Lawrence. "You think not Paul? She’s an elderly woman; we’re looking for a man between thirty and forty."

Lawrence shook his head. "We can't afford to take chances, not after what you’ve told me about this bloke. If he has some sort of unknown weapon, I'm not taking my armed response team in until we checked every one of those tenants. I want that block put under twenty four hour surveillance."

Painter nodded. "All right Paul, we'll get on with that right away." He looked at Drake and Ramsey. "Will you two arrange this?"

"Yes sir," replied Drake. "We'll go back to the council housing manager and see if they have an empty flat we can use."

Lawrence frowned. "Do you think that's likely, with the housing shortage, I wouldn't think the council would leave flats empty."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," said Painter. He turned back to Drake. "Go and see the housing department, see what they can do for us."

            It was a relief to get out of Painter’s office. The drive to the council offices gave them time to recover from the strain of controlling their twitching nerves. Several times on the journey, Ramsey’s foot slipped off the pedals, the car bucking as he regained control.  They sat for a while in the council offices car park composing themselves before entering the building. After making enquiries at the front desk, they were directed to a room on the second floor. The council housing manager was a short fat man with wispy grey hair. He clasped his stubby fingers in front of him on the desk and looked expectantly at the two men opposite. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" he said.

Drake cleared his throat. "Mr. Grant, we need to keep under observation one of the blocks of flats on the Garden Estate." He looked down at the list in his hand. "Primrose House. We're hoping you can help us find a position we can use as a base."

Grant's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I suppose this is something to do with the list of tenants you requested over the phone. Has one of our tenants been up to no good Inspector?"

Drake's mouth twitched with a faint smile. He was used to this reaction from members of the public. A chance for some small excitement in their ordinary lives. "Were not at liberty to say sir, let's just say it's part of an ongoing investigation. We'd appreciate your co-operation and your discretion."

Grant nodded. "Of course, of course. You can rely on me, absolute discretion." He pulled a keyboard towards him and tapped out a series of commands, his fingers moving across the keys with surprising speed. He stared at the monitor as a series of images appeared on the screen.  He swung the monitor round on his desk so Drake and Ramsey could see the map of the estate on the screen.

"Here we are, the Garden Estate." He smiled at the detectives. "Things have got a lot easier since we computerised the housing department. Before this, I'd have had to send down for a copy of the map. His finger stabbed at the screen. "That's Primrose House."

Drake and Ramsey peered at the screen.

"Just to double check sir, there's no rear exit to the blocks?" asked Drake.

 Grant shook his head. "The front porch is the only way in, there's no back exit. So if you want to check on the comings and goings at Primrose, I would think Rose Court would do for you, it's nearly opposite." He worked his keyboard again and a list of names appeared on the screen. He looked up at the two detectives. "I'm afraid we have no empty flats in Rose."

"Have you any empty flats on the estate?" asked Ramsey. "Anything that had a view of Primrose house would do."

Grant consulted his screen again. "No, I'm sorry, no vacancies at all." He looked at the glum faces staring at him. "However, all is not lost. You can still use Rose Court if you don’t mind a little discomfort. On top of each block is a small structure housing the water tanks and other items. There'd be room for you in there."

"What sort of access is there," asked Drake. "I hope its not a trapdoor in the ceiling, we'd need to take some equipment with us."

Grant shook his head. "No, there's a door on the top landing giving access to a flight of steps. The door is normally kept locked; the tenants have no access. I can arrange for you to have a key. You can have a look and see if the site is suitable."

Drake nodded with satisfaction. "One more thing Mr. Grant. That list of tenants in Primrose house, is it up to date?"

"I'll double check," replied Grant. He tapped on his keyboard again. "Yes the list I gave you is up to date. There've been no moves for a number of years. Anything else I can do for you?" he enquired.

Drake and Ramsey rose from their chairs.

"No, I think that's all for now," replied Drake. "You've been very helpful."

Grant accompanied them out of his office. "We might as we'll get that key now. If you find the site not suitable, I'd appreciate it back." He smiled. "Wouldn't do for it to fall into the wrong hands." 

Drake and Ramsey stared through the ventilation grill at the distant view of Primrose House. They'd hoped to escape surveillance duty, but Painter had insisted. Evening was approaching, long shadows stretched across the grass between the buildings. They were in a concrete room about twelve feet square. The roof was just high enough for them to stand upright. Behind them, water tanks gurgled at irregular intervals. Cobwebs hung from every corner and a layer of dust coated every surface. The grill was set into the walls just below the ceiling and extended all the way round the structure. Between the two men, a video camera stood on a tripod, its long telephoto lens peering through a gap in the grill. A tape recorder rested on the ledge next to the grill. Their isolation had given them plenty of time to discuss what had happened to them. They had talked for hours until they realised they were going over the same ground without getting anywhere. They still found it hard to believe Bodley’s claim he was an alien, but the evidence was frighteningly convincing. Their conversation would dry up, leaving both men immersed in his own thoughts, only to start up again when the silence became oppressive.

“We've been here for days,” complained Ramsey He played with the binoculars hanging round his neck. "I reckon we've taken photos of everyone visiting Primrose house. I wonder how long it will be before it's obvious that number three is empty."

Drake shuffled his feet in the dust. "We'll go through the motions until it does. Another twenty four hours should do it." He looked at his watch. "Our relief should be here soon. Keep it routine; don't volunteer anything. We'll let others draw their conclusions."

Ramsey sighed. "Yeah." He rubbed his eyes and turned to Drake. "You know, if we can keep this up for long enough, Bodley might be able to fix his ship and leave".

"I don't care what he does," replied Drake. "I just want to stay away from him. That little bastard frightened the life out of me, I don't mind admitting it."

"Bloody right," agreed Ramsey. "When I got home that night, I couldn't stop shaking. The clincher was what he did to us as we were leaving his flat. That really shook me up. What do you reckon it was?"

Drake thought for a moment. "I think he did something to the sciatic nerve in our legs. I had the same pain years ago when I had an injury playing football. It was nothing like that though."

"Yeah, the little bastard knows how to get your co-operation," said Ramsey reflectively. “I wonder if there’re any more like him out there?”

Drake’s head swung round. “What do you mean?”

Ramsey gathered his thoughts. “Well, there’s been reports of UFO’s for years. Up to now, the people who claimed to have seen them have been dismissed as cranks or mistaking Venus or weather balloons for something else. I’m not so sure now. If we believe Bodley is an alien, what are the chances he’s the only one?”

“Christ, what a thought,” whispered Drake.

The clatter of feet on the concrete steps stilled their conversation. Their relief eased their way into the room, trying to keep away from the dusty walls. Ramsey slipped the strap of the binoculars over his head and passed it to one of the men.

"Anything?" he asked.

Ramsey shook his head. "Nothing spectacular, just routine. I think we've got shots of most of the residents. They seem an ordinary bunch."

Drake replaced the video cassette in the camera, dropping the exposed cassette into his pocket. He replaced the tape cassette and looked up. "All yours”, he said.

The two detectives nodded glumly and took their positions staring out of the grill as

Drake and Ramsey made for the door, glad to be out of the claustrophobic confines of the room. They shut the landing door behind them and made their way down the stairs. Back at Drake's car, they shed their overalls and dumped them in the boot. They climbed wearily into the car. They'd been standing for hours, the room had nowhere to sit down, it was a relief to rest their aching legs. The fact they knew the whole operation was a farce made it harder to take.

"Right," said Drake with a sigh. He nodded at the video and tape cassettes Ramsey held on his lap. "Let's get this lot back to the station and write up our notes from the tape." He stretched awkwardly in the confines of the car. "I'll be glad when today's over."

            Painter laid out the files of tape transcripts on his desk. A collection of still pictures taken from the surveillance video was pinned to five of the files. Painter held up the sixth file. Apart from a name and address, the file was virtually blank.

“This man at number three, Alfred Bodley. He’s supposed to have a wife and two children. You’ve definitely seen no sign of them entering the flats?”

Ramsey shook his head. “Not him or his family. The council gave us the names of the tenants and we’ve put faces to all the names except him. From enquiries we’ve made, we know quite a bit about them. Place of work, bank accounts, the lot. We can’t find anything about Bodley. He doesn’t have a bank account and we can’t find out where he works. Obviously, he wouldn’t have got the flat as a single man. Either his family have left him or he never had one and somehow conned the council to get the flat.”

“The only other single resident is Mrs Wiles on the ground floor,” said Drake. “When she got the flat, she was married with a couple of kids. She’s a widow now; both her children are married and moved away.”

“It looks like Bodley is our man then”, mused Painter. “How long has it been since the flats have been under surveillance?”

“Six days now sir,” replied Drake.

“And there’s been no sign of him in all that time?”

“None sir,” said Drake.

“Could he have spotted the surveillance, do you think?” asked Painter.

“I don’t see how,” replied Drake. He looked to Ramsey for support.

“We wore overalls like the council workmen,” added Ramsey. Anyone seeing us would think we were council maintenance.”

Painter frowned. “He’s either not leaving his flat or he could be using one of the others, one of the other families could be hiding him. Just because you haven’t seen him, doesn’t mean he isn’t there.” He tapped the files in front of him. “I think we’ll have to raid all the flats at the same time.” He slid his glasses into a case and put them in his pocket. “I’ll have to see the chief constable before I can authorise an operation of this size. I’ll keep you informed.”

He gathered up the files and left the room. Ramsey looked at Drake and let out a long breath.

“Well, we’ve got away with it so far,” he said quietly.

Chapter 15 New Chapter

CHAPTER 15

            Chief Constable Keith Birdsell clasped his hands together on his desk and looked up at the three men facing him.

“There’s no way I can authorise and armed raid on all of these dwellings,” he said. He tapped the pile of folders on his desk. “The man living in number three should be our prime target, the fact you’ve seen no sign of him increases the likelihood that he’s our man. If he has disappeared, a search of his flat may give us some clue to his present whereabouts.”

Painter frowned. “We considered the possibility he may be hiding in one of the other flats sir. We thought if we raided only number three, he’d know we were after him.”

Birdsell shook his head. “That is a possibility, nevertheless, I’m not going to have five families terrorised in their own homes. There is an elderly women living on her own in one of the flats. The shock of a gang of armed police breaking down her door could give her a heart attack. No I’m sorry, it’s just not on.”

“We consider the man we’re after is very dangerous,” said Drake. “The injuries to those three men in the underpass and our two patrolmen … ..”

The upraised hand of Birdsell stopped him. “I’m well aware of the injuries Inspector and the fact some sort of new weapon might be involved, however, I’ve made up my mind. I suggest you use the armed response unit on number three. While that is going on, plain-clothes officers and the uniformed branch can search the other flats. I also suggest you have some women officers with you as well; it’ll seem less threatening that way. We’ll have no trouble issuing search warrants for all the flats, the government are very concerned about what this man is using but I’d recommend you ask the tenants for permission to search first, try to gain their co-operation. The warrants can be used if they refuse to co-operate. Emphasise we’re looking for a dangerous man who may have gained entry to their flats. I want the tenants to see this raid as a measure to protect them, not to treat them as criminals.” He paused, looking over his glasses. “I want this to go like clockwork. Bodley has aroused considerable interest from various government departments. We have to find him and whatever weapon he is using to disable. The flat must be pulled apart if necessary, remove and search everything, back to the plaster walls if need be.”

Ramsey held back a grimace. “The council won’t like that much sir.”

Birdsell waved his hand in dismissal. “The council will have to lump it. You’ve got your orders, get on with it.”

The briefing room was packed to capacity. Painter stood with arms folded, waiting for the scuffle of feet and murmured conversation to cease.

“Right, pay attention. Tomorrow morning we’re mounting a raid on Primrose House on the Garden estate. The purpose is to arrest a man called Alfred Bodley and collect any weapons he may have. Just to remind you, he’s the man who injured the three men in the underpass and attacked two patrolmen. Superintendent Lawrence is the operation support commander of the armed response unit; he’ll be leading the operation. I’ll let him explain what is going to happen.”

Lawrence stood up from the desk he’d been leaning against. “The raid will take place at five a.m. My men will enter flat number three. We’ll also leave two armed men on each landing. If we find our man, the noise is bound to disturb the rest of the block. Your job then will be to reassure the tenants while we’re detaining him. If the flat is empty, and we’ll let you know that within a minute of entry, I’ll deploy my team on the landings in case of trouble. I want you to knock up all the tenants and ask if you can search their flats. We have search warrants in case any of them prove troublesome. Flat number two, on the ground floor has an elderly woman living on her own. I want a woman PC to make the initial contact. She should have a male officer as backup. Two officers should search each flat, one to search, the other to remain in the hall in view of the armed officers. The man we’re looking for is to be considered armed and dangerous, he may be hiding in one of the other flats, so be alert. If you get into difficulties, sing out. ” He nodded to Ramsey who picked up a stack of papers and started handing them out. “ These will tell you which group you’ll belong to and which flat you are to visit. We’ll assemble in the police station car park at four thirty. Any questions?”

A forest of hands shot up. Lawrence pointed to a detective standing in the front of the group.

“If this man is so dangerous, why isn’t the armed response unit searching all the flats? Why only one flat?”

 “Chief Constable’s orders,” replied Lawrence. “It was considered a bad idea to terrorise all the tenants with an armed raid. Flat three is our target. We have surveillance information he’s not there, but he might be lying low, so we’re taking no chances. All the flats will be searched. You’ll see from the papers handed to you that the emphasis must be to reassure the tenants, that we’re searching the flats for their protection.”

Another hand was raised. “What if we find evidence of stolen property in the flats?”

Lawrence shook his head. “If it’s petty stuff, ignore it. It’s a man we’re after. There’s no need to look into cupboards that would be too small for him to hide in.”

As Lawrence replied to the questions being thrown at him, Ramsey walked back to the front of the room and stood next to Drake. He tapped the paper he was holding.

“Looks like we’ll be on number five on the top floor.”

Drake nodded and lent closer to Ramsey. “I’m just glad we’re not going into number three, I don’t think I could stand seeing that place again.”

“We might have to”, replied Ramsey. “Once the A.R.U’s have cleared the place, forensics are going to be over that flat like a rash. We’re going to have to find some way to get in there before they finish.”

Drake looked up, startled. “Why?”

“Our fingerprints could be in that flat. Do you remember what you touched while you there?

“Jesus, I hadn’t thought of that,” whispered Drake.

“I only thought of it just now,” replied Ramsey. “If we can get in for just a minute, it will explain any prints they do find.”

Drake rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right, though the forensic people won’t want us near the place until they finish. They’re going to be very suspicious of us if we try to walk in; it’s against all operational procedure. Contamination of the scene of crime and all that.”

“We’re still going to have to do it,” whispered Ramsey. “It’s not good just going in either, we’ve got to be seen as well. We’ll have to risk the bollicking that’s bound to follow. Anyway, once the A.R.U’s have finished trampling all over the flat, the place will be compromised. Hopefully, forensics might be a bit more relaxed about contamination. ”

Drake nudged Ramsey into silence as Painter joined them.

“Something troubling you two?” he asked. “You look worried.”

Drake cleared his throat and held up the operation layout. “No trouble. Duncan and I were just going over the operation.”

“You’re happy with it, no worries then?” said Painter.

Drake shook his head. “No, no worries.”

Painter smiled. “Good, I’ll see you at Primrose house, after the fuss has died down.”

As he left the room, Ramsey raised his eyebrows at Drake. “We’re going to have to be more careful, he might have overheard us.”

Drake nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked around the room. Lawrence had finished answering questions and the room was slowly emptying. “Come on, let’s go, we’ve an early start tomorrow.” 

Chapter 16 New Chapter

CHAPTER 16

Ramsey extinguished his headlights and drove slowly behind the two Armed Response Vehicles as they turned into the Garden estate. Sitting in the seat next to him, Drake was an indistinct shadow in the predawn light. A convoy of cars followed Ramsey as he pulled up facing the front porch of Primrose house. The doors of the A.R.V’s opened and black clad men poured from the vehicles. They assembled in front of the porch and signalled to the men in the cars.

Drake looked over his shoulder at the two detectives sitting in the back seats. “That’s us,” he said.

Ramsey and Drake allowed the two other detectives to walk slightly ahead of them as they approached the porch.

“I hope to Christ he’s not still in there,” whispered Drake.

Ramsey nodded. “He said he’d be gone; let’s hope he didn’t change his mind.”

Inside the block, the armed response unit had spread out on all the landings, with a larger group outside flat number three. One of the men carried what looked like a large piece of drainpipe. Ramsey recognised this as the tool that they would use to smash open the door. Ramsey and Drake continued up the stairs to the top floor. They stood outside the door of number five and waited. There was almost complete silence in the block, all they could hear was the slight scuff of shoes on the concrete steps as the officers moved to their positions. Ramsey glanced behind him. Two armed officers stood with backs to the wall cradling their Heckler and Koch MP5 machine guns. The officer’s guns provided scant comfort to Ramsey. He knew they would never get a chance to use their weapons if they came face to face with Bodley. A bang echoed up the stairwell as the door of number three was broken open. Ramsey could hear the muffled shouts of the armed officers as they ran through the flat. A shout echoed through the block.

“Flat’s empty, go.”

Drake nodded at Ramsey who turned and rang the bell. After a short wait, a faint voice came from the other side of the door.

“Who’s there?”

“Police,” said Ramsey. “Open the door please.”

The door opened a fraction. A heavy chain was visible in the gap. Ramsey held out his warrant card.

“I’m DS Ramsey, this is DI Drake. Would you open the door sir?”

The door swung shut. It opened a second later after a rattle of chains. A man stood in the doorway dressed in striped pyjamas. His eyes were half closed with sleep, his hair standing up in tufts. He looked at the two detectives.

“What’s up, what do you want.” He leaned forwards between the two detectives to see into the hall. His eyes widened at the sight of the two armed officers standing with their backs to the wall. The door on the opposite side of the landing was open, where a woman in a bright blue dressing gown was talking to two more detectives. The man looked back at Ramsey and Drake, his face frowning with confusion. “What’s going on, what are you people doing.”

Drake attempted to calm him. He glanced down at the paper in his hand to remind himself of the man’s name. “Mr. Askew, we have reason to believe a wanted man is living in number three. The flat is empty; we have to make sure he’s not broken into any of the other flats in this block.”

Askew’s face paled, his unshaven chin standing out in contrast. “What, you think he might be in here?”

“That is a possibility, yes sir. We’d like to have a quick look round just to make sure you’re safe.”

A voice called from the bedroom of the flat. “What’s happening Ted?”

Askew looked over his shoulder. “It’s the police; they think someone might have broken into our flat. They want to have a look round.”

A women’s head appeared round the bedroom doorway. “Well, what are you standing there for; get ‘em in.”

Askew backed into the hall and Drake and Ramsey followed him. Drake stood in the entrance and nodded to Ramsey who followed Askew down the hall. In the first bedroom, a woman stood clutching her dressing gown tightly round her chest. Ramsey nodded to her and searched the room. The second bedroom contained two sleeping children. Ramsey quickly looked round the lounge, bathroom and kitchen and rejoined Drake in the hall.

“All clear,” he said. He turned to Askew. “You’re quite safe sir, there’s no-one here. I suggest you keep your door locked for the rest of the night, there’s going to be a bit of noise coming from the flat below. Our men will be searching the place, so there’s bound to be a bit of disturbance.”

Askew stared at him, relief showing in his face. “You’re sure we’re all right, you’re really sure?”

Ramsey nodded. “Absolutely sir, sorry to have disturbed you.”

“That’s all right,” replied Askew. “The man downstairs, is he dangerous?” He nodded at the armed officers.

“We’re just taking precautions,” said Drake. “Nothing for you to worry about. Good night sir.”

Askew started to close the door then opened it again.

“You said the flat was empty, he won’t be coming back will he?”

Drake gave a half smile. “I wouldn’t think so sir, not with all us lot around. After we’ve finished, the flat will be locked up. He wouldn’t be able to get back in, even if he wanted to.”

Askew nodded. “Right, right. Good night then.”

The door closed and Drake nodded at the stairs. “Now that pantomime is over, let’s see what’s happening in number three.”

            The door to number three was open. An armed officer stood guarding the entrance.

“Forensic here yet?” asked Drake.

The officer nodded. “Got here a minute ago. Once we’ve checked all the other flats, we’ll leave it to you lads.”

Drake nodded and stepped past him into the hall. Ramsey followed. They paused at the door of the lounge and seeing no-one, entered the room. A scene of crime officer dressed in white coveralls came out of a bedroom. His eyes frowned above his mask as he saw the two men. Drake went smoothly into his rehearsed speech. “We’re looking for Inspector Painter, is he here?”

“No, he’s not,” replied the Soco, neither should you be.”

Drake and Ramsey backed out of the room muttering apologies.

“Hold it,” said the Soco. “Have you touched anything?”

Ramsey spread his hands. “I don’t think so.” He turned to Drake. “Sir?”

“I’m pretty certain we haven’t,” said Drake.

“I’d better have your names, just in case,” said the Soco. He pulled a notebook from his pocket and copied the detective’s names from their warrant cards. He shut the book with a flourish and looked up.

“You two should have known better, I’m afraid this will have to go into my report.”

Drake raised his hands in a placatory gesture. “Yeah, sorry. With all the confusion, we just didn’t think. We’ll wait in the car until you’re finished.”

            Ramsey and Drake stood in front of Painter’s desk with their heads lowered. Behind their attitudes of apparent contrition, they were inwardly relieved. Their entry into the flat to account for their fingerprints being found had worked.

“What were you thinking of,” said Painter angrily. “The Soco people were furious when they found you two in there. You know you left your prints on the table, don’t you.”

“I’m sorry sir,” said Drake. “We thought after the A.R.U’s had been all through the place, it wouldn’t be so important to stay out.” He spread his hands. “I wasn’t aware we’d been anywhere near the table.” He added.

Painter dropped his hands onto his desk. “Oh well, it’s done now. We’ve eliminated your prints. The A.R.U’s wear gloves so they didn’t leave any.” He glanced at the report on the desk in front of him. “You may be interested to know that your prints were the only one’s found in the flat. Either Bodley was the most fastidious cleaner I’ve come across, or he wore gloves all the time.”

“What none at all?” asked Ramsey, relieved the discussion was moving away from their behaviour. “According to the council records, he’d been a tenant in that flat for over nine years.”

Painter raised his eyes to heaven. “And also according to the council records, he had a wife and two children. I think we can safely ignore council records.”

“Was there any evidence where he might be now?” asked Drake.

Painter shook his head. “Nothing. No documents or personal papers. There was a weird collection of food in the kitchen, but apart from telling us he had some strange tastes, it gets us nowhere.”

“I suppose we could list the food and target the shops that sell that sort of food,” said Ramsey.

Drake looked at him sharply. “Not very practical. You can buy all sorts of food from all sorts of shops; we’d have to cover every shop in town.”

Ramsey took the hint. He was trying too hard. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

Painter tapped his desk. “You two are still on the case. At the moment, we seem to be at a blank wall. It’ll be up to you to find evidence to get us through that wall. We have one hope. I’ve been talking to our technical department. They’ve given Bodley’s picture to the CCTV people so they can install it on their face recognition software. If Bodley shows his face anywhere in town again, we’ll be alerted.” He slid the file across the desk to Drake. “This is the forensic report, read it carefully; you might find some information that will open a new line of enquiry.” He took off his glasses and dropped them onto the desk. “All right you can go now. Don’t ever let me down like this again. You’re both senior officers, you should know police procedure by now.”

Drake and Ramsey nodded and left the room. They walked down the stairs to their office in silence. As they closed the door behind them, Drake turned on Ramsey.

“Remember what Bodley said Duncan, don’t be too clever. That suggestion about the food was not necessary.”

“Sorry Phil, I wasn’t thinking. We can’t play too dumb though, Painter is bound to notice if we don’t make any progress at all.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s going to be like walking a tightrope, we’ve got to be seen to be working, but we daren’t get too close to Bodley, I’m still thinking of what he said about my family.”

“I’ve got family too,” retorted Ramsey.

Drake rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I know, I’m just a bit wound up.” He sat down at his desk and opened the forensic report. “Come on; let’s see what we can make of this. We’ve got to keep on top of this case so we can divert any enquires that look like they going to get results.”

Ramsey accepted this as a sort of apology and sat down next to Drake.

Chapter 17 New Chapter

CHAPTER 17

            The next night Ramsey was free for the whole evening. He picked up Walsh from her flat and took her out to dinner to the pub they’d visited on their first date. The food and relaxing atmosphere made a welcome change from their busy lives and had become a regular fixture on their weekly outings. It was a relief to talk about something other than police work and put Bodley out of his mind, even for only an evening. After dinner, he casually suggested they go back to his flat for a last drink before he took her home.

“Sounds good,” replied Walsh. “I’ve often wondered what a policeman’s home looks like.”

“You know, the usual,” replied Ramsey straight faced. “Handcuffs on the bed and my collection of whips in the airing cupboard.”

Walsh smiled. “I like the idea of handcuffs on the bed, what do you use them for?”

Ramsey nuzzled her ear as he helped her on with her coat. “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you.”

Walsh giggled and gently nudged him in the ribs.

            Ramsey and Walsh stood in his kitchen drinking coffee. They both leaned on the worktop facing each other. As they talked, they leaned closer and closer to each other. When they kissed, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. After a second, Walsh leaned back.

“What are we standing up here for; I saw a bed in the other room when you showed me round.”

Ramsey nodded and arm in arm; they left the kitchen. The coffee slowly grew cold in the cups. An hour later, Ramsey lay on his back amid the crumpled duvet. Debbie Walsh lay across his legs, idly running her fingers along his stomach muscles. She sat up, squatting over his legs. She lent forward resting both her hands on his chest.

“I’m jealous,” she said.

Ramsey opened his eyes a fraction. “Why, what of?” Walsh was an indistinct shape above him, the bedside light casting shadows across the curves of her body.

Walsh tapped his stomach. “You, you haven’t an ounce of fat on you, not like me.”

Ramsey reached out and stroked her bottom. “Your fat is in all the right places.” He gently slapped a cheek, sending ripples billowing under her skin. Walsh wriggled her bottom under his hand. Ramsey dug his fingers into her flesh.

“Grrrr!” he growled, “Nice piece of ass.”

Walsh smiled, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Glad you approve,” she said.

“You should know by now I do,” he replied.

She bent down and kissed his chest. “I’ll be honest with you; I was quite surprised when you asked me out. Surprised but well pleased.”

Ramsey raised an eyebrow. “Surprised? I thought you were giving off all the right signals. That’s why I took the chance to ask you.”

“The right signals? I didn’t realise, I haven’t had many boy friends, I’m out of practice. I’ve had colleagues, but not lovers. The men I meet seem to back off when they find out I’ve got a doctorate.” She frowned. “I once overheard someone say I was too earnest. That was quite a put down. I went off men for a year after that. Another thing, the girls they seem to go for always remind me of stick insects. I don’t quite fit that bill.”

Ramsey gently ran his hands up and down her back. “Forget it, they don’t know what they’re missing,” he replied softly.

Walsh smiled, soothed by his touch. “We’re like Jack Sprat and his wife, one lean, the other fat.”

“You’re not fat,” replied Ramsey, “just well rounded.” He lifted his head and kissed her on the neck. “Anyway, Jack Sprat’s wife wasn’t fat, she only ate fat, you don’t know your nursery rhymes.” He lay back on the bed, staring up at her.

Walsh ran her finger down his chest. “Anyway, you still haven’t got any fat on you.”

“That’s from good clean living,” replied Ramsey.

“Good clean living,” echoed Walsh, “After what you’ve just done to me.”

Ramsey massaged her shoulders. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you? You made enough noise.”

Walsh lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “I did enjoy it; it’s the first time I’ve been to bed with a stick of chalk. I might even try it again.”

Ramsey relaxed back onto the pillow. “Good,” he murmured.

Walsh tapped him on the forehead. “Hey, don’t go to sleep on me.”

“Not asleep,” mumbled Ramsey. “Just relaxing.”

“You lot weren’t relaxing last night, were you involved in the rumpus on the Garden estate?”

Ramsey nodded.

“It was splashed all over the weekly paper. They must have been pleased; they don’t usually have a story as big as that the day before publication.”

“We didn’t plan it for the local rag,” replied Ramsey with a grin.

He closed his eyes as Walsh ran her hand up and down his stomach. He fell into a light sleep, soothed by Walsh’s touch. As his breathing slowed, Walsh got off the bed and walked over to a chair where her clothes lay draped over the seat. She found her handbag and removed her makeup pouch from its depths. She climbed gently back onto the bed, being careful not to disturb Ramsey’s sleep. After a while, he slowly came awake, aware of a gentle pressure on his chest and stomach. It felt as if Walsh was running her fingernails over his skin. He opened his eyes. Walsh was sitting astride him, her face screwed up in concentration.

“What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

Walsh looked up. “Joining the dots.” She smiled broadly. “Have a look, see what you think.”

She climbed off his legs to allow him to get off the bed. Ramsey walked over to a mirror and looked at his reflection. A large heart pierced by an arrow adorned his chest. Below it, both their names were drawn in uneven letters. He looked back at Walsh, who was sitting on the bed grinning.

“I joined up your freckles,” she said. You were asleep; a girls got to have something to do to pass the time.”

Ramsey rubbed his chest. “You saucy sod, does this stuff come off?”

Walsh shook her head. “I wouldn’t think so, not for ages.” She held up a small pencil. “Waterproof eye brow pencil.”

Ramsey looked in the mirror again in mock horror. “What are they going to think at my Karate class, I can’t go looking like this.”

Walsh smiled. “I’ve put my brand on you. Any other girls seeing that will know you’re taken.”

She fell back onto the bed with a shriek as Ramsey dived for her. He held her down gripping her wrists and kissed her.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to punish you for that,” he said smiling.

Walsh lifted her head and kissed him. “With the handcuffs?” she asked.

Ramsey smiled, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ll use them tonight

“I deserve it,” she whispered. “I’ve been a very naughty girl.”

Ramsey kissed her again. He felt her legs rise up and cross over his thighs.

            Walsh snuggled down in the bed listening to the chink of china from the kitchen as Ramsey washed out the coffee cups and brewed a fresh batch. As he was about to pour the coffee, the doorbell rang. He frowned, looking up at the kitchen clock. Who the hell would be calling at this time of night? He went back into the bedroom and put on a dressing gown. Walsh looked up from under the duvet.

“What’s up?”

“Someone at the door,” replied Ramsey. “I’ll get rid of them as quick as I can.”

Walsh snuggled deeper into the duvet. “Don’t answer it, come back to bed.”

Ramsey shook his head. “It may be police business.” He walked to the door. “I won’t be long.”

As he descended the stairs to the street door, he tried to think who would be calling on him at this time of night. He opened the door, half expecting to see Drake standing there. Instead, a short fat faced man with spiky black hair stood on his doorstep.

“I need to talk to you,” said the man.

Ramsey frowned. He’d never seen the man before in his life.

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t think I know you. Are you sure you’ve got the right house?”

The man’s features suddenly collapsed like deflating balloon, the skin moulding tight against the skull. For a second a pair of bright green eyes stared at Ramsey from under heavy eyebrows. Ramsey stepped back in alarm as the man’s face expanded  back to flaccid features he’d first seen.

“Bodley,” he gasped.

Chapter 18 New Chapter

CHAPTER 18

Ramsey collected his change from the barmaid and picked up the two pint glasses. He carried them over to a corner table where Drake sat waiting for him away from the crowd of midday drinkers. He put the glasses down and sat opposite Drake. He took a long pull on his pint.

“All right,” said Drake. “What’s this all about? You’ve been very quiet all morning and now this meeting away from the station. What’s on your mind?”

Ramsey gestured at the pint in front of Drake. “You better have a drink of that; you’re going to need it.”

Drake raised his eyebrows and did as he was told. When he’d put his glass down, Ramsey lent forwards over the table.

“I had a visitor last night.” He paused for emphasis. “It was Bodley.”

“What,” whispered Drake.

Ramsey nodded. “Yeah, that’s right, Bodley. You can forget about the face recognition software on the CCTV, the bastard changed his face in front of me.” “What, was he wearing a disguise or something?”

“No, when I say change, I mean change. His whole face sort of melted and reformed. I nearly shit myself.”

“Christ Almighty”.

“I had Debbie Walsh with me, you know the girl from the university. Thank Christ she didn’t see him. As it was I had a hard time explaining why I had to take her home early, we’d planned to spend the night together. When I got back from her flat, Bodley was waiting for me, he’d hid himself when I took Debbie out.”

Drake took a long drink from his glass. “Go on,” he said.

“He followed me into my flat like he owned the place. Once we were inside, he told me we had to meet him. He also reminded me just what he could do to us if we disobeyed him.”

Drake’s paled. “Meet him, when?”

“This afternoon,” said Ramsey bitterly. “I had to agree, just seeing him again frightened the life out of me.” 

“Why?” asked Drake.

“He didn’t say.” Ramsey passed a piece of paper across the table. “This is the address he wants us to go to for the meeting. He said he’ll join us at the house after we arrive. He’ll be watching us to make sure we come alone. We won’t recognise him, he could be standing next to us and we wouldn’t know it.”

Drake slumped back in his chair. “Bloody hell, I thought we’d seen the last of him. Why us? We did what he said.”

Ramsey shook his head helplessly. “Christ knows. I keep thinking what he did to us in the flat.” He looked up. “I don’t mind admitting it, I’m bloody scared.”

“Supposing we just ignore him, don’t go to the meeting. If we go, it’ll mean more complications, we’ll have to fiddle our log books.”

“It wasn’t a request,” said Ramsey. “He told us to be there or else.”

Drake gulped down his drink. He looked up at Ramsey. “What the hell are we going to do?”

“I don’t think we’ve got a choice,” replied Ramsey. “We’ll have to meet the bastard.”

Drake pointed through the car window. “There, that’s the house.”

Ramsey stopped the car and turned off the ignition. He studied the house through the side window. They were in an old part of the town. Houses dating back to the twenties and thirties lined the street, giving the whole area an air of solid respectability.

“What do we do now,” wondered Drake.

“Wait for Bodley to show, I suppose,” replied Ramsey. He looked up and down the street. “He could be any one of those people; God knows what he looks like now.”

They sat and waited for over half an hour before there was a tap on the driver’s window. Ramsey jumped, his head swivelling round. The same fat face he seen the previous night was staring at him through the glass. Bodley’s double chins wobbled as he spoke.

“Come into the house.” Without another word, Bodley turned and walked up the short front path to the front door of the house.

Ramsey and Drake got out of the car and reluctantly followed the fat waddling figure.  Drake stared at Bodley and then at Ramsey.

“I never would have believed it,” he breathed. “He’s changed his appearance completely.”

Ramsey nodded. “It’s bad enough seeing him like this. Seeing him change is worse, believe me.”

            Bodley shut the door and led them to a room at the back of the house. The room was sparsely furnished, a tattered three-piece suite being the only furniture. The bare floorboards creaked under their feet as they walked into the room. Bodley took off his raincoat, throwing it carelessly onto a chair. Ramsey could see it was heavily padded. He peeled off his wig and threw it onto the raincoat. Ramsey realised Bodley had only changed the appearance of his face; his emaciated body had not changed at all. He sat down and indicated to the detectives to sit opposite him. The two detectives froze as Bodley’s features collapsed back into the emaciated, bald headed man they had seen at the flat.

Drake attempted to bluster. “All right, Bodley, we’re here, what do you want.”

Bodley stared at him. “I think an attempt at good manners is called for on your part. After all we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future.”

Drake blanched. “Why,” he stuttered.

“I need you men to do some shopping for me, things I’m finding difficulty finding on my own.”

“What things?” asked Ramsey.

“Things to repair my ship,” said Bodley.

“Why do you need us then, we don’t know what you need,” replied Ramsey.

Bodley gave a half smile. “It’s money I need. A considerable amount of money, you two will provide it for me.”

Ramsey half rose out of his chair. “What, we haven’t got money, where did you get that idea from?” A thought occurred to him. “You said you’ve been here for over a hundred years, surly you’ve had time to earn plenty of money.”

Bodley glared at him. “Do you really think I would work in this backward planet? No, I used other ways of collecting cash.”

In spite of himself, Ramsey was curious. “How?”

“I can force people to give me money, sometimes large amounts of money. Then I make them forget about it. I have quite a number of people who donate to me without realising it.  I also take money from shops and department stores. A few pounds here and there disappear from the tills while I control the assistants. Enough for me to live comfortably, but not enough to cause a major enquiry. My whole purpose is to remain unobtrusive, rich people attract attention. I spread my net wide, Mr. Ramsey, up to now; no-one has made a connection between these small losses.”

“Well, why don’t you do it again,” said Ramsey. “You can get all the money you want.” He suppressed a tinge of conscience at offering advice to this strange being.

”The advances you people have made in computerisation, make that very difficult,” replied Bodley. “If I take the amount of money I need, the loss will be noticed. Even if I took the money, the companies that make the goods I want will not accept cash; they want cheques or a credit transfer. For that, I need the money in a bank. With the new banking laws, I cannot put large amounts of cash into a bank without questions being asked.  I did not foresee this development; otherwise I would have increased my wealth considerably some time ago. I have a number of accounts at many different banks. These were opened many years ago when the rules were not so strict. It’s different now, that’s why I need you to help me.”

Ramsey waved his hands. “What about this house, you could use it as security to raise the money or sell it for cash.”

Bodley shook his head. “I have no intention of drawing attention to myself by doing that. Even though I have many houses. I need them so I can’t be tied down to one location. I bought them new, nearly seventy years ago for cash, all under different names. Things were a lot more relaxed then. If I tried to sell one of my houses, or used one as security for a loan, anyone I approached would want a great deal of information about me. I don’t want the complication of that.”

 “Where are we supposed to get the money you need,” said Drake. “We’re not rich men.”

“You have a substantial house, Mr. Drake. And you, Mr. Ramsey have a flat. You can raise a second mortgage on these properties.”

“I can’t do that,” spluttered Drake. “My wife would have to know about it and my superiors would be sure to find out. How the hell do I explain it?”

“That’s up to you,” said Bodley shortly.

“I rent my flat,” put in Ramsey. “There’s no way I can raise a second mortgage on that.”

“Then it’s all down to Drake,” said Bodley.

Drake stood up shaking his head. “You’ve gone too far Bodley. We did what you told us to do. We held back evidence to make sure you weren’t caught. We’re risking our jobs, our involvement with you ends now.”

He gestured to Ramsey to follow him and they walked out of the room. Bodley sat quietly, making no move to stop them. Once they were outside the house, they got into their car and drove away.

“Christ, I see what you mean about him changing his face, he’d expanded it like a bloody puffer fish” said Drake. He glanced at the rear view mirror, relieved to see Bodley had not followed them out of the house. “I think he’s got his limitations though. Did you notice he changed back to his normal face as soon as he was inside the house? I don’t believe he can keep that disguise going for long.”

Ramsey frowned. “Limitations or not, he can still control us. You were taking a hell of a chance. He could have zapped us. I can’t believe he let us go so easily.”

Drake shook his head. “We had to make a stand otherwise we’d never get him off our backs. He must have gone to our addresses to know what sort of houses we live in, I don’t like that at all. No, we had to break away from him.”

“Are we still going to protect him?” queried  Ramsey.

“We have to. We can’t go back now, not after the way we’ve covered up evidence. Even if we tell what we know, there’s no guarantee we’ll be believed. And even if we are, there’s always a chance Bodley won’t be caught, he could come after us for revenge.” Drake shook his head. “We’ll slow down the investigation as best we can and hope the case is shelved, but no more contact with Bodley.”

“Do you think he’ll swallow that?” said Ramsey.

“I bloody hope so. We had to make him see we weren’t going to be his puppets. What can he do, if he does anything to us it’ll only bring him to the attention of the police. That’s the last thing he wants.”

Ramsey sighed.  He looked out of the rear window in the direction of Bodley’s house, now fast disappearing behind them. “Let’s hope he realises that,” he said quietly.

Chapter 19 New Chapter

CHAPTER 19

Two weeks after the meeting with Bodley, Ramsey and Drake started to relax. It appeared Drake’s stand against Bodley had paid off. They walked into the station after a fruitless round of interviews at the small number of banks in the town.  Each manager was shown a picture of Bodley. To their relief, none of the managers recognised Bodley as one of their customers. When a check of the bank records confirmed this, they said their goodbyes and went on to the next bank.

“I suppose we’d better try the post offices next, It’ll be something else to put in our files,” mused Ramsey, as they climbed the stairs to their office.

Drake nodded. “Yeah, with a bit of luck, we’ll get the same results. He probably uses a different face and name at every bank he goes to.” He glanced at Ramsey. “I really don’t want to find any trace of that bastard. I keep remembering what he said would happen if we got too clever.”

“Maybe we should try using a different picture at the post offices,” suggested Ramsey. “Remember, he paid his rent at his local post office, someone just might recognise him.”

Drake thought for a moment and slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so, it’d be too risky. All it would take is some bloody hotshot detective covering the same ground with the proper picture. We can’t keep tabs on all of them, it’d be just our luck for some counter clerk to realise he been shown two different pictures of the same man. We’ll just have to trust to luck no-one we interview recognises Bodley’s face.”

Ramsey nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It’s just I’m on bloody tenterhooks every time I bring that picture out.”

Drake was about to open the door to their office when Painter strode down the corridor towards them.

“Good,” he said. “I was told you’d come back, I’ve been waiting for you. Come with me, there’s some people who want to talk to you.”

Painter turned on his heels and walked towards his office. Ramsey stared at Drake, his eyebrows raised. Drake shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands. The two men followed Painter to his office. Inside, two men lounged in the soft chairs Painter reserved for visitors. Painter sat down behind his desk and waved Ramsey and Drake to sit down. He glanced briefly at the two men now sitting up in their chairs and turned to the two detectives.

“These men are from the security services, I want you to brief them on your progress on the Bodley case. Show them all your files and provide copies of anything they request, all right?”

Ramsey felt his heart sink. How the hell were they going conceal their deliberate foot dragging in their search for Bodley?

Painter studied their faces. “You seem surprised gentlemen.”

“We are,” replied Drake. “I assumed this was a police investigation, I didn’t think national security was involved.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” said Painter primly. He rose from his seat. “Now, take these gentlemen to your office and show them anything they ask for. I want your complete co-operation.”

Drake and Ramsey rose to their feet saying ‘Yessir,” almost with one voice. They walked back to their office in silence and ushered the two men inside.  The men took off their coats and threw them over the back of a chair. They sat down, facing Drake and Ramsey. One of the men lent forward.

“My name’s Pearson, this is Mr. Stebbing. Sorry if we’re treading on your toes, but we have our orders too.”

Drake raised his hands from his desk, a gesture of resignation. “Right, what can we do for you gentlemen?” Nothing that’ll help you catch Bodley I hope.

Pearson sat back in his chair. “We want everything you’ve got so far on the Underpass case. We’d also like any theories you might have. You’re both experienced detectives, you must have some thoughts about the man.”

Drake nodded and reached for his phone. “Lisa, any files you and Steve have on the Bodley case, bring them in to me please.” He listened for a moment and put the phone down. He looked up. “DC Marley will be in shortly. In the meantime we’ll show you what we have in here.”

Ramsey rose from his chair and opened a filing cabinet. Withdrawing a bundle of files, he placed them on the desk. Pearson and Stebbing drew their chairs up to the desk and began leafing through the papers. They’d been reading for about ten minutes when Lisa Marley came into the room with a bundle of papers under her arm.

“Most of these are copies of what you have there,” she said. “There are a few new files; I’ve put them on top.”

Drake nodded. As she was about to leave the room, Drake called to her.

“Any results from the door to door?”

She shook her head. “We’ve questioned every flat on the estate. Even the people in Bodley’s own block knew very little about him. The most common reply was he kept to himself. Some of them hadn’t even said as much as a good morning to him.”

Drake nodded. “OK, thanks Lisa, that’ll be all.”

They sat in silence as Pearson and Stebbing read through the papers. Finally, they looked up.

“You have nearly forty officers looking for this man,” said Pearson. “Not much to show for it is there.”

Drake shrugged. “I admit it’s a pretty thin file. The man’s left absolutely no clues to his life or work; no one seems to have known him.” We’ve been lucky so far.

Pearson steepled his fingers under his chin. He stared at Drake and Ramsey. 

“OK, let’s recap on what we know about Bodley. First of all, three men attack him and somehow, he disables them, seemingly without taking his hands out of his pockets. Then he puts two patrolmen in hospital, again without touching them. You discover where he lives and raid his flat, only to find the man is gone.” He looked across the desk at Drake and Ramsey. “Is that a fair summation of events so far?”

Both detectives nodded. 

“The fact some sort of new weapon or device might be involved aroused our interest,” continued Pearson. “We were hoping by now you’d have caught him so we could interview him ourselves and find out just what he’s using. So far, you don’t seem any nearer to that than you were at the beginning.”

“Not from want of trying,” said Ramsey.

“I’m coming to that,” said Pearson. He tapped the folder on the desk in front of him. “Tell me what you’ve done so far.”

Drake took a deep breath. “Well from our enquiries, we know Bodley moved into his flat about nine years ago, presumably with a wife and two children. There’s been no sign of them, I doubt if they ever existed. We checked the council records for a previous address but the people at that address had never heard of him. We couldn’t find any record of a bank account; he paid his rent by cash at the local post office.”

“As I remember, the details provided by his National Insurance number don’t match, any luck with that?” asked Stebbing.

Drake nodded. “The number obviously doesn’t belong to our man because we found out Alfred Bodley was reported killed in France in August 1944, aged twenty two. Our man must have taken over Bodley’s identity after his death.”

Pearson pulled the picture of Bodley out of the file. He studied it for a long moment. “He doesn’t look old enough in his picture to have been around then.” He threw the picture back on to the desk. “Reportedly killed,” he mused. “Are you sure he isn’t the real Bodley still alive?”

“We’re sure as we can be,” replied Drake. “We couldn’t find any living relatives to confirm his death; there is a grave in France with his name on it though. We got that information from the war graves commission.”

“Let’s assume Bodley is dead then,” said Pearson. “Let’s further assume this man took his identity. I suppose we could blame the confusion after the war that this number was still issued despite Bodley being reported dead.” He tapped a page in the file. “I see you’ve found nothing about what he does for a living, I can’t believe he could live in this country for all these years without coming to the notice of the inland revenue or social security  people.” He looked up. “Any comments on that?”

Painter shrugged. “We’ve made enquires with both those departments, so far they’ve not come back to us with anything.”

OK, what else have you done and what are your next lines of enquiry?”

“We’ve contacted all the banks and building societies in the area. We asked them if they had a customer called Bodley, so far we’ve been unlucky.” 

“We’ll try the post offices next, “said Ramsey. “That was going to be our next step. He paid his rent there; he may have had a savings account with them.”

Pearson nodded slowly, turning the papers in the file.

“What about the flat, did the search turn anything up?”

Drake shook his head. “The flat was clean. It’s as if he never lived there. We didn’t find a single paper or document.”

“What about cups, knives, forks and the like,” asked Stebbing. “No prints on any of those?”

Drake shook his head. “It’s all in the file. The place was as clean as an operating theatre.” Only our prints and they’ve been eliminated.  “He left some food in the fridge, that was the only sign he’d ever been in the place.”

“Ah yes, food,” said Stebbing. “According to this, there was vomit on the carpet in the living room. It had been roughly cleaned up, but there was plenty for forensics to take samples. Now I see it’s been analysed for DNA. Any luck with that? The man might be on record.”

Drake strove to keep his voice under control. Pearson’s words brought back the memory of the agonising pain Bodley had inflicted on him in his flat. He nodded at the file. “Page forty eight, at the back.  We’ve searched the database but no match has been found so far.” Thank Christ I’ve never been tested.

Pearson skimmed the papers. “Oh yes, I see. Any other line of enquiries?”

Drake looked at Ramsey.

 “We were thinking of trying the blood transfusion service,” said Ramsey, “but I’m not sure if they test for DNA.”

“Hospitals do, at least some departments I think,” said Stebbing. “You could include them in your enquiries. He might have been a patient some time.”

Ramsey nodded. “We’ve already tried all the local doctors. He wasn’t on any of their lists.”

Pearson steepled his fingers again. He nodded slowly to himself. He looked up.

“What are your thoughts about this man? By now, you must have theories about him.”

Drake shrugged. He’s a fucking alien and I’m shit scared of him.  “We still don’t know how he disabled those three men. The two patrolmen were no help; they didn’t see anything. One minute they were standing in front of him, the next, they were waking up in hospital. The fact he’s left his flat leaving nothing behind indicates he’s got somewhere else to live.”

“And you’ve had no luck finding out where that other place might be,” stated Pearson.

Drake shook his head.  “We’ve got officers questioning estate agents at the moment. He might have bought or rented a place in town. It’s not much of a chance, but we might strike lucky.”

Stebbing moved in his seat. “What about the three men he attacked in the underpass, do their injuries give any hint on what caused them?”

Drake pulled a paper from the file. “This is the doctor’s report. They have no idea how the injuries were caused. They’ve asked around their colleagues, none of them could offer any explanation.”

“We’ll take a copy of that,” said Pearson. “Maybe some of our people might shed some light on it.”

  Drake nodded. The phone rang. Drake idly picked it up, his mind still juggling with the problem of holding back progress while appearing to push the enquiry forward. 

“Drake.”

Drake stiffened, dropping the paper he was holding. He listened intently to the voice in his ear. He put the phone down and stared at Ramsey.

“That was my wife. My daughter Rachel has collapsed at school. She’s at the hospital. I’ve got to go.”

“Did she say what’s wrong with her?” asked Ramsey.

Drake shook his head as he piled the papers on his desk. “I’ll have to leave these gentlemen in your care. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

He grabbed his coat and hurried out of the office leaving a startled Ramsey facing the two security men.

Chapter 20 New Chapter

CHAPTER 20

            Drake left his car in the car park and after a brief enquiry at the reception desk, hurried through the hospital corridors. He found his wife sitting in a small side room. She rose from her chair as she saw him and ran into his arms.

“What’s happened Elaine, what’s wrong with her,” asked Drake, holding his wife.

Elaine shook her head. “I don’t know. I got a call from the school saying Rachel had collapsed. They called an ambulance and then called me. I’ve spoken to a nurse, they rushed her straight to an operating theatre, she’s still in there.”

“What about Sarah, is she all right?”

Elaine nodded. “She’s still at school. One of the teachers are looking after her until my mother can pick her up.”

Drake looked round. Seeing a nurse, he hurried over to her.

“Can you find out what’s happening to my daughter? Rachel Drake, she’s a ten year old, brought in about an hour ago.”

The nurse thought for a second. “I think she’s still in surgery. I’ll try and find out for you.” The nurse walked through a set of swing doors. She returned five minutes later. “I was right, she’s still in surgery. I’m afraid I haven’t any details yet. I’ve left a message for the surgeon. He’ll come and see you when he can.”

Drake nodded his thanks and rejoined his wife. Time passed. Drake looked up at the clock on the wall for what seemed the hundredth time. The hands seemed stuck in one place. The shadows from the small trees outside the window had stretched right across the grass before the swing doors finally opened. They both looked up as a man dressed in theatre greens came into the room. His face told a story they didn’t want to hear.

“My daughter,” began Drake.

The surgeon shook his head. “I’m sorry Mr. Drake. We did all we could, I’m afraid she’s gone.”

Elaine buried her head on Drake’s chest and started weeping quietly. After a minute, she dried her eyes and looked up. “Can we see her?”

“The surgeon nodded. “Of course you can. Please give us a short while to tidy her up for you. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Drake and his wife clung together until the surgeon returned.

“If you’ll come this way,” he said.

They followed him through the swing doors down a corridor to a small room. Rachel lay on a bed, her head swathed in bandages. Drake thought she looked asleep. Elaine lent over the bed and gently stroked Rachel’s face. She looked up at the surgeon.

“What happened to her? She was perfectly all right when I took her to school this morning.”

“She had a burst aneurysm in her brain.” The surgeon hesitated and seeing the blank looks, explained further. “An aneurysm is a bulge in an artery. It’s a weak spot. The one in Rachel’s brain ruptured.  By the time she arrived here, it was already too late. We repaired the artery but blood loss had damaged her brain so much she didn’t have a chance. I’m very sorry.”

“Was it something that happened at school?” asked Drake. Did she have an accident or a fight or something?”

“Not as far as I’m aware,” replied the surgeon. “From what the teacher told the paramedics, she just collapsed during one of the lessons.”

“What could we have done?” asked Elaine, her voice choking. “Was there something we missed? Would there have been a sign of this about to happen?”

The surgeon shook his head. “I’m afraid not. It’s a very rare condition, especially in a child. No, don’t blame yourselves, there’s no way you could have foreseen this.”

A thought struck Drake. “She was one of twins. Could our other daughter have this condition?”

“A twin.” The surgeon rubbed his chin. “Identical?”

Drake nodded.

“In that case we’d better have her in for tests. If we do find evidence of an aneurysm, we can repair the artery. If we find nothing amiss, that will set your mind at rest.”

“When,” demanded Drake.

“As soon as possible, I think. The fact she’s one of identical twins does slightly alter the odds of her having the same condition. I’ll leave you with your daughter now. Come and see me when you’re finished here. I’ll arrange an appointment for your other daughter.”

He left the room, glancing back over his shoulder at the two silent figures bent over the bed.

            Drake returned to the station a week later. He walked down the corridor to his office, acknowledging the sympathies of his colleagues. Ramsey looked up as he entered the office.

“Phil, I heard what happened, I’m so sorry.”

Drake sat down with a thump. He nodded slowly. “Thanks, Duncan; it’s been a hell of a week.”

“I bet it has,” replied Ramsey. He walked to a kettle on a shelf. “Want a drink?”

Drake looked up. “Yeah, why not.”

He sat quietly as Ramsey poured the hot water into the cups. He took the coffee from Ramsey with a nod of thanks.

“How’s Elaine?” asked Ramsey.

Drake took a sip of coffee. He put down the cup and rubbed his forehead. “I don’t think its sunk in yet. We took Sarah to the hospital yesterday. They tested her to make sure she didn’t have the same thing as Rachel. She’s OK thank God.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” replied Ramsey. He sighed. “What a rotten thing to happen. Are you sure you want to be here. Wouldn’t you rather be at home with Elaine?”

Drake shook his head. “Elaine’s mother has come to stay with us for a while. I’d go mad sitting at home with nothing to do. At least if I work, it takes my mind off it.” He held his head in his hands. “I might not be much good; you might have to carry me for a bit.”

“No problem mate,” said Ramsey softly.

“How did you get on with those two security blokes, I’m sorry I had to leave you in the lurch like that,” said Drake.

“Christ, don’t worry about that,” replied Ramsey. “You could hardly be expected to stay.” He waved his hand. “They didn’t stay much longer after you’d gone. I made copies of anything they wanted and they left. Hopefully, that’s the last we’ll see of them.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” said Drake tiredly. “Those people are like a dog with a mouldy bone, they’ll keep worrying at it until they get the result they want.”

Ramsey’s eyes widened. “You think they’ll be back then?”

Drake nodded. “I don’t think they were over impressed with our progress. I think we’ll get some heavy breathing from upstairs for results in the next few days.”

Ramsey sat down with a thump. He looked at Drake. “We can’t be too successful whatever they want, remember what Bodley said.”

Drake grimaced. “I’m not likely to forget it.” He rubbed his eyes. “One good thing, I’m in the clear about the DNA, I’ve never been tested.”

“Thank Christ for that,” breathed Ramsey. “When Stebbing mentioned that I couldn’t remember if your DNA was on file somewhere.”

“No, I’m in the clear,” replied Drake, “forget about it.” 

He took a long drink from his coffee. “The funeral’s next week, it’s been held up by the post mortem. Would you like to come, you met the twins a couple of times, didn’t you.”

Ramsey nodded. “I’ll be there.”

          Ramsey stretched out on his settee idly watching the TV. He’d spent the afternoon at Rachel’s funeral, the sight of Drake’s wife and family still fresh in his mind. His viewing was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. He turned the TV volume down and picked up the phone. Drake was on the other end. His voice was hoarse with emotion.

“Duncan, can you come over to my place now, we need to speak.”

Ramsey froze. “What’s happened, is Sarah all right?”

“She’s fine, for the moment. Come over, please.”

“Give me half and hour.”

Drake sighed. “Thanks, be as quick as you can.” He rang off abruptly.

Puzzled, Ramsey turned off his TV and picked up his car keys. Twenty five minutes later, he was ringing the bell on Drake’s front door. Drake opened the door and let him in. As he closed the door, Ramsey noticed his hands were shaking.

“What the hell’s happened?” he asked.

“Come and sit down,” replied Drake. “I need you to help me explain to Elaine.”

Mystified, Ramsey followed Drake into his lounge where Elaine sat curled up on the settee. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face streaked with make-up. Drake gestured Ramsey to a seat and sat down opposite him.

“I had a phone call from Bodley tonight,” he began.

“Bodley…” Ramsey’s heart sank. The bastard had turned up again.

Drake stopped and rubbed his eyes. He looked up, gripping his hands together in frustration and anger. “He said he was responsible for what happened to Rachel. It was a warning; he reminded me I still had another daughter.”

Ramsey gaped. “Oh Jesus.”

Drake nodded. “I’ve tried to explain it to Elaine; she thinks I’m going mad. Tell her I’m not.”

Ramsey turned to Elaine. “What has Phil told you Elaine?”

Elaine looked up, her eyes red rimmed with tears. “He said some man from outer space killed Rachel because he wouldn’t re-mortgage the house to raise money for him.” She wiped her eyes. “You’re his friend Duncan, make him see it’s nonsense.”

Ramsey slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, Elaine. It’s true.”

Elaine sat up with a jerk. “My God, Duncan, what are you saying?”

Ramsey talked for an hour, telling her what had happened since the night the three men were attacked in the underpass. “I know it’s hard to believe, we can hardly believe it ourselves, but everything I’ve told you is true.”

Elaine bounced off the settee, her lips drawn back in fury. “You’re bloody policemen; you’ve got the whole force behind you, why don’t you arrest him.” She threw herself back onto the settee, glaring at her husband. “What bloody good are you if you can’t protect your own children?”

Ramsey tried to calm her down. “Elaine, the first time we got near him, two patrolmen collapsed in the street. He did the same to us in the flat and more. We didn’t dare tell anyone what had happened. We were scared of what he might do if he found out.”

“Then why didn’t you do what he wanted. If he’s so powerful, why didn’t you obey him? Rachel might still be alive if you had.”

Drake held his wife’s arm.” Elaine, we had to try to break from him. We know now we seriously underestimated him. I admit it was a mistake… .”

“Mistake,” his wife shrieked. “You two have cost Rachel her life.” She collapsed back onto the cushions sobbing convulsively. “Promise me you won’t do it again. Do what he says, please.”

Drake looked at Ramsey who nodded. Drake turned to his wife and held her close to him. “I promise,” he said quietly.

Slowly, Drakes wife calmed. She sat up and dried her eyes. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry Duncan; I made a fool of myself.”

Ramsey waved his hand. “Don’t be sorry Elaine; you had a right to have a go at us. Our only defence is we thought we were doing the right thing.”

Drake silently nodded his thanks from across the room. He sat up in his chair, visibly pulling himself together.

“I’ve been thinking about this. Ever since that day in Bodley’s flat, I’ve been wondering if his story could be true.”

“There’s no doubt about what he did to us, I’d have thought that would be proof enough,” said Ramsey.

“Oh, I don’t mean about his abilities,” replied Drake. “I was wondering if he really is an alien or just a person with abnormal abilities.”

Ramsey shook his head. “Phil, you said yourself, no human could do what he did to us, and what about Rachel.”

“Yeah, but I’ve done some reading since then. There’re lots of stories about people with paranormal abilities. Telekinesis, the ability to move things without touching them, is just one of them.” He paused. “Have you ever heard of Eusapia Pallandino?”

Ramsey mouthed the name, savouring the taste of it. “No, who is he?”

“Her,” said Drake. “She was an Italian woman born in the mid eighteen hundreds. It seems she was dropped on her head as a child and when she reached puberty she found she could move objects without touching them.”

Ramsey grunted. “Hardly scientific evidence.”

Drake leaned forwards. “She was tested by a succession of scientist almost right up to the day she died in nineteen eighteen. They couldn’t find out how she did it. They did everything to try and prove trickery but they couldn’t.”

“Was she for real or is it just a story?” asked Ramsey.

“Oh she was real all right. In her day, she was quite famous. She travelled to England and America putting on her shows.”

“You think Bodley could be someone like her then?”

“It’s a thought. If her abilities were real, it proves Bodley is not unique. It has happened before.”

“Then why the cock and bull story about being an alien.”

“By all accounts Eusapia Pallandino was a rather unstable person. During her shows, she would cheat so blatantly that the scientist investigating her thought they’d caught her out. Then according to them, she’d move things for real. I’m wondering if people with this ability are a bit mentally unstable. That might account for Bodley’s delusions.”

“What about the way he changed his appearance,” replied Ramsey. “He did it right in front of me, you saw him with his new face too.”

Drake thought for a moment. “He could have hypnotised us, I’ve seen shows on the television where people are put under in a second. If a stage magician can do that, why not Bodley.”

Ramsey was silent for a moment. Finally, he looked up.

“Human or not, he can still control us. We are going to do as he says, aren’t we.”

Drake nodded, his face grim. “Bloody right, we’ll not put any more of our families at risk.”

Chapter 21 New Chapter

CHAPTER 21

When Ramsey arrived at the station the next morning, Drake was waiting for him in their office.

“After you left last night, I had another call from Bodley. He wants to meet us again at the same place.”

Ramsey grimaced. “The bastard didn’t waste much time. Did he say what for?”

Drake shook his head. “Probably to pick up from where he left off from last time.” He wrung his hands together, his face screwed up in anger and frustration. “The fucking bastard, I want to kill him for what he did to Rachel.”

Ramsey held up his hands. “Steady mate, remember what we agreed last night. No matter what we feel, we do what the bastard says.” 

Drake rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, he could probably stop us if we tried to attack him anyway. God knows what he’d do if we tried something and failed.” He looked up at Ramsey. “Well, we’ve learned our lesson. From now on we do as he says.” He took a deep breath and waved his hand as he took control of himself. “I’ve been thinking about this. When it’s all over, we’ll have some explaining to do. That’s when the shit’s going to hit the fan, we’re going to have a hell of a job convincing the brass we’re telling the truth.” He paused. “Before you arrived this morning, Painter called me in and asked for a progress report. He suggested various lines of enquiries and asked me why we hadn’t carried them out. I buttered the old bastard up, thanking him for the suggestions  and saying we’d thought of most of them but we hadn’t got round to yet.”

Ramsey sketched a half smile. “Did you convince him?”

Drake nodded. “I think so, but it’s getting harder.”

“So what are you thinking,” asked Ramsey.

Drake opened a drawer and took out a mini-recorder. “I stopped off on the way to the station and bought this. I’m taking it along every time we meet Bodley. At least we’ll have something as evidence when it’s all over.”

Ramsey took the recorder from him and examined it. “How long will it record for.”

“About thirty or forty minutes, its voice activated so we should get everything he says.”

Ramsey passed the recorder back to Drake. “When’s the meeting?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, two o’clock.”

            When they arrived at Bodley’s house, there was no one in sight. Ramsey turned off the ignition and looked up and down the road. Drake tapped him on the shoulder.

“Look, the front door’s just opened.”

“That’s our invite to go in, I reckon, “said Ramsey.

Drake nodded and switched on the recorder in his pocket.  They climbed out of the car and entered the house, walking warily down the hall. They both jumped as the front door slammed shut behind them.

“More of Bodley’s tricks,” muttered Ramsey.

They looked into the room they had been in on the last visit. It was empty. They looked at each other.

“Now what,” said Ramsey.

Drake indicated the settee. “Sit down and wait for him, I suppose. We know he’s in the house somewhere.”

As they sat down, they lost all feeling in their bodies. It was the same sensation they’d felt in Bodley’s flat. Bodley entered the room and looked them over.

“A simple precaution. No doubt you’re feeling rather angry with me, even contemplating violence. I can’t have that, if you attacked me I might cause damage stopping you. I need you fit and healthy.”

“You bastard,” whispered Drake. “Why did you kill my daughter, what harm had she ever done to you?”

“Shut up. You needed teaching a lesson, Drake. From now on you’ll do as I say, both of you. Is that understood?”

Drake nodded, holding back his anger with an effort. “We had a long talk last evening. All we want is to see the back of you. We’ll co-operate. Just leave our families alone.”

Bodley sat down. “Good. I’m going to release you now. Stay in your seats, don’t move.”

Ramsey and Drake felt their muscles twitching as the feeling came back to their bodies. They sat silent, waiting for Bodley’s next move. He drew a bundle of paper from his pocket, walked over to Drake and dropped it onto his lap.

“That’s a list of the things I need. Come back here this time next week. I want to know what progress you’ve made.”

Drake sullenly picked up the bundle and flicked through the pages. After a minute, he looked up.

“Christ, there’s a lot of stuff here, we’ll never get it all in a week.”

“I’m not asking you to,” replied Bodley. “I want to know what is available and what is not. If you can’t get some items, I’ll have to think of alternatives.” He stood up. “Leave now, remember, I want to see you next week.”

The two detectives left the house and got into their car. Drake sat clenching his fists, his hands shaking with emotion. “The bastard,” he whispered over and over again.

Ramsey looked on helplessly. “Steady Phil,” he said gently. “I know how you feel, I feel the same way but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Drake shook his head and wiped his eyes. “I can’t get it out of my mind what he did to Rachel. Seeing him sitting there in front of me made me realise just how much I hate him. Why the hell did he have to live in our town, London is only thirty odd miles south of us, if he wanted to lose himself,  why didn’t he go there”

“He probably has houses there as well,” replied Ramsey. “He said he had other houses under different names. For all we know, he owns houses all over the country. We were just unlucky, that’s all.”

Drake stared at him. “Fucking unlucky. You can say that again.”

Ramsey was instantly contrite. His forehead creased into a frown. “Sorry, Phil. Bad choice of words.”

 Drake shook his head and sighed. He sat for a long moment, collecting himself, then pulled the pages Bodley had given him out of his pocket. Drake peeled off some of the pages and passed them to Ramsey. The two men sat in silence, trying to absorb what they were reading. Drake looked up, tapping the paper in his hand.

“You know, if Bodley is human, he’s going to a lot of trouble to convince us he’s not. Unbelievable as it sounds; I believe we’re dealing with a genuine alien.” He paused, his face furrowing. “I still can’t believe he’d do such a thing to Rachel. I wonder what he thinks of us.”

Ramsey thought for a moment. “From the way he’s treated us, with complete contempt I should think. He doesn’t care about us at all.”

Drake nodded. “That’s what I think. That’s why I think he’s telling the truth. We’re the slaves and he’s the lord and master. As far as he’s concerned, he can do what he likes to us.”

Ramsey passed the papers back to Drake. “That’s why we’ve got to do what he says. We have no way of knowing what could set him off. If we co-operate, we keep him calm and protect our families. That’s all we can do.”

Drake nodded tiredly and started the car.

Drake kept the list in his pocket until he’d finished his shift. Ramsey drove round to his house later that evening. Elaine opened the door to him and ushered him inside. She put a hand on his arm.

“Duncan, since that phone call the other night, Philips’ almost beside himself with guilt. He feels responsible for Rachel’s death. I don’t know what he’s been like at work, but he’s been terrible at home. Try and help him.”

“I’ll do my best, Elaine. He can’t blame himself; I went along with his decision. There’s no way we could have known what Bodley would do.”

Elaine nodded and escorted him into the lounge. Drake was sitting on a settee nursing a drink. His eyes were red; Ramsey guessed he’d recently been crying.

He nodded to Drake. “Phil. How are you?”

Drake finished his drink. “I’ve been better, Duncan.” He visibly pulled himself together and pushed the glass to one side. He pulled the recorder out of his pocket and put it on the coffee table. He looked at his wife.

“I want you to hear this with Duncan. I know we had a hard time convincing you we were telling the truth, well, this is the clincher.”

He turned on the recorder and sat back. A series of muffled noises came from the recorder followed by a loud bang. Elaine jumped.

“What was that?”

“That,” said Drake, “was the front door shutting all by itself.”

They listened in silence as the tape ran on. When Bodley’s voice came out of the tiny speaker, Elaine shivered.

“Is that him?” she asked.

Drake nodded.

She shook her head. “Alfred Bodley, such an ordinary name, he sounds so normal too.”

“It’s not his,” reminded Drake. “He told us he took it from a man born in nineteen twenty two.”

As the recording ran on, she turned to her husband, holding his hand for comfort. At one point of the recording, she looked at Drake. “My God, he’s just admitted killing Rachel.”

Drake nodded, his face set as if made of stone. The voices stopped and Drake switched off the recorder. He dropped it into a sideboard drawer.

“Evidence,” he said. “I’ll take this with me whenever we have to meet him.” He took a deep breath, banishing the images the voice on the mini recorder conjured up. “Now, let’s look at this list.”

Drake spread the sheets of paper on the coffee table and together they studied the contents.

“Can I have a look?” asked Elaine.

Drake passed the one of papers to her. Her brow furrowed as she read down the page. Finally, she looked up. “This is a weird collection of things, I’ve never heard of half of them.”

Ramsey picked up one of the papers and ran his finger down the list of objects. “Lasers, oscilloscopes, various gauges, printed circuit boards, microprocessors.”

“Computers?” queried Drake.

Ramsey shook his head. “No, just microprocessors. He’s given a specification for each one, same for the printed circuit boards. There’re lots of electronic components as well.” He looked up, his finger on the paper. “Look at this, thirty, hundred amp hour absorption glass mat batteries and a thousand feet of insulated copper wire. What the hell is an absorption glass mat battery?  How are we going to find out where to get these things?”

Elaine nodded to a computer sitting on a table in the corner. “We could use the Internet on the girl’s computer.” She paused, her voice catching in her throat. “Sarah’s computer now.”

Drake put his arm round her. “I’m sorry love.” He kissed her forehead gently. “It’s a good idea all the same.” He turned to Ramsey. “Do you want to do it?”

Ramsey nodded and sat in front of the keyboard. After a few minutes, he’d booted up the computer and logged on to a search engine. He looked over his shoulder.

“OK, what’s the first thing on the list?”

Drake put his finger on the list. “A thousand watt carbon dioxide laser, he wants three of those.”

Ramsey entered laser into the search engine and watched the results appearing on the screen. After some searching, he found what he wanted.

“There’s a company in America that makes them.” He studied the screen. “Christ they’re big, they come with a power supply and water cooling system. The whole lot weighs over four hundred pounds. And would you look at the price.” He turned round to Drake. “How many of these things did he want?”

“Three,” replied Drake.

Ramsey shook his head. “It’s going to cost.” He pressed a button on the keyboard and a sheet of paper slid out of the printer. Ramsey put it to one side. “That’s the first.”

They worked until the early hours of the morning. Ramsey turned off the computer and stretched his arms above his head.

“I vote we call it a day. How far have we got?”

Drake shuffled the papers. “We’re only about a quarter of the way through; it’s going to take us all week at this rate.”

After five evenings work, they finally worked through all the items on the list. Drake sat with a calculator adding up the cost. Finally, he looked up and stared at his wife.

“Somehow we’ve got to raise over forty-two thousand pounds.”

Chapter 22 New Chapter

CHAPTER 22

Detective Chief Inspector Painter sat in Chief Constable’s Birdsell’s office, a folder on his lap. Birdsell looked at Painter over the clutter of his desk.

“What’s troubling you Ed, you sounded worried on the phone.”

Painter cleared his throat. “I’ve spoken to Superintendent Beale and he agreed I should speak to you. It’s Drake and Ramsey. I’m worried about their behaviour these last few weeks. Their work is way below their usual standard. They seem to ignore the most obvious lines of enquiry; it’s almost as if they don’t want to get results. They’ll put an effort in every now and then, it’s almost as if they realise they’re behaviour has been noticed and they’re trying to act normally. It doesn’t last though. Within a couple of days, their work rate tails off again. They hardly talk to any of their colleagues; we never see them in the canteen anymore. They’ve taken to going to a pub for their lunch as if they don’t want to talk in front of other officers. It almost as if they have something to hide.”

Birdsell frowned. “Drake did lose his daughter, could that account for it, do you think?”

Painter shook his head. “No, it started before that happened, there’s more to it than that. Up to now I’ve thought of them as two good coppers, I’d hate to think they’re involved with something bent.”

Birdsell’s head came up. “Have you spoken to them at all?”

Painter fidgeted in his chair. “In a round about way. I didn’t want to warn them if they are involved with something dodgy.”

Birdsell held out his hand. “Let’s see the file.”

Painter handed it over. The room was silent save for the ticking of a clock as Birdsell studied the file. Finally, he looked up.

“It’s a bit vague, nothing definite. Still, I can see what you mean. Do you want them put under observation?”

Painter shook his head. “I don’t think it’s come to that yet. I just wanted you forewarned in case action is needed.”

Birdsell passed the file back to Painter. “OK Ed, keep me informed. Keep an eye on them for the next few weeks. If they are up to something, we’ll give them enough rope to hang themselves.”

Three weeks later, Painter was back in Birdsell’s office.

“Drake has re-mortgaged his house. He’s just received a loan of over forty-four thousand pounds. We had a query from his building society about his salary.”

Birdsell frowned. “That’s a tidy sum. It was all above board, I take it.”

“Oh yes, the loan is quite in order. What’s bothering me is what does he want it for?”

“Did he give a reason; usually the building society asks that sort of question.”

“House improvements,” said Painter.

“You can do a hell of a lot of improving with forty-four thousand,” replied Birdsell thoughtfully. “What sort of place has he got?”

“That’s what worrying me,” said Painter. “His house is nearly new; it’s on one of the new estates on the edge of town.” He paused. “Another thing. Would you feel like doing up a nearly new house just after you’d lost your daughter? I know I wouldn’t.”

Birdsell looked up at Painter. “What do you think?”

Painter consulted a file on his lap. “Drake and Ramsey were heavily involved in the Jackson and Peters drug case three months ago. Jackson and Peters are banged up but we know there were more people involved. There’re the drugs too. It’s almost certain we didn’t intercept all of the shipment. I hate to say this, but could Drake and Ramsey be more involved than we think?

“What involved with that drug running gang? These are serious charges, Ed. Have you any evidence to back it up.”

Painter shook his head. “They’re not charges Keith; I’ve no evidence at all. I looked back over the files and this was the biggest case they worked on recently. There was a hell of a lot of drugs involved, maybe enough to temp the most honest copper. I’m just trying to think of a reason for their change in behaviour and why Drake would suddenly need that much money.”

“They haven’t improved then,” said Birdsell.

Painter shook his head. “If anything it’s got worse. All the senior staff have noticed it. Their work was bad enough before Drake’s daughter’s death. After that, it really went downhill. It’s never recovered. I can appreciate a period of mourning but it’s gone on for too long. Their investigations often come to nothing; it seems they have other things on their minds.”

“Well, we have two options,” replied Birdsell. “You can call them into your office and ask them what is wrong. If they can’t give a satisfactory answer, you tell them to buck their ideas up, or else. The other option is to call in some officers from another force to investigate them. You know the men better than I do, what do you think would be the best direction to take?”

Painter hesitated. “I think I’ll call them in, see if I can get to the bottom of it. An investigation is a big step to take. Even if it clears them, it could blight their careers.”

“Right, your decision. Don’t let them know of your suspicions. Just ask for an explanation for the fall-off in their work.” Birdsell paused. “I know how awkward this is for you Ed, suspicion of fellow officers is a poisonous thing, but we’ve got to clear this up, one way or another. Keep me informed.”

Painter nodded. He gathered up his files and left the office. He wasn’t looking forward to the next few days.

Chapter 23 New Chapter

                                                         CHAPTER 23

            Ramsey sat in one of Drake’s armchairs with a drink in his hand. Drake poured two more drinks, passed one to his wife and sat down next to her.

“Well, do you think we got away with it?” asked Ramsey.

Drake nodded slowly. “For now. Somehow we’re going to have to increase our clear up rate and still hold back the investigation into Bodley.” He rubbed his eyes. “That bloody list is not helping. The time we spend searching for the things Bodley wants eats into the time when we should be doing our regular police work.”

“What did Painter say?” asked Elaine.

Drake grimaced. “He read the bloody riot act on us. Told us he was sorry about Rachel but we couldn’t keep using that as an excuse for our poor work rate. I don’t think the old bastard’s heart was in it, but I suppose he had no choice.” He took a long drink from his glass. “Painter’s under pressure from upstairs about the Bodley case. He asked us a lot of questions about our progress. We bullshitted our way through this time but it’s getting harder to put him off. Right at the end of the interview, he casually asked what sort of improvements I was planning for the house. I had to tell him we hadn’t made up our minds yet.”

Elaine’s eyes widened. “He knows about that then.”

“I had the feeling he was more worried about that than our work rate,” said Ramsey. “What do you think?”

Drake nodded. “Yeah, he was very casual about it, wasn’t he. Maybe a bit too casual.”

“But you’re in the clear for now,” pressed Elaine.

“I think so,” said Drake.

“When do you have to see Bodley again?” she asked.

Drake swirled his drink in his glass. “Day after tomorrow. The first shipments on the list should be arriving at his address. He wants to check it through with us.”

Ramsey sighed. “Another days’ entry into our log books we’ll have to fake. You know, my book is starting to look like the biggest work of fiction since War and Peace.”

            Ramsey parked his car outside Walsh’s flat and slowly walked up the path to the door, trying to forget Bodley for just one evening. Walsh opened the door before he had a chance to ring.

“Saw you coming,” she said with a smile. “We’ll go in my car if you like.”

Ramsey smiled. “At last I’m going to find out what you do every Thursday evening. I hope it’s worth it.”

Walsh shouldered a large black bag and jingled her car keys. “Wait and see,” she said.

Ramsey was mildly surprised when they stopped in the car park of the local swimming pool. “Swimming, is that it?” he asked.

Walsh took his arm as they walked towards the building. “Diving.”

“Diving,” echoed Ramsey. “What bouncing off springboards. Is that the big secret?”

 Walsh shook her head. “No scuba diving. I’ve been doing it for years. We use the pool to keep in shape during the winter.” She shivered. “I can’t wait for spring so we can start our sea dives again.”

Ramsey raised his eyebrows. “Oh, that sort of diving. I thought you meant, well, you know.”

Walsh punched his arm. “Twit,”

Ramsey sat on one of the tiers of seats looking down into the jelly-like blue of the swimming pool. Dark shapes glided under the water half hidden by the reflection of the overhead lights. A whistle blew, its shrill blast echoing round the pool. The swimmers came to the surface, the ripples from their movements, breaking the reflections into thousands of tiny sparkles of light. Ramsey looked at his watch; the session was over. The swimmers made their way to the ladders at the end of the pool and climbed out of the water, the noise level in the pool rising as they chatted to each other. Walsh removed her flippers, mask and snorkel and picked up her towel from one of the lower seats. Climbing the steps to where Ramsey sat, she sat next to him, breathing heavily.

“Whew, that was fun, bloody hard work, but fun. You should try it sometime.”

Ramsey smiled. “What’s that game called?”

“Octopush,” replied Walsh. She held up a small object shaped like an oversized spoon. The idea is to push the puck into the opponents’ goal. It can be very frustrating. Just when you’re near the goal, you have to come up for air and someone else gets the puck.” She patted her face dry with the towel.

Ramsey nodded at the pool. “That chap in the red trunks. I timed him. He stayed under for nearly two minutes. Is he half fish or something?”

Walsh smiled. “That’s Dave; he’s got the best lung capacity of anyone I know. He’s the one that got me into scuba diving in the first place.”

Ramsey perked up. “Oh yes, how did you meet him?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

“At university, we go back a long way.” She studied Ramsey’s face. “No, I haven’t slept with him.”

Ramsey smiled. “I’m as transparent as glass to you, aren’t I?”

Walsh punched him lightly on the shoulder. You’re jealous. That’s good. It means I can keep you interested.”

Ramsey nodded. “I’m interested all right,” he said, leering at her wet swimsuit.

Walsh raised her eyes to heaven. “Men, what would you do with them? Sit down and control yourself. I’m going to get changed. Try to behave yourself while I’m away.”

Chapter 24 New Chapter

CHAPTER 24

Both detectives were silent on the drive to Bodley’s house, each with his own thoughts. As Ramsey drew up outside the house, he thought wistfully of the previous night. After they’d returned to Walsh’s flat, they’d hardly closed the front door before they were tearing at each other’s clothes. In her bed, as he’d run his mouth along her body, he could still detect the faint chorine smell of the swimming pool on her skin. He sighed and tried to concentrate on their meeting with Bodley. The front door was open so they walked into the house. Bodley met them in the hall and indicated with a flick of his head for them to follow him. His display of confidence in turning his back on the two detectives showed just how sure he was of his complete control over them. They followed him to a room at the back of the house. Shelves lined the walls, each one full of boxes. In one corner, a number of large crates were stacked on top of each other. Through a grimy window, Ramsey could see part of the unkempt back garden. He wondered idly how often Bodley visited the house. It had the rundown look of neglect. Bodley nodded at the pile of goods round him.

“This is about half of what I need. Have you ordered everything on the list?”

Drake nodded. “Some of the things on the list have to be made. You can’t expect to get them delivered straight away.”

“But you have ordered them?”

“Yes, everything has been ordered,” said Drake tiredly. He was thinking of the amount of money he’d spent. A brief spasm of anger rose in him. His money, money he’d have to spend the rest of his life paying back.

Bodley nodded. “All right, come with me to the front room. I want to talk to both of you.”

The two detectives followed Bodley to the front room and sat down on the settee, waiting for the familiar paralysis to come over them.  Bodley shook his head.

“No, I don’t think it’s necessary to restrain you. I think you know how to behave now.”

“You read minds too?” asked Ramsey. He bit his lip. The sarcasm was evident in his voice. The ordinariness of Bodley’s appearance sometimes made him forget how dangerous the man was.

“I could see what you were thinking, your faces reflect your thoughts,” replied Bodley, seemingly ignoring the tone of Ramsey’s voice. “Now, I have further instructions for you. Can you both swim?”

The sudden change in subject caught the two men off guard.

“Swim?” said Ramsey. “Er, yes.”

Bodley looked at Drake who nodded.

“Good,” said Bodley. “My ship is about thirty feet under water; you’ll have to be able to swim to dive down to it.”

Ramsey felt his heart sink. “Thirty feet, I can’t dive to thirty feet.”

“Neither can I,” said Drake.

“In that case, you’ll have to use breathing apparatus,” said Bodley.

“We don’t know how to use stuff like that,” protested Ramsey. “We could get ourselves killed.”

Bodley stared at him. “Don’t try and put obstacles in my way, Ramsey. There are diving clubs that can instruct you.”

A horrible suspicion came over Ramsey. Did Bodley know about Debbie Walsh? The coincidence of his visit to the swimming pool the previous night followed by Bodley’s demands chilled him. Keeping his face straight, he looked at Bodley.

“All right, so we get instruction.  What are we supposed to do? Why do you need us at your ship?”

“I will difficult and tiresome to repair it on my own. It’ll be easier with help. You two will help me.” 

“How the hell are we supposed to do that,” said Drake. “We don’t know anything about it.”

You’ll work to my instructions,” said Bodley. “The rest of the goods I’ve ordered should be here in a few months. I want you both to be able to dive by then. Your winter should be over by then, the weather should be good enough for us to dive down to the ship. When I give the word, you can hire a van and we can load the goods and travel north.”

“Where is it?” asked Drake.

“You don’t need to know that,” said Bodley. “You’ve got your instructions. I won’t need to see you for some time. Just be sure you’re ready when I call on you.”

“Hold on,” protested Drake. “Just how long are we going to be away? We can’t just down tools and drive away with you. We’ll have to give some reason for our absence.”

Bodley thought for a moment. “We’ll go at the beginning of May. It should take two or three weeks for the repair. Arrange to be absent from work then.”

“But you don’t understand,” said Drake. “If we’re involved with a case, we can’t just leave it. Our superiors won’t give us leave.”

Bodley’s face hardened. He lent forward in his chair. “The beginning of May. Be ready then. No excuses.”

The sudden change in Bodley’s manner frightened them into silence. It was obvious he would not listen to any argument. They sat still, not daring to move as Bodley stared at them, his head thrust forward. Both men tensed in anticipation of the searing pain they’d experienced before. Finally, Bodley sat back in his chair, his face relaxed.

“All right, you’ve got your instructions. Now go.”

The two detectives climbed warily to their feet. At the door, Drake turned, a frown creasing his forehead.

“You say you need us to help repair the ship. What would you have done if we hadn’t been around?”

“I would have picked up two members of a diving club,” replied Bodley. “There are many in this area, I could take my pick. Of course, their disappearance could have caused complications. Now I have you two, I  won’t have to run that risk.”

 He stood up, urging them through the door. “Now get out, remember, I’ll be watching you.”

Chapter 25 New Chapter

CHAPTER 25

Two evenings later, Ramsey pushed open the police station doors after finishing his shift. He stood for a moment on the steps, enjoying the feel of the cool evening air on his face, a welcome change from the stuffy squad room. He drove to Walsh’s flat and rang her bell. After a short wait, Walsh opened the door and let him in, leading him down the short hall to her front door. She shut the door and kissed Ramsey with such sumptuous moistness it raised his eyebrows into his hairline. She stood back and smiled.

“I’ve made us a Chinese meal,” she said. “But first….”

She led him to the bedroom and grabbed his tie, pulling him to the bed. Ramsey’s clip-on tie came away in her hand and she fell backwards onto the bed in fits of laughter.

“My big seduction scene,” she giggled. “You’ve ruined it.”

 Ramsey fell towards the bed, hopping on one foot as he pulled off his shoes.

 Later, Walsh rose from the bed. She put her finger on Ramsey’s lips.

“I’m going to have a quick shower, stay there ‘till I’m finished.”

Ramsey nodded contentedly. She re-entered the bedroom five minutes later, drying herself on a large fluffy towel. Ramsey climbed out of the bed and headed for the shower. While he was dressing after his shower, he could hear the clink of plates and cutlery from the kitchen. His mouth watered in anticipation

They sat with their plates on their laps, idly watching the television. A large black and white cat jumped onto the settee between them and snuggled down on the cushions. Ramsey stared at the cat.

“Where did that come from, I didn’t know you had a cat.”

Walsh smiled down at the cat. “She’s been here all the time. When you first came here, she kept out of the way. Now you’ve been here a few times, she must have decided you’re harmless.”

 As they started eating, the cat’s head came up. It climbed to its feet, stretched and walked over to Ramsey. It put its front paws on his leg and stared into his face. Ramsey looked at Walsh.

“What’s it want?” he asked.

Walsh smiled. “Don’t be disrespectful, it’s not an it, it’s a she. That’s Lucy Locket. She’s after your food. She knows I won’t let her have any, she’s trying her luck with you.”

The cat’s eyes followed the movement of Ramsey’s fork from his plate to his mouth, her head moving as if tied to the fork with string. A paw dabbed ineffectually at the fork.

“Shall I let her have some?” enquired Ramsey.

Walsh shrugged. “Up to you. Once you start, you’ll never get rid of her though.”

Ramsey put some food in his hand and watched with amusement as the cat devoured it, licking his hand to ensure nothing was left.

Walsh raised her eyebrows. “Now you’ve done it, you’ve got a friend for life now.”

“Lucy Locket,” mused Ramsey. “Where did that name come from?”

Walsh faced him, her fork poised in front of her mouth. “When she was a kitten, she was very wobbly on her feet. One of my friends said she had loose elastic in her legs. It sort of developed into Lucy Locket from that.”

“We had cats when I was a kid,” said Ramsey, reminiscing. “We were always letting them in or out. It seemed whatever side of a door they were on; they wanted to be on the other side.”

Walsh gestured at the windows with her fork. “Not with Lucy. She has her own cat flap. I replaced the bottom window in the French doors with wood and fitted it in that. That’s why I had to have a ground floor flat, couldn’t do that if I was upstairs.”

“You were lucky,” replied Ramsey. “Didn’t your landlord object?”

Walsh shook her head. “No. I just offered to go to bed with him and he agreed to anything I wanted.”

Ramsey half choked on a mouthful of rice. When he’d recovered, he lent back shaking his head with amusement. He put his hand out and idly scratched behind the cat’s ears. The cat butted her head against his hand. Ramsey was amused by the reaction to his stroking and it kept her away from his plate.  “I’ve been thinking,” he began.

Walsh looked up.

“After watching you the other night, I wouldn’t mind trying diving. How would I go about learning?”

Walsh put down her fork. “Watching me? Are you sure you weren’t watching Jenny, you know, the girl in the red swim suit.”

“Never noticed her,” said Ramsey woodenly.

Walsh smiled. “Are you sure, most men can’t take their eyes off her.” She paused. “She has got a magnificent bust.”

“Oh that girl,” said Ramsey airily. He shook his head. “No, I never noticed her.”

“You liar,” laughed Walsh. She flung a cushion at him. Ramsey fielded it with one hand, almost losing his meal into his lap. The cat took shelter under the coffee table.

“Honest, I never even looked at her,” spluttered Ramsey.

Walsh sat back. “Well in that case you can come along to the club; you can join a beginner’s class.” She paused. “I take it you can swim?”

Ramsey nodded. “It wouldn’t only be me. I was telling my gov’ner Phil Drake about it, he’s interested too.”

Walsh smiled. “Well bring him along too. The more the merrier. We can always do with new members.”

“What do I need to bring along with me?”

“Just you and your swimsuit will do. You’ll have to take a few tests first to make sure you’re up to it. If you pass, then you can try out the bottles.”                                     

Ramsey and Drake stood in the shallow end of the swimming pool practising their hand signals, trying to ignore the ringing shouts and splashing noises that echoed round the pool. Thumb and forefinger closed into a ring was ‘OK’. A thumb up signal meant surfacing, not OK, as Ramsey had first thought.  After running through a sequence of signals, they dipped below the surface to get used to breathing through the demand valve. Ramsey lay on the bottom of the pool trying to breathe slowly and evenly as he’d been instructed. He found he had to suck hard to overcome the resistance of the breathing apparatus. After a minute, he stood up and took out the mouthpiece.

“Is there something wrong with the demand valve, I have to suck quite hard to get any air,” he said.

The instructor shook his head. “I guarantee the set’s in perfect working order. It takes a little while to get used to it. The main thing to remember is not to hold your breath as you surface. You could damage your lungs if you do.”

“What even in this pool?” queried Ramsey.

The instructor nodded. “The demand valve supplies air equal to the pressure of water you’re in. Even at ten feet, the pressure difference could damage you if you don’t breathe normally. When we go to the bottom at the ten-foot level, surface slowly. Don’t ascend faster than the bubbles from your set.”

Ramsey nodded. “There’s more to this than I thought,” he said.

The instructor smiled. “Sure is. There’s quite a few ways to kill yourself if you’re not careful.”

“Thanks a bunch,” replied Ramsey with a grin.

“It’s not that bad,” said the instructor. “Just remember, stick to the few rules I’ve taught you and you’ll be OK.”

Drake rose to the surface next to him. He spat out his mouthpiece. The instructor nodded at him. “All right?”

Drake nodded back at him.

“Right,” said the instructor. “Now we’ll practice swapping mouthpieces. If your set packs up, which is very unlikely I might add, you’ll be glad you know how to do this. Remember the sign for breathing trouble. Get the attention of your dive buddy, he’ll know you need to share his air.” He paused for emphasis. “That’s why you never dive alone, never, OK?”

The three men sank below the surface again.

Ramsey stood by Walsh’s car as Drake drove out of the swimming pool car park, his car’s exhaust leaving a ghostly wraith of white vapour in the cold night air. Ramsey shivered and opened the car door and climbed in beside Walsh.

“All right?” she asked brightly.

Ramsey nodded. “Yeah, it was good. We both enjoyed it. It looks like you’ve got two new members.” He rubbed his eyes.

Walsh noticed. “Sore?” she asked.

Ramsey nodded. “I got water in my eyes when we were practising clearing a flooded mask. The chlorine’s made my eyes sting.”

Walsh turned to him. “Ah, diddums, she crooned. “I’ll kiss them better when we get home.”

Ramsey smiled. “I’ll hold you to that — diddums.”

Walsh giggled and started the car. As she turned to the exit, the car park lights briefly shone into the car. To Ramsey, it felt like a search light had hit him in the face. He squinted as the glare stung his eyes. Once they were out onto the main road, he relaxed his head back and closed his eyes. When the worst of the stinging had stopped, he turned to her.

“What sort of suit do you think we should buy?”

Walsh frowned. “It’s a bit soon to be thinking about that. I’d wait till you’ve been for a few more times.”

“Oh, I’m not thinking of buying anything at the moment. I just wondered what you’d recommend.”

“I have a dry suit. They’re easier to put on and off than a wet suit. They cost a lot more though.”

“How much?”

Walsh told him.

Ramsey whistled. “Not a cheap sport. The chap instructing us told us the price of the bottles and demand valve. Taken together, it adds up to quite a sum.”

“That’s why I think you should wait before making any decision to buy,” replied Walsh. “Remember what else you’d need. Fins, depth gauge, diving knife, waterproof watch, a lifejacket and a weight belt and weights, it’s quite a list. You want to be sure you really want to stay in the sport before you commit yourself.”

Ramsey smiled. “I’m pretty sure I do,” he replied, “I take your point though.”

He sat in silence for the rest of the journey. He was becoming increasingly worried he could be putting Walsh’s life in danger. Bodley’s statement that he knew about diving clubs and his intention of kidnapping two divers if he and Drake hadn’t been available had shocked him. For all Ramsey knew, Walsh could have been one of the divers on his list. He mulled it over in his mind. It was a long shot, there were plenty of other diving clubs around, even so, if Bodley found out she was his girlfriend, he could threaten her health to keep him in line. He had no intention of disobeying Bodley, but Bodley didn’t know that. He had seriously thought of breaking off his relationship with her, to put distance between them, but the more he thought about it, he realised he couldn’t, he couldn’t imagine life without her company.

Chapter 26 New Chapter

CHAPTER 26

The weeks passed. The weather warmed and the first daffodils appeared in the front gardens lining the streets on Ramsey’s route to work. Ramsey liked the daffodils. They helped lift the depression that seemed to hang over him most of the time. The gardens in winter were bare, with nothing more than dark twigs poking out of the ground. Daffodils brought back colour. Daffodils meant that winter was nearly over and spring was on its way. The weak sunshine illuminated the inside of his car, throwing into sharp relief the scratches and dust on the dashboard. Car needs cleaning thought Ramsey sourly. He hadn’t touched it, apart from putting petrol in the tank since the fateful meeting with Bodley. He mentally winced. It seemed whatever he thought about, eventually his thoughts turned to Bodley. He tried to backtrack, to regain his earlier good spirits. He was thinking about the daffodils and spring. Spring also meant they were nearing the time when Bodley would want them to dive to his ship. He gave up. The malign presence of Bodley had intruded again.

The weekly sessions at the pool had increased the two detective’s confidence they could do what Bodley wanted without killing themselves. They had continued meeting in the pub at lunchtime so they could talk about their problems without fear of being overheard. They dare not talk about anything connected to Bodley at the station. They sat on stools, leaning over their drinks, facing each other over a small round table.

“We’re going to need a compressor for our cylinders,” said Drake. “Bodley said the job would take about two to three weeks, we can’t take enough big bottles to recharge our cylinders, they’d weigh a ton.”

Ramsey nodded. “Have you got enough money left for that? I’ve got some savings.”

Drake cut him off with a wave of his hand. “No, I’m all right for money; I borrowed more than I needed, just for emergencies. I don’t want anything to go wrong with this; nothing must upset Bodley. I want the job done and him gone and off our backs.”

Ramsey nodded in silent agreement. He took a drink from his glass. “While we’re buying the compressor, we might as well buy the rest of the kit we’ll need. We know enough about it now to know what to get.”

Drake nodded. “We’ll do it well away from here, we don’t want anyone from the diving club finding out, they might ask questions we don’t want to answer.”

“Bloody right,” agreed Ramsey. “Especially Debbie. I want to keep her as far away from this as possible. I don’t want her involved.  As far as I know, Bodley doesn’t know about her. I want to keep it that way.”

He paused as a couple sat at the table next to them. Drake moved round the table so he was next to Ramsey. He leaned his head forwards.

“Has she asked anything about the attack in the underpass? You mentioned at the time she was curious about it.”

Ramsey shook his head. “She did ask a couple of times but I’ve managed to put her off. After we’d been going out together for a few weeks I told her I’d rather not discuss my police work when we’re together. So far, it’s worked out all right.”

“Good,” replied Drake. “Now, can you remember what Bodley said about his ship? I’m trying to think what sort of diving we’ll have to do”

“Bodley said his ship is down about thirty feet,” replied Ramsey. He paused. “I wonder how accurate that is. If it’s deeper, we’ll need a set of diving tables for decompression stops.”

Drake nodded. “We also need to know how long we’ll be under. That’ll have a bearing on what size cylinders to buy.”

“I’m presuming we can work without the breathing sets inside his ship, if that’s the case we’ll only be in the water for a few minutes,” mused Ramsey.

Drake took a long drink from his glass. “We can’t presume anything. We need more information. We’re going to have to contact Bodley somehow.”

Ramsey walked up the garden path to Bodley’s house. He noticed with certain sense of irony that daffodils were the only flowers growing in the front garden. He paused on the doorstep and then reached out and pressed the bell push. He heard the bell ringing somewhere inside the house. He waited and then rang again. He’d half expected the house to be empty so he pulled the note he’d prepared from his pocket and put it through the letterbox. As he was turning from the door, a woman looked over the fence from the next-door garden.

“Mr. Richards isn’t usually in at this time of day,” she offered.

“Richards?” asked Ramsey, momentarily puzzled by the change of name. “Oh yes, have you any idea when he’ll be back?”

“He comes and goes at all sorts of times,” replied the woman. She looked Ramsey up and down. “Can I help?”

Ramsey shook his head. “Just a small matter of insurance, I’ll see him some other time.”

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you,” said the woman. “With that other gentleman.”

Ramsey thought fast. “Ah, yes, my area manager. Well good day to you, I have other calls to make.”

He nodded to the woman and walked back down the path to his car. As he drove away, he could see the woman staring at him.  Bloody nosy cow he fumed. So he and Drake had been seen at the house, they’d have to be more careful in future.

It was a week before they heard from Bodley. Drake came into their office and sat down heavily in his chair. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“I had a call last night. Bodley said he’d be at his house two days from now.”

“Did you tell him what I told you, about his nosy neighbour?” asked Ramsey.

Drake nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t seem to care. Even so, I don’t think it’s a good idea for both of us to go.”

“Do you want me to go then?

“It might be best if you don’t mind seeing that bastard on your own,” said Drake.

“I don’t think I’ll come to any harm,” replied Ramsey. “He needs us healthy. He’s told us that plenty of times.”

Drake pursed his lips. “Just be careful all the same.”

Ramsey couldn’t get away from his police work until late evening. He parked a couple of hundred yards from Bodley’s house and walked slowly along the pavement. A light fog was in the air, forming a halo of mist round the streetlights. He walked through the pools of shadow between each light, the orange glow a small oasis of radiance on the deserted street. As he passed the silent houses, he suddenly felt terribly lonely. He could see a faint glow of light through the windows. He felt envious of the occupants,’ snug inside, with their safe normal lives, their curtains drawn against the night. He reached Bodley’s house and felt for the latch on the gate. The wood felt damp under his hand as he pushed it open. He approached the front door, hesitated for a moment, then pressed the bell. The door moved under his hand, swinging open. Ramsey stepped cautiously inside. Bodley was waiting for him in the hall.

“What do you want? I told you I didn’t want to see you until we were ready to leave,” he snapped.

Ramsey faced him. “We need more information about your ship.”

Bodley glared back at him. “I’m telling you nothing. You’ll work to my instructions, that’s all you need to know.”

Ramsey shook his head. “Bodley, this is not idle curiosity. If we’re going to dive down to your ship, we need to know the precise depth and what the working conditions will be like. If you can’t tell us that, we might as well call the whole thing off. We’ll be no use to you if we kill ourselves on the first dive.”

Bodley stood silent. Finally he nodded to himself. “All right. The seabed is a maximum twenty-seven feet below the surface, depending on the state of the tide. You won’t have to dive deeper than that.”

“How do we get inside,” said Ramsey. “And once we’re in, will we be able to work without breathing sets.”

“The ship has a door of course. An airlock. Once we’re inside, I’ll pump the water out and open the inner door. The air inside the ship is perfectly breathable.”

“At one atmosphere? I need to know this. If it’s over one, it’ll affect our time down there.”

Bodley nodded. “You’ve done your homework, Ramsey. I’m glad you’re taking this seriously. Yes, the pressure is one atmosphere. Is there anything else you need to know?”

Ramsey shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Bodley indicated the door. “Right, leave now, I don’t want to see you until we leave for the north.”

Ramsey left the house, the door slamming shut behind him. As he walked back to his car, a question that had been nagging at him for some time was buzzing in his head. What was going to happen to them once the ship was repaired? He couldn’t believe Bodley would just let them go with all the knowledge they would have gained about him. He’d said nothing of his doubts to Drake, he had enough to worry about, but the thought was constantly at the back of his mind. He climbed into his car and mentally shrugged, trying to put the thought out of his mind. The thought was like a toothache he kept exploring with his tongue to feel the bright sharp pain. He kept coming back to it, exploring it from every angle, with no greater success at solving the problem, as when the thought first surfaced.

.

Chapter 27 New Chapter

CHAPTER 27

Ramsey carefully backed the hired van until it was almost touching Drake’s garage. He jumped out and walked to the back of the van. As he opened the back doors, Drake opened the up-and-over door of his garage. The two men quickly unloaded the boxes and parcels into the garage, shut the van doors and pulled the garage door down. Ramsey looked over the pile of boxes.

“There’s a few quid’s worth here,” he said.

Drake pushed the compressor into a corner. “Let’s hope we don’t have burglars then.” It was the first time in many months that Ramsey had seen a spark of the old Drake. He straightened up, dusting his hands. “Come on, let’s return the van. The quicker we get rid of it, the less likely it is to attract attention.”

After returning the van to the hire company, they picked up Drake’s car from the corner of the yard and returned to his house. They had ordered the diving gear some weeks previously from a supplier thirty miles away and now it was safely stored in Drake’s garage, they felt they could relax.

Back in the garage, they unpacked the dry suits and hung them up. Stacking the bottles on a shelf, they inspected the demand valves and hoses. After half an hour, they had checked all their purchases. 

“I think we should repack these in their boxes,” said Ramsey. “Less chance of damage that way.”

Drake nodded and they carefully replaced all the items in their packaging. At one point Drake held up his diving knife. “You know what I’d like to do with this.”

Ramsey nodded. “You’d have to take your turn behind me.”

Ramsey sat in one of Drake’s armchairs and massaged his temples. Drake, at the sideboard pouring drinks, looked round.

“You all right?” he asked, holding out a glass.

Ramsey took the offered drink. “I’ve been living on my nerves for the past few months. Going to the dive shop didn’t help, every time we walked in; I was expecting to meet someone from the dive club.”

Drake raised his glass. “Well we got away with it. All we’ve got to do now is fix Bodley’s ship.”

“All?” Ramsey let out a small barking laugh, a hard, flat sound. “You make it sound like a walk in the park. Christ knows what we’ll find when we get there.”

Drake sat in silence, nursing his drink. He looked up. “It’s only about three weeks ‘till the end of April, we’ll find out soon enough.”

Ramsey nodded slowly. “Yeah, I hope we live through it that’s all.”

Drake’s head came up. “You think we might not?”

Ramsey shrugged. “I keep wondering what Bodley will do when his ship is repaired. Do you think he’ll just let us go?”

“Why not. Once it’s fixed, he’ll leave. He won’t need us anymore.”

“You think he’ll leave us alive with all the knowledge we have about him?”

Drake swirled his drink in his glass. “Why should he care? Even if anyone believed us, he’ll be long gone. Nobody could touch him.”

Ramsey finished his drink in a two convulsive swallows. “I hope to Christ you’re right, I really do.”

The end of April came and went. As the week rolled by, they still had no word from Bodley. Each morning as they met in their office, Drake shook his head.

“Nothing, perhaps he’s forgotten about us.”

“Fat chance,” replied Ramsey. “The call will come. I wish he’d make up his mind though, this waiting is getting on my nerves.”

Two floors above them, DCI Painter knocked on the chief constable’s door. Hearing the muffled acknowledgement from inside, he opened the door and went in. Birdsell nodded to a chair and Painter sat down.

“More about Drake and Ramsey I’m afraid sir.”

Birdsell rested his elbows his desk and clasped his hands. “All right, Ed, let’s have it.”

Painter toyed with the folder on his lap. “I had a phone call from one of the lads in the diving team in the next county. He asked me if we were enlarging our own diving team. When I asked him why he would think that, he said he’d been chatting to a friend of his who owns a dive shop. Two of our men have been buying underwater equipment. One of them was Drake, I’m pretty sure the other was Ramsey.”

“Nothing wrong with that surely,” said Birdsell.

“But they also bought a compressor and associated equipment. I’ve been asking around. You don’t need that sort of stuff if you belong to a diving club, they’d have their own compressors. It appears these two have a suddenly become interested in diving, diving without the backup of a club. Also there’s the cost. The equipment they bought came to several thousand pounds.”

“Are you sure it was Drake and Ramsey?” asked Birdsell sharply.

Painter nodded. “When Drake signed the cheque for the goods it was such a large amount he used his warrant card as ID, it was him all right. His companion was described as tall, slim, with ginger hair. That’s Ramsey to a tee. I don’t like this sir. First their clear up rate suddenly deteriorates, then Drake borrows a large amount of money, now they buy this stuff, It’s right out of character. Much as I hate to say it, I think we’ll have to have them investigated.”

“You’re thinking of Jackson and Peters again, aren’t you.”

Painter nodded. “We know they were bringing the drugs in from Holland via small boats. There a chance that they dumped a good part of the cargo overboard, that’s why we never recovered all the shipment.”

“You think that’s why Drake and Ramsey need the diving gear, they’re going to try and recover the drugs?”

“It’s a possibility that matches the information we have, sir.”

Birdsell rested his chin on his hands. He was silent for a long time. Finally, he looked up. “All right, we’ll get some people from another force to look at them. I don’t want to pull them in yet, a quiet investigation may prove your fears are groundless.”

Painter nodded. “I hope they are sir. I’ve know Drake for a long time.”

“But if they’re not, I want you to come down on them like a ton of bricks. I don’t want any bad apples in my force. The investigation will take a couple of days to organise, I’ll let you know who’ll be your liaison officer, you can brief them with all the information you have.”

Two days later, Painter received a telephone call. He listened briefly and then put the phone down. Later that day, he quietly left the station. After a twenty-mile drive, he turned into a police station car park. At the front desk, he showed his warrant card and was directed to a small office. He sat down and waited. He was joined minutes later by a man and a woman.

“DCI Painter?” said the man.

Painter showed his warrant card again. The man and woman sat down opposite him.

“I’m DI Marshall,” he indicated the woman. “This is DS Petter.” The woman nodded to Painter.

“You have all the information with you?” asked Marshall.

Painter tapped the file on his lap. “Before we start, I ought to tell you we have no hard evidence against these two detectives.”

“I realised that when we were given this,” said Marshall. “If you had, you wouldn’t need us to investigate your men.”

Painter sighed and handed over the folder. “That contains all the facts we have.”

Marshall took the folder. He looked up at Painter. “I don’t like this any more than you do. It’s not a job I would have chosen.”

“We’ll be discrete,” said Petter. “If we find nothing wrong, they’ll never know they’ve been investigated.”

“I hope that is the outcome,” said Painter heavily. He nodded at the folder on Marshall’s lap. “Now let’s go over the facts as we know them.”

Drake walked into his office, his face set. Ramsey looked up and knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

“You’ve heard?”

Drake nodded. “The bastard gave me detailed instructions. We’ve got to hire a van and take it to a set of lock-up garages two days from now. He’s moved all his stuff from his house; I think he was worried about that woman next door.”

“Then what?”

“We load the stuff and go.”

Ramsey raised his eyebrows. “What just like that. We’re only just into May. I thought he’d give us at least a couple of weeks notice. How are we going to explain our absence? Neither of us have booked any time off. We’re both up to our eyebrows with work.”

Drake shrugged. “That’s Bodley’s idea. He told me not to tell anyone we’ll be away from work. He doesn’t want anyone to have advance notice of our absence. Christ knows what’ll happen when we get back, we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Ramsey screwed his face up. “Fucking hell, he’s really going to drop us in the shit. I was hoping we could get this finished and nobody would be the wiser. No hope of that now.”

Drake sat down heavily in his chair. “I just hope we’ll be believed that’s all. At least I’ve got those tapes of Bodley’s voice.”

Ramsey sat up. “What about the list of things we had to buy. That should convince any investigation.”

Drake shook his head. “He took it back last time we were at his house. He also took the list we printed. He said he wanted to check it against his list and the goods he’d received. I never thought about it at the time. I never made another copy.”

“You had enough on your mind at the time,” said Ramsey. What size van did he want, by the way?”

“Big,” grunted Drake. “Not as big as a furniture van but a lot bigger than the one we hired to carry the diving gear.”

“That’s a point,” put in Ramsey. “We’ve got to get that lot over to his lock-up. How do we get in?”

“Bodley gave me a mobile phone number to contact him if I needed to. I’ll call him at lunch time and we can ferry the diving gear to the lock-up this evening.”

“If he agrees,” said Ramsey.

“He’ll agree,” growled Drake. “I’m fed up with Alfred Bodley and his orders. If he wants us to help him, he’ll have to be a bit more co-operative.”

“Steady, Phil. Remember what that bastard can do if we upset him. Just keep your cool until it’s over.”

Later that day the two men loaded their diving equipment into their cars. The compressor was the largest case and Ramsey noticed Drake blowing hard as they lifted it over the tailgate of Ramsey’s hatch back.

“You all right Phil?” he asked.

Drake nodded. “It was just a bit heavy, that’s all. Come on; let’s get these things off my drive.”

They drove to the industrial part of the town. All the factories and offices were closed for the day so they had the streets to themselves. They turned from the main road into small lane. At the end of the lane, a row of industrial lock-up units came into view. The stick like figure of Bodley waved them down and they pulled up in front of him.

“Get your things unloaded and get out of here,” he said. “I don’t want to attract attention.”

Ramsey looked around. The place was deserted. “Not much chance of that Bodley, there’s no-one here to see us.”

Bodley turned on him. “Do what I say,” he hissed. “I have a lot of equipment here, I want nothing to jeopardise its safety.”

Ramsey held up his hands. OK, OK, we’re doing it.”

He unlocked the hatch and lifted out a box. He stood waiting.

“Well, are you going to open the door?”

Bodley started as if he had been miles away, thinking of something else. He turned and opened a small door set into the main door of the lock-up. Ten minutes later, they had transferred the contents of their cars to the lock-up. They walked back to their cars and closed the hatches.

“He’s jumpy tonight,” whispered Ramsey.

Drake turned hate filled eyes at the figure in the doorway. “Fuck him.”

Ramsey nudged Drake. “He’s calling us over.”

They walked up to the motionless figure.

“Well?” said Drake abruptly.

“I’ve decided to go this evening,” said Bodley. “Go and hire a van and bring it back here. I want to see you here within an hour.”

Ramsey’s eyes widened. Christ, this was it.  “What, now, this evening?”

Bodley nodded. “This evening,” he said decisively.

Ramsey looked at his watch. “It’s getting late; I don’t know if anywhere will be open now.”

“You had better hurry then, hadn’t you,” replied Bodley. “Get going.”

The two detectives turned without a word and walked back to their cars.

“Well here we go,” said Ramsey heavily.

Drake nodded, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

As Ramsey was about to get into his car, Drake caught his arm.

“We don’t need both cars for this. We’ll drive back to my house and leave my car. We can pick up the van and I’ll follow you back here in your car.”

Ramsey frowned. “Why Phil, Elaine’s got her own car, she doesn’t need yours.”

Drake gripped his arm. He stared into Ramsey’s face, his mouth working. “Just do it Duncan, don’t argue. I don’t want to leave my car in the hire yard.”

Ramsey shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “Oh yeah, I wasn’t thinking Phil. OK, we’ll go to your house first.” He opened his car door and got in, puzzled at the intensity of Drake’s behaviour.

When they reached Drake’s house Ramsey waited in his car while Drake drove his car in the garage. The garage door swung shut with Drake still inside. Ramsey sat tapping the wheel in impatience. Come on Phil, he thought, we’ve still got to hire a van. After several minutes, Drake rejoined him and they drove off.

“I never even had a chance to tell Elaine we were going,” said Drake.

Ramsey turned to him. “I thought that’s what you were doing; you were gone longer than I thought you’d be. Anyway, she’ll know Phil. When she realises you’re gone, she’ll know the reason why.”

Drake nodded to himself.

Chapter 28 New Chapter

CHAPTER 28

The hire company was on the point of closing when Ramsey and Drake drew up in their yard. The man behind the counter sighed and raised his eyebrows as he saw the two men approach him. He reluctantly turned his computer back on. Ten minutes later, Ramsey drove out of the yard in a large white van, with Drake following him. When they got back to the lock-up, Bodley was in the same position, standing by the door. He walked over to the driver’s door of the van and looked up at Ramsey.

“I’m going to open the main door. Back the van inside so you can load up, there’s room enough. Tell Drake to park his car round the corner. When we leave, you can put the car in the lock-up.”

Ramsey nodded and ground the gears.

Ramsey stood at the back of the van as Bodley pulled the main door shut. A huge pile of boxes and packages were piled up at the end of the lock-up. Bodley rejoined them and nodded at the pile in front of them.

“Get loading, don’t drop anything.”

Drake stared at him. “Aren’t you helping, you’re leaving it all to us?”

Bodley swung round at him, his face thrust forward. “I said get loading, move.”

Drake backed away from the ferocity of Bodley’s response. He looked at Ramsey and shrugged his shoulders. As they wrestled with the first packages, he whispered to Ramsey.

“Obviously, our lord and master doesn’t want to soil his hands with work.”

Ramsey nodded silently and bent to his task.

It took them three hours to load all the boxes and arrange them in the van to Bodley’s satisfaction. All that remained to be loaded was the carbon dioxide lasers with their power supplies and water cooling systems. It took all their strength to lift the power supply into the van.

Drake looked at the remaining two power supplies sitting on the floor and wiped his brow.

“We should have got a van with a tail lift,” he panted. He flopped down on the floor with his back against the wheel. He looked up at Ramsey. “Have to have a break.” He grinned faintly, wiping the sweat from his face.

Bodley strode forward. He glowered down at Drake. “What do you think you’re doing, get on with it.”

“Hold on,” protested Ramsey, holding out his hands, “can’t you see we’re exhausted, give us a minute to get our breath back.”

Bodley whirled on him. Ramsey’s throat tightened as if a noose were being wrapped round it. He staggered against the back of the van, his eyes bulging as he fought for breath.

“Breath,” shouted Bodley. “I’ll give you breath. Get working.”

Drake struggled to his feet. “Leave him alone, you bastard,” he screamed. He stumbled forward and threw an ineffectual punch at Bodley’s face. Bodley stepped back, clear of his wind milling arms, and stared at Drake. Ramsey watched in horror as Drake fell to the ground clutching his chest. Ramsey’s throat suddenly relaxed and the air rushed back into his lungs. He crawled over to Drake and turned him over. His lips were blue and his eyes were rolled up in his head. Ramsey turned to Bodley.

“You bastard, what have you done to him?”

Bodley watched dispassionately from the end of the van, his arms folded.  “He was attacking me; I stopped his heart for a moment.”

“A moment,” whispered Ramsey. “You’ve stupid bastard. You’re not as clever as you think. Look at him. You’ve given him a heart attack. We’ve got to get him to hospital now.”

Bodley shook his head.

“Don’t shake your head at me,” shouted Ramsey. “If he doesn’t get medical treatment right away, he’ll die.”

Bodley lifted his head. “Rubbish, I only stopped his heart for a second.”

Ramsey cradled Drakes body. “If he dies, you’ll get no help from me. Then what are you going to do, kill me too? You’ll have two dead coppers on your hands. There’ll be an investigation like you’ve never seen; you’ll never know what hit you. They’ll investigate us and they’re bound to find clues that’ll lead to you. Every copper in the country will be looking for you. You won’t have a chance.”

Bodley opened his mouth and shut it with a snap. “Take him to hospital then. I want you back here tomorrow night. No excuses. We’ll put off the journey north until he’s recovered.”

            Ramsey ran outside and found where Drake had parked the car, only to realise Drake still had the car keys on him. He ran back and quickly searched Drake’s pockets. Grabbing the keys, he drove the car to the front of the lock-up and dragged Drake onto the back seat. He used his blue light to clear a path through the traffic and drove straight up to the hospital entrance. Leaving the car door open, he rushed inside holding up his warrant card.  His shouts brought a nurse running to the lobby and within minutes, Drake was on a stretcher being rushed through the corridors out of Ramsey’s sight. The next hour passed in a blur for Ramsey. Elaine arrived in response to his hurried phone call. He spent an hour with her trying to explain what had happened and emphasizing over and over again not to breathe a word about it to anyone. Finally, in the early hours of the morning a doctor found them half-asleep on the waiting room benches. After a brief talk with the doctor, Ramsey followed Elaine home where he slept for a few hours on her settee. When he awoke, they had a brief talk together so they could get their stories right, then he drove to the police station. He went straight to Painters office and told him the news. It didn’t take long before it was all round the station.

“Yeah, it was just luck I happened to be with him. We were going to a pub for a late night drink and he just collapsed as he got out of the car. Hell of a thing.” He repeated the story so many times that morning, by the afternoon he almost believed it himself. He got permission from Painter to visit Drake that afternoon and was appalled when he looked through the window into the intensive care unit. Drake was nearly invisible under a maze of tubes and wires. He turned to a nurse standing beside him.

“How bad is he?”

“He’s stable now, but last night it was touch and go. Somehow, he ruptured an artery in his heart. When we opened him up, his chest cavity was half-full of blood. Another half hour and he wouldn’t have made it; the loss of blood would have been too great.” She stared at Ramsey. “Had he been exerting himself before he became ill?”

Ramsey suppressed a pang of guilt. “Not that I’m aware of, he was just getting out of the car when he collapsed.” He paused. “Were his arteries weak then?”

The nurse nodded. “Oh yes, we had to do a triple bypass on him. It was no good trying to repair the damaged artery; it wouldn’t have lasted much longer. When we looked at the others, we found two more in the same weakened state. He’s a policeman isn’t he?”

Ramsey nodded. “Yeah, my guv’nor.”

The nurse frowned. “That could account for his condition in a relatively young man. It’s a very stressful job, isn’t it?”

Ramsey looked down at her and nodded. You don’t know how stressful, he thought. He stood for a moment in silence then turned to the nurse again.

“He will recover won’t he?”

“It’ll take time, but there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be able to live a normal life.”

Ramsey’s shoulders slumped with relief. “Thank Christ for that. Any chance of me talking to him?”

The nurse nodded. “He’s awake, he won’t be much of a conversationalist but he’ll be able to hear you. Keep it quite though, and not for too long.”

Ramsey stood by the side of the bed. Drake looked up at him and acknowledged his presence with a flick of his eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking of,” said Ramsey quietly. “Taking a swing at Bodley like that.”

Ramsey had to lean down to hear his reply. Mist formed inside Drakes transparent breathing mask as he struggled to speak.

“Lost my temper,” he whispered. “Sorry.”

Ramsey looked up as he saw Drake’s wife through the glass. “Elaine’s just arrived, I’ll leave now. Don’t worry about me; I’ll sort something out with Bodley.”

Drake gripped Ramsey’s hand in farewell as Ramsey stood up. He nodded to Elaine as she entered the room. He took her to one side.

“I’ve spoken to one of the nurses. She reckons he’ll make a full recovery. Don’t worry about Bodley; I’ll sort everything out, just stick to our story. If you can, try and tell Phil what we told the doctors.”

She nodded and walked over to the bed. As Ramsey left the room, she was leaning over Drake talking urgently into his ear.

            As the evening approached, Ramsey drove reluctantly towards the lock-up. He wasn’t looking forward to meeting Bodley. As the time to repair his ship grew nearer, he seemed to grow more unstable. To Ramsey, it felt like he was walking through a minefield. The slightest misstep could end in a disaster like the previous night. He parked his car and opened the small door. Bodley was waiting inside for him.

“Well?” he snapped.

Ramsey lent against the wall trying to show a confidence he didn’t feel. “You really did a job on him Bodley. You tore an artery in his heart.”

Bodley waved his hand in dismissal. “Never mind that, when will he be fit to come with us, how long do we have to wait.”

Ramsey stood away from the wall, anger overcoming his caution. “Wait? You bloody fool; you nearly tore his heart out. He’s had triple bypass surgery. It’ll be months before he can return to work, I don’t see how he’ll ever be able to help you fix your fucking ship, not after what you’ve done to him.”

Bodley was silent for a moment. He looked up at Ramsey.

“Then your lady friend will have to help us. She’s an accomplished diver, I believe.”

It took a second for Ramsey to absorb what Bodley was saying. As the words sunk in, he felt his stomach heave. He tried to put Bodley off. “What lady friend, who are you talking about?”

“The lady friend who works at the university, the lady friend that you go diving with, the lady friend that could suffer a fatal accident if you don’t stop fucking me about.” He glared at Ramsey. “Do I make myself clear?”

Ramsey’s heart sank. The bastard knew about Debbie all the time. He held out his hands. “I can’t ask her, she knows nothing about you, we can repair the ship on our own, we don’t need her.”

Bodley shook his head. “I told you, I need two people to help me. Get her here tomorrow night or she’ll suffer the consequences.”

Chapter 29 New Chapter

CHAPTER 29

DI Marshall and DS Petter sat in a small private room, working their way through copies of the last six months of Drake and Ramsey’s caseload. Marshall had noted the dates and analysed the results of the investigations, while Petter entered the results into a spreadsheet on her laptop computer. From the graph it produced, they were able to sort the files into three stacks on the desk in front of them. Marshall sat back in his chair and tapped one pile with his finger.

“The clear-up rate for this pile is about normal.” He tapped the stack of files next to them. “These are all lower than you would expect. About here is when Drake’s daughter died. After that they made hardly any or no progress at all with their work.”

Petter consulted the computer and slid the middle stack of files towards her. She began leafing through them, studying the dates on the front. She pulled a file out of the stack and opened it.

“This is where the rot set in. Up to the middle of December, their clear-up rate had been above average. With this one, they made virtually no progress at all. The difference is really striking when you compare it to their previous work.”

Marshall turned towards her. “Which one is that?”

“Three men injured in a pedestrian underpass… .”

“I remember that one,” interrupted Marshall. “The men had strange injuries didn’t they?”

Petter nodded. “They reckon two patrol men were attacked by the same man. After they found out where he lived, they raided his flat. After that, virtually nothing.”

Marshall held out his hand. “Let’s see.”

Petter handed the file over. “If you look down the bottom of the page, they found the man was using a dead man’s National Insurance number, that’s as far as their investigation went. No other documents were found, no driving licence, no bank account, nothing.”

Marshall’s brow furrowed as he absorbed the small print of the file. He looked up. “This was a high priority case. It says here that they think some new sort of weapon was being used.  After the patrolmen were attacked, they pulled out all the stops. Christ, they even raided a flat using an armed response team. At one point there were nearly sixty other officers on this case, but Drake and Ramsey were in overall charge. It seems they made no further progress with the investigation. One by one, the other officers were transferred to other cases.” He looked up. “I can’t believe such a high priority case was allowed to tail off like this. The case isn’t closed but it’s definitely been put on the back burner.” He put the file back on the desk.

Petter nodded. “Their log reports show a sudden change at about the same date. The change isn’t obvious if you’re only looking at one entry but when you compare the reports over a period, it definitely shows a pattern. After Drake’s daughter died, some of the entries don’t make sense at all, they seem to bear only the vaguest relation to what they were supposed to be investigating.” She consulted her computer again. “Look at this one for instance. They were supposed to have interviewed a witness in the afternoon, but later it was established the person was working up north for a month. They couldn’t have seen him and returned to the station in one afternoon. They did get their witness statement but it couldn’t have been on the date they said. They’ve obviously covered up the fact the statement was made at a later date. So where were they on that afternoon?”

Marshall rubbed his eyes. “Yes, where indeed.” He nodded at the computer. “So you reckon it all started at about the time of the underpass incident.”

She nodded. “That’s what the graph shows.”

Marshall pulled the file towards him. “Let’s have another look; there must be something in here that’ll give us a clue.”

            Ramsey left the lock-up, seething with anger at his own stupidity. His conviction that Bodley didn’t know about Debbie had been brutally shattered. He’d wanted to keep her as far away from Bodley as possible. He’d even thought of breaking off their relationship so she couldn’t be associated with him. Now he bitterly regretted he hadn’t. He cursed himself for being so short sighted. He should have broken up with her when Bodley had told them they would have to dive to his ship. He drove slowly to Walsh’s address trying to think of the best way to break the news about Bodley. He stopped outside her house and sat in the car for a while putting his thoughts in order. He looked at his watch. It was gone eight, she would be home from the university, it was no good putting it off. He sighed and got out of his car. Like his own flat, Walsh’s was one of four in a converted house. Ramsey ran his finger down the row of buttons and pressed the one marked ‘Walsh’.  The speaker above the buttons came to life.

“Yes?”

Ramsey cleared his throat. “Hi Debbie, it’s me Duncan.”

“Oh hello, I didn’t expect you this evening. Hold on a sec, I’ll be right out.”

Ramsey waited patiently as the hall light came on and a dark shadow appeared through the glass of the door. The door opened and Walsh stood framed in the doorway. She took one look at his face and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

Ramsey tried a half smile. “I need to talk to you, can I come in?”

Walsh stood back in the doorway. “Yes, yes, come in.” She was flustered and tried to conceal it by chatter. “I don’t usually see you Friday evenings, is it something special?”

“Yeah, you could call it that,” replied Ramsey, “let’s go inside.”

Ramsey followed her along the passage to her flat. Once inside, he steered her to the settee and sat down next to her. She sat stiffly on the settee, her concern rising at Ramsey’s silence.

“I’m not sure where to begin,” he said.

Walsh folded her arms across her chest, a frown creasing her brow. “Let me say it for you. You’ve found someone else and you’re dumping me.”

Ramsey was momentarily taken aback. “Christ no, it’s nothing like that. I wish it were that simple; at least you’d be safe.”

Walsh’s eyes widened. “Safe? Why safe.” She leaned forwards, studying his face. “Duncan, what is going on?”

Ramsey leaned back and tried to gather his thoughts. “Do you remember when we first met? You worked on a CD for us.”

Walsh’s smile flickered briefly round her lips. “How could I forget, a girl remembers the first meetings.”

“That was the start of it all,” said Ramsey. “What I’m going to tell you will seem unbelievable but it’s all true. Phil Drake is in hospital as proof.”

Walsh’s mouth fell open. “In hospital, what happened to him?”

For the next hour, Walsh listened in silence as Ramsey recounted the events of the past months. When he’d finished, Walsh sat back on the settee, shaking her head in disbelief.

“This is not a put on?” she said shakily.

Ramsey shook his head. “I wish to God it was.”

“But an alien? A real live alien and you and Phil Drake are his virtual slaves?”

Ramsey nodded slowly. “As good as. We daren’t disobey him, not after what he did to Phil’s daughter. Phil just lost it when he attacked Bodley. Now he’s in hospital.”

She leaned forward, clasping Ramsey’s hand.

“Duncan, are you sure about this. Couldn’t the little girl have died from natural causes? And you said yourself Phil was breathing heavily when he was loading the van. He obviously wasn’t a fit man, that could have caused his heart attack.”

Ramsey shook his head. “Remember what he did to us when we first met him. It wasn’t drugs or hypnotism; he had complete control over us. I’m sorry love, no matter how unbelievable it sounds, what he does is real, I’m not imagining it.”

Walsh shook her head. “You’re right, it is unbelievable. But I have to believe you. I can’t think of any reason why you’d make up a story like this.”

“You haven’t heard the rest,” said Ramsey heavily. “Because Phil is in no condition to dive, he said you’ll have to come with us and take his place.”

Walsh’s eyes widened. “Me?”

Ramsey nodded. “We go tomorrow evening. For Christ’s sake, don’t say anything to anybody. Don’t even hint you might not be at the university tomorrow. If any of this gets out, Christ knows what Bodley might do.”

Walsh bit her lip. She looked up at Ramsey, staring into his eyes. “Why me, how does he know about me?”

Ramsey shook his head. “I don’t know, I didn’t know Bodley knew you existed. I was stupid, that bastard seems to know everything about us. I’m so sorry you’ve got mixed up in this”

Walsh blew out her breath through pursed lips. “Bloody hell.” She rubbed her face. “I suppose I’ve got no choice in the matter?”

“He said you’ll come or suffer the consequences. Christ knows what he’d do to you, we just can’t risk it.”

Walsh moved along the settee and wrapped her arms around Ramsey. She buried her face in his chest. “Jesus, now I’m frightened. Supposing I can’t do what he wants.”

Ramsey stroked her hair. “We’ll work together. We’ll do whatever he says. He can’t expect us to know anything about his ship; we’ll just follow his orders.”

Walsh gave him a hug and sat up shaking her head. “This is incredible. If anyone else had told me a story like that, I’d have thought him certifiable.” She looked up. “Do you really believe this man Bodley is an alien?”

Ramsey shrugged. “I really don’t know. Phil and I talked it over lots of times. Phil thought he might be a man with paranormal powers, he’d read about some Italian woman from the eighteen hundreds who could move things without touching them. That gave him the idea Bodley could be the same type of person. But the more we thought about it, the more certain he is what he says he is. There’s all that equipment he made us buy for one thing.”

“Yeah, but supposing he is just a madman with a strange talent. What happens when we get to where he’s taking us and there’s no ship to repair. It could throw him completely over the edge.”

“Believe me, we thought about that too. The only thing I can think of is to try to steal a gun from the station armoury. It’ll be risky, but if I can do it, at least we’d have something to defend ourselves with.”

Walsh clung to his arm. “No, that’s crazy. Supposing you’re caught, what would happen to us if you didn’t meet Bodley tomorrow evening?”

“I’ve got to do something,” muttered Ramsey. “I feel so helpless against that bastard. If things got really nasty, at least with a gun I’d have a chance to fight back.”

Walsh shook him. “No, no, it’s a mad idea. Please drop it.”

 Ramsey stared at her and finally nodded. “You’re probably right, it is a cockeyed idea. I was thinking of a small handgun I could conceal. There’s probably none of that type in the armoury anyway.” 

“What do you mean?”

Ramsey rubbed his eyes. “As far as I know, the only handguns in the armoury are SIG 226’s. They’re too big to carry without a holster. I’d need something like a small Derringer, something I could slip up my sleeve. No chance of getting one of those.” He slapped his knees. “No forget it, it would be too dangerous anyway, if Bodley found it, we’d be in real trouble.” 

Walsh smiled briefly. “I’m glad that’s out of the way. The thought of guns frighten the life out of me. Anyway, if what you said is true, Bodley would never give you the chance to fire it.”

Ramsey nodded. Yeah, you’re probably right.” He took deep breath, as if wiping away the thought. He looked up. “Now, what have you got to pack for tomorrow?”

Walsh thought for a moment. “It’s all here; I keep my gear at home. There’s only one problem, my cylinders are empty, I can’t keep full ones in the house.”

“That’s no problem, we’ve bought a compressor,” replied Ramsey. “Are you sure you have everything you need, you can use some of Phil’s gear if not.”

Walsh shook her head. “I’ll be all right. I couldn’t use your friends gear, even his facemask wouldn’t fit me properly, and I prefer to use my own tanks and regulator. Where are we going, do you know?”

“Somewhere up north,” replied Ramsey. “He wouldn’t tell us the exact location. As far as I can remember, he said his ship crashed into the sea to the north of this country. Theoretically, that could be anywhere off the north coast of Scotland.”

Walsh gave a half smile. “Plenty of winter woollies then, the sea will be cold at this time of year. We’ll be in danger of hypothermia even with a dry suit.” She turned on the settee, facing Ramsey. “Now, tell me exactly what you have bought. You haven’t had a lot of experience in this; something you might have missed could put us at risk.”

Ramsey smiled and stroked her lightly on the arm. “I like that. You think diving down to an alien’s spaceship in the wilds of Scotland isn’t risk enough?”

Chapter 30 New Chapter

CHAPTER 30

Ramsey couldn’t sleep that night. No matter how hard he tried to relax, his brain kept churning with speculation of what the next few weeks would bring. He felt hot and sweaty. He tried turning his pillow over to lay on the cool side but it didn’t help. After a few hours restless turning, he untangled himself from the duvet and climbed out of bed. He padded to the kitchen and made a mug of coffee. He sat on a stool sipping his drink, idly listening to the late programs on the radio until the first light of dawn shone weakly through the window. He yawned; irritated at the tricks his body was playing on him. Now it was morning, he felt tired. He heard the whine of a milk float outside his house followed by the chink of bottles as they were placed on the doorstep. Time he was moving. He took a cool shower to try to revive himself and after drying himself, sat in his dressing gown forcing down a small breakfast. Before leaving for the station, he hurriedly packed a bag with spare clothes and left it in the boot of his car. At his desk, he plodded through his casework, trying to conceal his nervousness of what the next few weeks would bring. His colleagues, if they noticed his subdued behaviour, put it down to his concern about Drake’s health.  During the day, he dropped hints he wanted to leave early so he could visit Drake that evening, even so, it was nearly seven o’clock before he drove out of the station car park. He stopped at a drive-in hamburger restaurant and wolfed down a burger and fries in the car park. He dumped the empty cartons in a waste bin and climbed back into his car. Half an hour later, he pulled up outside Walsh’s house.  She’d packed all her gear in a bag in the centre of her living room so it was only a matter of minutes to load it into his car. They climbed into the car and busied themselves buckling their seat belts. Ramsey turned and looked at her. She was sitting in the passenger seat looking straight ahead through the windscreen. Her hands were clenched into fists, her knuckles showing white with tension.

“Ready Deb?” he said quietly.

She took a deep breath and nodded.

As they approached the lock-up, Walsh looked through the windscreen at the thin figure standing by the door.

“Is that him?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” said Ramsey. The flatness in his voice made her turn to him. “Remember what I said, say as little as possible to him. We just don’t know what could set him off.”

Walsh warily got out of the car and walked round the back to stand behind Ramsey who stood by his door. Bodley looked at her, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He nodded at Ramsey.

“Good, she’s here. Move the car; I want you to drive the van out of the lock-up.”

“We’ve got her diving gear and my bag to load into the van,” said Ramsey.

“Get the van out first,” snapped Bodley. He looked at Walsh. “You, start unloading your gear, I want to be away from here without delay” He turned to Ramsey. “You’ll drive.”

Walsh looked at Bodley and then at Ramsey. He nodded to her and climbed back into the car. She backed away until she felt the rough brickwork of the building against her shoulders and stood silently as Ramsey moved the car clear of the doors. While he was opening the lock-up doors, she opened the hatch and unloaded her diving equipment and Ramsey’s bag. Ramsey drove the van out, parked the car inside the lock-up and closed the doors. Once their bags were stowed inside the van, they all climbed into the cab. The van had three seats across the width of the cab. Walsh, sitting in the middle seat, shuddered slightly as Bodley climbed in next to her. Ramsey sat with his hands on the wheel.

“Where to?” he asked.

Bodley pulled a map book from the locker in front of him. “Take the M1 north. Drive towards Glasgow, I’ll give you more directions as you need them.”

            Near Rugby, Ramsey moved onto the M6, travelling to Carlisle where he joined the M74 to Glasgow. Bodley had said nothing for the entire journey; the silence in the cab lay heavily on Ramsey and Walsh like a smothering blanket. On the outskirts of Glasgow, Bodley stirred.

“Look for the A82, after you pass Loch Lomond, head for Inverness. I’ll give you more directions when we get there.”

Ramsey nodded in the semi-darkness of the cab and forced his tired eyes to concentrate on the road. “Can we stop there for a while,” he said. “I’ve been driving for hours, I need to sleep.”

Bodley looked at Walsh who in spite of her anxiety, had succumbed to the drone of the motor and fallen asleep, her head tilted back on the headrest.

“No, she can take over at Inverness, we don’t stop.”

On the outskirts of Inverness, Ramsey parked in a lay-by. He gently shook Walsh’s arm. She awoke with a start and looked around.

“Are we there?” she asked sleepily.

“Not yet,” replied Ramsey. “Can you take over for a while, I’m shattered, I was at the hospital most of the previous night and last night, I hardly slept at all. It’s catching up on me; I need to sleep for a while.”

Walsh yawned and rubbed her eyes. “I’ll try. I’ve never driven anything as big as this though.”

Ramsey thought for a moment. “Bodley, how much father is it to your ship, are we nearly there?”

Bodley turned towards him. In the darkness of the cab, his face was all shadows and angles. “We have to go further north.”

“All right,” said Ramsey, looking at Walsh. “I’ll drive us out of Inverness. Once we’re clear of the town, there won’t be much traffic for you to worry about, OK?”

Walsh nodded, and touched his arm. “Thanks Duncan, that would be better.”

The streets of Inverness were a blur as he fought to keep his eyes open. Once they were through the town, Walsh changed places with him. The gear lever poking out through the dashboard puzzled her at first, but after a few tentative moves, she felt her confidence rising. She could drive the van. As she moved off, Ramsey relaxed his head back on the headrest. His eyes had been burning for the past hour, each time he’d blinked, it had been harder to force his eyelids open again. Now he was finally able to let go and give in to the overwhelming desire to sleep. He was past caring if Walsh had trouble driving the van or even if she crashed it. All he could think about was sleep. He shut his eyes and was asleep in seconds.

The cold air on his face from the opened door woke him up. He looked around. In the half-light of dawn, he could see they were parked on the gravel drive of an old house. It was made of dark red bricks topped by a slate roof. Between two bay windows, a porch protected the front door. A rough stone wall surrounded the front garden, which was a tangle of nettles and weeds. A stunted tree grew crookedly near the house. The sound of heavy breakers told him the sea was nearby. Bodley was nowhere to be seen. Walsh sat with her hands on the steering wheel, her head drooping.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Walsh lifted her head. She nodded tiredly, a half smile touching her lips. “We’re here, wherever that is,” she said.

“Don’t you know?” asked Ramsey, trying to collect his wits.

“The last sign post I remember seeing is a place called Skullomie.”

“Skull… ” began Ramsey. “You’re joking.”

She shook her head. “It has a sort of ominous ring to it, doesn’t it? Anyway, after that we were on an unmade road, more of a track really. I know we’re near the sea, I saw a sign for Tongue Bay, apart from that God knows where we are.”

“Where’s Bodley?” asked Ramsey.

She pointed. “He went inside the house.”

As she spoke, lights appeared inside the house. The front door opened and Bodley came out. He walked over to the van and looked up into the cab.

“Lock the van and come into the house. We start tomorrow.”

Chapter 31 New Chapter

CHAPTER 31

Ramsey stirred and lifted his head from the pillow. He squinted his eyes at the daylight coming through the window of the room. He climbed off the settee and stretched his back, easing aching muscles. When they’d entered the house the previous night, it felt like it had been empty for months. The rooms were cold and damp. The only bed in the house was Bodley’s, so he and Walsh had wrapped themselves in blankets and slept on the lounge furniture. They were both so tired; they would have slept on the floor if there’d been nothing else. Ramsey walked over to the window and looked out. As he did so, his hand brushed the radiator under the window. It was hot. A noise behind him turned his head. Walsh was sitting up, her blanket wrapped around her.

“Heating is on,” he said.

“Thank Christ for that,” replied Walsh. “It was freezing last night.” She dropped the blanket and joined Ramsey at the window.

The window overlooked a large back garden circled by a low wall. Beyond the wall, tree and scrub covered hills faded into the mist. A light rain was falling, swirling around in a gusty wind that whipped the branches of the trees back and forth. It’s May, thought Ramsey; it should be warmer than this. Walsh shivered even though the room was warm. “Brrr, I’m glad I’m in here and not out there.” She yawned. “I could do with a coffee and something to eat.”

“That’s a thought,” replied Ramsey. “I didn’t bring any food, let’s hope Bodley got some.”

Walsh grabbed his arm. “Let’s find out. It shouldn’t be too hard to find the kitchen.”

They left the lounge and walked down a passage, heading for a light streaming from a half open door. Bodley, sitting at a kitchen table, looked up as they entered the room. He nodded to a large refrigerator.

“There’s food in there, make yourselves something to eat. Then you can unload the van.” He stood up and put his plate in a dishwasher. “Clean up after you’ve finished.” He left the room without another word.

Ramsey and Walsh looked at each other. Ramsey shrugged and opened the refrigerator. He stared at the strange assortment of food on the shelves.  Choosing items he recognised, he passed the food to Walsh who put a large pan on the cooker. A few minutes later, the appetising aroma of fried eggs, bacon, sausages and tomatoes filled the room. In a what-the-hell attitude, Ramsey added fried bread to the pan. A large mug of coffee for both of them washed the food down. Walsh sat back in her chair and patted her stomach.

“If we eat like this, I won’t get into my clothes after a couple of weeks.”

Ramsey smiled. “Call it comfort food. After what we’re going through, it’s nice to indulge ourselves. Anyway, we can eat sensibly later on, if we survive the next few weeks.” He finished his drink and put his mug down. “You know, I’m full of admiration how you’re handling this. I’ve had nearly six months to come to terms with it; you’ve only had a day.”

Walsh nodded, her smile fading. “Don’t be fooled. Inside I’m shaking. My stomach turns over every time I see him.” She picked up the mugs. “More coffee?”

Ramsey nodded and sat with his arms on the table watching Walsh make their drinks. The domesticity of the scene was somehow comforting, in stark contrast to their situation. After they had finished their meal, they obeyed Bodley’s instructions and loaded the dishwasher, not wanting to do anything that might anger him. Bodley’s presence hung like a malign shadow over them. After what he had done to Drake, they were determined to tread very carefully round him; they never knew what might set off another of his murderous rages. Walsh closed the door of the dishwasher and twisted the switch. She looked up. “I need a wash and change of clothes; I feel I’ve been wearing these for weeks.”

The collected their bags and went upstairs and found a bathroom. Thankfully, the water was hot, so they both stripped off and cleaned themselves. The wash and change of clothes raised their spirits so they were almost cheerful as they came back downstairs. They dumped their bags in the lounge and looked at each other.

“Well, no use putting it off any longer,” said Ramsey, “let’s get our coats and see what he wants us to do.”

            Bodley was standing by the van looking through the open back doors. He turned as he heard the footsteps of Ramsey and Walsh as their feet scrunched on the gravel drive. He nodded at the interior of the van.

“I want all this unloaded and taken into the house. The first door on the left leads to an empty room, store it in there.”

Ramsey looked at the laser power supplies and cooling systems. “How are we going to get them out? Drake and I could barely lift them into the van.” He looked again. “We’d only loaded one when you attacked Drake. Did you lift the other two into the van on your own?”

Bodley ignored his question. “I have a board with wheels. I’ll help you with the lasers, the rest you can do on your own.”

Ramsey was given a vivid demonstration of the man’s astonishing strength as he and Bodley lifted the power supplies out of the van. They lowered the large boxes onto a trolley and pushed them into the house. After the three boxes were inside the house, Bodley turned to Ramsey.

“I have other things to do; you and the woman unload the rest. Tell me when you’ve finished.”

Walsh felt her hackles rising at being referred to as ‘the woman’. She kept her temper in check and faced Bodley.

“How will we find you?” she asked.

“Call out, I’ll hear you,” he replied. He turned on his heel and walked round the house to the back.

Walsh stared at his retreating back. “He’s an ignorant fucker,” she said quietly.

Ramsey took her by the arms. He stared down at her. “He’s also a dangerous fucker,” he whispered. “Don’t talk like that again; we don’t know how good his hearing is.”

Walsh nodded, her eyes wide. “Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry Duncan. Come on; let’s get the van unloaded. The quicker we’re finished the quicker we can get in out of the cold.”

            Three hours later, they had the van unloaded and all the boxes stored in the house. Ramsey and Walsh retreated to the kitchen and made themselves a coffee. Walsh clutched her mug with both hands.

“I forgot to bring gloves,” she said. “Look, my fingers are blue.”

Ramsey smiled. “It goes with your red nose.”

His smile faded as Bodley entered the kitchen. “Have you finished unloading the van?” he demanded.

Ramsey nodded.

“Why didn’t you call me, I told you to call me when you had finished.”

Ramsey felt a flicker of fear. He strove to keep it from showing in his face.

“We were cold, we had to warm up.”

Bodley stared at him for a moment. “Come with me,” he said abruptly.

They put down their mugs and followed him out of the kitchen to where the boxes were stored. Bodley rested his hands on one of the boxes.

“All these will have to be waterproofed. I’ll show you how to do it. Most of the boxes are lighter than water; they’ll have to have a harness wrapped round them so they can be pulled down to the ship.”

Bodley’s method of waterproofing proved to be surprisingly low tech. They had expected some exotic apparatus; instead, Bodley produced a pile of different sized plastic bags, a vacuum cleaner and a heat sealer. They put the boxes into the bags and sucked the air out with the vacuum cleaner. When the plastic was clinging tightly round the boxes, they sealed the neck of the bag with the heat sealer. Bodley had left them a drum of thin rope, which they tied round the boxes, leaving a loop at one end. It was late afternoon by the time all the boxes were waterproofed to Bodley’s satisfaction. He surveyed the pile of boxes and nodded.

“Good, now follow me. I want to show you where the ship is.”

Walsh looked at Ramsey with dismay. Now was the time Bodley could flip over the edge if all this was his fantasy and there was no ship. Ramsey took her arm and they followed Bodley out of the house. They walked down the drive, past the van. A track ran along the front of the house. Bodley crossed the track and climbed a small bank covered with stunted trees and bushes. The top of the bank extended twenty feet to the edge of a sheer cliff that dropped straight down to the sea. Waves crashed onto jagged rocks at the base of the cliff. In front of them, a flight of narrow steps, cut into the rock, dropped precipitously down the face of the cliff. At the base of the steps, the sea washed over a small rock platform. Ramsey estimated the platform was eighty to a hundred feet below them. The steps gleamed with water from the sea spray. They were only about two feet wide and looked slippery and dangerous as hell. Walsh hung back, clinging to Ramsey’s arm.

“Christ, that looks dodgy. One miss-step and it’s straight down onto those rocks.” She looked at Bodley. “How are we going to get your boxes down there?”

Bodley pointed along the cliff. “There’s a girder set into the cliff top right over the platform. We’ll rig a block and tackle to lower my supplies down to the platform. From there, you can dive them down to the ship.” He kicked a ring set into the top step. “There’s another ring set into the platform, we’ll use them to rig a safety rope down the steps tomorrow.”

Ramsey peered at the water. The foam from the waves hid any view of the sea bed. “I can’t see a thing. Where exactly is the ship?”

Bodley stared at him for a moment as if making up his mind. Finally, he said. “I excavated the sea bed at the base of the cliff and buried the ship. The only part of the hull showing is where the airlock is. You’ll see tomorrow.” He paused. “The rest of today you can spend getting your diving gear ready. I want you kitted up as soon as the block and tackle is rigged. We start diving straight after that.”

He turned and pushed his way back through the trees. With a glance at the waves crashing onto the cliff, Ramsey and Walsh followed him.

With Walsh’s help, Ramsey unpacked the compressor and set it up in a small outhouse in the back garden. Walsh led the exhaust pipe out through a window so the intake would not be contaminated with carbon monoxide. They filled their cylinders and thoroughly checked their equipment. Walsh pressed Ramsey’s mask to his face and told him to inhale through his nose, checking the mask stuck to his face. She took off the mask and stared at Ramsey.

“We’ve got to make sure everything is working perfectly. We haven’t got a safety diver on top to rescue us if anything goes wrong.” She picked up her flippers, weighing them in her hand. “I don’t think we should wear these. Once we put a line down to Bodley’s ship, we can pull ourselves down. I think it would be too dangerous on that platform wearing flippers, you saw yourself how the waves were breaking over it. Half the time it’s under water. We’re going to have a hard enough time handling Bodley’s boxes as it is.”

Ramsey nodded. “You’re the expert. I’ll do whatever you say.”

“I’ll do the first dive,” continued Walsh. “We’ll ask Bodley where we can tie a line. That’s the first priority.”

            The next morning Ramsey and Walsh rigged the pulley block to the girder. Ramsey leaned out over the cliff and ran the rope through  the pulleys. They tied one end of the rope to the girder and fixed a heavy net to the other. Bodley pushed his way through the trees with a large coil of rope over his arm. Walsh rose to meet him. Bodley dropped the coil at her feet.

 “We’ll get the line to the ship rigged first. After that, you can spend the rest of the day moving the boxes to the top of the cliff.” He turned his back on her, staring out to sea.

Walsh turned to Ramsey as he joined her. “He told me there’s a ring next to the airlock,” she said,  “I can tie the rope to that. If we pass it through the ring on the platform, then up to the ring on the top step, it should lead us straight to the ship. We can also use it as a handrail when we’re going up and down the steps.”

Ramsey nodded. “OK,” he said quietly.

They walked back to the house to collect her diving gear. “Can’t put it off any longer,” said Walsh. “I just hope there is a ship down there. If there’s not, who knows what he’ll do?”

“Let’s just hope there is,” said Ramsey thoughtfully. He paused as a new thought came to him. “Hang on, if you’re going down there alone, how will you know where it is?”

 “I won’t be alone. Bodley’s coming with me.”

Ramsey looked back over his shoulder where Bodley’s silhouette could be seen through the thin covering of the trees. “Where’s his diving gear?”

 “I asked him that. He says he doesn’t need any.”

Ramsey’s eyes widened. “What, not even a suit?”

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s his funeral. The water’s only just above freezing. If it kills him, bloody good riddance. It’ll let us of the hook.”

Chapter 32 New Chapter

CHAPTER 32

            Ramsey tied one end of the rope to the ring on the top step and threw the coils down to the platform. Once the rope had settled, Walsh, now fully kitted, slowly descended the steps. Sitting on her bottom, she eased herself down, her air bottle bumping on each step. She clutched the rope laying on the steps beside her in a death grip. Bodley followed her down, walking as if he was descending a staircase at home. He seemed totally oblivious to the sheer drop inches from his right foot. He was dressed in a pair of light trousers and a short-sleeved shirt. His feet were bare. Ramsey shook his head. The man was stark raving mad or he really was an alien. The next few minutes would decide which. Walsh collected the coils of rope and threaded it through the ring. She sat down and put on her flippers. She put in her mouthpiece and nodded at Bodley standing beside her. Clasping the coil of rope, she shuffled to the edge of platform and slid over the edge. The next second, Bodley jumped in after her. The both disappeared from view.

Ramsey watched with rising anxiety at the heaving water. Long minutes passed. Then Walsh’s head broke the surface. Much to Ramsey’s disappointment, Bodley’s head appeared moments later.  They clambered onto the platform and began climbing the steps, Bodley appearing unaffected by his dive into the freezing water. As she reached the top of the steps, Walsh pulled her mask from her forehead and dangled it in her hand. She looked at Ramsey with serious dark eyes.

“There is a ship down there,” she said quietly.

            That evening, Ramsey and Walsh pulled the settee and chairs together to form a makeshift double bed. They ate their evening meal alone in the kitchen and after washing and cleaning their teeth, returned to the lounge. They hadn’t seen Bodley since returning from the cliff. They undressed and lay down under the blankets Bodley had provided. They lay face to face talking quietly. It was the first time they’d had a chance to talk without being overheard.

“What did you see down there?” asked Ramsey.

“Not a lot really,” replied Walsh. I followed Bodley down to the seabed at the base of the cliff face. The ship is virtually invisible, it’s just a weed covered hump about eight to ten feet high, but it’s bloody huge, I could see that much.”

“Ten feet?” queried Ramsey. “I thought he said he’d buried it.”

Walsh shook her head. “When I got down there I could see why so much is above the sea bed. I thought the airlock door would be on top of the hull but it’s not, its set vertically on the side of the hull. The bottom of the door is just above the seabed. If he buried the ship completely he wouldn’t be able to use the airlock. All the weed was scraped away from the door; I think he must have been down there yesterday to do that. He pointed to a ring next to the door and I tied the rope on to it. After that, we surfaced. When I was sitting on the platform taking off my flippers, he just stood next to me, gazing out to sea. He wasn’t even out of breath and the cold water hadn’t affected him one bit.”

Ramsey nodded. “I don’t think any man, however mad he is, could survive water that cold. You were under for over six minutes you know; even your friend at the diving club couldn’t hold his breath for that long.” He paused. “It looks like we’ve got ourselves a real live alien.”

Walsh shivered and clung to Ramsey. “There’s a lot I don’t understand. How come he has the run of this house? Where does he get his power from? We’re miles from anywhere.”

“No alien technology needed for that,” smiled Ramsey. “I haven’t seen it but he must have a generator somewhere. There’s a gas boiler in the kitchen. He’d have gas bottles running the heating and cooking. It’s quite common in rural areas.”

“There’s still the house. It can’t be a coincidence it’s right over where his ship is hidden. And what about the hole where he’s hidden the ship and the steps. You’re not telling me he cut those with a hammer and chisel.”

Ramsey kissed her nose. “We’ll ask him tomorrow. Now were here, he can’t worry about us knowing too much.”

Walsh half sat up, her breasts swaying in the dim light. “Christ, be careful. You said yourself, anything could set him off.”

“I’ll be careful,” replied Ramsey. “Haven’t you noticed; he seems a lot calmer since we got here? He was almost talkative when he was explaining how we were going to lower his boxes down to the platform.”

Walsh sank back down under the blankets and wrapped her arms round him. “You be careful, just the same.”

            To their surprise, Bodley joined them at breakfast. At first, they were wary in his presence, the silence in the kitchen hung over them like a cloud. Finally, Ramsey plucked up courage and spoke to him.

“We’ve been thinking about this house,” he began.

He stopped as Bodley looked up, a frown on his face. “Go on,” he said, putting down his fork.

Ramsey started again. “We were wondering how about this house. How did it come to be here?”

“I bought the land in nineteen ten. I had the house built soon after. It was easy in those days if you had the money. I come up here regularly to upgrade it to more modern standards of comfort.”

“If you do that, you must have had a car,” replied Ramsey. “Why did you need us to hire the van?”

“I have several cars, all under different names,” said Bodley. “You have to show proof of identity to hire a vehicle; I didn’t want the complication of that.”

Emboldened by his talkative attitude, Walsh said, “What about the steps and the hole where you buried the ship, how did you do that. Surely they weren’t here when you crashed.”

Bodley shook his head. “No, I had to cut those myself. I buried the ship soon after I crashed into the sea; the ship had to be hidden. I cut the steps and the platform after I’d had the house built.”

“Cut with what?” asked Ramsey. “It must have taken years.”

“I have tools and equipment you know nothing about,” replied Bodley. “Even so, burying the ship and cutting the steps left my power supplies dangerously low. The first thing we’ll take down are the AGM batteries.”

“I suppose you put the girder in the cliff top too,” said Walsh.

Bodley nodded. “I’ve been planning for this day for nearly a century.”

He picked up his fork and shovelled the last of his breakfast into his mouth. He stood up and looked down at them. “Finish up and get into your diving gear. I want to start as soon as possible.”

He left the kitchen leaving Ramsey and Walsh looking at each other.

“I think you’re right,” said Walsh reflectively. “He does seem more relaxed.”

Ramsey nodded. “That’s the most I’ve heard him speak since we first met him in his flat.” He stood up, collecting their breakfast plates. “Come on, we don’t want anything to spoil his good mood.”

            Ramsey and Walsh stood on the platform surrounded by a pile of batteries. They’d spent the last hour lowering them down to the platform now they had to take them down to the ship. Water swirled around their feet as the waves washed over the platform. Ramsey pushed one of the heavy batteries near the edge of the platform.

“I don’t think we’ll need to pull these down,” he said. “They’ll sink like a stone.”

He looked up as Bodley descended the steps and joined them on the platform.

“I’ll go down first,” he said. “I’ll have to open the airlock by hand, I need to save power. Wait until I come back up then you can follow me down. I’ll help you into the airlock.”

Walsh and Ramsey watched as Bodley jumped into the water. He surfaced five minutes later and nodded to the two on the platform before diving under again. They put in their mouthpieces and holding onto a battery with one hand and the rope with the other, they slid into the water. Even though he was wearing layers of clothing under his dry suit, Ramsey felt the chill of the water bite into him as he submerged. The weight of the battery pulled him rapidly down the guide rope. His deepest dive had been in the ten-foot end of the swimming pool. He was totally unprepared for the pressure of even the modest depth he was diving to. As he slid down the rope, the pain increased in his ears until he felt his head would almost burst. With the battery gripped in one hand and the other on the guide rope, he could not clear his ears and he banged against the hull of the ship totally disorientated. For a second, he could see the dark cavern of the open airlock in front of him, before his arm was violently wrenched as the battery swung downwards, its weight threatening to pull him down to the seabed a few feet below the bottom of the door. Bodley leaned out of the airlock and pulled him in, the battery settling onto the floor with a thump. As Walsh came into view, he leaned out and did the same for her. Ramsey floated in the airlock and clamped his finger and thumb round the compensator of his mask. To his relief as his ears popped, the pain vanished as suddenly as it had arrived. Bodley impatiently motioned them out of the airlock and pointed to the surface. They pulled themselves up the guide rope and collected another pair of batteries. By the time they’d taken all the batteries down to the airlock, Ramsey and Walsh were chilled to the bone. The batteries covered most of the floor, stacked two or three high in places. They floated above them wondering what Bodley would do next.

Bodley turned a wheel set into the inner wall of the airlock. The outer door slowly slid across the opening, shutting out the dim light outside. Ramsey felt the water swirling about him as he sensed Bodley moving inside the lock. A small red light came on bathing them in a soft glow. Ramsey heard a bubbling hissing as the water level slowly sank down, lowering them gently to the floor. Within a few minutes, only a few puddles remained on the floor. Bodley pointed at their mouthpieces.

“You can take these off now; the air is quite breathable for your kind.” He sloshed the puddles at his feet. “This lock was designed to pump air back into the ship. I had to make a great deal of modifications so it would pump the water out.” He pointed to a couple of plastic buckets hanging upside down in a net on the wall. “You’ll find sponges inside them, mop up as much water as you can, I don’t want sea water getting inside the ship.”

Ramsey and Walsh bent to their task. When the floor was mopped dry, Ramsey and Walsh turned to Bodley. Ramsey held up his nearly full bucket of water.

“What do we do with them?” he asked.

“Leave them on the floor of the airlock,” replied Bodley. “Before we can go back out the inner door must be closed and the lock filled with water. Once I close the inner door, you can empty the buckets on the floor and stow them in the nets. Make sure the sponges are secure and the buckets are upside down.”

Ramsey nodded, working out the sequence in his head. If the buckets were the right side up, they’d be full of water the next time they emptied the airlock of water. He shrugged and faced the inner door as Bodley turned a wheel set in its centre. There was a hissing and Ramsey felt his ears pop as the pressure equalised between the airlock and the inside of the ship. Bodley pushed gently and the door swung open. He turned his head. “Pick up a battery each, I’ll show you where to stow them.”

Ramsey hefted a battery trying to gauge the weight. He looked up at Bodley. “Debbie will never carry one of these on her own; they must weigh over seventy pounds. We’ll have to carry one between us.”

Bodley stared at him, his eyes narrowing. He nodded. “Very well do it your way. As long as you get them down inside I don’t care how you do it. Now follow me.”

 Ramsey and Walsh looped their hands in the cord round the battery and looked at each other with raised eyebrows. They lifted the battery, trying to ignore their protesting shoulder muscles. Stepping over the airlock sill, they followed Bodley into the ship.

Chapter 33 New Chapter

CHAPTER 33

D C I Painter frowned as he listened to the voice in his ear. “Are you certain he’s absent, he’s not out on a case?” He listened for a moment longer and put the phone back in its cradle. After a moments thought, he picked up the phone again.  Half an hour later, he was in the Chief Constable’s office.

“Ramsey’s gone missing,” he said.

Birdsell frowned. “You’re sure of this?” he asked.

Painter nodded. “He wasn’t in yesterday but no-one gave it much thought, they assumed he was out on a case. When he didn’t come in today, one of the detectives he was working with asked around. When he couldn’t get a satisfactory answer, he called me. No one has seen him. I called his house before coming to you, there’s no answer.”

Birdsell thought for a moment. “All right, we’ll have to send someone round there, for all we know, he could be sick in bed.”

Painter nodded. “That was going to be my next step. I just wanted you to be aware of what is going on.”

Birdsell rubbed his eyes. “First Drake and now this. OK Ed, keep me informed.”

Painter nodded and left the room.

            PC Mike Henderson drove slowly down the street checking house numbers. He stopped and climbed out of his car. He looked up at the house, nodding to himself, this was the right house. He pushed open the garden gate and walked to the front door. When a minute of persistent ringing of the doorbell gained no reply, he tried another button. He sighed. No reply from that one either. He tried another and was rewarded with a window opening from one of the upper rooms. A woman leaned out, looking down at him.

“Yes?”

Henderson craned his neck, looking up at her. “I’m trying to contact Mr. Ramsey, do you know if he’s in?”

The woman frowned. “He’s a policeman like you isn’t he?”

Henderson nodded.

The woman shook her head. “I haven’t seen him all day.” She paused. “Not for a couple of days in fact”

“Could you let me in,” asked Henderson, “I’d like to try his front door.”

The woman nodded. “Be down in a sec, hold on.” She disappeared from view and the window slammed shut. She was down at the front door minutes later. Henderson took off his hat as she ushered him into the hall.

 “Do you think he’s ill?” asked the woman, as they climbed the stairs.

Henderson shrugged. “That’s what I’m here to find out.”

He knocked and rang on Ramsey’s door. He squatted down and looked through the letterbox. All he could see was a short hall with doors leading off, all closed. He called through the opening. The flat had the dull air of desertion; Henderson was sure there was no one inside. He stood up and walked back down the stairs, followed by the woman.

“Do you think he’s all right?” she asked. “I don’t know him all that well, what with the odd hours he has to work, but he seems a nice enough young man.”

Henderson gave a non-committal shrug. As he was leaving the house, a thought struck him. He turned back to the woman.

“Do you happen to know where he keeps his car?”

The woman thought for a moment. “I’ve seen it about, it’s a blue one. Sometimes he parks it out the front but most times he leaves it round the back of the house, there’s parking places there.”

Henderson thanked the woman and left her standing by the front door. He walked a few yards to a side alley and made his way to the back of the house. What was once the back garden was now covered in concrete and marked out with parking places. A couple of motor bikes half hidden under rain covers were the only occupants. Henderson returned to his car. Half an hour later, he was in Painter’s office.

“No sign of him at his flat sir and his car is missing,” he finished.

Painter nodded tiredly. “Right, thank you can go now.”

When Henderson had left the room, Painter reached for his phone.

            Painter knocked on Birdsell’s door and went in, a folder under his arm. Once he was seated, Birdsell put his pen to one side and looked up.

“Well?”

“He’s definitely missing, he’s not at his flat and his car’s gone.”

“He gave no indication he’d be absent?”

Painter shook his head. “I’ve asked around. He said nothing to anybody.” He indicated the folder on his lap. “His absence coming on top of all this is too much. This is a preliminary report from the investigating officers. They’re convinced Ramsey and Drake’s work started falling off some time after the underpass incident. I might add their investigation on that case has been singularly unsuccessful. Their work really nosed dived after Drake’s daughter died.  Something is going on between Ramsey and Drake, Ramsey’s disappearance only adds to my conviction that we have a real problem on our hands.”

Birdsell slapped his hands on his desk. “Nothing for it then, we’ll have to get a warrant to enter his flat. Search the place from top to bottom; I want to know where he’s gone and why he went there.”

Painter waited patiently as the police locksmith worked on Ramsey’s front door. The locksmith stood back as the door swung open.

“Will you be needing me anymore?” he asked.

Painter paused at the entrance to the flat. “Stick around. There may be locked rooms or cupboards inside. We’ll call you if we need you.”

The locksmith nodded and went outside. He sat on the porch step and lit a cigarette. He pursed his lips and blew a smoke ring that drifted slowly across the front garden before being torn to pieces by the wind.

            Inside the flat, a team of detectives slowly worked their way through the rooms. Cupboards were opened, their contents removed and noted. The sugar bowl, the tea caddy and a coffee jar were upended and the contents sifted. The mattress was removed from the bed and upturned. Within an hour, the flat looked like a whirlwind has passed through it. Next to the telephone, a small book caught their attention. One of the detectives passed it to Painter. He put on his glasses and leafed through the pages. He removed his glasses and looked up.

“It’s mostly family. We’ll have to call all of these numbers.” He passed the book to Steve Abbot. “Go back to the station and make a start, will you.” He paused, “Be discreet.”

Abbot nodded, took the book and left the flat. When Painter returned to the station, Abbot had finished his calls. Painter sat down next to him.

“Any luck?”

Abbot shook his head. “He visited his parents two weeks ago, so they weren’t expecting him anyway. He doesn’t see his mates at any fixed time, so they were no help. One of the numbers was the local sports centre. When I called them, they said yesterday he should have been coaching their karate class; they were quite put out when he didn’t turn up. Very reliable usually, they said. The other odd thing was when I tried to contact his girlfriend, Debbie Walsh. There was no answer from her home, so I tried another number under her name. It was the university. They said she hasn’t been in for a couple of days. They can’t contact her either.”

Painter’s head came up. “A couple of days. So she’s been missing for the same time as Ramsey.”

Abbot nodded. “Do you think they’ve run off together?”

Painter frowned. “Why should they do that? Hmm, go to the university; find out what you can. Meanwhile, I’ll send someone round to her address.”

            Later that afternoon, Painter held a meeting in the briefing room.  On the table sat box files of every piece of paper they could find in Ramsey’s flat.

Painter looked around.

“Right, let’s have your reports.

Abbot consulted his notebook.

“I went to the ICT department first. It’s a wooden building in the university grounds. None of the students knew where she was. They directed me to the head of department. He had no idea where Walsh is either. She hasn’t phoned in sick and she’d given no advance warning she wouldn’t be attending her students. They’d phoned her home but couldn’t get any answer. The chap I spoke to was quite worried. He said it was most unlike her, they said up to now she’s been very reliable.”

A detective sitting next to Abbot raised his hand.

“I went round to her house. I rang the bell for five minutes but I couldn’t get any reply. Then I knocked up her neighbours. No one knew anything except the girl who lives in the flat opposite to Walsh’s. She told me Walsh had said she was going to be away for a few days and asked her to feed her cat. Walsh didn’t say where she was going.” He put down his notes, then looked up. “Oh, Walsh’s car is still parked outside her house.”

Painter looked at Abbot. “You’re sure she didn’t say anything to her department head about being absent.”

Abbot firmly shook his head. “Nope, nothing.”

“All right, let’s sum up what we have,” said Painter. “Ramsey is missing so is Walsh. His car is missing, Walsh’s isn’t.  It could be they both went off in his car. I want the last two days of CCTV tapes collected from all the cameras round the town. If we’re lucky, his car might show up on one of them. It seems on the face of it, Walsh is definitely tied in with Ramsey’s disappearance. He’s been seeing her for about four or five months and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s disappeared at the same time as him. Just like Ramsey, she gave no warning she’d be away from work. Her neighbour seems to be the only person she told she’d be away.”

A hand went up from a detective sitting at the back of the room. “Do you think they could have been abducted?” He leaned forward in his chair. “That could be the reason they didn’t give advance warning they’d be away from work.”

Painter shook his head. “Walsh asked her neighbour to feed her cat. That means she knew she was going away. That rules out abduction in my mind. The more I think about it, the surer I am they’ve gone off together. Nothing wrong with that if they’d told people in advance. The fact they’ve said nothing convinces me they could have had something to hide, something they didn’t want anyone else knowing about.”

He nodded at the box files. “Most of them are household bills and letters from his parents. Except these.” He held up a small bunch of papers. “These notes are a list of diving equipment. We know Ramsey and Drake bought several thousand pounds worth of kit some time ago. As far as I know, they’ve told no-one why they needed such equipment.” He looked around the room. “Did anyone know about it?”

The officers in the room shook their heads. Painter threw the papers back into a box. He paused for a moment. “What’s the latest on DI Drake, is he well enough to be interviewed?”

“How could he have anything to do with Ramsey’s disappearance, he’s in hospital with a heart attack,” said a detective.

“He was Ramsey’s senior officer, they worked together. He might know something,” replied Painter. “He’s the closest person to Ramsey that we can talk to at the moment, discounting his family.” He turned to Abbot. “You’ve worked with him haven’t you?”

Abbot nodded. “Me and Lisa Marley. We worked with him and Ramsey on the underpass case. Do you want us to visit him?”

Painter shook his head. “No, I’ll go myself. All right, off you go, you know what to do. Search Ramsey’s flat again, we might have missed something. We’ve a warrant to look over Walsh’s flat; two of you get over there. Contact her family, find out who her friends are and interview them. Talk to the neighbour again, she might remember something. Go back to the University and talk to her students, she might have said something to them.” He pointed to the box files. “I want every piece of paper in those boxes examined. At the moment, it’s all we’ve got to work on.”

As the room emptied, Painter thought of the report he’d received from the investigation into Drake and Ramsey’s behaviour. The report stated quite firmly that in their opinion, their behaviour started changing after the incident in the underpass. He frowned, trying to think what connection there could be in a five month old case and Ramsey’s vanishing act.

            Painter walked into the small room where Drake lay. He’d been moved from intensive care and was half sitting up in bed. Painter noticed the numbers on a heart monitor beside Drake’s bed suddenly increase as Drake caught sight of him. He sat down on a chair next to the bed.

“How are you Phil?” he asked.

Drake shrugged. “Not bad, I’ve been better. This came as a bit of a shock.”

Painter nodded. “Tell me about it. We couldn’t believe it when we heard the news. What do the doctors say?”

“You know, the usual bollocks. I’ve been very lucky, blah, blah. They reckon I’ll be back on my feet in a couple of weeks. I won’t be coming back to work for a time though.”

“No need to worry about that,” reassured Painter. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed with relief that Drake’s heart rate had decreased from its sudden jump. He cleared his throat. “Phil, this is not only a social visit. Ramsey’s gone missing; do you know anything about it?”

Drake’s heart rate shot up again, the figures on the monitor changing rapidly. He took a deep breath and slowly shook his head. “Can’t say I can, when did he go?”

“Couple of days ago.”

Drake shook his head again. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” The numbers on the monitor steadily climbed.

Painter, alarmed at the sudden change, backed off. He slapped his knees and stood up. “OK, Phil, I’ll leave you in peace. I might call back in a few days. A few of the lads at the station would like to see you, are you up to it?”

Drake nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’d be pleased to see them. Give it a couple of days; let me get my strength back.”

Painter nodded. “Right, see you later.”

Drake lifted his hand and waved weakly.

Painter walked slowly out of the hospital, deep in thought. Drake’s reaction when he’d asked about Ramsey was as good as a lie detector. His heart rate had jumped when he’d first walked in, but as Painter had asked innocuous questions about his health, they’d settled back. The sudden change when Ramsey’s name was mentioned, convinced Painter Drake knew more that he was letting on. What to do now? More vigorous questioning was out; it might give the poor bugger another heart attack. As Painter climbed into his car, he made up his mind. If he couldn’t get Drake to talk, maybe his wife would know something.

Chapter 34 New Chapter

                                                   CHAPTER 34

            Painter rung the bell on Drake’s front door and stood patiently waiting. The door opened and Drake’s wife stood in the doorway. Her eyes widened as she recognised her visitor.

“Hello Elaine, is this a bad time?” asked Painter.

“No, no, please come in,” she replied. She stepped to one side and ushered Painter inside.

Painter followed her into the lounge where a young girl was sitting on the settee drinking from a large mug.

“This must be Sarah,” said Painter.

Elaine nodded. “Sarah, say hello to daddy’s boss.”

Sarah looked up and smiled at Painter. “He’s in hospital,” she said quietly.

“I know,” replied Painter. “I came to see how he is.”

“Come on, finish your drink, it’s time for bed,” said Elaine.

Sarah nodded and put her mug down on the coffee table. She kissed her mother and left the room.

“How’s she taking it?” asked Painter.

“What, the loss of her sister or her father’s heart attack?” replied Elaine tiredly.

Painter paused, slightly taken aback at her tone. “I did mean Phil’s heart attack. I’m sorry, coming so soon after Rachel’s death, this must seem too much.”

Elaine nodded.

“I visited him this afternoon,” said Painter, trying to lighten the mood. “I had a chat with the doctor afterwards. They say he’ll make a full recovery.”

Elaine sat down, gesturing to Painter to do the same. “That’s what they told me.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He’ll never be the same again though. Even when he’s fit, I don’t think he can go back to his old job.”

“Don’t worry about that,” soothed Painter. “We’ll find him a desk job, something he can handle without putting his heath at risk.”

“He’d hate that,” replied Elaine. “Still, he’ll have to accept it. I don’t want to loose anymore of my family.”

“He’ll get plenty of support from his colleagues,” said Painter. “Quite a few of them want to visit him in hospital.” He paused. “Do you know if Duncan Ramsey has been to seen him?” he added casually.

Elaine jumped at the mention of Ramsey’s name. “Duncan, why no, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“Well, the thing is, we can’t find him, he’s missing. He was Phil’s partner; I thought he might have called in at the hospital or round here. Just to see how Phil is.”

Elaine’s hands fluttered in her lap. “Missing?”

Painter nodded. “He’s been gone for a couple of days now. His girlfriend is missing too.”

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” Elaine stood up suddenly. “I think you had better leave now. I have to see to Sarah.”

Painter stayed where he was. “Elaine, if you know something, please tell me what it is.”

Elaine shook her head violently. “No, no, I don’t know anything, please leave.”

Painter persisted. “Elaine, a friend of your husband and his girlfriend have been missing for over two days now. About the time Phil had his attack. I think you know why.”

Elaine sat down with a thump on her chair. She stared at Painter, her face hardening. “There are no witnesses to hear what I’m going to say. If you repeat it, I’ll deny I ever said anything.” She leaned forwards in her chair, her finger stabbing towards Painter. “Leave it,” she said vehemently.  “If you don’t want to endanger my husbands life and Duncan and his girlfriend, you’ll leave it alone.”

Painter shook his head slowly. “Elaine, you know I can’t do that. It’ll be better if you tell me what you know as a friend of your husband. I don’t want to make this an official investigation but I will if I have to.”

“Please,” she whispered. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Tell me,” said Painter gently, sensing the first cracks in her defiance.

 “They could die if you interfere.”

“Interfere with what?” probed Painter quietly, encouraged by her changing attitude.

Elaine shook her head. “I can’t tell you,” she said firmly, her defiance returning.

Painter sighed, the softly softly approach was not going to work. He changed tack, hardening his voice. “Not good enough Mrs. Drake,” he said firmly. “I have to tell you, I’ve been worried about Ramsey and your husband for some time. Now that Ramsey’s vanished, I’m afraid I can’t afford to pussyfoot around. If I have to, I’ll get a warrant and we’ll go over this house like a swarm of ants. I’d like to avoid that if I can, but believe me I won’t hesitate if you don’t co-operate.”

Elaine Drake sat back in her chair, stunned at the sudden change in Painter’s tone of voice. His dropping of her Christian name, referring to her as Mr. Drake, made it brutally clear to her that the visit had suddenly changed from a social to an official one. She shook her head from side to side, as if denying what he wanted from her.

“He’ll kill them all if he finds out,” she whispered.

“Who will kill who?” asked Painter, leaning forwards in his chair.

Elaine stared him in the face. “My husband, Duncan and his girlfriend. My god, I know he’s capable, he’s already killed Rachel.”

Painter sat bolt upright. “What?”

Elaine nodded. “Rachel’s death wasn’t an accident.” With that admission, the floodgates opened. Hesitantly at first, then with greater self-possession, she recounted the events of the last few months to the incredulous Painter. When she’d finished she collapsed back in her chair. The consequences of her revelations were frightening her. She felt drained, but relieved that someone in authority knew what she and her family were going through.

Painter was silent for a moment. He looked up. “Elaine, that’s the most unbelievable story I’ve ever heard.”

She shrugged. “Believe it or not, it’s the truth.”

“Phil definitely said it was the same person who attacked the men in the underpass.”

Elaine nodded tiredly.

Drake drew in a deep breath. “Can you prove any of this, have you any hard evidence?”

Elaine got up and walked over to the sideboard. She took out the mini recorder and dropped it into Painter’s lap.

“Listen to that, then tell me I’m making it up,” she said sharply.

Painter weighed the recorder in his hand. “What’s on it Elaine?”

“Bodley giving Phil and Duncan instructions. Phil knew how fantastic the story sounded. He knew he’d never be believed. He made those recordings so that when it was all over, he’d be able to prove what had happened.”

Painter put the recorder in his pocket and stood up.

“I’ll go now. I’ll take it with me, all right?”

Elaine nodded. “Yes, yes, take it. I don’t want to hear that man’s voice again.” Painter nodded slowly. “Yes, I can imagine. This is too big for me to handle on my own. I’ll be back tomorrow; we’ll talk again, after I’ve spoken to some senior officers.”

Elaine’s eyes widened. “For God’s sake be careful. Phil hated Bodley. My Christ, I’d never seen him hate anyone so much. But more than that, he was frightened stiff of him.  After Rachel died he realised he was capable of anything.”

“Elaine, if what you’ve told me is true, I’m really sorry for what happened to Rachel. I’ll do my damnedest to make sure nothing else happens to your family.”

Elaine walked with him to the front door.

Painter paused in the doorway. “I meant what I said. Please believe me, you family will be safe from now on.”

He turned on his heel and walked out into the night.

            The following morning, Painter stood quietly talking to the doctor in charge of Drake.

“I’ve got to interview him and I don’t want him to have another heart attack. If he gets too agitated, is there anything you can do to calm him down?”

The doctor frowned. “You could cut short your visit and walk away. I don’t like the idea of my patients being upset.”

Painter shook his head. “Sorry, that’s not an option.”

“You can’t put it off for a few more days?”

“No, it’s vital I talk to him now.”

The doctor sighed. “All right, I’ll be just outside the room. If his heart monitor shows too high a reading, I’ll give him a sedative. I don’t like it though.”

Painter nodded and walked into the room, Drake’s eyes followed him as he walked across the floor. Painter sat down next to the bed and leaned forwards.

“How are you Phil?”

Drake lifted his eyebrows. “Not so bad. He gave a slight smile. “Two visits in two days, I’m honoured.”

Painter cleared his throat.

“Phil, this is not a social visit. We know why Ramsey’s gone missing, Elaine’s told us everything. I was up half of last night with the chief constable listening to the recordings you made. I want you to tell me everything you know. There must be things you didn’t tell Elaine.”

Drake squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh, Jesus,” he whispered. He moved fitfully on the bed, sweat springing out on his forehead.

Painter lent forward and put his hand on Drake’s arm. “Listen Phil, Elaine’s told us what this man can do, if the story’s true, we won’t make a move until we’re sure none of you will be harmed.”

Drake rubbed his eyes. “Oh, Christ, you don’t know the half of it. I believe Bodley’s the most dangerous man on earth; God knows what he’s capable of.”

“Tell us Phil, let us help you. I promise we won’t do anything that could put you or your family at risk.”

The doctor came into the room. “Everything all right?” he asked, looking at the monitor.

Drake waved him away. “I’m fine thanks. No need for you to hover over me.”

The doctor nodded and with a frosty glance at Painter, left the room.

Drake looked at Painter, a smile playing around his lips. “Afraid I’d die on you before I could answer your questions?”

Painter nodded. “Something like that. The last time I mentioned Ramsey’s disappearance, your heart rate shot off the clock. We really need to catch this man Phil, are you going to help us?”

Drake sighed. “OK, what do you want to know?”

“Start at the beginning, tell me everything. We need to fill in the gaps in Elaine’s story.”

At the end of half an hour, Drake sank back on his pillow, exhausted.

“That’s about it, do you believe me?”

Painter nodded. “Unless you and Elaine are the worlds most accomplished liars, I have to believe you.” He frowned as a thought came to him. “Did you ever find out where he was going to take you and Ramsey?”

Drake nodded. “Somewhere in the north of Scotland, he never said exactly where.” His face brightened as a memory surfaced.  “Look in my car, behind the driver’s sun visor. I made a note of the place.”

“You know the location?”

“No, just the name. I saw a map book lying on a pile of crates when we were loading the van. There was a piece of paper sticking out between the pages with a route written out. I only had time to note the last name on the list. I wanted to leave some clue where we were going in case we didn’t come back.”

“That’ll do,” said Painter with satisfaction. “We can soon work out where they’ve gone.”

He rose to his feet. “I’ll have to leave you now. This is too big for us to handle on our own. Birdsell’s bringing in some heavy guns. Once they’ve heard the recordings, I’d like to take them to your house so they can hear it from Elaine if you don’t mind. Her account matches yours, there’s no need to put you through it again.” He paused, looking down at Drake. “Do you mind us talking to Elaine?  This place is a bit too public for a conference.”

Drake waved his hand. “No, I don’t mind. Elaine’s a big girl; she can handle it. Who’ll be coming, government people?”

Painter nodded. “Probably. There’ll be some scientists as well to evaluate the evidence.”

Drake half sat up in bed grabbing Painter’s sleeve. “Make sure they understand what Elaine is telling them, don’t let them dismiss it as a story from a hysterical woman. We’ve both had first hand experience how dangerous this man is. If you go after him, for Christ’s sake be careful. I don’t think you really believe what this man can do. If he recognises you as police and thinks you’re threatening him, he’ll cut you down just by looking at you.”

“Oh we’ll be careful all right,” replied Painter. “The chief was on the phone for over an hour last night to some very important people. Once he’d convinced them it wasn’t a hoax, this became top priority. The fact that it’s tied in with the strange injuries to those men in the underpass lends weight to the story. Ever since those injuries came to light, they’ve been waiting for some explanation. Now it looks like we’ve found it. There’s some very high up people really excited by this, they won’t want any cock-ups.”

Drake sunk back on his pillow, his face covered in sweat.

“Yeah, remember what happened to those blokes in the underpass. Keep them in mind all the time. What happened to them could happen to you.” He paused, his eyes staring at Painter. “And my family. I’m relying on you Ed, keep them safe.”

Chapter 35 New Chapter

CHAPTER 35

Duncan Ramsey stepped through the airlock into the ship, closely followed by Debbie Walsh. The interior of the ship was almost in darkness, the only illumination coming from small pinpoints of light set in the ceiling. The air felt damp, with an acrid tang that stung his nostrils. The airlock opened onto a narrow corridor, the walls studded with strange, half-seen shapes that jutted out from the walls. There was none of the clean, futuristic fittings he’d half expected from the science fiction films he’d seen. The cramped, cluttered interior reminded him more of a First World War submarine. The dim light added to the claustrophobic atmosphere. He jumped as the airlock door clanged shut behind him. Bodley pushed passed them.

“Take off your breathing gear and leave it here, you won’t need it for some time.”

Ramsey and Walsh piled their bottles and weight belts on the floor under Bodley’s watchful gaze.

“Pick up the battery and follow me.”

Ramsey looked at the airlock door. “Why did you shut it, you’ve only got to open it again to pick up more batteries.”

“Safety,” snapped Bodley. “If the outer lock failed, the ship would flood. Now shut up and follow me.”

They walked along the corridor, carrying the battery between them. Bodley hadn’t waited for them; he was already an indistinct shape in the shadows half way down the corridor. At the end of the corridor, they came to a flight of metal stairs. They struggled to lower the heavy battery, bumping it down the steps. At the bottom of the stairs, they reached a small platform where more corridors branched off, their far ends disappearing into the gloom. After resting for a moment, they followed Bodley down a second flight.  Ramsey was suddenly jolted by the feeling he recognised his surroundings. The idea startled him. How the hell could he recognise this place, the idea was ridiculous. As he worried on the thought, he suddenly remembered where the memory came from. Some years earlier, he’d been working with customs officers searching a large passenger liner. In the course of his investigation, his search had taken him into the engine room. The metal stairs with their galleries filled with machinery were strikingly similar to Bodley’s ship. As they descended deeper into the gloom, he realised just how big the ship was. The two flights of stairs had taken them down at least thirty feet, how much further did they have to carry the battery? They finally reached the bottom of the second flight and after a short walk down yet another corridor, emerged into a dimly lit room filled with unidentifiable machinery.  Bodley indicated they should put the battery down and led them back up the stairs.  At the airlock, he opened the door and stood to one side as they lifted out another battery. He made no move to help them. After three hours hard work, they’d carried all the batteries down to the room. Ramsey and Walsh sank to the floor, exhausted. Bodley had given them no time to take off their dry suits; they were burning hot, the sweat running down their faces, stinging their eyes. They watched with blank expressions as Bodley pushed the batteries about the floor, arranging them next to heavy cables hanging from the wall. In the dim light, they could not see clearly what he was doing but after he’d been working for half an hour, the lights suddenly brightened.

The lights revealed their surroundings. They were in a circular room, with a metal cylinder occupying most of the space in the centre. Its top was out of sight, disappearing through the ceiling of the room. The surface of the cylinder was covered with knobs and bulges of different shapes and colours. The gap between the cylinder and the walls of the room, Ramsey guessed, was about six feet, narrowing down to three where more strange shapes jutted from the walls. Bodley walked round the cylinder, indicating them to follow him. They rose tiredly to their feet. When they caught up with Bodley, he was looking at a large oval panel set into the cylinder. The wall opposite looked half melted, with hardened runnels of metal tracing a path down to the floor.

He rested his fingertips on the metal.

“This is where we’ll be working, tomorrow; we’ll bring the rest of the boxes down. Then the real work starts.”

Walsh looked at the panel. “What happened here?” she asked.

Bodley turned to look at her. “We had trouble with the pinch. My crew were down here trying to fix it. They’d removed this panel and the three working inside were killed instantly when it blew. The three on the outside died a few hours later. I had just enough power left to control my descent into a survivable crash.” He shook his head and for the first time, Ramsey felt a twinge of sorrow for the strange being. His sympathy quickly evaporated as the thought of Drake’s daughter surfaced in his mind. He jumped as Bodley barked at them.

“Enough talk. Back to the airlock. You have a lot to do tomorrow.”

            Ramsey and Walsh climbed wearily out of the sea onto the platform and sat for a moment gathering their strength. Ramsey was surprised how the time had passed, it was nearly dusk. Walsh looked up the steps cut into the cliff face.

“I don’t know if I’m going to get up there,” she said.

Ramsey pulled his mask down round his neck. “It’s that or sleep here tonight.” He held out his hand. “Come on Deb, I’ll help.”

Bodley climbed onto the platform beside them and without a word, started up the steps. The two slowly followed him. Working all day in the dry suits had left them hot and sticky. As soon as they were inside the house, they stripped of the suits and threw their clothes on the floor. Walsh wrinkled her nose.

“I stink,” she said. She looked at the jumble of clothes. “I think I’ll keep those for working in, I haven’t enough spare clothes to change every day.” She stretched.  “I’m for a shower.”

Ramsey stood behind her and encircled her in his arms. He pressed himself against her, moulding her body to him. “You’d better put on your dressing gown. Even if Bodley is an alien, he might get lascivious thoughts if he saw you like that.”

She turned in his arms until she was facing him. “Urgh, the thought makes my flesh creep.” She kissed him on the nose. “Come on, shower.”

Later that evening after they had eaten their evening meal, they lay face to face on their makeshift bed.

“Did you understand what he was talking about down there?” whispered Walsh.

“When? He hardly said a word except to order us about,” replied Ramsey.

“Remember when he showed us that panel. On the wall opposite it looked as if there’d been some sort of explosion. The metal was half melted.”

“Yeees,” said Ramsey slowly.

Walsh half sat up. “He said he’d crashed because of trouble with his pinch. Duncan, do you realise the significance of that?”

Ramsey shook his head. “No idea, Deb. At the time I was too tired to care. I don’t think I took much notice of what he was saying.”

Walsh flopped back down. “I’m certain he was talking about a magnetic pinch. Fusion Duncan. I think he’s got a fusion reactor in that ship.”

Ramsey smiled at her enthusiasm. “Is that good then?”

“Good!” she exclaimed. “Scientists all over the world have been trying to make a fusion reactor work for the last thirty years. If Bodley’s got one in his ship, it proves it can be done.”

“So how far have our lot got then?” asked Ramsey.

Walsh frowned. “Not very. The secret is to get more power out than it takes to start the reaction and then keep it going. They’ve managed it for a few microseconds but that’s it. Haven’t you heard of JET?”

Ramsey slowly nodded. “I think so, in a vague sort of way.”

“It’s an acronym for the Joint European Torus.  It’s an experimental fusion reactor somewhere near Cambridge I think. The thing is big as a block of flats. That thing in Bodley’s ship is tiny in comparison.”

“If it is a fusion reactor,” stated Ramsey.

Walsh thumped him on his chest. “I’ll bet my bottom dollar it is.” She sighed. “What an opportunity, think what we might learn.”

Ramsey held her arm. “Don’t get carried away. He might not let us learn anything. And even if we did, I’m scared he might not let us live to tell anyone.”

Walsh gasped. “You think he might kill us when the work is finished?”

Ramsey shrugged. “I don’t know. Phil and I talked it over lots of times, trying to second guess what Bodley might do. Phil thought once the work was finished, Bodley would leave. He wouldn’t care what we did; he’d be out of reach. I’m not so sure. He’s a vindictive, single-minded bastard. Look what he did to Phil’s daughter. That was just to keep us in line”

“Christ, I’m going to have nightmares now,” replied Walsh. She snuggled up to Ramsey. “Cuddle me.”

Ramsey wrapped his arms around her and slowly they fell into a troubled sleep.

            The next day, they lowered the heavy lasers with their power plants down to the ship. Moving them from the house to the top of the cliff was back breaking work, even with a block and tackle to help pull the boxes up the bank to the cliff top. Because of the weight, they had to rig extra lines to guide the cumbersome boxes into the airlock. By the time evening came, the lasers were inside the ship but they’d moved less than half the boxes stacked in the front room of the house. They dragged themselves up the steps and after a quick wash and meal, fell into bed. They were asleep in minutes. The next morning, they were awoken by Bodley. Ramsey raised his head from the pillow and blearily looked up at the face glaring down at him.

“Get up,” he snapped. “What’s the matter with you, you were up earlier than this yesterday.”

“We’re bloody tired, that’s why,” replied Ramsey. “You’ve been working us like dogs for two days; it’s catching up with us.”

“Get up, now. No excuses. You’ve work to do. I want you dressed and ready in half an hour.” He turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Ramsey dragged himself out of bed, stretching to ease his aching back.  As they dressed, he was shocked at the change in Walsh. Her face was pale and drawn. The excitement at her discovery of Bodley’s power source had faded, she was weary and the worry of what Bodley might do when the ship was repaired was nagging away at her. He gathered her into his arms and held her close.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

She nodded and looked up at him. She gave him a brief smile. “I’m OK, just tired that’s all.” She pulled out of his arms. “Come on, we’ve only twenty minutes to get our breakfast.”

            By late afternoon, they’d taken the remaining boxes down to the ship and stored them in the lower room. Now they had power from the new batteries, Bodley used a small elevator to lower the lasers rather than risk winching them down the stairs. Ramsey and Walsh stood out of the way as Bodley dragged a large box from a cavity in the wall. As it came clear, Ramsey could see it was a large truck battery.

“There’s seven more in there,” said Bodley. “They’ve all got to be taken out and pushed out of the airlock. You’ll have to pull them up to the airlock level; I can’t afford the power loss to use the elevator.”

Ramsey was appalled at the prospect. “Can’t we just leave them there,” he said.

Bodley shook his head. “No, I need the space for other things. I bought these over the years to supplement the ships batteries and keep the ship on minimum power. I had to dump them every year or so when they ran down and replace them with charged ones. Now I’ve got the new batteries I don’t need them.  You and the girl get on with dumping them; I’ve got work to do.”

Ramsey nodded at the old batteries. “Why not recharge those.”

Bodley kicked the battery with his foot. “I’d have to take them back up to the house to do that. Anyway, they’re no good for permanent use. These new batteries can be stored in any position, even upside down, that’s why I chose them. Now get to work.”

“What about the airlock? queried Ramsey.

Bodley stared at him. “Don’t play games with me Ramsey. I’ve seen you watching me when I’ve worked the controls.” He thrust his head forward, his expression hardening. “You know how to work it, don’t you?” The last sentence was hissed at Ramsey between clenched teeth.

Ramsey backed off and held up his hands. “OK, OK, yes, I know how to work it. I just didn’t think you’d want us playing with it in case we flood the ship.”

“It’s fail safe,” said Bodley. “You can’t open the inner door if the outer one is open.” He paused and looked squarely at Ramsey. “Just because you’ll be out of my sight, don’t think I can’t reach you. I’ll know exactly what you’re doing. Just keep that in mind if you’re tempted to try to escape. Now get on with it. Leave the batteries in the airlock and you can dump them when we finish this evening.”

Ramsey nodded and together with Walsh, he dragged the heavy battery to the foot of the stairs.

By the time they’d stacked the old batteries in the airlock, their muscles were shrieking in protest. They rejoined Bodley and slumped down on the floor.  He looked them over before speaking, contempt dripping from his words.

“Get up, there’s more work to do.”

They painfully climbed to their feet and stood waiting. While they had been dumping the batteries they could see Bodley had unwrapped and opened a number of the boxes. He handed each of them a powerful lamp and indicated to follow him. Under his direction, they shone their lamps on the panel. To Ramsey’s surprise, Bodley took a perfectly ordinary power screwdriver and proceeded to undo a series of screws round the panel.

“Hold out your hand,” he commanded.

Bodley dropped a screw into Ramsey’s outstretched hand. Ramsey studied it in the backwash of light from his lamp. It could have come from any hardware store. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the ordinariness of the screw surprised him. While Bodley worked, Ramsey’s mind wandered. If you have to fix two pieces of metal together, there’re only so many ways of doing it he thought. He wondered idly how many worlds out there had invented the screw thread. Ten minutes later, Ramsey stood clutching handful of screws in his fist as Bodley gently lowered the panel to the floor. They shone their lamps in to the interior of the cavity. Inside was a mass of twisted metal, black with a sooty deposit. Bodley nodded at the debris.

“I’ve already cleared a lot of this. The rest has got to come out. I’ll do the dismantling; you two can carry it up to the airlock and dump it. If the prefabricated parts you bought are accurate, they should fit straight in.”

Ramsey now understood the purpose of the metal beams he and Drake had purchased. At the time, they couldn’t imagine how they would be used. The owner of the small engineering shop where they had been made had looked at the drawings Bodley had given them and chewed on the end of his pencil.

“I can make them all right,” he’d said, replying to Ramsey’s question. “What are they?”

“It’s a project we’re working on,” Drake said quickly. “We can’t say too much, we’re hoping to patent it when it’s finished.”

The owner nodded. “Fair enough. Come back in a couple of weeks.”

            It took two days of unremitting hard work to clear the compartment to Bodley’s satisfaction. Ramsey and Walsh came to hate the metal stairs as they carried the damaged parts up to the airlock for what seemed the hundredth time. Once the new beams were in place, they passed one of the lasers to Bodley who was crouched inside the compartment. While he fitted the laser into position, they slumped down on the floor, too tired even to talk. When he had finished, Bodley climbed out of the compartment and walked round the cylinder. He unscrewed and removed two more panels and ordered Ramsey inside. Under his direction, Ramsey removed a heavy tube trailing a mass of wires and cables from each compartment. The space was cramped and full of machinery; Ramsey’s hands were cut and bruised before the tubes were finally lowered to the floor. New beams were installed and Bodley fitted the other two lasers in place. Bodley opened one of the boxes they had brought in and carefully lifted out a pack of printed circuit boards. He climbed back into each  compartment in turn and fitted the boards into slots set in the side walls. The heavy power sources with their water-cooling had to be manhandled next to the lasers and the cables and pipes connected to sockets in the walls. Bodley stood back inspecting the work. He nodded to himself and walked to the stairs.

“What do you want us do?” asked Ramsey.

Bodley paused on the first step and looked over his shoulder. “Follow me,” he said.

They followed him up the stairs and down a succession of dimly lit corridors to a part of the ship they had not previously visited. He opened a door and touched a panel by the doorframe. Small lights set into the ceiling flickered into life, illuminating a small, cramped room. In front of them, three contoured seats looking like over-stuffed dentists chairs faced a wall of blank screens.  Bodley pointed to the doorway.

“Stand there, don’t move,” he ordered.

Ramsey and Walsh moved back into the doorway and watched as Bodley sat in one of the seats. He swivelled a panel set in one of the armrests round in front of him and ran his hands over the buttons covering its surface.  Ramsey suddenly had the vision of an oversized child in a high chair playing with its feeding tray. Lights on the wall below the screens began glowing and one of the screens lit up. Bodley pressed more buttons, occasionally glancing at the screen, now covered with unintelligible symbols. Another screen lit up and Bodley began pressing the buttons on his panel with great deliberation. He lifted a cap covering a large black button and paused. Even in the dim light, Ramsey could see he was sweating. It was the first sign of emotion he’d ever seen. Bodley took a deep breath and pressed the button. The lights in the compartment dimmed for a second and slowly regained their former brilliance. Bodley frowned and studied the screens in front of him. He pressed more buttons and hit the black button again. The lights dimmed and slowly came back on. It seemed to Ramsey they were not as bright as before.

Walsh put her hand on Ramsey’s shoulder and stood on tiptoe. She put her mouth next to his head and whispered in his ear.

“He’s having trouble. I think he’s trying to start the fusion reactor but it’s not working.”

Ramsey took his eyes from Bodley and bent his head so she could speak to him without straining.

“What makes you think that?” he mouthed.

“I think he’s using the lasers and the batteries we installed to fire up the reactor,” she whispered back to him. “If he doesn’t get it going soon, he’ll flatten the batteries.” She frowned. “I’m not sure I understand this. When he spoke about having trouble with his pinch, I took it to mean his reactor is like the fusion reactors we’re trying to build, shaped like a torus,” She looked up, making a circle with her hands. “Like a big hollow doughnut. The doughnut’s evacuated and a plasma thread circles round inside held in position by powerful magnets. That’s the magnetic pinch. Using lasers to try to start a fusion reaction is a completely different method. The idea is to fire laser beams at pellets of deuterium or tritium. I can’t see how the lasers Bodley’s using could start a reaction, they’re just not powerful enough.” Her eyes darted in Bodley’s direction and back to Ramsey. “Duncan, if only we could find out how he does it, we could solve the world’s energy problems for ever.”

Bodley, still rapidly pressing buttons, seemed oblivious to their whispers; his concentration on the panel in front of him was absolute.

Ramsey nodded at the stick like figure, hunched over his panel. “It doesn’t look like he’s having much luck…. Oh.” He stopped speaking as the lights in the compartment faded away to pinpricks, leaving them in almost total darkness. The lights stayed that way for several minutes, then slowly the screens in front of Bodley began lighting up.  They flickered and stabilised, with strange symbols scrolling up the screens.

Walsh held on to Ramsey, her fingers digging into his arm. “Something’s happening,” she whispered.

Suddenly the compartment was flooded with light. Bodley swung round in his chair and looked at them with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

“Now I have power,” he said.

Ramsey suddenly felt horribly afraid. “Are you finished with us?” he asked quietly.

Chapter 36 New Chapter

CHAPTER 36

Elaine Drake heard a vehicle turn into her drive. She parted the net curtains and looked out. Painter had warned her he would be returning; she had grown progressively more nervous through the morning wondering when he would arrive.  She counted five men getting out of the car before she ran to the front door. She opened it and waited in the doorway as the men walked down the path towards her. Painter, she recognised, the other four were strangers.  No one else from Phil’s station, she thought.

“Hello Elaine,” said Painter. “Can we come in?”

She nodded and let them into the lounge. “Please sit down,” she said.

“Are we likely to be disturbed?” asked one of the men.

Elaine shook her head. “No, my daughter is at school. There’s no-one else in the house.”

The man nodded and sat down.

Painter cleared his throat. “Elaine, before we start, have you told anyone about this. Because if you convince these gentlemen your story is true, it’ll immediately come under the official secrets act. The facts mustn’t become public until the government decides how to handle the situation.”

Elaine shook her head. “No, you were the first person I’ve told. Even my mother doesn’t know about it.” She looked up at Painter. “Phil’s colleagues at the station were involved, what are you going to do about them?”

Painter waved his hand in dismissal. “No need to worry about them. As far as they are concerned, it was just another case. The raid on the flat raised a few eyebrows but by now they’ve probably forgotten about it.” He paused. “I’ll make the introductions and then we can start.” He nodded at two middle-aged men sitting together on the settee. “Doctor Abraham Levy and Professor James Merrill. We didn’t know what disciplines would be appropriate so we had to guess. Doctor Levy is a molecular biologist and Professor Merrill is a physicist. “

The two men half rose out of their seats and smiled at Elaine as their names were mentioned. Painter turned to the other two men. “Mr. Pearson and Mr. Stebben.”

The two men nodded at Elaine but otherwise stayed silent.

“Are you gentlemen scientists too?” she asked.

Pearson shook his head. “Let’s just say we represent the Government, Mrs, Drake,” he said quietly.”

Elaine nodded slowly with understanding. Spooks, her husband called their kind. She knew enough about government policy to realise these men wouldn’t want her to know their real professions. She wondered if the names they’d given were real. She mentally shrugged and turned to Painter. “Do you want me to begin,” she asked.

Painter nodded. “If you would. Start when you first heard about Bodley.”

Pearson put a small recorder on the coffee table. “Whenever you’re ready.”

As she opened her mouth, the four men leaned forwards in their seats.

                        When she’d finished, she sat back in her chair. “That’s all I know,” she said.

Levy and Merrill looked at each other.

“Well that is some story,” said Merrill. He turned to Levy. “What do you make of that? Could a man do what Mrs. Drake said he did?”

Levy shrugged his shoulders. “Before today, I would have said not. I can’t think of any biological process that would allow a man to influence objects with brainpower alone. Mrs. Drake seems to be saying she has proof such a man exists.”

“He’s not a man,” interrupted Elaine. “My husband and Duncan Ramsey are sure of it. They’re convinced he isn’t human. I told you the real Bodley was killed in France in the Second World War, he just took his name.” She shivered.

“Yes, I remember what you said,” said Levy. “You’ve never actually seen him have you?”

“No, replied Elaine. “My husband said he looked very ordinary except he was completely bald.”

Levy nodded. “We’ve seen the pictures.” He turned to Merrill. “What do you think, if he is an alien, it means he’s come from out of our solar system.”

Merrill nodded slowly. “Right, with all that implies.”

Elaine looked up. “Implies what?”

Merrill opened his hands, palms upwards as if making an offering of his knowledge. “Mrs. Drake, none of the other planets in our solar system can support life; he must have come from another star. That presupposes a very long journey time or a means of travelling at very high speeds. Up to now, we thought nothing can travel faster than light. Einstein gave us the equations and we’ve spent the last fifty years proving him correct. Even at the speed of light, it would take four years to reach Earth from the nearest star, and we don’t think that star would have planets that could support life. If that is correct, it follows he must have come from much father away, that implies faster than light speeds. If that is right, it means the last fifty years work in physics will have to be re-thought.” He winced. “Not a prospect I’d relish.”

Levy smiled in sympathy. “Let’s assume for the moment he is an alien. What are the chances of his craft remaining undetected for all these years if it crashed near Scotland?”

Merrill frowned. “Very good I would think. Remember, he said he came here over a hundred years ago. There was no such thing as radar in those days. The north of Scotland is not over populated. If as Mrs. Drake says, he hid it under water, why should anyone find it?”

That’s a point,” said Stebben. “How do we find it? We’ve only a place name that Detective Drake gave us. We don’t know the exact location I don’t want to have men searching the coast; a sudden influx of people would certainly alert him.”

Merrill thought for a moment. He looked up. “No problem. We’ll fly a plane over the coast with a magnetic anomaly detector on board. If the ship is any size, it’ll show up even if it’s under water.”

Levy coughed. “Supposing it’s not made of metal. There’s no reason it has to be, you know.”

Merrill smiled. “Then we’ll have to think of something else.”

Pearson stirred in his seat. “You’re both talking as if you’ve accepted this story. Do either of you have any doubts at all?”

Levy shook his head. “I don’t think so. You’ve heard the recordings that Detective Drake made. His daughter’s death is also contributory evidence, I think.”

“Drake and his wife could be lying, anyone could have made those recordings,” replied Pearson. “We’ve spoken briefly to Drake but he’s too ill for prolonged questioning, we have to rely on her testimony. Their daughter’s death could have been a natural event.” He said this sitting next to Elaine without a trace of embarrassment.

Elaine sat up in her seat. “If you don’t believe me, why are you here? Why should we make up such a tale? Do you think we’re mad or something.”

Painter patted her arm. “Steady Elaine, Mr. Pearson is just playing devil’s advocate. The story is hard to believe at first hearing, you must admit.”

“We could do with more evidence,” said Pearson. “That list of parts you said your husband bought would have been useful for instance.”

“Oh yes, the list of parts to repair the ship,” sighed Merrill. “I really would have liked to have seen that.”

“I told you, Bodley took it back,” said Elaine. She stopped, her face brightening. She pointed across the room. “The computer. We searched for the parts on the Internet. We haven’t deleted anything; the whole list should be on the disk.”

Merrill half rose out of his seat. “Do you want me to have a look?”

Pearson held up his hand. “Are you a computer expert?”

Merrill sat back down. “Not an expert, no. But I use one in the course of my work.”

“Not good enough,” snapped Pearson.  “I don’t want the slightest chance of data being lost. One wrong stroke of a key could loose us important information. I’ll get one of our men from the computing section over here.”

“Over here?” questioned Elaine. The thought of more men invading her home filled her with dismay. “Can’t you take it away?”

Pearson shook his head. “I daren’t risk it. The computer stays here until we can check it out. Mr. Stebben will stay here overnight to look after it.”

“Stay here?” whispered Elaine.

Pearson nodded. “Your computer could hold the most important information in the world, I’m not exaggerating. I’ve got to protect it until we can find out what’s on it.” Stebben leaned forward and smiled, his face softening. “Don’t worry Mrs. Drake. I’m house trained. I’ll be as unobtrusive as possible.”

Elaine’s hands fluttered against her chest. “What do I tell my daughter? After her sister’s death and her dad’s heart attack, she doesn’t need any more upsets.”

“Tell her the truth,” said Painter. “Tell her there’s something very important to do with her father’s work on the computer and Mr. Stebben is a policeman here to guard it.”

Elaine nodded slowly. She didn’t like it but she could see she had no choice in the matter.

Chapter 37 New Chapter

CHAPTER 37

            Levy looked out over the heads of the men as they shuffled down the rows taking their seats. A small group of hand picked scientists had been summoned the previous day to an anonymous room in Whitehall. After a prolonged interview, they’d been asked to sign the official secrets act. There were some small protests when it was announced they could not return home that evening but were being taken to a hotel until the next morning. Now, amid great speculation, they assembled in a small conference room where Levy and Merrill were waiting for them on a low rostrum. Detective Chief Inspector Painter sat quietly next to them. Levy waited until the murmur of conversation had died down and cleared his throat.

“Gentlemen, what I am about to tell you must not go beyond these four walls.” He paused for emphasis. “It concerns the first real proof that intelligent life exists outside this planet.” He held up his hand as a hubbub of exited exclamations rippled round the room. He raised his voice to be heard. “And what is more, we’re almost certain an alien is on Earth right now.”

The noise level in the room rose higher. One of the scientists stood up, his face darkening with anger.

“Is this what you’ve dragged me away from my work to hear? The idea is nonsense. The other planets in the solar system can’t support life and the distance to other stars makes a journey to Earth impossible.”

There was a murmur of agreement in the room.

Levy smiled benignly down from the rostrum. “I suggest you wait until you hear the evidence before you make up your mind.” He nodded and a man in military uniform began passing round box files. “Those boxes contain all the evidence for you to read later but first we’ll talk you through it. We also have recordings for you to hear.” He pointed to a collection of large flasks and cups standing on two side tables. “We’ll be here all day gentlemen, please help yourselves to tea or coffee.” He nodded at Painter who slowly stood up and faced the audience. He placed a folder of papers on the lectern and smoothed them down with his hands. He looked up.

“This whole thing started with a case we had in mid December,” he began. At first, we thought it was just a Saturday night brawl, we soon found out it was more than that. Much more….”

Half an hour later Painter had finished. As he sat down, a buzz of conversation filled the room. Levy stood up and waited until the room fell silent.

“You’ll have a chance to question Detective Painter later. There’s a complete transcript of his report in your boxes, copies of the  scans of the three men and the surgeons report on Inspector Drake’s daughter. On the strength of Mrs. Drake’s testimony, we sent another forensics team to Bodley’s flat. It was searched before of course but then we thought we were looking for an ordinary criminal. This time they’re looking for traces of DNA. We haven’t had the results back yet but if they find some anomalous material, it will strengthen the case for Bodley being an alien.” He stood silent for a moment, staring at his audience who were beginning to realise the implications of what they were hearing. 

“Now we come to the recordings Inspector Drake made during the visits he and Sergeant Ramsey made to the man calling himself Bodley. When you’ve heard them, we have a presentation of the list of purchases he was forced to buy.”

It was late afternoon before they finished. Levy blinked as the projector was turned off and the room lights came back on. He looked around.

“I don’t expect answers from any of you right now. I want you to take your boxes back to your rooms and study the files inside. Tomorrow, I want your considered opinion on the veracity of the story.”

One of the scientists looked up. “We’re not being allowed home?”

Levy shook his head. “No, sorry. You were allowed a phone call to your families yesterday. You can make another this evening; we’ll supply a reason for your continued absence. Until we settle this matter, I’m afraid none of us will be going home.”

            The next day, a very subdued group of scientist gathered in the room. They’d been up nearly all night discussing the files, only catching a few hours sleep in the early morning. Many of them had not bothered to shave and with their rumpled shirts, they looked nothing like the leaders in their respective fields of research.  Levy waited until they were all seated.

“You’ve had a lot to study in a short time. For that I’m sorry, but we had no choice. Ramsey and Walsh vanished six days ago with Bodley and we don’t know how long it will take to repair the ship. You know he speculated it would take about three weeks but we can’t be sure of that. Now, have any of you come to any conclusions?”

A scientist put his hand up. “From the way you’re talking, you seem to have accepted there is an alien and he has a ship. Is that right?”

Levy nodded. “We can’t do anything else. If it turns out to be a wild goose chase, well, we’ve only wasted time. If it is true and we let the alien repair his ship and leave, we’ll have wasted the only opportunity to study alien biology and technology. We can’t take that chance.” He turned to the rest of the audience. “Now, your thoughts please.”

An elderly woman scientist put her hand up. “I’d like a change of underwear please.”

There was general laughter in the room.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” said Levy. “Things were done in a bit of a rush. I’ll arrange a change of clothes for you this evening. Right, can we start?”

The discussions went on until they were interrupted in the mid afternoon. A soldier came in to the room and handed Levy an envelope. He lent forward and spoke softly for a minute. Levy’s face brightened, he nodded to the soldier who turned round and smartly left the room.  Levy tapped on the lectern.

“I have some news gentlemen.” He held up the envelope. “I’ve just been informed a large magnetic anomaly has been found off the north coast of Scotland near a place called Tongue bay. I think we’ve found the ship.”

Chapter 38 New Chapter

CHAPTER 38

            Levy and Merrill were ushered into a large room. A large table occupied most of the centre of the room, its lustrous polish reflecting the light from two chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.  Ornate chairs were placed all round the table. At one end of the table, sat four men. A middle-aged woman sat to one side of the men, a pad on her lap. Levy recognised the Home secretary; the other three were strangers. The minister rose to greet them.

“Please sit down gentlemen.” He indicated to two of the men. “These are members of our special forces, Lieutenant Moss and Sergeant Hamilton.” He nodded at the other man. “Mr. Cass.” He didn’t introduce the woman.

He didn’t elaborate but both Levy and Merrill recognised the euphemism for the SAS. Cass was undoubtedly intelligence. The soldiers nodded at the two scientists but otherwise stayed silent. Cass sat with his elbows on the table, his hands clasped as if in prayer, his fingertips touching his chin. He acknowledged their presence with the slightest nod of his head. Once they were seated, the minister clasped his hands in front of him and looked at the two scientists.

“We’re anxious to hear your conclusions gentlemen.”

Levy and Merrill opened their briefcases and laid a bundle of files on the table. Merrill looked at Levy.

“Would you like to start,” he said.

Levy nodded and opened his files. He folded his hands on the table and looked across the table to the minister. He took a deep breath.

“We think we’ve gathered enough evidence to be certain the man who calls himself Bodley is not human. “ He paused for a moment to let the statement sink in to his audience. “The evidence can be categorised in two groups, scientific and the statements made by people who have had contact with Bodley.” He glanced briefly down at his notes.  “I’ll start with the scientific evidence. Once we’d heard Detective Drake and his wife’s testimony, we sent a team of forensic scientist back to Bodley’s flat. The police forensics people have already been through the place of course, but they thought they were looking for an ordinary criminal. Now we know better, we were hoping they could collect samples of house dust to test for DNA testing. Now the majority of house dust consists of shed human skin scales.  The amount of dust in the flat was minimal and none of it contained any scales, human or otherwise. This raised suspicions straight away. Any one who had lived in a dwelling for the time Bodley was resident, no matter how thoroughly they cleaned, would have left evidence of their occupation. When they tested the drains in the bath and the toilet they were more successful, they found small amounts of epithelial cells. The samples collected are strange, they’re not DNA, more like DNA analogues.”

The minister frowned. “DNA analogues?”

Levy nodded. “They share some of the characteristics of DNA but they’re not DNA in the true sense. These results even though they have to be confirmed add weight to the argument we’re not dealing with anything human. Another piece of scientific evidence is the death of Detective Drake’s daughter. You know from our preliminary report that Drake said Bodley caused her death. We’ve spoken to the surgeon who operated on the girl. He said her condition was unusual, the rest of her arteries showed no sign of weakness. He couldn’t explain why one of them should suddenly burst. At first he thought it was an aneurysm, but the post mortem raised some serious doubts about that. At the moment, they’re in the dark, we haven’t enlightened them of course. Drake himself is further evidence. His cardiac arrest cannot be definitely linked to Bodley’s interference; it could have been a natural event. However, Drake insists Bodley gave him his heart attack when he attempted to strike Bodley.”

“Rather a foolish thing to do considering what he told us about his previous experiences,” said the minister.

Levy shrugged. “Foolish maybe, but understandable. Drake has an all-consuming hatred for Bodley; remember he admitted killing his daughter. You’ve seen his statement. When he thought Bodley was attacking Ramsey, he just ignored everything he knew about Bodley and just lashed out.”

The minister nodded. “As you say understandable. What else have you got for us?”

“The other evidence is rather out of my field.” He replied. He glanced across at Merrill. “Would you like to carry on?”

Merrill nodded. He cleared his throat

“Now we come to the disappearance of Detective Sergeant Ramsey and Debbie Walsh. Inspector Drake told us he thinks they’ve been forced to go to Scotland with this man Bodley to repair his craft. Drake had given us a rough location. When we checked the area, we found a large magnetic anomaly just off the coast. We’re certain that’s the location of the alien’s space ship. Aerial reconnaissance photographs show a house near the cliff top right next to the anomaly. We have to move fast on this, Drake said he was told it would take about three weeks to finish the repair and time is running out.” He consulted his files. “The house is owned by a man called Christopher Sanderson. He bought the land in nineteen ten and had the house built two years later.”

The minister looked up. “Nineteen ten? If he bought the land when he was a young man, he would be over a hundred by now, or dead. Surely he’d be dead now wouldn’t he?”

Merrill shook his head. “Not if he’s our alien. The deeds haven’t been changed to another name since the original was filed. That’s a big mistake on his part. We’ve been told he bought other properties in the twenties and thirties. This mistake might help us identify them. Any records with the same name appearing for an over long period will warrant an investigation.” He slid a photo across the table to the minister. “That’s a computer generated picture taken from the data collected by the magnetic anomaly detector.  We’re sure the anomaly is the ship; it’s very near the place Drake gave us. We reckon Bodley had the house built so he could keep an eye on it.” Merrill slid another photo across the desk. “This is a picture the aerial reconnaissance people took of the house. Drake had told us that Bodley had his goods stored in a lock-up in the industrial area, When Ramsey and Walsh went missing the police checked the CCTV cameras in the town. They followed Ramsey’s car through the town to Albright Road, near the industrial area, that was the last sight they had of it. Albright road is only a few streets from the lock-up.”

“What about the lock-up,” interrupted the minister. “Have you checked it, Was there anything in it?”

Merrill shook his head. “The police went there as soon as Drake told them about it. The lock-up contained Ramsey’s car, nothing else.” He paused for a moment to regain his thread after the ministers interruption to his flow. “Shortly after, a white hire van was seen driving back down the same road. That alerted the police because Drake had already told them they’d hired a van to carry Bodley’s goods up north. They tracked the van through the town until it passed out of the surveyed area and they lost sight of it. However, from its direction, they’re certain it was heading for the motorway. We’re convinced Ramsey and Walsh were in that van. The photo shows the same make of white van parked in the drive of the house. It has the same registration number of the one we saw in Albright Road, conclusive proof to my mind, that Ramsey and Walsh are at the house. Then there’s the set of steps cut into the cliff face right in front of the house. They’re obviously there to give access to the ship. Remember, Drake said it was hidden underwater. We only flew the plane over once so we didn’t alert him, but the pictures show all the detail we need.”

 “And the scientists that looked at your evidence, they’re really convinced this man Bodley is an alien?” asked the minister.

Merrill nodded. “They are. Drake and his wife make convincing witnesses, they’ve no reason to make up a story like this and the evidence we’ve collected supports their story. Then there are the three men who were attacked last year in an underpass. When we re-interviewed them, two of them picked out Bodley’s face from a group of photographs. Now we come to Drake’s list. Our group tried to work out what could be built with the things he had to buy. Most of it made no sense at all. But some, especially the electronics, could be used as part of a control system very similar to our advanced jet fighters.”

The minister’s eyebrows went up. “Could they by Christ.” He shook his head, drawing in a deep breath. “Right, so you’re saying your evidence convinces you we have an alien trying to repair his space ship in Scotland,” he paused, half-smiling. “I can’t believe I just said that.” He stared fixedly at the two men. “You really are convinced?”

Both scientists nodded.

 “So what are your recommendations?”

“Catch him,” said Merrill shortly. “The technology on that ship could put us a hundred, maybe two hundred years ahead. How we do it is another story.”

Levy leaned forward. “You’ve read our report about his paranormal ability?”

The minister nodded. “That’s the bit I find hard to believe.”

“We’ve solid proof about that,” said Levy. He counted them off on his fingers. “The injuries to the three men in the underpass, the two patrol men knocked unconscious, Drake’s daughter’s death and the testimony of Drake himself.  We have no doubt he has some strange ability. That makes a frontal approach very risky.” He glanced at the three silent men sitting on the other side of the table. “I think that’s where you gentlemen come into the picture.”

Moss nodded and looked squarely at Levy. “There’s no chance of approaching him, asking him for his co-operation?”

Levy shook his head. “From what we’ve learned about him and his past behaviour, I think that’s highly unlikely.”

 “How sure are you of this man’s ability to disable from a distance?”

“As I said, we’ve solid proof. Both Drake and Ramsey have first hand experience of his ability. They were both paralysed by him.”

Moss frowned. “What sort of range are we talking about?”

Levy sighed. “That we don’t know. Drake and Ramsey were in the same room and the men in the underpass and our two patrol men were no more than a few feet away.” He tapped the files in front of him. “We’ve no other evidence of his ability.”

“So it could be a short range effect,” said Hamilton.

Levy nodded slowly. “It could be, yes, but I wouldn’t count on it. Just because we have no evidence of him using his abilities at a distance doesn’t mean he can’t.”

“That brings us to another question,” said Moss. “Are we to take him dead or alive?”

The minister looked startled at the question. His head snapped round to Moss.

“Alive of course. We’ll learn nothing from a dead man.”

“Then we have a problem,” replied Moss abruptly. “If this man can attack us from a distance, our best option is to shoot him dead at long range. If you want him alive, we’d have to use something like an anaesthetic dart to put him out. To do that, our man would have to be close in; the dart guns don’t have the range or accuracy for a distance shot.”

“What anaesthetic are you thinking of using?” asked Levy.

“They’re variations of the sort vets use for anaesthetising big game,” replied Moss. He paused noting the look on Levy’s face. “Is there a problem with that?”

Levy pursed his lips. “How do we know it’ll work on him? We know nothing of his physiology.”

Moss frowned. “If you want him alive, it’s the only option we have. Those drugs are powerful. If you don’t think they’ll be strong enough, we could use the veterinary drugs, they can put down an elephant. They would kill a man if he was darted.”

“Even an elephant doesn’t go under immediately, and the evidence suggests we’re not dealing with a man,” replied Levy. “Even if it did affect him, he may not succumb straight away. He could do a lot of damage before the drug takes affect. We’d almost certainly loose our serviceman.” He turned to the minister. “Supposing the drug doesn’t affect him. Once he’s alerted, who knows what he might do?” He gestured at Merrill sitting next to him. “I’m afraid this is where I disagree with my colleague. I think Bodley is too dangerous to be taken alive; I think we should kill him.”

Cass cleared his throat. He spoke for the first time since the meeting had begun. “No, he is to be taken alive.”

The minister nodded at Cass. “I agree.” He shook his head. “I’m very surprised to hear you say that Doctor Levy. Don’t you appreciate the knowledge this man could give us?”

“Oh I appreciate it all right,” said Levy heavily. “How do you propose to extract it from him? As soon as he wakes up from the anaesthetic,  that’s assuming it works, anyone approaching him could be killed or disabled. I don’t think we can take the risk. He’s already proved he’s quite willing and capable of killing and disabling. Remember, he admitted to Drake he killed his daughter and Alfred Bodley so he could take his name. We don’t know how many others died so he could take their identities. I think he has to be killed.”

Cass leaned forward in his chair. He shook his head. “No, we can’t agree to that. Once we’ve got him, we’ll rig up some sort of secure holding facility; talk to him by closed circuit television if necessary.” He stared at Levy. “We want Bodley taken alive. Those are orders right from the PM. He told me if the evidence convinced the scientists the man really is an alien, every step must be taken to capture him alive. You’ve just told me you’re convinced gentlemen, now you must carry out the PM’s instructions.” He included Merrill in his gaze. “We’ll leave you now. Please give these gentlemen all the information you have, we have to move on this as soon as possible. You’re aware of the three-week deadline. We’ve used up more than a week of that already.”

He rose from his seat and left the room, the minister and his secretary silently following him.

Levy and Merrill watched them leave the room then turned to face the two hard faced men across the table.

Two hours later Moss and Hamilton walked out of the room with a box of files under their arms. They climbed into their car and Hamilton drove carefully through the rush hour traffic out of London. Moss spent half an hour re-reading the files in the box on his lap. He looked up as Hamilton lit a cigarette from the car’s lighter. He passed the cigarette to Moss and lit another for himself. He put the cigarette in his mouth and rested both hands back on the wheel.

“What do you think then,” said Hamilton.

Moss grunted. “I thought we’d dropped into fairyland at first. Go out and capture a spaceman.” He grunted again. “Bloody fairyland.”

Hamilton’s face twisted into a grin. He nodded at the box on Moss’s lap. “They mean it though. Nobody’s told us this is an exercise, they really mean it.” He drew on his cigarette and blew a stream of blue smoke at the windscreen. “I wonder just how far Bodley can reach out,” he said reflectively.

Moss shook his head. “That’s the one piece of information we really need, so of course that’s the bit they can’t tell us. We’ll try it their way and try to take him alive with the dart gun but we’ll only have one chance. If that fails and he attacks our man, we’ll blow him away with a couple of long-range sniper rifles. I’m not risking my men just for the sake of some bloody politician.”

Hamilton nodded slowly. “So how do we play it then?”

“Three four man squads,” replied Moss. “We’ll deploy the first squad round the house with rifles. We’ll dress up one man as a hiker or something. He’ll be the man with the dart gun. It’ll have to look like something a hiker would carry, we’ll have to get the special weapons boys onto that. I thought at first of a taser or a stun gun, but a taser would be hard to disguise as anything else and stun gun need direct contact. A dart gun is our best bet. If the topography allows us to fly in without being seen from the house, we’ll move a couple of choppers in at zero feet to within about two miles. The other squads will wait with the choppers in case of trouble. I’ll have to put it to the old man but I reckon he’ll go for it.”

“We don’t have much time,” replied Hamilton. “We’ll need to be up there for at least a couple of days to suss out his routine.”

Moss grinned. “That’s why I think the CO will agree with me. We’ve got to move fast. If I can drop a ready made plan of operation in his lap, it’ll save him thinking one up himself.”

Chapter 39 New Chapter

CHAPTER 39

“Are you finished with us?” asked Ramsey.

Bodley rose from his chair. “No. I have power but I have no flight controls, they were burnt out in the explosion. We have at least another weeks’ work ahead of us.”

Ramsey’s stomach did a flip-flop and he released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. They were safe for the moment. Bodley brushed passed them as he left the room.

“Come with me,” he said.

Walsh hung back. “Was that a fusion reactor you just lit?” she asked.

Bodley looked at her and slowly nodded. “Very observant,” he said. “Now follow me.”

They followed him back down the stairs to the fusion room. Bodley led them round the central cylinder to a door opening onto a large room. Benches and cupboards lined the walls. Ramsey recognised a lathe and drill press standing against one wall. They looked old and well used.

Bodley pointed at the benches. “This will be your workshop. Bring the rest of the boxes in here and stack them on one of the benches.”

Ramsey nodded at the machinery. “They look just like ones made here,” he said.

“They were made here, you fool,” retorted Bodley. “I had to bring them up here in pieces and assemble them. I told you, I had a lot of modifications to make. I’m going back to the control room; you get on with your work.”

Ramsey and Walsh walked back into the fusion room. Walsh stared at the cylinder, trying to imagine the raging nuclear furnace only a few feet from her. Ramsey noticed her stillness.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Walsh pointed. “There’s a little bit of the sun in there,” she said quietly.

Ramsey flicked a smile at her. “Just as long as it stays in there.” He took her arm and gently nuzzled her ear. “Come on, back to work.” He glanced at the stairs. “We don’t want to give Bodley a reason to loose his temper with us.”

Walsh nodded. She followed Ramsey to the pile of boxes and started dragging them into the workshop. Every time she re-entered the fusion room, looked thoughtfully at the cylinder. After a couple of hours, they’d moved most of the boxes into the workshop.

“He’s treating us like a couple of slaves,” grunted Walsh as she lifted a box onto the bench. She whirled round as Bodley’s voice came from a grill set high on the wall.

“That’s because you are slaves. You live on a planet of slaves. Now get on with your work.”

Walsh frowned and made a vee sign at the speaker. She had the good sense not to answer back. Once the boxes were stacked on the benches, Ramsey looked around, wondering what to do next. He looked up at the speaker.

“The boxes are in the workshop, now what?”

Bodley’s voice came over the speaker. “Each box is numbered, lay them out in sequence. Open them and lay the contents on the benches. Don’t take the electronic parts out of their protective wrappers. When you’ve done that, come back up here.”

An hour later, Ramsey and Walsh wearily trudged up the stairs. Bodley met them at the door of the control room.

“Go back to the house, I won’t need you until tomorrow,” he ordered.

“What, you’re letting us out of your sight?” asked Walsh.

Bodley leered at her. “Don’t go getting ideas. I have control of you wherever you are. Just remember that.”

They made their way to the airlock and put on their dry suits and breathing gear. Ramsey opened the inner door and they stepped into the lock. He pulled the door shut and spun the handle. They had been in and out of the lock so many times it had become routine. Ramsey pressed a button set in a panel on the wall and the sea started filling the lock. When it was up to their chests, he had a thought. He pressed the next button on the panel and was pleased to see a crack appear in the outer hull as the outer door started to slide open. The sudden rush of seawater through the growing gap threw them violently off balance, the water heaving and swirling inside the confined space.  Once the lock was full, the buffeting subsided. They waited until the outer door was fully open and swum out of the lock and up the guide rope to the platform. They climbed out of the water and sat with their backs to the cliff catching their breath. Walsh pulled off her facemask.

“Why did you do that?” she asked. “I thought you had to wait until the lock was full of water before you opened the outer door.”

“That’s what Bodley said. I just wanted to see if the door would open before the lock was full,” replied Ramsey. “We might want to get out of there in a hurry, I wanted to see how quick we could do it.”

“If we were braced, theoretically we could open the outer door with the lock empty. The incoming rush of water would be fierce but I think we could stand it,” said Walsh thoughtfully.” She looked up at Ramsey. “What brought this on?”

As they slowly climbed the steps, Ramsey looked back at her. “It’s something Bodley said about us living on a planet of slaves,” he said. “I had this horrible thought that if he gets away, he might come back with some of his mates. Can you imagine what a hundred like Bodley could do? Or a thousand? They could take over the government of every country in the world. They’d become our lord and masters, there wouldn’t be a thing we could do to stop them.”

Walsh stopped in her tracks. “Jesus Christ, yes.” She looked up at Ramsey. “Duncan, it’s too great a risk. We can’t let him get away.”

            They spent that night with their faces close together on the pillow whispering quietly to each other. They ran through all sorts of fanciful schemes, exploring any way they could think of to destroy Bodley or his ship. Their frustration was they didn’t know enough about the ship to identify any vulnerable part and Bodley would certainly check the electronics they were going to assemble. It seemed hopeless.

“Come on Deb,” whispered Ramsey, “you’re the electronics expert. Surely you can think of some way to disable the ship.”

Walsh shook her head. “I don’t know the first thing about it. Neither of us have any idea how it works.” She sighed. “What we really want is something he won’t notice until he takes off, then the whole bloody shooting match blows up.”

“No chance of that,” said Ramsey. He was silent for a moment. “My first thought was to open both airlock doors, flooding the ship with him inside it. That won’t work, the inner door won’t open until the outer one is shut, I know, I’ve tried it. I’ve no idea how to get round that. That’s why I tried the outer door today. I thought the sudden rush of water might blow the inner door. Trouble is, the outer door slides at its own speed, we can’t open it fully all at once so the impact of the incoming water is lessened.”

Walsh’s face creased into a frown. “What happens when we leave him behind in the ship? We don’t shut the outer door. If the inner door won’t open until the outer door is shut, how does he get out?”

Ramsey was silent for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that. He must have some way of closing the outer door from inside the ship and pumping the water out. I haven’t seen him do it; I’ve no idea where the controls are.”

If we could find the controls, we could smash them,” said Walsh. “Then he’d be trapped inside the ship. We could call in the army to blow him up.”

Ramsey shook his head. “We wouldn’t know where to begin looking. There’s nothing near the inner door that looks anything like the controls inside the lock. For all we know, they could be in the control room. Bodley never leaves us alone in there and even if he did, we wouldn’t know what to look for.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid that idea’s out. I had thought of jamming the outer door open. That way he couldn’t get out. That’s out too. We’ve got nothing to jam it with and I think Bodley would be a bit suspicious if we swum down carrying a lump of rock or something.”

“He might have another way out that we don’t know about, anyway,” replied Walsh.

Ramsey nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed. “I’m running out of ideas.”

Walsh put her finger on his mouth, silencing him. “All right then. What if we took some of the parts he brought up here and slung them into the sea? That would stop him dead. He might even have to return south to order replacements. It would give us a breathing space to think up something better.”

Ramsey nodded slowly. “It might work. They’d have to be small parts we could smuggle out under our suits.” He nodded again. “ We’ll have to wait until the last minute before we finish work for the day. That way there’d be less chance of him finding out something’s missing.” He paused, his forehead creasing into a frown. “Of course he’ll find out eventually. You can imagine what his reaction will be.”

“Bloody violent probably,” said Walsh. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Still, it’s the best plan we have so far. It’s worth the risk.”

Walsh shivered and clung to Ramsey. They lay in silence until they both fell asleep.

The next day they dressed in their dry suits and made their way wearily to the steps. Bodley had already left some half an hour earlier. As soon as they were out of sight, a figure rose from the bushes on the hillside and slowly crept down towards the house. Sergeant Morrison stopped near the front garden, pressing himself into the bushes near the wall. He realised he was sweating, his heart pounding in his chest. Terrorists and hijackers he could deal with, but this was something different. During the briefing, he and the rest of the men had suddenly realised they weren’t the victim of an elaborate practical joke. Photographs, tape recordings and doctors reports all pointed to the same thing. The man they were up against could kill just by looking at you. He was a fucking bogyman. He took a deep breath and spoke into his throat mike to his companion on the hillside.

“Still clear?”

The reply crackled in his earpiece. “Clear, go.”

Morrison quickly ran up the front garden path and studied the front door. He gently tried the handle and to his surprise found the door unlocked. Pushing the door open, he knelt down by the hinges. Their first thought was to plant listening devices inside the house but the idea was vetoed. They didn’t know how far Bodley’s power extended. If he detected the bug, Christ knows what would happen, probably the death of the police detective and his girlfriend for a start. They settled for a simple device that would give them advance warning when the front door was opened. Morrison undid the bag hanging from his shoulder and laid out his tools. He quickly removed a screw from the bottom door hinge and its opposite number on the doorframe. He replaced the screw in the door from one from his pack and screwed it up tight. Picking up a battery powered drill and carefully drilled into the screw hole in the doorframe. He slid a pencil thin transmitter into the hole. Thin wires connected it to a screw head shaped button switch that he fitted into the hinge plate with a dab of quick setting epoxy resin to hold it in place. Using a small battery operated vacuum cleaner, he removed the wood shavings from the floor. Morrison sat back and surveyed his handiwork. The new screws were a dull brown, matching the rest of the screws in the hinge. He nodded to himself. Even from a few inches away, it was almost impossible to see that the heads of the screws protruded slightly so they would touch each other when the door was closed. He repacked his tools and stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him. 

He spoke into his throat mike. “I’ve finished, I’m opening the door now.”

As he opened the door, his companion watched the red LED light up on the small box in his hand. He quickly replied to Morrison, “We have a signal, get out of there.”

Morrison pulled the door closed and ran back down the garden path. Within seconds, he’d vanished back into the bushes.  

            Once Ramsey and Walsh were down in the ship they spent the day sweating at the benches assembling the electronics. Bodley had already assembled many of the circuit boards, but from the packets of electronics piled on the bench, they reckoned they still had several days work ahead of them. The acrid smell of solder flux filled the air of the workshop as they soldered components to the printed circuit boards, following the drawings Bodley had provided. Ramsey, less skilled than Walsh had numerous small burns on his hands before he learned to handle the soldering iron without accidentally touching the hot components. He’d had to learn fast, Bodley tested everything they did and mistakes were not tolerated. Ramsey found this out the hard way. At the end of the days work, they climbed the stairs to the control room where Bodley was working; carrying the components they’d assembled. Bodley had removed many of the covers from the control panel, revealing a maze of wiring and electronics. He took the boards from them and pushed them into slots inside the panel. Pressing buttons on his lapboard, he watched the screens as a series of symbols appeared. He appeared satisfied at first, but suddenly his face darkened. He slid from his seat and pulled a board out of the panel.

“Who did this?” he asked quietly.

Ramsey and Walsh studied the board, trying to recognise the layout.

Finally, Ramsey spoke up. “I think it’s one of mine,” he said.

Bodley’s face contracted into a snarl. “Wrong,” he screamed.

Walsh watched white faced as Ramsey suddenly fell to the floor, writhing in agony as Bodley screamed at him, waving the faulty board in his face. It was her first experience of Bodley’s strange talent, up to that moment; it had only been something Ramsey had told her about. In the back of her mind, she hadn’t really believed it. Seeing it happen before her eyes paralysed her with fear. She tried to move to help the stricken man but her feet wouldn’t move. Bodley stepped back and watched impassively as Ramsey slowly recovered. He rose unsteadily to his feet, hanging on to one of the chairs for support. Walsh snapped out of her paralysis and rushed forward to help him up. Bodley thrust the board into Ramsey’s hands.

“Fix it. IC five is round the wrong way.” He pushed his head forwards, glaring into Ramsey’s face. “Follow the drawing, don’t make any more mistakes.” He turned his back in dismissal.

Walsh helped Ramsey back down the stairs to the workshop.

“Are you all right?” she whispered.

Ramsey nodded, gritting his teeth every time his left leg touched the floor. When they reached the workshop, he sat heavily onto the stool in front of the workbench. He picked up the soldering iron.

“Best get started,” he said shakily.

Walsh took the iron from him. She shook her head, putting her hand over his.

“I’ll do it,” she said gently. “You couldn’t tie your shoelaces in the state you’re in.”

It was late into the evening before they finally left the ship. That night, Ramsey gritted his teeth as Walsh tried to massage the knots out of his thigh muscles.

After that incident, Bodley seemed to relax. He seemed confident that his power over them was complete. Once he’d given them their instructions for the day, he’d disappear for hours at a time. They couldn’t relax though. Occasionally, he would re-enter the room and with a nod of his head, indicate they should follow him.   Opening panels on the central cylinder, he’d point to various buttons or levers inside the recess. He leave them and moments later, his voice would rasp over the loudspeaker. Under his instructions, they’d press the buttons and move the levers. Nothing seemed to happen, but Bodley seemed satisfied, which was all they cared about. As long as they did nothing to annoy him, they felt relatively safe. They took advantage of his absence to work out the sequence of the boards they were working on. At the end of the bench was a collection of electronic components they would not be assembling for some days. Walsh spent some time studying the specifications of the various components. When they had finished work for the day, Walsh walked to the end of the bench and picked up a microprocessor. It lay in the palm of her hand, looking like an oblong black insect. She looked intently at Ramsey. He moved to the door and checked to make sure Bodley was not in sight. He nodded. Walsh laid the microprocessor on the bench and pressed firmly down, crushing the tiny legs. She put it in her jeans pocket and let out a long breath. Neither of them said anything. After Bodley had checked their days work, they climbed up to the airlock. Walsh looked over her shoulder down the corridor to the stairs. Confident they were alone; she pulled the microprocessor from her pocket and held it tightly in her hand. She zipped herself into her dry suit and tucked the microprocessor into the cuff. They put on their breathing gear and Ramsey opened the inner door. Once they were inside the lock, with the inner door firmly shut, Walsh let out a sigh of relief. She waited in a fever of impatience as the lock slowly filled. Finally, the outer door slid open. She pushed gently with her feet and drifted out of the lock, reaching for the guide rope. She hooked her arm round the rope, pulled the microprocessor from her cuff and let it go. She watched as it sank down to the rocks below and disappeared into the weed. She followed Ramsey to the surface and climbed onto the platform. She spat out her breathing tube mouthpiece and took off her mask. “Well we’ve done it,” she said solemnly. “In about two days from now, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

Ramsey kissed her wet face. He stared into her eyes. “He’s bound to accuse us. We’ll just have to deny everything and hope we get away with it. It’ll probably be rough; you’ve seen what he can do. If we can hold out it’ll be worth it, let’s hope the chip is important enough to hold him up.”

Walsh nodded. “It’s the most complicated of that batch, it must make a difference.” She kissed him back. “Come on, let’s get to the house.”

Chapter 40 New Chapter

CHAPTER 40

            As they reached the top of the steps, their progress was being carefully watched. A soldier lay concealed in the bushes a quarter of a mile away. His clothes were dappled dark green and brown, perfectly matching the bushes where he lay. His face was covered in dark green and black stripes. A dark woollen hat covered his head. From ten feet away, he was nearly invisible. In front of him lay a Barrett 82A1 sniper rifle, fitted with a large telescopic sight. Accurate to nearly 2000 yards, it fired a 50-calibre bullet that would shatter the engine block of a car. Moss was taking no chances. If he decided Bodley was to be stopped, he wanted him stopped dead, giving him no chance of retaliation. The soldier held the rifle to his eye, swinging it slowly round on its bipod as he kept the two figures in his sights. He spoke quietly into his throat mike.

“Alpha three, Ramsey and Walsh have just reached the top of the steps. No sign of Bodley yet. If he follows his schedule, he should be up in the next half hour.”

Further round the hill, another man lay in the bushes.

“Alpha two, I have them, they’re going into the house.”

Dotted round the hill, four men watched Ramsey and Walsh until they entered the house and were lost to sight. Almost as one, they swung their rifles to the top of the steps to wait for Bodley to appear. They spoke quietly into their throat mikes, their messages transmitted to the Beta team hidden in the trees some two miles distant.

The next day, Ramsey and Walsh dived down to the ship full of apprehension. They thought they had a couple of days before the missing chip would be discovered but there was always a chance Bodley had checked the components while they were away. They walked warily into the workshop where Bodley, as usual, was waiting for them.

There was no greeting or formalities, Bodley began issuing orders as soon as he saw them.

“Before you put anymore boards together, you’ll have to run some wiring from here to the control room.” He pointed to a coil of insulated copper wire lying on the floor. “Use that. You won’t be able to run the wires in their channels, their not accessible; you’ll have to take them up the stairs. Secure the wiring to the handrail.” He threw a large measuring tape to Ramsey. “Measure the distance with that; leave about three metres extra on each cable.”

Walsh looked at the coil. “Where do we start measuring from?”

Bodley opened a panel set into the wall of the fusion room. Inside was a row of pins with blackened wires hanging from them. He tapped the pins.  “Start from here. You need eighteen cables. Put a number above each pin and number the wires at each end” He slid a box across the bench.  “There’re terminals in this box. Solder them on each end of the wire. Take the old wires off these pins, and fix the new wires in their place, number to number. I’ll do the other end”

            Ramsey stood by the panel as Walsh backed away unreeling tape, carefully working out the path the cable would have to take. Once they reached the end of the tape, they marked the point and started again. They reached the top of the stairs and measured along the corridors to the control room.

“What do you make it,” said Ramsey.

Walsh consulted her notes. “Twenty-six metres to the door.” She looked around for Bodley who was working inside one of the panels. “How far inside do we go,” she asked.

Bodley withdrew his head and stood up. “Take it to this central panel,” he said, pointing. “Then add three metres.” He turned and crawled back inside the panel opening.

Walsh looked at Ramsey and shrugged, still unused to Bodley’s abruptness. She finished her measurements and they returned to the workshop.

“I think we’ll do one first, just to make sure we’ve got the measurements right,” said Walsh reflectively. She was thinking what happened last time they’d made a mistake.

Ramsey nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, right.” He reached for the coil of wire and began unrolling it. The terminals were large and round with a neck that had to be crimped onto the wire. After measuring out the wire, they crimped and soldered a terminal to each end. By mid-afternoon, they had the first cable snaking its way up the stairs to the control room. Ramsey laid it out along the floor. Bodley walked over to him.

“What number is that?” he asked abruptly.

Ramsey pointed to the masking tape wrapped round the end. “Number one.” A thought occurred to him. Which direction did Bodley count from? He sat up. “We started counting from the left hand side of the box; I don’t know if that’s how you people do it.”

Bodley nodded. “As it happens, we don’t. Not that it makes any difference. As long as I know which cable is which.” He paused looking first at the cable and then at the control panel. “All right, get on with it. You’ve seventeen more to lay.”

            They spent the rest of the day cutting the wires to length and soldering on the terminals. The next morning they bolted the wires to the pins and started pulling the heavy bundle up the stairs, tying it down to the handrail as they went. It was late afternoon before they reached the control room. Ramsey pulled the bundle through the door and laid it across the floor. Ramsey suddenly felt cold. As he laid the wires out, it was immediately apparent that one of them was shorter than the others. Walsh looked at the wires then at him, the colour draining from her face. Bodley appeared beside them, took one look and pounced on the wire.

“Who measured this,” he screamed. He held the end of the wire in his hand, waving it in front of their faces.

“I did,” began Walsh. She held out her hands in supplication. “We’ll do it again, we’ve plenty more wire.” She backed away as Bodley stared at her. “Please,” she whispered.

“You stupid primitive,” screamed Bodley. “I need the rest of this wire for something else.” He threw the end of the wire at Walsh, the heavy terminal striking her on her face. She instinctively flung up her arms to protect herself. Whether Bodley mistook Walsh’s upraised arms for an attack on him, or he’d decided to punish her anyway, Ramsey couldn’t decide. Whatever the reason, Bodley’s reaction was extreme. His eyes locked on Walsh. To Ramsey the next few seconds passed in what seemed slow motion. Walsh buckled at the knees, clutching her stomach, her mouth open in a silent scream. Bodley stood over her as she sank to the floor. Ramsey reacted instinctively, all reason gone, as he launched himself forward. Bodley, sensing his movement, half-turned to meet him as Ramsey’s hand, held rigid as a piece of wood, struck his throat. It was a killing blow that would crush a man’s larynx into his windpipe. Ramsey had practised the move many times in the gym, never allowing his hand to contact his opponent. This time he held nothing back, putting all of his thirteen and a half stone behind the blow. Bodley let out an explosive gasp and half sank to his knees. Ramsey spun on one foot, his leg lashing out. His heel hit Bodley on the side of his face, snapping his head to one side. He crashed to the floor, his hands and feet moving fitfully. Ramsey stood over him and kicked down hard onto Bodley’s body. His heel sunk into Bodley’s stomach under the vee of his ribs. He was aiming to paralyse his diaphragm. If Bodley’s body was anything like a human, he would be fully occupied for the next hour trying to snatch one painful breath after another. Bodley twitched convulsively and lay still. Ramsey rushed over to Walsh and pulled her to her feet.

“Quick,” he panted, “I don’t know how long he’ll be out.”

Walsh looked at Bodley a feral look disfiguring her face. “Kill him,” she snarled.

Ramsey looked frantically round for a heavy object to smash in Bodley’s skull, a sharp edge to cut his throat, something, anything. There was nothing. He didn’t dare wait any longer. He half dragged half-carried Walsh out of the control room, her feet slipping and sliding on the smooth floor. They reached the lock and Ramsey spun the door open.

“No time to put on the dry suits,” he panted, “We’ll just use the bottles.” He picked up their gear stacked next to the door and pushed her set into her arms. “Are you up to it?”

Walsh nodded and hurriedly buckled on her breathing gear. They entered the lock and Ramsey shut the door. “Brace yourself,” he shouted and pressed the outer door release. The inrush of water as the outer door opened nearly knocked them over. The clung to the nets on the wall with one hand, the other clamping their masks to their faces as the swirling water threatened to rip them off. The shock of the freezing water almost paralysed them; they gripped their mouthpieces between clenched teeth as the cold penetrated their clothes. Before the door was half-open, they pushed their way through and headed for the surface. The cold water quickly drained the strength from their bodies. They dragged themselves onto the platform, their muscles shuddering from cold and exertion. Walsh knelt on all fours, her head hanging. Ramsey pulled her up.

“We’ve got to move,” he said.

She nodded dumbly and dragged herself to her feet. They quickly unbuckled the harness of their breathing gear and dropped the bottles carelessly on the platform. They started climbing. The flight of steps looked endless but at last, they stumbled onto the level ground on top of the cliff. They slid down the slope to the lane, the mud coating their wet clothes and ran up the drive to where the van was parked. Ramsey wrenched the door open and searched frantically for the key. He opened the glove compartment, spilling its contents onto the floor. Finding nothing, he pulled down the sun visor, still nothing. He looked desperately down at Walsh who stood at the side of the van with her arms wrapped round herself shivering violently.

“Can’t find the keys,” he said.

“Disable it then,” said Walsh.

Ramsey nodded and opened the bonnet. He pulled the ignition leads from the distributor and stuffed them in his pocket. Together, they ran down the lane desperate to put as much distance between themselves and Bodley. Their only consolation was Bodley couldn’t come looking for them in the van. Ramsey felt the pressure of the leads in his pocket. As long as he had these, Bodley was on foot.

As they disappeared round the bend in the lane, Bodley appeared at the top of the steps. His throat and face were discoloured and bloody. He stopped and looked around, his eyes glittering with murderous rage.

Chapter 41 New Chapter

CHAPTER 41

Lieutenant Moss studied the man standing in front of him. Private Rice was a big man, made bigger by the clothes he was wearing. He wore a pair of faded corduroy trousers tucked into thick woollen socks. His heavy walking boots were old and scuffed. A less than clean anorak over a thick roll neck jumper completed his outfit. His backpack was lying on the ground next to him.

“Clothes are OK,” said Moss, “let’s see the pack.”

Rice squatted down and quickly touched the contents.

“Plate, mug, knife and fork set. Cooking pan with a fold away handle, camping stove with spare gas cartridge, one-man tent and sleeping bag. Spare clothes, plastic bottle of lemonade, maps, compass, tin opener, tins of food, some empty.” He looked up. “I’m a responsible walker, I take my rubbish home.”

Moss nodded in satisfaction. He held up a small canteen. “The water container.

You’re quite happy how to use it?” he asked.

Rice nodded. “I’ve tried it four times back at base. It worked perfectly every time.”

“Tell me again,” said Moss.

Rice took the canteen back and turned it over so Moss could see the base.

“That moulding mark in the plastic disguises the hole where the dart comes out. It’s armed by twisting the cap anticlockwise. I fire it by squeezing the sides.” He shook it gently. “The boys did a good job, even though the dart gun takes up most of the space, it still has room to hold some water.”

“It’s a one shot job, so you’re going to have to be bloody careful,” said Moss. “My advice is to take him when his back is turned. If he agrees to your request for water, he may lead you to the house. As soon as he turns his back on you, take him.”

Rice nodded slowly.

“You know the risk you’re taking; he might kill you as soon as he sees you. We’re gambling he’ll think if he gives you some water, he’ll be rid of you. He might not want to risk killing you. The other alternative is he’ll put you out like those coppers and have a good look at you. That’s the reason for all the detail. If he thinks you’re a genuine walker, he might let you wake up and go on your way.” He stood back, examining Rice again, his eyes noting every detail. “Right, let’s move to the lay-up position.”

            The squad lay in the bushes at the lay-up position for the rest of the day. As soon as it was dark, Rice and Hamilton slowly walked down the lane to the bend before the house. The night vision headsets they wore gave the lane a ghostly green radiance. They carefully avoided the overhanging bushes bordering the lane, treading carefully not to kick stones lying in their path. They moved in complete silence even covering their mouths with their gloved hands so the vapour from their breaths could not be seen. It had been drummed into them repeatedly; nothing must alert Bodley to their presence. A few yards before the bend, Rice pushed his way into the bushes at the side of the lane. He pulled off his night vision headset and it to handed Moss. In its place, he put on the tiny earphones of what looked like a personal radio CD player. Hamilton bent forward so his mouth was almost at Rice’s ear. He lifted the earpiece.

“Don’t forget to turn the radio off our channel as soon as you round the bend in the lane. There’s a Vivaldi four seasons CD inside all ready to go, make sure it’s playing when you meet Bodley.” He tapped the small box in Moss’s hand. “That’ll tell you when the door opens. We’ll tell you if it’s Bodley or the other two. If it’s Bodley, we reckon you’ll have about half a minute before he reaches the top of the steps, so don’t hang about. For Christ’s sake don’t forget to leave the box behind, we don’t want Bodley to find it on you.”

Rice nodded in the darkness. “I’ve got it; we’ve been over this a hundred times.”

Hamilton punched him lightly on the arm. “Well now you’ve been told a hundred and one times.” He paused, “Good luck.”

A second later, he’d vanished silently into the darkness.

            The man on the hillside suddenly tensed, the LED on the box in front of him had glowed briefly in the darkness. He pressed his night vision glasses to his eyes. It was still some hours from dawn and he could see movement at the front door of the house.

“Alpha two, Bodley’s moving.”

A reply came through his headset. Moss. “What about Ramsey and Walsh?”

“No sign of them, they don’t usually show until about half past eight.”

“Bodley’s earlier than that, but not this early. He’s changed his schedule. We can’t go in darkness, this morning’s a bust, I’ll tell Rice.”

Rice sighed when he received the news; he’d been waiting all night, preparing himself for what was probably the most dangerous assignment of his career. 

“Do you want me to pull back?” he asked.

“No, Bodley’s changed his routine, he might do it again. We’re moving some of our observation team so they have a better view of the top of the cliff. If Bodley comes back up, we’ll tell you when to go.”

Rice made a brief reply and settled himself comfortably back into the nest he’d made in the bushes. 

            It was late afternoon. The sun was low in the sky, its position visible through the haze of clouds. Rice’s radio alerted him.

“Ramsey and Walsh are at the top of the steps, they’re early. Get ready, Bodley may come up next.”

Rice gave a brief reply and rose to his knees.  He crawled out of the bushes and ghosted down the lane to a point just before the bend. He pressed his earphones closer to his head as the observation team spoke to him.

“Something’s wrong, they’ve both run to the van, Ramsey’s inside. Hold it, he’s got out, he’s opened the bonnet. Now he’s ripped the leads from the engine. They’re coming down the lane towards you. It looks like they’re making a run for it.”

Rice shrank back into the bushes as he heard the pounding of feet.

“Bodley’s at the top of the steps now, his face is covered in blood. Looks like our friends have had a go at him. He’s down the bank going towards the van. He’s seen the open bonnet. He’s running down the lane after them.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Rice, wishing he were armed.

Moss came onto the net. “Stay out of sight, forget about the darting. It looks like Bodley’s out for blood. I don’t think those two will survive if he catches them. Alpha squad put your guns on him; tell me when you have a clear sight.”

            Ramsey and Walsh ran down the lane, their muddy wet clothes flapping in the cold air. They rounded the bend, passing Rice without even knowing he was there. A hundred yards further on there was another bend in the lane.

“Once we get round that, we’ll leave the lane and make for those trees over there,” panted Ramsey.

Walsh nodded, to drained to talk. He stomach was hurting, the pain growing with every step she took. She stumbled, catching Ramsey’s arm for support. Ramsey took a quick look at her, then did a double take. He face was white as chalk, her eyes screwed up in pain.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Walsh clutched her stomach. “Hurts,” she gasped. She staggered to a stop, hanging on to Ramsey.

Ramsey looked desperately behind him. “We’ve got to get out of this lane; can you make it to the trees?”

Walsh nodded jerkily. “I’ll try.”

Ramsey put his arm round her waist and together they staggered towards the bend. They’d only gone a few yards when Walsh doubled over, almost pulling Ramsey down with her. Walsh looked up at him, a smear of blood tricking down her chin. She shook her head. “Can’t,” she whispered.

“Christ, what did Bodley do to you,” hissed Ramsey. He bent down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He started a steady trot down the lane. Walsh, looking over his shoulder, tapped him on his arm.

“Bodley,” she whispered.

Ramsey whirled round. The stick like figure of Bodley was advancing steadily down the lane towards them. A mixture of emotions flooded through Ramsey. Fear, rage and frustration, swept through him as he lowered Walsh gently to the ground. He stood in front of her, stiff legged with his fists clenched. He knew this was a futile gesture; he’d never get the chance to strike Bodley again. He braced himself and waited.

            The alpha squad followed the events through their telescopic gun sights.

“Alpha three, Walsh is down, I can see blood coming from her mouth. I think they’ve had it. Bodley is about twenty yards from them.”

“Do you have a clear shot at him,” snapped Moss. “Call out.”

The first soldier checked the scene through his scope. Ramsey and Walsh were directly in line with Bodley. If he fired, his bullet would pass right through his target into the two fugitives. “Alpha one, no clear shot,”

The second soldier hissed through his teeth. Bodley had moved round the curve of the lane, only the top of his head was visible. “Alpha two, no clear shot.”

“Alpha three, clear.”

“Alpha four, clear.”

 The seconds ticked by. “Still clear?” asked Moss.

“Alpha three, clear.”

“Alpha four, clear.”

Moss made up his mind. “Take him.”

The two shots came so close together it seemed that one was an echo of the other. To Ramsey, it seemed as if Bodley’s chest exploded in a spray of red. The bushes in front of Bodley bucked wildly as the bullets ploughed into the branches after passing through his body. He pitched forward onto his face and lay still, his arms flung out by the force of the bullets. Ramsey looked wildly around in disbelief.

Walsh struggled to her knees. “What happened,” she asked.

Ramsey sank down beside her. “Someone shot the bastard. Don’t move, let them come to us.” He put his arm round her shoulder and hugged her to his chest.

They didn’t have to wait for long. A hiker emerged from the bushes and trotted down the lane towards them. He knelt down beside Walsh and lifted her chin. She coughed and a bubble of blood formed on her lips. He spoke urgently into a throat mike.

“Get a medic down here fast.”

He rose to his feet and walked over to Bodley. Ramsey watched with dull eyes as the hiker turned Bodley over. He spoke into his throat mike again. Ramsey couldn’t hear what he was saying but he didn’t really care. From where he was sitting, he could see Bodley wasn’t going to bother them again. The front of his chest was a red ruin, his shirt rapidly turning red as his blood soaked into it.  He turned his head as he heard footsteps behind him. A squad of soldiers appeared round the bend in the lane and ran up to them. One of them squatted down in front of Ramsey.

“My name’s Moss, you’re safe now.” He stood up, lifting his head as two helicopters appeared over the trees. Moss looked down at Walsh. “We’ll get you to hospital straight away.” He turned to Ramsey. “You too.”

Ramsey lifted his hand in thanks.  Moss stared at him, his dark eyes boring into Ramsey’s.

“Is there really a space ship down there?” he asked quietly.

Ramsey nodded.

“A space ship and you two have been inside it?”

Ramsey nodded again, too emotionally drained to speak.

Moss whistled quietly to himself. “Jesus Christ on a crutch,” he whispered.

            The roar of the helicopters landing in the field next to the lane drowned out further conversation. Men pushed their way through the hedge and lifted Walsh onto a stretcher. A tube attached to a bag of plasma was deftly inserted into her arm and she was carried back to the helicopter.

Moss held out his hand to Ramsey. “Come on, you too.”

Ramsey rose to his feet. “How long,” he asked.

Moss caught his meaning. “We’ve had you under observation for three days now. We were going to take Bodley this evening if we had the chance. You two rather hurried events along for us.”

Ramsey gave a brief smile. He watched as Bodley’s body was zipped into a plastic bag and carried into the other helicopter. He pushed his way through the trampled hedge and had one foot on the helicopter boarding ladder when he felt the ground move under his feet.

Moss whirled round. “What the hell….”

The sound of the explosion came a second later. A column of water rose into the air. Rocks and debris rained down on the house, the staccato clatter as they punched holes in the tiled roof deafening them for a moment.

“Get in quick,” snapped Moss. He pushed Ramsey inside and quickly followed him. He shouted to the pilot. “Move.”

They took off and circled the house. A giant bite had been taken out of the cliff reaching almost back to the house. Below the cliff, the sea was boiling.

Moss turned to Ramsey. “Was that where the ship was?”

Ramsey nodded slowly.

Moss shook his head.  “The bastard’s beaten us after all. I wonder how he did that?”

He turned back to the window. “Not your worry, at least not for the time being.” He stared down at the cliff and the rubble surrounding the house. “It’s going to take a lot of digging to find anything down there.” he said quietly.

The helicopters climbed into the sky and flew south. When they had been flying for a few minutes, they passed two helicopters making for the house. Ramsey watched them until they were out of sight. He turned back to Moss, his eyebrows raised in a question.

Moss nodded at the window. “Scientists,” he said shortly. “They were waiting for our call. That place is going to be the most closely examined area in the country. They’re going to be disappointed when they get there. I don’t know if you realise it but you two are going to become the very important people. Now the ship’s gone, you’re the only ones that know anything about it.”

Chapter 42 New Chapter

                                                    CHAPTER 42

            Walsh’s face broke into a smile as Ramsey appeared in the doorway. Leaving the two army escorts in the corridor, he shut the door and walked over to her bed. She held out her arms.

“Duncan,” she whispered. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Ramsey sat on the bed, leaned over, and kissed her.

“How are you Deb?”

Walsh winced as she moved in the bed. “Still sore, they haven’t taken my stitches out yet.”  She paused. “That bastard Bodley nearly tore my stomach in half.”

Ramsey stroked her hair. “Thank Christ you’re all right now.” He stared down at her. “We’d never have made it to the trees would we?”

Walsh solemnly shook her head. “I didn’t realise just how bad I was until we started running.” She grabbed his arm, brightening. “Never mind that, I’ve been out of touch, what happened to Bodley and the ship. The army doctors don’t know anything, and a man called Cass has told me not to ask anyway.”

Ramsey nodded, his face breaking into a frown. “Cass. Yeah, I’ve spoken to him too. He’s a tight-mouthed bastard, he wouldn’t tell me anything.  Forget about Bodley, he’s had it. All I know about the ship, it blew up. I only know that because I was outside the helicopter at the time. I’ve been out of touch in a safe house for the past week. Cass finally turned up this morning. All he would say was you were well enough to receive visitors. He laid a car on for me and said I could spend some time with you before he talks to us, which I suppose was decent of him. He’s said he’s coming to see us this afternoon. When he gets here maybe we’ll learn something.”

They sat for the rest of the afternoon taking pleasure in each other’s company, quietly talking, making tentative plans for the future. As evening was drawing on, Ramsey heard a noise outside the window. He rose from the bed and looked out. The army base appeared quiet apart from a large car drawing up outside the medical block. He knew that was an illusion. He’d seen the armed guards patrolling when he’d arrived but they were invisible in the evening shadows. He looked back over his shoulder.

“Looks like Cass is here at last,” he said.

Cass came into the room a few minutes later. He took off his coat and threw it onto the end of the bed. He pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down, nodding at Ramsey and Walsh. He took out a pipe.

“Would it bother you if I smoke?” he asked Walsh, “I think better with a pipe in my mouth.”

Walsh nodded; smiling with amusement at Cass’s request, considering this man was in complete control of them. “Open the window a bit.”

Ramsey hurried to obey. He sat back down on the bed and watched quietly as Cass filled his pipe. After a few minutes, aromatic smoke filled the air. Cass waved his match to extinguish it.

“Couldn’t do this in a normal hospital, you know.” He paused gathering his thoughts.

“I expect you’d like to hear what we’ve found out about Bodley.” He held up his hand. “Oh, I know that’s not his real name, we’ll probably never find that, but for the sake of convenience we’ll call him that.” He stared at the ceiling for a moment, gathering his thoughts. To Ramsey’s eyes, he looked like somebody’s favourite uncle about to tell a story to his nephews and nieces. Ramsey realised behind the bland features was mind like a steel trap, mediocre minds don’t rise to the top echelons of the security service.

“Bodley was an anatomist’s nightmare,” began Cass. “Funnily enough with his clothes on looked like any other human being, a very thin one, but well within the bell shaped curve of human morphology.  We put him through a scanner before opening him up so we’d have a record of his insides and that gave us the first inkling of just how alien he was. Once we’d opened him up, the differences really became obvious. I had a look when he was on the table. They’d opened him up like a filleted fish, bloody organs all over the place, some we can identify others we can’t. We’re working on that but it’ll take some time before we know what’s what. The fact he was shot twice didn’t help of course.” He paused, staring fixedly at Walsh and Ramsey. “The PM didn’t like that, he wanted him taken alive.”

Ramsey stirred on the bed. “Yeah, well the PM can stuff it. It was him or us. I’m bloody glad the soldiers decided it was him.”

Cass frowned. The atmosphere in the room seemed to cool rapidly.

“Do you think he’s a case of parallel evolution,” said Walsh, trying to reduce the tension that had suddenly entered the conversation. “The fact he looked so much like us suggests that.”

Cass relaxed and shook his head. “No. If you’d seen his insides you’d realise he was nothing like us at all. I’m told with great authority the fact he resembled us outwardly is pure coincidence, happenstance or whatever. He’s got no kneecaps for instance. Half way down the body the doctors found what appeared to be the degenerate remnants of  a pair of limbs. You find the same sort of thing in whales I’ve been told. In Bodley’s case it strongly suggests he evolved from a six legged animal.”

Ramsey raised his eyebrows and whistled quietly through his teeth. “Six legs?”

Cass nodded and continued.  “Did you notice how he held his head, was it pushed forward for instance?”

Walsh slowly nodded. “Yes I did. I just took it to be part of his aggressive nature, how did you know that?”

“His spine entered his skull at an oblique angle,” replied Cass. “It was nearer to an ape than a man. More evidence that his early ancestors walked horizontally on six legs. It appears he hadn’t evolved as fast as us humans, our spines enter the skull from underneath so our heads sit upright. As I said, any resemblance to us was purely coincidental.”

Cass paused for a moment to let the two absorb his news.

 “Of course one of the biggest difference was that paranormal power of his. One of our main objectives is to find out the source of that power. We may be getting somewhere with that. We’ve found electronic components in his chest, they were smashed to pieces by the bullets but there are definite linkages between them and his brain. The current thinking is if he had paranormal powers, they were very weak. The electronics in his chest were used to amplify his brain waves to the point where he could act directly on objects outside his body.” He puffed gently on his pipe. He took it from his mouth and gazed for a moment at the glowing tobacco in the bowl. He waved his hand. “That theory may change as we learn more about him of course.”

Walsh nodded slowly. “That makes more sense than it being a purely natural talent. We can pick up brain waves with an electroencephalogram, if we knew which waves to use, we could maybe amplify them and transmit them so they would affect other peoples’ brains.”

Cass nodded. “Thereby controlling their bodies.”

Ramsey shifted on the bed. “I don’t know, I think there’s more to it than that. He closed my throat a couple of times, controlling my brain couldn’t do that, could it? And what about Debbie? He nearly tore her stomach in half. Whatever method he used, it was a real power. We know; we’ve had first hand experience of it.”

Cass smiled round the stem of his pipe. “As I said, nothing’s set in concrete; we’ll be developing and changing our theories for years yet.” He leaned forwards. “We have made some progress though. We’re sure we know why the ship blew up. As I said, we scanned him before opening him up and the scan showed two small objects in his neck. Investigation revealed two capsules about as big as my little finger attached to bones in his neck. An artery ran right next to one of the capsules and a loop of some sort of plastic tubing came from the artery, through the capsule and back into the artery. The medics called it a shunt I think. Inside the capsule, the tube divided into two separate tubes before rejoining before it came out of the capsule. Inside the tubes, we found two small metallic rods. Being inside the loops, they had their own blood supply and were connected together with thin wires. More wires were connected to the other capsule on the other side of his neck. The science boys are convinced these rods acted like electrodes. In effect, Bodley was a human battery with his blood providing the electrolyte. When they dismantled the second capsule, they found it was a transmitter of sorts. The theory is; the battery provided a sensor current to the transmitter. When his heart stopped beating, his blood circulation stopped and the electrodes lost their flow of electrolyte. The sensor current to the transmitter was cut off. They’re sure that sent a signal to a self destruct device in the ship.” He shook his head. “Pity, we could have learned a lot from that ship.”

“He said six of his crew were killed before he crashed,” said Ramsey. “I wonder if they were wired up the same.”

“We’ll never know,” replied Cass. “It’s a thought though. If Bodley was the only one, their lives depended on Bodley’s continued good health. There’d never be a revolt with that hanging over them. It could be that Bodley and his type were a kind of elite who used their paranormal power to control and discipline the rest of the crew, the self destruct mechanism was a last resort.”

“I think that tells us something about the society he comes from, if they go to those lengths to prevent the ship from falling into the wrong hands,” said Ramsey.  “I can’t imagine our people being wired up as a human bomb before they’re allowed to pilot one of our jet fighters.”

Cass nodded slowly. He tapped the stem of his pipe on the side of his face. “We came to the same conclusion, though he wasn’t really a bomb, more like a trigger. Still, it’s an extreme measure to go to. We think he probably came from some sort of totalitarian society, the sort of thing the Nazis would dream up if Hitler had won the war, not a happy thought.”  He sat back in his chair. “I know you were worried he might bring his friends back here. Did he give you any hint of what brought him here in the first place?”

Ramsey and Walsh looked at each other. Both slowly shook their heads.

“I did ask him that the first time we met him,” answered Ramsey. “He nearly bit my head off. He said he wasn’t here from choice; he was stranded because his ship had a major power failure. I didn’t dare ask too many questions, we never knew what his reaction would be.”

“Hmm,” murmured Cass, “The thinking is he came upon us accidentally, it would have been nice to have that confirmed. Logically, if it had been a planned mission, others of his kind would have arrived to investigate his absence. For that reason, I don’t think an invading hoard of aliens like Bodley will descend on us. We’re pretty certain none of his kind knew he was here. Also, if he could have contacted them, he would have been rescued; he wouldn’t have sat here for over a hundred years. Meanwhile we have his technology to investigate. If we can reproduce it, that should give us an advantage if they do come in the future.”

“He had a fusion reactor on board,” said Walsh wistfully. “It was no bigger than a large van.”

Cass nodded. He pointed his pipe at Ramsey and Walsh. “That’s where you two come into the picture. We’re going to salvage everything we can from the wreckage but the destruction looks pretty complete. It won’t be easy, there’s several thousand tons of rock to move first, the explosion brought half the cliff down. It could take years before we’re sure we’ve found everything there is to be found. They’re building a coffer dam round the site of the explosion so they can pump the water out and work in the dry, it would be next to impossible to do a proper job under water. We’re pulling Bodley’s house apart of course, we’ve already found the addresses of two of his other houses, both under different names of course.”

Ramsey nodded. “He told us he had more than one house, you know about the one we visited don’t you. He used the name Richards at that one.”

Cass nodded. “Drake filled us in on that one. We don’t know how many he had, but we’ll keep looking, who knows what may turn up.” He paused, his head cocked to one side. “You two are going to be our only real source of information. You’ll have to put up with a thorough debriefing I’m afraid.”

“We’ll tell you what we know,” replied Walsh, “but we only saw part of the ship and we didn’t understand most of what we saw. We never even saw the engines so we have no idea how he used the power he had.”

Cass waved his hand. “We’ve got the list of things Drake had to buy for Bodley. With your help, we may be able to fit them together into something we can recognise. If you agree, we’ll use drugs and even hypnotism to help you remember. It might be a bit tough. Do you feel up to it?”

Ramsey grimaced. “Do we have a choice?”

Cass sat up in his chair. Don’t get me wrong, we need your co-operation. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say you two are the most important people in this country if not the planet. You’ll be treated like royalty, I guarantee that. The knowledge you have in your heads could be priceless.”

Ramsey looked at Walsh. She shrugged and looked up at Cass.

“Will we have freedom of movement? I mean to visit our families and the like,” she asked.

Cass sucked his pipe and slowly shook his head. “That could be a problem. I think for the time being you’d better stay out of sight. We’re setting up a research establishment in one of our bases in Sussex. It’ll be self-contained, it has a large house in the grounds where you’ll live. There’s barracks and a residential building for the scientists we’ll be sending there. Everything we find will be brought there. We’d like you to move in there when you’re better. You’ll have every comfort, everything you want will be provided for you. Like I said, royalty.”

“What about our jobs, we can’t just disappear,” asked Ramsey.

Cass waved his hand, dismissing the subject. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll provide good reasons to the police and the university for your leaving. Not the real reasons of course.”

Walsh sat up, wincing as she felt the pull of her stitches. “What about my cat, I can’t leave her.”

Cass smiled round his pipe stem. “Lucy Locket? I sure we can arrange for her to join you.”

“Lucy….” began Walsh hesitantly. “You know her name?”

Cass nodded. “I’m afraid we had to investigate you both very thoroughly. Not to worry, nothing bad emerged.”

With that casual remark, Ramsey and Walsh realised Cass must know everything about them. Their work, their private lives, everything.

“What about our families,” repeated Walsh. “Will we be able to see them? They’re going to wonder what on earth is happening if we’re whisked off to some country house somewhere.”

“Once we’ve impressed the need for secrecy on them and we’re sure they won’t talk, your close family will be able to visit you, but I’m afraid they won’t be told when those visits will occur. Every thing will be done at short notice, less chance of interference that way. One important point, we’d prefer it if you didn’t discuss anything concerning the ship with them. We also prefer it if you didn’t move outside the grounds.” He raised his eyebrows, inviting agreement.

Ramsey’s head came up. “Interference. What sort of interference? You’re starting to worry me now. Are we going to be confined to this house?

Cass shook his head. “Not confined, protected,” he said shortly. “The house is large and the grounds are extensive, you won’t fell constricted, I assure you. All the scientists on the project have been told if they so much as breathe a word about it, they’ll be denied any further involvement. They’re so keen, that threat alone is enough to keep them in line, let alone the penalties for breaking the official secrets act. Even so, word has got out. Not much, but enough to interest other parties. I expected it really; you couldn’t keep a thing like this secret for long. There are some countries that would give a lot to find out what you know; we have to protect you from them.”

A dawning realisation hit Walsh. “We could be kidnapped?” she whispered. “Are we in danger?”

Cass shook his head. “Not at the moment. Nobody outside a select few know your names but that can’t last for long. We’d like to get you safely tucked away before your names leak out. That’s why we won’t be giving your parents advance warning about their visits. Less chance of them being followed that way. They won’t know where you are, they’ll be transported in a closed van or something similar” He stared at them, his expression hardening for a moment. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell them your location.” He drew on his pipe, his features relaxing back to the bland look of a minor civil servant. He took the pipe from his mouth and cradled the bowl in both hands. “This is going to be a long term project. It’ll probably take years to disentangle the secrets of Bodley’s ship. After that, we’ll see. If we can make something of it, we’ll slowly release limited information to the public. You’ll be in no danger then except as celebrities; I expect you’ll be able to handle that.”

Ramsey and Walsh looked at each other. For the foreseeable future, it looked like their lives would be controlled by people like Cass. Ramsey frowned. The plans they’d made for the future had been swept aside. He didn’t like it but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He still didn’t like it though.

Chapter 43 New Chapter

CHAPTER 43

Ramsey and Walsh looked at each in anticipation as their car turned off the road into short drive, the suspension thumping as the car hit the ruts and potholes in the gravel. They had left the main road several miles back, turning into a succession of ever narrowing lanes, now it looked as if their journey was nearly over. Ahead of them a tall brick wall curved away either side of the drive as far as they could see. They stopped at a set of heavy iron gates. The car that had followed them from the army base, pulled up close behind them. The figure of an army sergeant was briefly visible through the window of a guard post set into the wall beside the gates. He moved from the window and appeared in the doorway. He stood for a moment, studying the cars, then stepped through the door and walked to the first car. He bent down at the driver’s window.

“Your passes and identification please.”

Stebbing wound down his window and passed a small pack of documents though the opening. The sergeant riffled through the pack, then peered into the front and back of the car, comparing the photographs on the papers with the car’s occupants. Without being asked, Stebbing passed the car keys to him. The car shook slightly as the boot was opened and after a short moment, slammed shut. The sergeant returned to the front of the car and passed the keys through the window.

The sergeant repeated the procedure with the other car and returned to Stebbing.

 “Thank you sir, you’re free to proceed.”

He signalled and the gates swung open. The car surged forwards, the tyres throwing up gravel. As they passed through the gates, Ramsey could see two armed soldiers inside the guard room following the cars with their eyes. Behind them, the gates swung ponderously shut, vibrating as they hit the stops set into the drive.

Ahead of them lay a drive bordered by tall trees. They had travelled less than half a mile when they came to another gate set into a wire fence topped with razor wire. The fence was obviously new, bare earth circled the posts where the grass had not had time to reclaim the ground.  A small building stood beside the gate. This too looked new, the wooden panels gleaming with preservative. A sergeant stepped out flanked by two armed soldiers. The papers were examined again and the gates opened to allow them through. Ramsey nodded back at the gate.

“They’re very thorough, are you expecting trouble?”

Pearson turned in the front passenger seat. “Not yet, there could be later though, when news of this gets out. We’re just taking precautions.”

Ramsey absorbed this news in silence. He glanced at Walsh sitting next to him and raised his eyebrows. She shrugged and moved her arm across the seat to hold his hand. Ramsey squeezed her hand in reassurance. Once past the gate, the road improved, smooth concrete replacing the gravel path. The two cars purred along the road, passing clumps of trees in a manicured landscape. Capability Brown, thought Ramsey sourly. They rounded a shallow hill and two hanger-like buildings became visible in the distance. Behind the hangers, the sun reflected off the windows of a large modern building. Next to the building, stood a row of barracks. The car continued down the road, leaving the buildings behind, finally stopping outside a large old house. The car trailing them swept round their car, drove round the house and was lost to sight. Pearson opened his door and stepped out. He opened the back door and ushered Ramsey and Walsh out.

“Welcome to Edgecliff House,” he said with a mock bow.

Ramsey looked up at the house. Timber frames studded the outside and decorated brick chimneys jutted from the roof. So this was to be their home for God knows how many years. He looked at Walsh.

“Could be worse,” he said.

“It looks Elizabethan,” said Walsh, “let’s hope the plumbing is not.”

The driver’s door slammed shut and Stebbing walked round the car.

“It is Elizabethan,” he said. “Dates from about fifteen eighty. Don’t worry, it’s been fitted out with all modern cons. You both should be very comfortable here.”

Ramsey looked around. “Edgecliff house, so where’s the cliffs?”

Stebbing waved his hand, encompassing the house and grounds. “All this belonged to the Edgecliff family. They’d been here since the year dot so I’ve been told. They got into difficulties with death duties just before the last war and the Government took over. During the war, SOE trained its agents here. After the war the government kept it. Now we use it.” He held out his arms, gathering them in. “Come on we’ll show you around.”

“Wait a minute,” said Walsh. She reached back into the car and lifted out a wire cage containing a black and white cat. Walsh looked up. “Mustn’t forget Lucy Locket.”

Stebbing led them through the front door into a large entrance hall. A wide staircase led to the upper floors. They followed Stebbing up the stairs to a corridor. A series of doors faced each other either side of the corridor.

Stebbing pointed to the first two doors. “These are yours. You have an apartment each with a connecting door between, you can make your own arrangements how you live, there’s a double bed in each apartment.”

Walsh looked at Ramsey and raised her eyebrows at Stebbing’s remark. Make your own arrangements, she thought, how discreet.

Ramsey smiled back at her and slowly shook his head in amusement. The security services obviously knew they were lovers, the investigations into their lives would have confirmed that.

Stebbing pushed the first door open and ushered them inside. The apartment was airy and spacious, with a bathroom and kitchen attached. Walsh put the cage down and opened the lid.

“I’ll leave her here to get used to the place while we look around the rest of the house.” said Walsh.

The cat jumped from the cage and started inspecting the furniture. Walsh looked on fondly.  She nodded. “She’ll be all right.” She grabbed Ramsey’s arm. “Come on, I want to see what the rest of the house is like.”

As they descended the stairs, Stebbing pointed back to the upper floor.

“There’s more apartments up there. Your bodyguards will live there. There’ll be two men rotated in three month shifts. Because of the time they’re likely to be here, they’re all single men with no families. You’ll meet them later.” He stopped on the stairs and fixed Ramsey and Walsh with a stare. “The only rule you must remember is not to go anywhere outside this house without at least one of them accompanying you.”

Ramsey nodded. “What about inside our apartments?”

“They’re for your own private use. You can’t lock the doors but no-one will come in unless you ask. There’s panic buttons in every room, if anything happens, you shouldn’t be more than a couple of feet from them wherever you are in the rooms.”

“Is all this really necessary?” asked Walsh. “This is starting to get a bit oppressive, not what I imagined it would be like at all.”

Stebbing shrugged. “It won’t be as bad as it sounds. The men protecting you will be discreet, they won’t be treading on your heels. As long as you tell them if you’re going outside and they can keep you in sight, they’ll be satisfied.”

They continued down the stairs to the hall. One door led to a large dining room. They walked passed the long table that almost filled the room to a door at the end of the room. This opened to the kitchen. Three cooks looked up as they entered and nodded to the party.

“You can have meals sent up to your rooms or cook for yourselves,” said Stebbing, “Your choice. There’s a phone in each apartment if you want to order.”

They continued the tour of the ground floor. Many of the rooms were bedrooms for the staff, but along the back of the house a large conference room had been fitted out, complete with projectors and telephone conferencing equipment. A man busy connecting equipment gave them a brief wave as they stood in the doorway before returning to his work. Stebbing opened another door.

“Communications room,” he said briefly.

The room was filled with a large switchboard and computers. The equipment was recognizable, its purpose unclear. Three men seated at the computers looked up briefly as they entered the room. No introductions were made, and giving them a minute to gaze round the room, Stebbing led them back out. Further down the corridor was a comprehensive medical clinic.  From the reception room, they could see through the open doors to four bedrooms. Another door led to a large operating theatre, most of its equipment covered in drapes.

Walsh stepped back out of the clinic and looked back at Stebbing.

“I hope we won’t be needing that,” she said.

Stebbing pulled the door shut. “ It’s only been four weeks since your operation. I know the doctors said you were fit enough for the journey, but we can’t take chances. Anyway, it’s not only for you, we have a large staff here.” He pulled open another door. The room was filled with soft couches and chairs. Low coffee tables were scattered among the chairs. “Both of you will be spending a lot of time here. This is where the de-briefing will be held. We have a team of scientist and doctors who will interview you.”

“Doctors?” queried Ramsey.

Stebbing nodded. “We may ask you to submit to drugs or hypnotism to help you remember details you may have forgotten, we have to get all the information we can.”

Walsh nodded slowly. “Oh yes, I remember Mr. Cass saying something about that.” She looked at Stebbing. “When is all this going to start?”

“Next week sometime. We’ll give you a few days to settle in, the rest of the staff haven’t arrived yet.” 

Two men emerged from a room at the end of the corridor. They were both in their thirties and casually dressed. Both had bulges under their jackets.

“These are your bodyguards for the first few weeks,” said Stebbing. He introduced them. “Ray Coffey and Ian Sumpter, remember their faces.”

Ramsey and Walsh briefly shook hands. The two men nodded and walked down the corridor to the stairs.

“They’re settling in to their own apartments,” said Pearson. “You can get to know them better later.”

“Were they were in the car following us?” asked Ramsey.

Pearson nodded.

“Do they know who we are?”

“They’ve both been briefed,” replied Pearson. “The most important thing they know is both your lives are more important than theirs. Both those men would literally die for you if anything threatened your safety.”

Ramsey whistled through his teeth. “Bloody hell, are you really expecting things to get that serious.”

Stebbing waved his hand in dismissal. “Just taking precautions, chances are, you’ll both spend a peaceful few years here and then you can return to your normal lives.”

Walsh rubbed her eyes. “Can we go back to our rooms now, I’m tired after that long drive, I’d like to rest for a while.”

Stebbing was all concern. “Yes, of course you can, you can see the rest of the house and the workshops later.”

Walsh smiled at him and took Ramsey’s arm. As they walked towards the stairs, Stebbing and Pearson started to follow them. Walsh turned. “It’s all right Mr. Stebbing, we know the way.”

As soon as they were in the room, Walsh turned to Ramsey, gripping his arm.

“Duncan, I don’t like this at all. Did you notice both those bodyguards had guns under their jackets and I’m sure I saw armed soldiers in the grounds. This place is like a prisoner of war camp and we’re the prisoners.”

Ramsey held her in his arms and rubbed his hands up and down her back, soothing. “Yeah, I noticed the guns. There’s not much we can do about it Deb. They certainly won’t let us out of here, not yet anyway. We’ll just have to make the best of it. With a bit of luck, once they realise how little we know, they’ll let us go.”

Walsh disengaged herself from Ramsey’s arms. She shrugged. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She headed for the kitchen. “Let’s see if they’ve stocked up, I could do with a cup of tea.”

Ramsey smiled to himself. The old British standby. In times of crisis, out comes the teapot.

Chapter 44 New Chapter

CHAPTER 44

Ramsey and Walsh stood at the entrance of the building and peered into the gloom. The building was large with a lofty curving roof. Stebbing snapped switches by the door and a triple row of fluorescence lights flickered on. They walked inside, their footsteps echoing round them. Benches lined the walls with racks of tools above them. At one end, scaffolding lay in an orderly heap.

Ramsey looked round. “This looks like an aircraft hanger.”

“It is,” replied Stebbing. “Remember I told you they trained SOE agents here during the war. They used to keep Lysander aircraft here to fly the agents into occupied Europe. We’re not far from the south coast here, just right for a quick trip across the channel.”

Walsh looked back out of the doorway. “How did they take off, there’s no trace of a runway.”

Stebbing pointed to a flat grassy area in front of the hanger. “They used a grass runway. That’s why they used Lysanders, they could take off and land on any flat field. Very short takeoff and landing. Very good machines for their day.”

“Ancient history now,” said Pearson. Now we’ve got another use for the buildings.” He waved his arms at the interior. “This is where most of the work will be done trying to reassemble the wreckage of the ship. They’ll use the same principles as aircraft accident investigators. The big problem is, in those sort of investigations, the technicians know the identity of the crashed plane, they know what goes where. They’ll be working at a real disadvantage this time because they won’t have a clue what the thing should look like. That’s where you two will come in.”

“We told you, we didn’t see much of the inside,” said Walsh.

“And the only bit of the outside we saw was a weed covered hump,” added Ramsey.

“You’ll be surprised what you remember when you’re questioned by experts,” replied Pearson. “Still, that’s not our problem, we’ll leave that to the scientists.”

They walked back outside, the summer sun warm on their faces. The two bodyguards trailing some distance behind them.

“What about the other hanger,” asked Ramsey. “What goes on in there?”

“Same sort of thing,” replied Stebbing. “The smaller parts will be assembled over there. Once they’ve got something they can work with, it’ll be brought over here for assembly into the main structure. I don’t envy them that job, it’ll probably take years before we’ve got anything.”

“How long are you two going to be here?” asked Ramsey.

Stebbing smiled and shook his head. “Not that long. A couple of weeks. Once the scientists arrive, we’ll be off. We’ll be turning up regularly after that.” He paused. “I for one will be glad to get back home, I miss my wife’s cooking.” He said the last sentence with the weary expectation of the reaction he’d receive at this revelation.

Walsh raised her eyebrows, “You’re married?”

Stebbing smiled and nodded. “Six years now. Why should that surprise you. I have a perfectly normal home life. We’re not like those agents that jet off all round the world. We’re internal security, we’re strictly home boys.”

Walsh shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know what I thought. I just assumed you security people lived different lives to the rest of us.”

Stebbing shook his head. “Usually it’s just boring routine. Most of the time we go home at five o’clock like everyone else. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever dealt with. I think Gary will confirm that.”

“Gary?” queried Ramsey.

Pearson tapped his chest. “Me, we do have first names you know.”

Ramsey smiled. “Sorry. It never occurred to me you’d tell us anything about yourselves. You’d always be Mr. Stebbing and Mr. Pearson, two mysterious men who showed up and changed our lives.”

“Not so mysterious,” replied Pearson. “Anyway, as we’ll be turning up from time to time. I think it’s time we got on to first name basis.” He held out his hand. “I’m Gary, that moody character walking next to you is John.”

Ramsey and Walsh shook their hands.

“You know our first names of course,” said Ramsey.

Stebbing nodded. “You two caused us both many sleepless nights. You may not realise it, but there’s a file a mile thick on both of you. We had to help gather the information, compile it, then read through the lot to make sure it was accurate.”

“I’d like to read that,” said Ramsey thoughtfully.

“No chance of that,” replied Stebbing. “I wouldn’t worry though, it’s got nothing in it that you don’t know already. If you put you mind to it, you could put  a file together for yourself, it’s basically just your life history.”

“There must be more to it than that,” interrupted Walsh. “Weren’t you checking to make sure we weren’t dangerous subversives or dodgy characters?”

Stebbing nodded. “Of course. You’re both intelligent people, what did you expect?”

Ramsey thought for a moment. He turned to Stebbing. “Just out of curiosity, what would you have done if you found we were a couple of communists, or members of some lunatic right-wing organisation?”

Stebbing was quiet for a moment. Finally he looked up.

“The arrangements would have been roughly the same as now. Security would have been much tighter and your rooms would undoubtedly be wired.”

Walsh’s eyes widened. “Our rooms, bugged? They’re not are they?”

Stebbing hesitated for just a moment. “I promise you they’re not. We know from your files you’re both reasonable people. We need your co-operation. If we told you there were no listening devices in your rooms and then you found some, I presume any thought of co-operation would go out of the window.”

“Bloody right,” said Ramsey. “You guarantee there’s nothing in our rooms?”

Stebbing nodded. “Absolutely, as I said, If we’re going to get anywhere with rebuilding Bodley’s ship, we need your co-operation. We’ll go to almost any lengths to accommodate your wishes. We want you feel comfortable here.” He cut the air with his hand, a decisive gesture. “Definitely no bugs in your rooms.”

He was interrupted by the bleep of his mobile phone. He walked away from the group and talked quietly for a few minutes. He put the phone away and walked back to rejoin them.

“Sorry about that, just routine.”

Pearson cleared his throat. “The de-briefings will be different. There’ll be a continuous record of anything said in that room, but you would expect that of course.”

“That’s different,” replied Walsh. “I can understand that. Our private rooms are another thing all together, you can understand why I was concerned.”

“Of course,” replied Pearson. “Anyway, with Duncan’s police training and your expertise in electronics, we wouldn’t be so foolish to tell you your rooms were clean and then wire them for sound. We couldn’t risk you finding a microphone. No matter how carefully hidden they are, they can be uncovered with a determined search.”

“You’re a sneaky bunch of bastards,” smiled Ramsey. “You’ve virtually admitted that if we’d been ordinary people with no knowledge of electronics or surveillance, you might have bugged our rooms.”

Stebbing smiled sheepishly. “You’re probably right. Conversations in the rooms might have given us information that wouldn’t have come out in de-briefing. Anyway, that doesn’t apply to you two. You both know what we want, I don’t think you’ll hold anything back, will you?”

They both shook their heads.

The path had led them to the other end of the hanger. It divided at this point, one way led to the second hanger, the other led towards the house, visible in the distance through the trees.

“Do you want to look at the other hanger while we’re here?” asked Stebbing.

“Yeah, sure, why not,” replied Ramsey. “You OK with that Deb?”

Walsh nodded, “Yes, It’ll be interesting to see what they’ve got in there.”

The interior was different from the first hanger. The floor area was nearly covered with large benches. On tables, along one wall, the blank faces of computer monitors stared back at them. The room was empty of people, the bare tables reminded Ramsey of a mortuary.

“Can we go back to our rooms now?” asked Walsh. “We like to have something to eat.”

“You can go anywhere you like,” replied Stebbing, “we just though you’d like to see the layout of the facilities here.” He paused. “The cooks have prepared a special dinner for you as it’s your first day here. I think they’d be disappointed if you didn’t eat in the downstairs dining room. They’ve laid on quite a spread for you.”

Ramsey and Walsh looked at each other.

“What do you think,” said Ramsey.

“We can’t disappoint the cooks,” laughed Walsh. “If we upset them, we could find pee in our drinks.”

Ramsey grimaced. “Uggh, what a mind you’ve got.”

He turned to Stebbing. “OK, tell the cooks we’ll be glad to accept their invitation.”

Stebbing pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and spoke briefly into it. “All done,” he said.

Stebbing and Pearson pulled the large doors shut. They left the hanger behind them and walked towards the house. Once inside, Ramsey and Walsh crossed the hall to the dining room. They stopped at the door and looked back. The two bodyguards were climbing the stairs to their rooms. 

“Are you coming in?” asked Walsh.

Stebbing turned on the stairs and looked down at them. “The dinners not for the hired help. We’ll see you later, enjoy your meal.”         

Leaving Stebbing and Pearson on the stairs, they entered the dining room where one of the cooks was waiting for them. He stepped forward.

“Are you ready to eat?”

They both nodded. The cook ushered them to the large table. Silver cutlery gleamed in the soft lights. Once they were seated, he produced a menu with a flourish.

“Ring the bell when you’re ready to order. He disappeared through a door to the kitchen.

They studied the menu, then looked at each other, almost overwhelmed at the display of food on offer.

“Perhaps it won’t be so bad here after all,” said Ramsey quietly.  

            Pearson and Stebbing waited on the stairs until Ramsey and Walsh were out of sight. As soon as the door shut behind them, they ran up the stairs to the bodyguard’s room next to Ramsey’s apartment. The two bodyguards were inside, waiting for them.

“Quick,” snapped Stebbing. “Round up the other men. You know what to do. You’ve got about an hour before they finish their meal. Both apartments have got to be clean before they come back up.”

The two nodded. “Yeah, we got the message, what happened?”

“Change of plan,” snapped Stebbing, “I’ll explain later.”

As the two men hurried from the apartment, Pearson looked at Stebbing ruefully.

“Big mistake John. You shouldn’t have mentions bugs at all.”

Stebbing sighed. “It just slipped out. I realised I’d dropped a bollock as soon as I opened my mouth. I knew we had to do something so I pressed my phone bleeper and pretended to take a call. The cooks complained like mad I’d given them no warning but when I explained the circumstances they jumped to it and arranged the dinner. I didn’t dare tell the other staff to start removing the bugs right away, all I could do was warn them to be ready to move. I didn’t know how long we could keep our guests in the second hanger. Also they might have wanted to go to their rooms before dinner. I tell you; I thanked my lucky stars when agreed they to go straight to the dining room and have their meal there.” He looked at the wall to the adjoining apartments. “The wall sockets and the phone are the only bugs in there, is that right?”

Pearson nodded.

Stebbing sat down with a thump, slumping into an armchair.

“Thank Christ for that. If they’d have found anything after what I said to them, God knows what would have happened.” He looked up. “They’ll search for them of course.”

Pearson nodded. “Of course they will. After this afternoons conversation, I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Chapter 45 New Chapter

CHAPTER 45

Ramsey and Walsh sat together on a settee, drawing pads and pencils on their laps. A large video camera  on a tripod stood in the corner of the room, ready to record every word and gesture. Arranged in a half circle in front of them were a group of scientists and engineers. Ramsey and Walsh had been introduced to so many people, and knowing they would be rotated through the house, they’d not even tried to remember their names. Their week of relaxation was over, now the scientists had arrived it was time to start work. One of the scientists lent forward in his chair.

“At last we meet. You’ve no idea how much I’ve looked forward to this. To talk to someone who has actually been on an alien ship.” He shook his head. “It’s almost unbelievable, a dream come true for me.” He paused. “Sorry, I’m forgetting my manners. I’m John Shapiro.”

Ramsey smiled. “You know who we are of course.”

Shapiro nodded and smiled back. He shuffled a pile of papers on his lap. He looked around at his companions.

“If everybody’s ready, we’ll make a start.” He turned to face Ramsey and Walsh. “Let’s start from the top. You said the ship was buried in the sea bed, can you describe what you could see?”

“I saw it first,” said Walsh. “It was a weed covered hump about eight feet high.”

“What were the other dimensions, it’s length and width. Can you estimate them?”

Walsh thought for a moment. “I suppose it was about fifteen feet wide and thirty feet long.” She turned to Ramsey for support.

Ramsey nodded. “That’s about right. It’s hard to estimate the length because of the weed. It just sort of merged into the sea bed.”

Shapiro made notes on his pad. “All right, now what about the airlock. Will you describe that for us please.”

“The door was about five feet square,” began Ramsey. “It was set vertically in the side of the ship.”

“You say vertically, was the hull vertical at that point?”

“Er, no,” replied Ramsey. He held his hands at a slight angle. “The side of the ship sloped towards the top, the top was rounded as far as I could see.”

“Could you both draw what you remember please.”

They picked up their pencils and quickly sketched the outline of the ship. They tore of their pages and passed them to Shapiro. He studied the drawings for a moment and nodded with satisfaction.

“I see, please go on. Describe the inside of the airlock.”

Walsh took up the explanation. “The lock was like a square box. I suppose it was about six feet on all sides. The outer door slid open from right to left looking from the inside. The inner door was smaller, say about five feet high by three feet wide. There was a wheel set in the centre of the door to lock it and there were other controls on a panel inside the lock to let the water in and open the outer door.”

One of the scientist sat up with a start. “You actually used the controls yourselves?”

“Oh yes, we used the lock quite a few times,” replied Walsh. “When we finished work for the day, we often left Bodley working in the ship. At other times he told us to go upstairs and dump stuff inside the lock and we’d do it.” She smiled grimly, remembering the times they had carried the lorry batteries and the wreckage from the fusion room up the stairs to dump into the airlock.

“He let you use the lock out of his sight and you never tried to escape while you was away from him?”

Walsh shook her head. “He told us he had complete control over us wherever we were. Believe me, if you’d seen what he could do, you’d obey him too.”

Shapiro interrupted. “We’ve all read the reports of Miss Walsh’s injuries. I think we can take it as read they were not willing participants. Shall we move on?”

The scientist coloured slightly and shuffled his papers in embarrassment. “Yes, I’m sorry if my remarks were taken… ah, erm, yes.” He sat back in his chair and nodded to Shapiro to continue.

Shapiro cleared his throat. “Let’s move to the inside of the ship. You said you walked down a sort of corridor. How long was that?”

Ramsey looked at Walsh. “What do you reckon Deb, about fifteen feet?”

She mentally paced the length of the gangway in her mind. “A bit more, say sixteen or seventeen feet.”

“And then you came to a flight of stairs. By the way, which way did the corridor go from the lock?”

“With our backs to the airlock, the corridor went off to our left,” replied Ramsey.

One of the engineers raised his hand for attention. “Where was the airlock door in relation to the part of the ship you could see. Was it in the middle or at one end.”

“Towards one end,” replied Walsh.

“I’m glad you confirmed that. If your estimate of thirty feet was correct about the length of the part you could see above the sea bed and the door was in the middle, and a corridor of sixteen or seventeen feet would put you outside the ship.”

Ramsey shook his head. “No, it was definitely at one end. As far as I can remember, there was just a wall on the right hand side of the lock. We couldn’t see too clearly the light was very dim.” He nodded at the drawings on the table in front of him. “We’ve shown it on the drawings.”

The engineer leaned forward and picked up one of the drawings. “Oh yes, I see. Sorry, I hadn’t seen that.” He put the drawing back on the table and shot a glance at Shapiro. “It might be better if you passed them round straight away, then we wouldn’t waste time on unnecessary questions.”

Shapiro muttered an apology.  “Can we go on?” he looked round the room. No-one spoke. “Good.” He turned in his chair, facing Ramsey and Walsh. “Can you tell us what was at the end of the corridor?”

“Steps going down,” replied Walsh. “Two flights of sixteen steps. There was a landing between the steps with corridors off to left and right.”

Shapiro bent to his pad again. “You’re sure of the number?”

Walsh looked at Ramsey and smiled. “Bloody right I am. We went up and down them enough times. I started counting the steps after a while. You know, only six more steps to go, only five more steps to go, and so on.”

“This was when you were taking damaged items up to the airlock for disposal.”

Walsh nodded.

How high was each step, can you remember?”

Walsh thought for a moment. “It’s hard to be sure. I know they were higher than normal steps. I had to lift my foot more than usual.” She looked to Ramsey for support.

Ramsey nodded agreement. “Yeah, I found that too. At first I was banging my foot on the riser until I remembered to lift my foot up higher. I suppose the two flights when down about thirty feet in all.”

A scientist from the end of the room stood up with a tape measure in his hand. “Could you demonstrate for us. Lift your foot about the same amount.”

Ramsey stood for a moment, thinking. Finally he raised his foot, holding on to his chair for support. “About there I think,” he said.

The scientist measured the distance from his foot to the floor and then turned to Walsh. She winced as the scientist knelt down in front of her and unreeled his tape measure.

“Be quick,” she gasped, “this is hurting my stomach.”

The scientist looked up. “Sorry, you can put your foot down now.”

Walsh lowered her foot to the floor with relief. The scientist sat back in his seat and gestured at his tape. “About thirty centimetres for Miss Walsh, thirty two for Mr. Ramsey. Let’s split the difference and call it thirty one.” He pulled a calculator from his pocket and pressed buttons.

“Two flights at sixteen steps, that’s thirty two steps. Multiply by thirty one to get the total number of centimetres…” He looked up. “That’s nine point nine two metres total. Does that sound about right?”

Ramsey though for a moment. “I don’t think in metres, would that would be about thirty feet?”

The scientist nodded. “Near enough,  about thirty two and a half feet.”

Ramsey nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

One of the engineers sat up. “You said you were banging your foot on the stair risers. Were these solid stairs?”

Ramsey shook his head. “No, they were made of a kind of expanded metal grid. If you imagine the sort of stairs and walkways they have in a big ship’s engine room, you have the picture. I thought at the time the stairways seemed familiar. I once worked on a ship, that’s why I thought I recognised them.”

“Is that relevant?” asked one of the scientists.

“I think so,” replied the engineer. “I think it indicates they were weight conscious. That implies they didn’t have unlimited power.” He turned back to Ramsey. “Did you see this grid on any other surfaces?”

“All the stairs and walkways were like it,” replied Ramsey. “The control room and the fusion room floors were solid. They were the only other rooms we saw.”

“And the workshop floor,” interrupted Walsh. “That was solid too.”

Ramsey nodded in agreement.   

Walsh sat up. “I’ve just remembered something. So far, all our measurements have been estimates. We have one definite measurement. It’s twenty six metres from the fusion room to the control room. I know we haven’t got that far but I thought I’d mention that in case I forgot it later.”

“How can you be so sure?” asked Shapiro.

Walsh grimaced. “We had to lay a cable from the fusion room up the first flight of stairs and along the corridor to the control room. It was twenty six metres. I remember the number very well. Bodley nearly tore my stomach in half because we’d made a mistake with the length of one of the cables.”

Shapiro nodded. “We heard you’d been injured, but we didn’t know the reason.” He stared at Walsh. “Are you all right to carry on, we don’t want to tire you out. We have plenty of time.”

Walsh shook her head. “No, I’m OK. It’s just when I lifted my foot, it put a strain on my stomach muscles. I’m still sore from the operation.”

He smiled back at her. “Right, we’ll carry on then.”

            The de-briefing had been going on for several hours when the door opened. Stebbing came into the room, looked around and lent over Shapiro’s chair. He spoke softly into his ear and went back to the door. Shapiro stood up.

“I’ve been requested to close the meeting for this morning.” He looked round at the group. “Has anyone any objections?”

They looked at each other, shaking their heads.

“I believe we may have been a bit selfish”, said Shapiro. “Miss Walsh has not long recovered from a major operation.” He turned to Walsh. “You’ll have to forgive us. We’re naturally keen to learn as much as we can. You and Mr. Ramsey are unique. Unlike other people who have claimed to have been inside an alien space craft, you have actually had that experience.”

Walsh accepted his apology with a wave of her hand.

The scientists and engineers collected up their notes and with a chorus of goodbyes, left the room. Ramsey and Walsh sat back in their chairs and looked at each other.

“Well, we can’t say we weren’t warned,” said Walsh. “We were told they would be thorough and they certainly were.”

Ramsey looked up at Stebbing who still stood in the doorway. “Do you decide how long these meetings go on for?”

Stebbing grinned. “Not really, I thought you’d have had enough for this morning as it’s the first day. How about some lunch.”

“Sounds good,” said Ramsey. “What about this afternoon, more de-briefings?”

Stebbing nodded. “Fraid so. You’d better get used to it,  It’s going to continue like this until they think they’ve got everything out of you. It’ll probably go on for years. As they re-assemble the parts, they’ll want to re-examine you to see if the parts they’ve put together bring back more memories. It’ll be an ongoing thing, as I said, years.”

Walsh sighed. She looked at Ramsey. “Well, as I said, we can’t say we weren’t warned.” She stood up and held out her hand to Ramsey. “Come on, let’s have some lunch.”

Chapter 46 New Chapter

CHAPTER 46

Ramsey and Walsh left the de-briefing room and wandered out into the grounds to get some fresh air. The meetings with the scientists and engineers had been going on for over two weeks and now the novelty of their situation had faded. It had almost become a comfortable routine. They walked to a seat in front of the house overlooking the grounds and sat down.

“We’ve got years of this,” said Walsh. “I’m getting bored already.”

Ramsey smiled. “It’s better than going to work.” He waved his arm around. “Nice surroundings, a comfortable house to live in and everything taken care of. We don’t even have to cook if we don’t want to.”

“I used to enjoy my job,” replied Walsh. “And I got paid for going to work.” A frown creased her forehead as a thought occurred to her. “Are they paying us for all this. It’s something I never asked.”

Ramsey stopped. “Do you know, neither have I. We’ll have to ask Stebbing or Pearson when we see them.”

Walsh tapped him on the arm. “Now’s our chance, here they come now.”

As the security men walked up to them, they nodded in greeting.

“Finished for today?” asked Stebbing.

They both nodded.

“Good. They’re working on the first bits of wreckage, would you like to see them?”

Walsh looked up, her face brightening, the thought of pay forgotten. “What already? That was fast.”

Stebbing smiled. “Not really, it’s been nearly two months since the explosion. The people in Scotland didn’t hang about. They had the coffer dam built in just under three weeks. They pumped the water out a couple of days later. I told you, this is top priority. There’s tons of rock to remove, but a lot of the wreckage was visible once the water was gone. It arrive a couple of days ago.” He paused, looking down at them. “Interested?”

They both nodded.

“The rest of the staff have arrived with the bits they’ve found, I can introduce them to you. I know they’ll be very interested to see you.”

“When will they be moving in?” asked Ramsey.

“Some moved in last week to join the ones who’ve been interviewing you, the last few moved in this morning,” replied Stebbing. “They’re not staying in the house, they’ll be lodged in the new building you saw when we came in here.”

Ramsey nodded with understanding. “Oh, right.”

The hanger had undergone a radical change since their last visit. The benches were covered with soft cloth, cushioning the jagged pieces of metal scattered on their surface. Twenty or so people stood at the benches sifting through the detritus. The computer monitors flickered their light against the faces of the men and women staring at the screens. Ramsey and Walsh walked to the nearest bench.

Shapiro looked up. “Hello again, come to see what we’ve got?” He held out his hand. They both shook hands with Shapiro. Ramsey nodded at the pieces laying on the bench. “Can I touch?”

 Shapiro nodded. Ramsey picked up a piece of metal and weighed it in his hand. “Light,” he said. “What’s it made of?”

“It appears to be a alloy of titanium with magnesium and carbon evenly distributed through it.” replied Shapiro, “we’re still doing spectroscopic investigation on the materials so we haven’t got the full picture yet. The internal structure looks solid to the naked eye, but actually it’s a microscopic foam. It’s strong but very light, ideal where weight constraints apply. Think of a Crunchie bar, and you’ll get the picture.” He took the piece back from Ramsey and weighed it in his hand. “We certain this was made in zero gravity, it’s the only way to get a uniform structure like this. If we tried to make it here, the density of the foam would vary, it would be compacted at the bottom of the bar under the influence of gravity. It raises some very important implications.”

Ramsey raised his eyebrows. “Such as?”

“It implies whoever made this has an established space going technology. Established enough to have foundries off planet. That implies they have a need for a lot of material like this. You wouldn’t build a factory in space just for a few items would you?”

Ramsey shook his head. “No, I suppose not. You think they’re churning out space ships on a production line basis then?

Shapiro nodded. “The evidence seems to suggest that.” He put the piece of metal back on the bench. “We’re putting all the samples through spectroscopic examination. Other parts we’ve recovered are made of a different material. Once we’ve analysed the structure of the different parts, we’ll have some idea of what pieces go together.”

Walsh looked round at the benches. “How on earth are you going to fit all this back together?” she asked.

Shapiro smiled. “Come with me, I’ll show you.”

He led them to a large turntable at the end of the hanger. A piece of wreckage slowly turned on the table, the beam of a laser sliding over its surface. Shapiro indicated the rig.

“This is a laser scanner. We’ll put a number code on every piece we find and then the parts are scanned. The images are downloaded into a computer. We’ve developed a program that looks at the jagged edges of one part and tries to match them to the any other parts we find. It’s similar to a program for matching fingerprints. We’ve already had some success. Would you like to see?”

He led them to another table where two men were carefully taping three pieces together. “There you are.  We’ve already got this much done. It’s going to be a long job, but not an impossible one.”

“Hold on,” interrupted Walsh. “Those bits will have been bent out of shape by the explosion, the edges are bound to be distorted, how are you going to get round that?”

Shapiro held up his hand. “Ah, we have a program for that too. It looks at the shape of the item and works out what it should look like. We can tell in a lot of cases by impact marks, so we know what sort of forces were acting on it. Once we’re reasonably sure we’re right, the parts will be returned to something like their original shape and then they’ll be stapled to other parts we’ve worked on. Eventually, we’ll build up the whole structure that way.” He paused, “Well all the parts we can find that is.”

Ramsey raised an eyebrow. “Ingenious.”

Shapiro smiled back at him. “I like to think so. A lot of brain work has gone into this. The spin-off will be useful in aircraft accident investigation. The principles will work just as well in those cases too.”

He led them away from the table. “Your input is already paying off, come and see.”

They followed him to the computers lining the wall. Shapiro pointed to the first monitor. A three dimensional outline of the airlock, corridors and stairs floated on the screen. At the bottom of the stairs a wire frame outline of the fusion room and workshop was visible.

“This is from the information you’ve given us in the last couple of weeks. As we get more, the picture will become more detailed.” He nodded to the operator who moved the computer mouse. The image slowly rotated.

“We can look at it from any angle,” explained Shapiro. “Hopefully any mismatches will show up and we can adjust the picture. We’ll work in conjunction with the technicians re-building the ship. We’ve already managed to work out the rough dimensions of the parts you saw. As we get more information, we’ll be able to size the whole craft.”

“I’m impressed,” said Walsh. “You’ve done a lot in such a short time.”

            They wandered down the benches, trailed by Stebbing, Pearson and the two bodyguards, stopping here and there to look at the parts laid out for inspection. As they reached the far side of the room, Walsh suddenly staggered, almost falling to the floor. She clutched the nearest bench for support. Ramsey grabbed her arm, holding her up.

“What’s wrong Deb,” he asked urgently.

Walsh clutched his sleeve. “Chest,” she gasped, “Can’t breath.”

Stebbing and Pearson ran up to them, closely followed by the two bodyguards.

“Outside,” barked Stebbing. “Ray, call for a car, we have to get her to the clinic right away.”

The bodyguard reached for his phone.

Ramsey picked Walsh up in his arms and carried her outside. As they reached the doors, a car skidded to a halt in front of them. Ramsey lifted Walsh onto the back seat and climbed in beside her. Stebbing jumped into the front passenger seat.

“Move,” he said.

The car surged forwards heading for the house. Half way there, they passed a car heading in the opposite direction. Stebbing turned in his seat.

“Hang on Debbie, we’ll have you at the clinic in a few minutes.”

Walsh half sat up. “I can breath easier now. Whatever it was it’s going.”

“You still need to see a doctor,” said Ramsey. “We’ve got to find out what happened back there.”

Walsh nodded silently.

            By the time they reached the house, Walsh had recovered enough to walk unaided. They shepherded her to the clinic where a doctor and two nurses waited for them. They helped Walsh onto a bed and ushered Ramsey and the others out of the room.

“What the hell was that?” demanded Stebbing. “Has she shown signs of anything like this before.”

Ramsey shook his head. “As far as I know she’s never had a day’s illness in her life. The only time she collapsed was when Bodley attacked her…” He stopped. “Bodley is dead, isn’t he.”

“No question of that,” replied Stebbing. “Whatever it was, Bodley had nothing to do with it.”

A car drew up outside and Pearson and the two bodyguards came into the hall.

“How is she?” demanded Pearson.

Ramsey nodded at the door of the clinic. “She’s in with the doctor now. She seemed to recover on the way here. Hopefully it’ll be nothing serious.”

Pearson shook his head. “I don’t know. When a young woman like Debbie suddenly complains she can’t breath, well, I don’t like it.”

Stebbing thought for a moment, his face frowning. “Could it have been an allergic reaction to something in the hanger?” He murmured to himself. He turned to Ramsey. “Do you know if she suffered from any allergies?”

Ramsey shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. She’s never complained of anything like that.” He slumped against the wall. “We’ll just have to wait and see what the doctor says.”

            They kicked their heels in the corridor for an hour and a half before the door opened. Ramsey looked up as the doctor came out of the room.

“How is she, what happened to her?” he demanded.

The doctor held up both his hands. “Steady, steady. She’s all right. Her lungs are fine, she’s breathing quite normally now. I’ve given her a sedative to help her relax. I want her to sleep for a while.” He paused. “Has she ever complained of heart trouble to you? He medical records show nothing and when I questioned her she denied ever having any trouble like that.”

Ramsey frowned. “Heart trouble? No, never. Why what have you found?”

The doctor paused before answering. “I don’t know if I should be discussing my patients medical history with you.”

Ramsey lent forwards. “Bollocks to that,” he snapped his fingers. “Come on, if you’ve found something, I want to fucking well know about it.”

The doctor was taken aback by the ferocity of Ramsey’s question.  He was suddenly unnerved by the sudden change of atmosphere in the hall. Ramsey was leaning forward as if about to strike him. The doctor took a step back and wiped his forehead. He wasn’t used to relatives using the word ‘fucking’ when asking questions about his patients.

“Well, er, all right. Her heart was fibrillating.  We have a  scanner in there. When we put her through it, we saw one of her heart valves was slightly bruised. The damage is very slight,” he hastened to add. “it’ll heal.”

Ramsey’s face paled. “Damage, what sort of damage.” He thrust out his arm, his fingers clutching as if to drag information from the doctor.  “Come on, come on, what caused it?”

The doctor decided having come this far, there was no point in holding back. “It’s hard to say. It’s almost as if someone had pinched the valve between their finger and thumb. That’s impossible of course, but that’s what it looked like. That’s why she found it hard to breath of course. The heart wasn’t pumping blood round her lungs efficiently.”

The doctor saw a change come over Ramsey. The man’s face had become a mask.

“Jesus Christ, there’s another one.” He whispered. He grabbed Stebbing’s arm and moved him away from the doctor. “We have another alien here, I’m certain of it.”

Stebbing’s eyes widened. “What.”

Ramsey punched his arm for emphasis. “We have another alien here. Bodley did exactly the same thing to Phil Drake. He interfered with his heart, he nearly killed him.”

“Hold on,” replied Stebbing. “Aren’t you’re making a lot from nothing.” He nodded towards the clinic door. “She’s recovered, the doctor said so. What makes you so sure there’s another alien here?”

“Can you think of a better place to sabotage this project,” hissed Ramsey.

Stebbing thought for a moment. He turned to the bodyguards. “Ray, Ian, at the clinic door. No-one except the doctor and nurses go in or out. No-one, understand?”

The two men nodded, pulled out their guns and stood either side of the door with their backs to the wall.

The doctor stared at the two bodyguards, unnerved at sudden appearance of the guns and the change in Stebbing’s tone of voice. The corridor suddenly appeared encircled by an unseen menace. He looked wildly round, not sure where the threat was coming from. He nodded at the door to the clinic. “Can I go back in there?” he asked faintly.

Stebbing nodded and turned to Pearson. Pearson stood beside Ramsey and together, they gently pushed Ramsey along the corridor towards the entrance hall and the stairs. “We need to talk about this,” said Stebbing. “We’ll go to your room.”

Ramsey looked back at the two bodyguards.  He turned and stared at Stebbing. “You believe me, don’t you.”

Stebbing shrugged. “I don’t know what to believe. I’m just covering myself, just in case you’re right.”

The three men clattered up the stairs.

Chapter 47 New Chapter

CHAPTER 47

Stebbing shut the door and sat down facing Ramsey and Pearson.

“OK,” he said shortly. “Let’s have it. What makes you think there’s another alien here.”

Ramsey took a second to gather his thoughts. “It’s the way Debbie fell ill. It came right out of the blue. The way she collapsed reminded me of the way Phil Drake went down when Bodley attacked him.” He lent forward in his chair, his hand out for emphasis. “I repeat, can you think of a better place to sabotage this project.”

“This is all based on your feelings,” said Pearson. “There’s no proof.”

Ramsey rubbed his eyes. “Proof or not, it’s what I think.” He stared at Stebbing. “Are you going to do anything about it?”

Stebbing nodded. “Oh, we’ll check all right. We can’t afford not to. I better call Cass. He’ll need to know about this.”

He walked to the phone and spoke into it for a few minutes. He sat back down, slumping in his chair. “Right, I’ve passed on the message. Knowing him, he’ll be down here this evening.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” asked Ramsey.

“We’ll keep the guard on the clinic and keep the people from the hanger away from this house for a start,” replied  Stebbing. “If there is an alien here we want to keep him as far away from Debbie as possible. We don’t know what sort of range Bodley could use his talent, but distance must make a difference.”

“You hope,” said Ramsey.

Pearson stood up and used the phone. He spoke quietly into it then put the handset down. He returned to his seat.

“All done,” he said. “I’ve closed down the work in the hanger and sent the scientists back to their residence. I’ve also posted our security people at the front and back doors to this house.”

Stebbing nodded. “Good. That’s all we can do for the moment. Let’s hope it’s enough.”

“She did recover as we moved away from the hanger,” said Pearson. “That may be significant.”

“Or it may not,” replied Stebbing. “If she really was being attacked, he might have just stopped using his talent on her for all we know.”

“He might not have even been in the hanger,” said Ramsey. “Just because she collapsed there doesn’t mean the alien was in there too.”

Stebbing frowned, two crease lines appearing between his eyes. “Yeah, that’s right.  We’ll have to check everybody.”

“How?” asked Ramsey. “As soon as you start, that’ll warn him and anyway, he’s bound to be on his guard. You’ve shut down the work in the hanger, he must realise something is going on. ”

Stebbing shook his head. “I said we’ve done it as a safety precaution in case there’s something in the hanger that could be dangerous to the scientist’s health. Hopefully that may put him of his guard if there is an alien with us. We’ll not carry out direct interviews. We’ll start with the records first, though God knows, everyone here has been checked back to their childhood.”

“What if you don’t find anything?” said Ramsey. “Then what.”

Then we dig deeper,” replied Stebbing. “We’ll have to wait for Cass, we haven’t the authority to start a manhunt.”

“Are you sure about Ray and Ian,” said Ramsey. “They’re within feet of Debbie right now, just outside the clinic door”

“Sure as I can be,” replied Stebbing tiredly. He rubbed his eyes. “Christ, what a mess. This is going to hold things up for weeks. Just the thought of having an alien in the grounds gives me the creeps.” He dropped his hands into his lap, staring at Ramsey. “I just hope to God, you’re wrong, Duncan.”

            It was late evening when Cass arrived. His car swept up towards the house, the headlights briefly flickering on the bushes lining the drive. It had barely stopped when the doors flew open disgorging Cass and another man. They ran up the shallow steps to the door and let themselves in. Pearson was in the hall to meet them.

“We’re upstairs,” said Pearson.

Cass nodded. “Lead on then.”

Cass entered the room like a small whirlwind. He flung his coat onto the back of a chair and threw himself down onto a seat facing the settee where Ramsey and Stebbing sat . Pearson shut the door and sat down next to them. Cass nodded at the man who had quietly taken a seat next to Cass.

“Major Foulkes,” he said briefly, introducing at the man. He turned to Stebbing. “All right John, bring me up to date.”

Stebbing recounted the events of the past few hours. Cass sat in silence until he finished. “That’s it, you’ve left nothing out?”

Stebbing shook his head, “Nope, that’s all we have.”

Cass turned to Ramsey. “I know you had a bad experience with Bodley. Are you sure you’re not over reacting. There’s not a shred of evidence there was more than one alien.”

Ramsey shook his head. “I don’t think I am.” He stared at Cass. “We’ve only Bodley’s word that all the rest of his crew were killed. There could be a dozen of them hidden for all we know. I hope you’re not going to put this down to me being paranoid.”

Cass shook his head. “If I thought that I wouldn’t be here. I’m taking it seriously all right. We’ll just have to find a way to prove or disprove your contention.”

“Any thoughts on that?” enquired Pearson. “We’ve been discussing it all evening. Any thing too obvious would warn an alien hiding here.”

“The records of every man and woman here are being double checked as we speak,” said Cass. “That might show up some anomalies, but I doubt it. If they’re as long lived as Bodley claimed to be, they’ll have had plenty of time to give themselves an identity that’ll pass any inspection.”

“Woman,” said Ramsey thoughtfully. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Bodley never said what sex his crew were. I just took it they were all males like him.”

“We did think of it,” replied Cass. He sketched a rare smile. “We’ve had a bit more experience than you at this sort of thing.”

Ramsey turned to Foulkes “What will your role be in this?”

“There’s a lot of army personnel on this site,” replied Foulkes. “I’m responsible for all of them. We’ll have to go over all the checks again. Before they were chosen for this detail they were investigated of course. We’ll have to dig deeper this time. Any we’re not sure of will be transferred away. Then we’ll really investigate them.” He paused. “We’re very sure of the younger men. We know their family histories back to their grandparents. We’ll concentrate on the older men and those who have no living parents.”

“The same goes for my men,” said Cass. “Most of them are under thirty and they’ve been checked and double checked before they came here. The real problem is the scientists and engineers. Our choices were limited here, we couldn’t afford to be too selective. There’s only so many men and women who had the right qualifications and experience for this type of work.” He stood up. “We can’t do any more here, we’ll move to the com room, I want to see who was in the hanger when Miss Walsh collapsed.”

“How can you do that?” asked Ramsey.

Cass picked up his coat. “The whole floor area is covered by a battery of cameras. We keep a constant record of everything that goes on there.”

Ramsey grunted. “Cameras, don’t you trust anybody?”

Cass shook his head. “They’re not for surveillance, the cameras are to record all the finds and how they’re fitted together. We weren’t expecting trouble like this. As it turns out, it will help us see who was present at the time.” He moved to the door, the other three men trailing behind him.

            The man looked up from his computer screen as Cass pushed the door open and entered the communications room. Ramsey followed Stebbing, Pearson and Foulkes and stood with his back to the wall. He felt rather like a fifth wheel, not sure what his role was in the proceedings. Cass lent on the back of a chair, his hands gripping the soft fabric. He looked down at the man.

“You’ve heard what’s happened.” It was a statement rather than a question.

The man nodded.

Cass turned his head and indicated at the man sitting at the computer. “This is Brian Shearer, my senior man here,” he said briefly. “Brian, bring up the pictures of the hanger cameras, I want to see the lot, from the time Ramsey and Walsh first entered the place.” He turned to Ramsey. “What time did you go into the hanger.”

Ramsey thought for a moment. “We went there just after the last de-briefing session for the day. I suppose we got to the hanger at about twenty past five.”

Cass turned back to the Shearer . “How many cameras are in the hanger?”

“Five. One over the main assembly bench, the other four in each corner,” replied Shearer.

“OK, ignore the one over the bench, it’s a general view I want. I want to see if any one was taking a special interest to our guests.”

Shearer nodded. “Right, bear with me for a moment.” He used the computer mouse to access a series of drop down menus. The mouse flicked back and forth, the screens changing in rapid succession. A few moments later he gave a final tap on the mouse and looked up at Cass. “We download the pictures straight on to a hard drive, they’re instantly accessible that way. We’ll have the pictures in a second or two.”

They all leaned forward as the pictures appeared. Ramsey could see himself and Walsh followed by Stebbing and Pearson as they stepped through the door. At first most of the scientists and engineers looked up as Ramsey and Walsh talked to Shapiro, but after a few moments they turned back to their benches. As the party made their way round the room, only the people nearest the party seemed to take any notice of them.

Cass frowned. “No one seems to be taking any special interest in our guests, but then I wouldn’t expect that. If our man is in there, he’s obviously aware of the cameras”

Shearer nodded. “Everyone is. When they arrived the cameras were pointed out to them. No one objected, they knew the reason why they were there. It’s obvious we’d want a continuous record of the work in the hanger.”

“Can you identify every person there?” asked Ramsey. “The picture covers a wide area, not all the people are very clear.”

“No problem,” replied Shearer. “We have a duty roster for today. I can double check by zooming in on all the people in turn, just to make sure the staff match the roster. It’ll take a little time, do you want to wait or come back in about half an hour?”

“We’ll wait,” said Cass. “When can you start?”

“Now,” replied Shearer. He worked his mouse again and a list of names appeared in a column on the left hand side of the screen. As Shearer moved the curser to the first name on the list, a picture appeared at the bottom of the list showing the head and shoulders of a woman.  A bright green square appeared on the picture on the right hand side of the screen and settled on a woman bent over her bench. The green square expanded to show the woman in detail. Shearer compared the woman with the picture at the bottom of the list. He nodded with satisfaction.

“Yep, that matches. Dr. Valerie Blanchard.” He looked over his shoulder at Ramsey. “They all wear identity badges. The badges give out an electronic signal that’s picked up by a detector tied in to the camera. Makes my job a lot easier.”

“Very clever,” mused Ramsey. What happens if they forget their badges.”

“They can’t get out of the residence,” replied Shearer. When it was decided to use this place to rebuild the ship, a lobby was added to the front of the residence. It’s that conservatory like addition that juts out on the front of the building. If they go through the original door without a badge, the second door to the outside automatically locks. A recorded voice reminds them to wear their badges at all times. At first, the doors were locking about twenty times a day, they seem a forgetful lot, but they soon learned.”

Three quarters of an hour later, Shearer sat back in his chair. “Well, that’s the lot. Every one who should be there was there. No miss-matches.”

“I’ll have a list of those people” said Cass. “It’ll give us somewhere to start.”

Shearer pressed buttons and a sheet of paper slid out of the printer on the desk next to him. He passed it to Cass. Cass nodded his thanks and shepherded Ramsey and the others out of the room. They walked back up to Ramsey’s room.

“There’s not much more we can do here tonight,” said Cass. “I don’t think security checking will find an alien if there is one here. I’m going to get some extra help.”

Ramsey stood up. “If you don’t need me any more, I want to see how Debbie is.”

Cass waved his hand.” Yes, you go. We’ll keep you up to date of any thing we decide to do.”

Ramsey walked to the door. As he turned to pull the door closed, he paused for a second. The men in the room had forgotten his presence, they were huddled in a group, leaning towards each other, talking urgently in hushed voices.

Chapter 48 New Chapter

CHAPTER 48

Ramsey sat next to the bed in the clinic. Walsh lay motionless, her chest rising and falling with the slow rhythm of one deeply asleep. The doctor stood behind Ramsey.

He put his hand on Ramsey’s shoulder.

“She’s asleep, nothing more. The sedative I gave her should keep her under for a few more hours. You might as well get some rest yourself.”

Ramsey shook his head. “No, I’ll stay here ‘till she wakes up.”

The doctor nodded slowly. “As you wish. I’ll be next door if you need me.” With one last look at Walsh, he left the room.

Ramsey settled himself in the chair. Without realising it, he quickly fell asleep. He awoke suddenly, feeling pressure on his hand. He opened his eyes. Walsh looked up at him.

“Hello, sleepy head,” she said. She squeezed his hand. “I’m back.”

Ramsey lent over the bed and kissed her. “How do you feel Deb, do you want me to call the doctor?”

Walsh levered herself up. “No, no, I feel fine.  I could do with a drink though.”

Ramsey levered himself to his feet, feeling stiff after his sleep in the chair. He put his head round the door to the reception room of the clinic.  The doctor and the two nurses looked up.

“She’s awake,” said Ramsey. “Any chance of a drink for her?”

One of the nurses reached for a kettle on the worktop next to her. She smiled at Ramsey. “Two minutes,” she said.

The doctor stood up. “I’d better have a quick look at her.”

He followed Ramsey back into the side room where Walsh lay and lent over her. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“I’m OK,” replied Walsh. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

The doctor pressed his stethoscope to her chest. “Don’t talk for a minute,” he said.

He stood up, draping the stethoscope round his neck. Walsh looked up at him.

“Well,” she said. “Will I live?”

The doctor smiled down an her. “Probably for a hundred years.” He paused. “I want you to take it easy for the next few days. Come and see me every evening before dinner.” He held up his hands as Walsh started to speak. “Just a precaution, nothing more.”

Walsh reluctantly nodded.

The doctor turned for the door. “I’ll leave you two alone now. Stay in bed for another hour or so, then you can go back to your room, all right?”

Walsh nodded. “Yes, thank you doctor.”

The doctor smiled back at her and left the room. The door opened almost immediately as a nurse came in carrying a mug of tea. She put it down on the bedside table, smiled briefly at Walsh and Ramsey, and left the room.

Walsh took a sip of her drink. She put the mug down with a sigh.

“That’s better, I needed that. My mouth’s dry as a buzzards crutch.”

Ramsey smiled. “I can see you’re better all right.” His smile dropped. “You know what we think happened, don’t you”

Walsh smiled. “Hardly, I’ve been asleep for,” she paused, and looked at her watch, “Christ, over five hours.” She looked again at Ramsey face. “What?”

“We think you might have been attacked by another alien,” said Ramsey.

Walsh blanched, the colour leaving her face. “Another alien, here?”

Ramsey shrugged. “We’ve no proof. It’s just the way you suddenly collapsed.”

She grabbed Ramsey’s arm. “How can it have been an alien who attacked me, Bodley said all his crew were killed.”

Ramsey slowly shook his head. “I don’t think we can believe a thing he told us. For all we know, there could be several of them living among us. If more than one survived, God knows, they had enough time to merge into our society.”

Walsh shook her head. “Duncan, this is sheer speculation, what makes you think an alien is here?”

The doctor said you have a bruised heart valve, I was reminded of the way Phil Drake collapsed when Bodley attacked him. Bodley attacked his heart. The people here have got all our medical records. They said there’s no history of anything like this in your past.” He stared at her. “There isn’t is there?”

Walsh shook her head. “No, I’ve always been indecently healthy.”

“There you are then,” replied Ramsey. “A perfectly healthy woman suddenly has a heart attack in the very place where an alien space ship is being put together. If any of Bodley’s crew did survive, this place would be like a magnet for them. If they wanted to kill the only humans who had knowledge of the ship, what better place to be?”

Walsh nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. What happens now?”

“Cass arrived earlier this evening, he said he going to bring in some big guns. They’re going to check and double check every one here.”

“What’ll we do in the meantime then?” asked Walsh.

Ramsey shrugged. “Keep our heads down,” I suppose. “We mustn’t go near the hanger or the scientists until this is cleared up for a start.” He smiled. “Look on the bright side. No more de-briefings for a while.”

            Ramsey and Walsh sat on the settee facing Cass. Next to him, sat two middle aged men. Two weeks had passed since Walsh’s collapse, Cass had been absent during that time, now he was back. Cass waved his hand at the two men.

“This is Dr. James Dunning and Dr. Richard Collier. They headed the team that carried out the post mortem on Bodley.” He raised his hands. “Before you ask, they’ve been checked out to three generations. Great grand parents, grand parents and their mothers and fathers. Dr. Dunning has three children of his own and Dr. Collier has two. We’re as sure of their history as we can be.”

Dunning shifted in his seat. “You would not believe how thorough they were,” he said with a smile. “Family, friends and neighbours, all interviewed. They went back through our family history, even to our old schools and universities and dug out the year books. I’m relieved to say we both passed. You can be assured we are not aliens.”

Walsh smiled back at the men. “Well, that’s good news for us. We were getting to the point where we were scared to meet anyone new.”

Cass interrupted. “The reason the two doctors are here is to help us find a way of screening the personnel without their knowledge. You both have had intimate contact with an alien, your input will be useful.”

Walsh grimaced. “I wouldn’t call our contact intimate,” she said with a shudder.

Cass waved his hand, dismissively. “Maybe a bad choice of words, but you know what I mean.”

Ramsey looked up. “So, how can we help you? We only saw his outward appearance. You wouldn’t give him a second glance if you passed him in the street. You’ve opened him up, you must know more about him than us.”

Collier sat forward. “We know a great deal about his insides. What we don’t know is his behavioural patterns. I know this sounds a completely stupid question, but did he show any ability to read minds?”

Ramsey shook his head. “Funnily enough, I asked him that question. He denied he could. On the other hand, I think he can read human emotions very well. He always seemed to anticipate what we were thinking. It’s almost as good as mind reading.”

Dunning rubbed his face. “I think that rules out any direct approach, we daren’t take the chance. If we do single out an individual for further investigation, we’ll have to keep our  team well away from him.” He turned to Cass. “This is going to be harder than we thought, we’re going to have to find a way of checking all the staff here without direct contact.”

Collier spread his hands. “Bodley’s internal anatomy is so different from ours, if we could persuade the staff to be x-rayed we could easily find out if we had an alien here. Trouble is, it would tend to give the game away, wouldn’t it.”

“Do we have to x-ray the whole body?” mused Dunning. “One striking thing I remember from Bodley’s post mortem was he had no kneecaps. If we could rig up a portable x-ray machine where every one was sure to pass, we could eliminate people very quickly.”

“Hold on,” said Ramsey. “Bodley told us he was called up in the army during the second world war. Surely an army medical would have spotted that, wouldn’t it?”

Collier shook his head. “Outwardly he looked perfectly normal. The bottom end of the femur bulged into a large bony process covered with a pad of cartilage-like material. Imagine an elbow joint with a large bursa and you’ll have some idea what it looked like. A casual examination by an army doctor wouldn’t find anything wrong.”

Ramsey nodded. “Oh, right.” He shrugged. “Oh well, that’s one idea out of the window.”

“I don’t know,” said Dunning. He turned to Collier. “The difference would show up on an x-ray wouldn’t it?”

Collier nodded slowly. “I would say so, yes. We can go back to the body and take some pictures and compare the results with a human knee.” He turned to Ramsey. “We used a body scanner before the post mortem. X-rays wouldn’t have shown enough detail so we didn’t take any.”

“How long will it take you to find out if the x-ray shows up the differences well enough?” asked Cass.

Dunning thought for a moment. “We’ll drive up this evening after dinner. We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon with the results.”

Cass looked at his watch and stood up. “I’m afraid your dinner will have to wait, I’d like you to start right away. One thing, not a word about this to anyone. I want you to keep this completely to yourselves.”

The two men looked up startled at the tone of Cass’s voice.

“Oh, right, yes of course,” said Dunning. Collier nodded in agreement.

Cass walked them to the door where one of the security guards escorted them out of the house to their waiting car. Cass rejoined Ramsey and Walsh.

“We can’t do anything until they get back. Until then, keep your heads down and stay away from as many people as you can.”

“You mean stay in our rooms,” said Ramsey sourly.

Cass nodded. “Essentially yes. I’d like you to carry on preparing your own meals. Less chance of anyone slipping something nasty into your dinner.”

“Nice thought,” replied Walsh. “I hadn’t realise that was the reason you asked us to eat in our rooms.” She frowned. “You realise we’re virtual prisoners at the moment.”

Cass grunted. “Better a prisoner than dead, if our doctors come up with a method of spotting an alien, with some luck this should all be over in the next few days.”

“How are the checks going,” asked Ramsey. “Have you found anyone you’re doubtful about?”

Cass shook his head. “We thought we might have. One of the army lads who was brought up in a children’s home. No trace of the father and only sketchy information on the mother. When we double-checked we found records going back to when he first entered the home as a child and his subsequent adoption.” He waved his hand in a cutting motion. “At the moment we’ve no reason to suspect him.”

“So we wait,” said Ramsey.

Cass nodded in agreement. “We wait.”

Chapter 49 New Chapter

CHAPTER 49

            Collier held up two x-ray plates to the window.

“That’s Bodley’s knee on the left, that’s mine on the right. As you can see, the differences are obvious.”

Walsh smiled. “You x-rayed your own knee?”

Collier nodded. “We waited until everyone else had gone home before starting. We had Bodley’s body all to ourselves.”

“We tossed for it,” said Dunning. “Richard here lost.”

“So, we can move ahead,” said Cass. “Did you bring the equipment with you?

Dunning nodded. “A portable fluoroscope. It’s the smallest we could find. They’re used to check parcels and letters for bombs and the like. We can’t use it as it is, the whole thing is mounted on a base as one unit. We used your authority to bring an engineer from the company that makes them. He’ll help us make the necessary modifications.”

“Where is he?” asked Cass.

“We left him downstairs in the dining room. One of the security lads is with him. We didn’t want to bring him up here until you’d okayed it.”

Cass was silent for a moment. He made up his mind. “Bring him up.”

Collier left the room and returned minutes later with a middle aged man carrying a wooden box.

“This is Brian Freeman. He works for Infrateck, the company that makes the fluoroscope.”

Cass rose to greet him. “Good day, Mr. Freeman. Please sit down. Before we start do  you have any objections to signing the official secrets act?”

Freeman half rose out of his seat. “Official secrets?” He glanced at Collier and Dunning. He sat back down and smiled. “I knew something was up when they requested my MD to release me for a few days. They never said anything about official secrets though.”

“They weren’t supposed to,” replied Cass. “Now, will you sign? If you decline, the meeting ends here and now.”

Freeman smiled again. “I don’t see why not. Now I’ve come this far, I’d like to see what it’s all about. I could see this was something big from the number of soldiers we passed.” He paused for a moment then nodded. “Yeah, OK, I’ll sign.”

“Good.” Cass reached down to a briefcase beside his chair and withdrew a paper. He laid it on the coffee table and handed a pen to Freeman. As soon Freeman had signed his name, Cass briefly inspected the paper and put it back in his briefcase.

“Right, now I’ll tell you why you’re here. We need to x-ray the legs of a number of people without them knowing about it. We’re hoping your instrument can do that for us.”

“How far will they be from the scanner?” asked Freeman. “Usually the object to be scanned is only a couple of inches away.”

“I envisage the width of a doorway,” replied Cass. “Can you modify the instrument so it could cover that sort of distance?”

Freeman bent down and opened the box. “Let me show you what I’ve brought with me. It’s our smallest instrument.” He passed it over to Cass. “The viewer and the emitter are mounted on the base.  Anything you want to scan goes between them. It’s designed to check letters and parcels. It runs off a twelve volt power supply.”

Cass turned the fluoroscope in his hands. “Can you separate these components so they can be mounted on each side of a doorway?” 

Freeman thought for a moment. “Yeah, sure. This is digital X-ray technology, we can get much clearer images than old type. We might loose some definition if the distance is too great, but we should be able to handle the width of a doorway.” He paused. “I presume you won’t want wires running across the doorway connecting the emitter and the viewer, I’d have to adapt it to wireless transmission, that’ll take some time. I won’t know how long until I’ve pulled one apart, is that OK with you?”

Cass nodded. “I would like the system up and running as soon as possible. Are you sure you can do the modifications we want?”

Freeman nodded. “Oh yes, I can do it, it’s just this kit wasn’t designed for what you want, that’s why I can’t give you a precise time at the moment. If one of your people can run me back home, I can strip one down tonight. Once I know what’s involved,  I can give you a lead time for the modifications. I’m sure I can give you what you want.”

“If it’s clear enough to show a man’s knees that’s good enough,” said Cass. He looked at Dunning and Collier. “By the way, you realise one of you will have to check the images as the staff walk by, none of us have the expertise.”

Dunning looked at Collier and shrugged. “No problem, I presume whoever does that will be hidden. We won’t be in any danger, will we?”

Cass shook his head. “We’ll have to build some sort of enclosure you can hide in. Once we’ve sorted out a location, that is.” He stood up. “I’d like you to come with me, Mr. Freeman and have a chat with my security staff. Once we’ve decided on a location, we’ll drive you back home so you can strip the unit down. We’ll bring you back tomorrow, will that give you enough time to do what you want?”

Freeman nodded and left the room with Cass.

            The next day, Ramsey and Walsh sat on their settee drinking coffee, waiting for Cass to show up. A sharp knock sounded on their door and Ramsey got up to open it. Cass came in followed by the doctors and Freeman. Cass waited while Ramsey and Walsh exchanged greetings with them. When he had their full attention he turned and faced them.

“Right, we’ve worked out where to install the fluoroscope. At first we thought of the hanger door, they all pass through that. Unfortunately, that’s no good, any addition to the doorway would be instantly obvious. We’ve decided to use the lobby in the staff residence. There’s a cupboard in the lobby containing the electronics controlling the door locks, it’s big enough so one of you doctors can sit in there with the screen and the power supply. It’ll be a tight squeeze but you should be all right if you don’t move about much.” He looked at the doctors. “Have you decided who’s it going to be?”

Dunning put up his hand. “I lost the toss,” he said with a grin.

Cass nodded. “We’ll set the scanner into the doorway at knee height. Mr. Freeman is confident he can do the modifications necessary. You’ll be in direct contact with Brian Shearer who’ll recognise each person by their badges. He’ll pass that information on to you. The staff pass through those doors pretty quickly so you’ll have about half a second to make up your mind. All I want from you is yes for human or no for not human. Understood?”

Dunning nodded. “What happens if I do spot an alien?”

“You do nothing,” replied Cass. “Everything you see will be recorded so we can look at the pictures more carefully during the day. We’ll check the suspect again when he returns to the residence. In the meantime, we’ll do an in depth check on him. If you’re positive of your identification a second time, your part will be over, we’ll take it from there.”

“If you’ve got a record, why do you need Dr. Dunning sitting in a cupboard,” asked Ramsey. ”Couldn’t you just look at the record?”

Cass shook his head. “The records are our back-up, I want a pair of eyes looking at the screen.”

“How will you do the work in the lobby,” asked Ramsey. Won’t that attract attention? Not all the staff work on the wreck at the same time, they work to a rota, I remember your security man telling us that.”

“Most of the work will be inside the cupboard,” replied Cass. The only thing that will be visible is the end of the scanner set into one side of the door frame and the emitter on the other side. We’ll install them when they’re at lunch in the refectory.”  

“Won’t they be a bit obvious?” asked Walsh. “They’re not exactly small items.”

Cass shrugged. “Anyone who asks will be told we’re trying out a refinement of the security badge system. They still forget to transfer their badges when they change clothes, the outer door locks on a regular basis.”

“What happens if all the scientist are pass the test,” asked Walsh.

Cass frowned. “Then we start on the rest of the staff and the soldiers. That will be more difficult. My staff know about the fluoroscope, some of them will be installing it. I had to trust somebody. We’ll have to think of something else for the soldiers.”

“March them past the scope at gun point,” said Collier. “Soldiers are used to taking orders, if one of them turns out to be an alien, he’ll have a whole squad of armed men facing him.”

“It might come to that,” said Cass. “In the meantime, let’s concentrate on the scientists, they were the ones in the hanger when Debbie collapsed.” He turned to Freeman. “How long will it take you to modify the fluoroscope?”

“About a week, I should think, replied  Freeman.”

Cass nodded. “All right, one of my men will drive you back. He’ll have a chat with your MD to make sure you can work in private. I presume there is somewhere you can work without too many people seeing what you’re doing?”

“I can work in the R and D lab. If the Manager agrees I can work at night when the factory’s empty. Would that suit you?”

“Yes, that sounds fine,” agreed Cass.

“By the way,” said Freeman. “Who’s paying for all this? I’ll need some sort of authorisation before I start work.”

“The man I send with you will sort all that out,” replied Cass. “You just concern yourself with the modifications we need.”

Walsh raised her hand. “You said if the scientists pass the test you’d start on the house staff and the soldiers. Wouldn’t it be an idea to modify two fluoroscopes. If you had another one ready to use, you wouldn’t have to dismantle the one in the lobby doorway. It would attract less attention that way.”

Cass nodded slowly. He looked at Walsh and gave one of his rare smiles. “Good thinking.” He turned to Freeman. “Can you modify two in the week?”

Freeman nodded. “Now I’ve worked out how to do it. Modifying  two won’t take much longer, I’ll do them both together.”

Cass nodded. “I needn’t remind you not to breathe a word about this to anyone.”

Freeman smiled. “I couldn’t believe my ears when the doctors told me why they needed the fluoroscope. Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. Not that anyone would believe me anyway.”

Cass stood up, signalling the meeting was closed. “You’ve been very helpful, Mr. Freeman. We’ll see you back here in a week.”

Chapter 50 New Chapter

CHAPTER 50

            Dunning sat crouched over the fluoroscope screen, his face beaded with sweat. He felt vaguely claustrophobic, the cupboard was so small there was hardly room to turn around. He fitted in the space like a nest of Russian dolls. Shearer’s voice sounded in his head set.

“First one’s coming. Joseph Sullivan.”

Dunning concentrated on the screen. A pair of ghostly legs flashed briefly and vanished. Christ, he thought, this is going to harder than I thought. He tried to capture the after image. He made up his mind. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Two more,” said Shearer. “Patricia Harding and David Hall, in that order.”

Dunning tried to ignore the sweat trickling down his back as the images flashed by on his screen. When all the scientists had left the residence, he waited until there was a sharp knock on the door. He pushed it open and stepped out into the lobby. He straightened up, easing his aching back. Cass pushed the cupboard door shut, locked it and led him out of the lobby door away from the residence.

Dunning shook his head. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t catch all of them. Some of them walked out in a bunch, I couldn’t separate them.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Cass. “You only missed six. We’ll try again this evening. If necessary we’ll carry on for a couple of days till you’ve got the lot.”

            Five days later, Cass faced them again. He stared at Dunning and Collier.

“Are you sure, really sure?” he persisted.

Dunning glanced quickly at Collier and nodded.  “Markham is definitely not human. We’ve checked him four times now and the record backs us up. He’s the one.”

Ramsey squeezed Walsh’s hand. “Christ, I was right.”

Cass nodded. “Yes, you were.” He glanced at a folder on his lap. “Doctor Laurence Markham, metallurgist, age given as thirty seven.” He looked up, “You’re sure there were no others?”

Dunning shook his head. “We’ve checked them time and time again. We’ve also been over the records. We’re sure Markham’s the only one.”

“Now what?” asked Walsh. The thought that Markham was walking around loose and could attack her at any time sent chills up her spine. “Are you going to take him?”

“No,” replied Cass.

Walsh’s eyes widened. “No? After what he did to me?” She glanced at Ramsey. “If you’re not going to take him we want out of here.”

“How do you know he’s the only one,” said Cass quietly.

Walsh opened her mouth to speak and stopped, her mouth hanging open. “You think there’s more?” she faltered.

Cass nodded slowly. “It’s a possibility we can’t ignore. If we take Markham and there is another alien here, it’ll alert him. He could just disappear and change identities. We’d never find him then. You could always be at risk of attack.”

“So what are you going to do?” demanded Ramsey.

“We’re going to test every other person on this facility,” replied Cass. “I include myself of course. Once we’re sure Markham’s the only one, then we’ll take him.”

He stood up, looking down at the two doctors. “Mr. Freeman will set the second fluoroscope in one of the bedrooms in the clinic. Once all the house staff have been given the all clear, we’ll move on to the soldiers. We start this afternoon.”

            The bedroom had been cleared. In place of the bed, two tables sat either side of the room. Cass sat at one table, the fluoroscope screen in front of him. Wires led down to the pickup mounted on a box in front of his knees. Under the opposite table, the emitter sat hidden in a cardboard box. Both were at knee height. Next to Cass’s left hand lay two pictures taken from the x-ray plates. Hidden under the table, Cass’s right hand rested on his knee. His hand held a pistol. The safety catch was off and the first pressure taken up on the trigger. In his pocket, the weight of another pistol distorted the shape of his jacket. He nodded at Dunning.

“If you please doctor.”

Dunning stepped in between the tables. Cass compared the image with the x-ray pictures. He nodded. “Now Dr. Collier.”

Collier took Dunning’s place. Cass looked at the screen and relaxed. He slid the pistol back in his pocket and stood up. “Forgive this little charade, but I had to be sure.” He moved away from the table and indicated to Dunning to take his place. He stepped in front of the fluoroscope and looked quizzically at Dunning.

“Well doctor, am I human?”

Dunning gulped, swallowing air. He looked down at the screen and back to Cass. He nodded, his head jerking up and down. “Two kneecaps. You’re human.”

Cass nodded with satisfaction. “Good,” he said. He stepped to the side of the room and stood with his back to the wall. “That was just to reassure you. I wanted no doubt in your minds that I’m human.”  He nodded at Ramsey and Walsh who had been watching the proceedings. His pistol, hidden in his pocket, was aimed at them.

“Now you Mr. Ramsey.”

Ramsey was caught off guard. His head swivelled, his eyes staring at Cass. “Me?”

Cass nodded. “First you, then Miss Walsh.”

Ramsey shrugged and stood in front of the fluoroscope.

“Well Doctor?” asked Cass.

 “He’s human,” said Dunning.

Cass waved his hand at Ramsey. “Stand to one side please. Now you, Miss Walsh.”

Walsh stood in front of the fluoroscope, a defiant look on her face. “Well, do I pass,” she snapped.

Dunning nodded at Cass. “She’s human.”

“Good,” said Cass. “Now we can all relax.”

Ramsey whirled on him. “For Christ’s sake, don’t you trust anybody? Why check us, you know we’re not aliens.”

Cass stared back at him. “How can I know that, Mr. Ramsey? I was almost sure of Miss Walsh, she’d been operated on by army surgeons, but you were another matter. I had to be sure. Have you had firearms training?”

The question took Ramsey by surprise. “Firearms training, no. What the hell are you on about.”

Cass took out his pistol. He snapped a silencer onto the barrel. “I want you to hold  this behind your back. We’re now going to  test the rest of the staff. If Dunning gives us the word, I want you to fire at whoever is in front of the fluoroscope. At this range, you can hardly miss. If he tries to disable us, at least one of us should score a hit.”

Walsh stared at the pistol. “Were you pointing that thing at us?”

“Yes,” said Cass shortly.

“What would you have done if we’d failed the test?”

“I’d have shot you down. We’re not playing games here, Miss Walsh.” He turned back to Ramsey, holding out the pistol. “Do you feel you can do this. It’ll only be for the first staff member. If he passes, I’ll give the gun to him.”

Ramsey held out his hand. “Show me what to do.”

            Ray Coffey clicked off his mobile phone and walked through the house to the clinic. He pushed the clinic door open and walked the few paces to the bedroom. As he stepped through the door the barrel of a gun was pressed against his ear and his gun was deftly removed from its holster. Cass stepped smartly back, pointing both guns at him.

“Sorry Ray, I want you to stand over there on the spot marked on the floor.”

Coffey stared at Cass. “What is all this, you called for me.”

“I did,” agreed Cass. “Now, stand on the marked spot please.”

Coffey did as he was told. “Here?”

Cass nodded. Coffey placed both feet on the square of card taped to the tiled floor.

Dunning looked up at Cass and nodded. “OK,” he said.

Cass tossed Coffey’s gun back to him. “Stand over there Ray. We’ve found an alien among the scientists. Now we’re testing the house staff. You were the first.” He sketched a smile. “I was pretty sure of you, I’ve known your parents for years and you since you were a child. That’s why I chose you first.”

Coffey stared at Cass. “An alien, here? Bloody hell.” He looked at the tables and the fluoroscope parts sitting under them. “Isn’t that’s the thing we installed in the residence, what’s it all about?”

“Kneecaps, the aliens don’t have any. I’ll explain later. All you need to know is if Dr. Dunning says OK, they pass the test. If he says ‘pass’, we have an alien standing in front of us, shoot it down. Don’t hesitate because you might only have a second before you’re disabled. Ramsey and I will be on the other side of the room, by dividing its attention, we should be able to kill it.” He turned to Dunning. “Have you got that? OK for human, pass for an alien. Don’t get you phrases mixed up because we’ll be reacting instantly to what you say.”

Dunning gulped air and nodded.

Cass glanced at Ramsey. “You still OK with the gun?”

Ramsey stood with his back to the wall, conscious of the weight of the pistol in his hand. His hand felt sweaty round the butt. He nodded. “Yes, I’m OK” he replied. He realised the rules had changed. The alien was now an ‘it’, it had been de-humanised, a thing to be destroyed without mercy.

“All right,” said Cass. He turned to Coffey. “Put your silencer on, there could be more than one in this house. If we kill the first one, we don’t want any noise that could alert the other.”

Coffey pulled a silencer from his pocket and fitted to his gun. He slid the magazine from the handle and checked the load before snapping it back into place. Ramsey watched his hands, deft and sure as he handled the gun. It suddenly came to him that he was in the presence of a trained killer. He wondered how many times Coffey had used the gun in anger.

Cass signalled to Coffey to stand by the door. “Call Ian Sumpter in here. Disarm him as soon as he steps through the door.”

Coffey grinned. “Just like you did to me.”

Cass nodded, his face set. “Yes, just like I did to you.”

Chapter 51 New Chapter

CHAPTER 51

            Cass sat at the end of the dining table and surveyed the sea of faces looking at him. He’d decided to use the dining room in preference to the conference room. The conference room had too many doors and windows. The dining room had only the kitchen door and the door to the hall to protect. An armed man stood at each door, his gun held loosely in his hand. Cass leaned forward, speaking in a low voice.

“All thirty five scientists and engineers check out clean except for Markham. He’s our main target for the moment. Now we’ve cleared all the staff in the house, our last job is to check the soldiers.” He nodded at Foulkes.

“There’s forty two men patrolling the grounds,” said Foulkes, smoothly picking up from Cass, “Along with officer and a couple of sergeants. They all have to be checked. I propose to bring them to the house one at a time. We’ll check them the same way as we did the house staff.”

One of the cooks spoke up. “I don’t think we should put a gun to their heads. However much we impress upon them to keep quiet, they’re bound to drop hints to the other soldiers about what happened to them. It’s not a  pleasant experience having a gun pushed in your face. When you did it to me and took my gun, you bloody well collapsed my soufflé.”

Foulkes suppressed a grin. “The overt use of guns  probably won’t be necessary,” he replied deadpan. “We’ll call them over on the pretence of updating their security passes or something like that. They’ll be instructed to leave their arms behind. However, they will be covered by armed men until they’re cleared.”

Ramsey interrupted, indicating the cook with his hand. “Just a point, I thought you were a cook, are you saying  you carry a gun as well.”

“All the staff in the house carry guns,” said Cass. He nodded at the cook. “Frank Proctor is a highly trained marksman as well as a good cook. He’s one of my men. All the staff in the house are my men and they’re all armed. I don’t think you realise how committed we are you and Miss Walsh’s protection.” 

Walsh looked round the table. She realised every one present with the exception of the doctor and nurses were armed. The thought both comforted and frightened her. “I think we are now,” she said quietly.

“Now we’ve cleared that up, can we go on?” said Cass.

“It’ll take a couple of days to check all the soldiers,” said Foulkes. “We can’t do them all at once, we need to keep the grounds patrolled. This raises the difficulty that  Frank mentioned. We must keep the soldiers waiting to be checked ignorant of what we’re doing. Somehow we’ve got to impress upon the cleared soldiers not to talk about what we’re doing.”

“Show them your guns,” said the doctor. “They frightened the life out of me. If you had told me not to talk, I certainly would have kept my mouth shut.”

Foulkes shook his head. “Won’t work doctor. These are trained soldiers, they’re used to guns. We’ll have to think of a better way.”

The doctor raised his hand. “You said you’d call them over on the pretence of updating their security passes. Couldn’t we put a camera in the room. They’d think we were just taking their picture. You wouldn’t have to tell them anything then.”

“That’s an idea,” replied Foulkes. He turned to Cass. “We can position the camera so the subject will be standing between the tables. He’ll be concentrating on the camera. With a bit of luck, he won’t even notice the fluoroscope, especially if we put a computer and file trays on the tables. He’ll think it’s just part of the usual clutter that covers a desk.”

“That could work,” agreed Cass. He looked round the table. “Anyone got a better idea?” He waited for a second. “No? OK, Major, we’ll do it your way. We’ll set up the bedroom this afternoon, you can start bringing the troops in tomorrow.”

            Ramsey stopped at the door and looked around the clinic bedroom. A large piece of white paper had been taped to the wall. Ten feet from the paper, a camera stood on a tripod. The tables were covered with computer monitors, file trays and piles of paper. Foulkes and the security men fussed around, adjusting the position of the camera and the tables. Cass noticed his arrival. He took Ramsey to one side.

“I want you and Miss Walsh out of here when we start. If one of the soldiers is an alien, he might try and kill you as soon as he sees you, even if it costs him his own life. This setup might convince an ordinary solder, but an alien might be on the alert for something like this.”

“When are you starting then?” asked Ramsey.

“When we’ve worked out the best place for the equipment,” replied Cass. He indicated the paper taped to the wall. “That’s our neutral background. The soldiers will stand between the tables on the cardboard square facing the camera. That puts them sideways on to the fluoroscope. The time it takes to pretend to take a picture will be more than adequate to check them. Ray Coffey and Ian Sumpter will be discreetly covering them with their guns. I’ll have more men waiting outside in case they’re both disabled.” He stared at Ramsey. “You’re the only one here who’s had dealings with an alien. Is there anything you can suggest, something we haven’t thought of?”

Ramsey let his gaze wander round the room. “I don’t think so. The fluoroscope is well hidden. I don’t think an alien however suspicious, would suspect anything.” He thought for a moment. “Instead of having them standing in front of the camera, you could set a chair on the mark. Anyone sitting down couldn’t react so quickly if they wanted to attack or make a break for it.”

“Good thought,” said Cass. “Let’s see what Dr. Dunning thinks of the idea.”

Dunning looked up from the fluoroscope screen as Cass and Ramsey walked up to the table. Cass outlined Ramsey’s idea.

Dunning nodded. “Let’s try it,” he said. “It might show the kneecaps more clearly if the legs are bent. If the chair was fixed down, it would also make it easier to ensure the knees would always be in the field of view of the fluoroscope.”

Half an hour later, the chair was fixed in position and several volunteers had sat on the seat. Dunning looked up from the screen and smiled, giving a thumbs up sign to Cass.

“Right,” said Cass briskly. “Your idea seems a good one. Now get out of here. I don’t want you or Miss Walsh anywhere near here once we start.”

“Where shall we go,” asked Ramsey. “Back to our rooms?”

Cass shook his head. “No, go for a stroll round the grounds, keep away from the house, the scientists residence and the soldiers barracks. John Stebbing and Gary Pearson will look after you. They’ll tell you when you can come back.”

“Oh, when did they arrive,” said Ramsey.

“This morning,” replied Cass. “They’ve been busy checking up on Markham. I’ll fill you in later, but for now, keep away from the house.”

Ramsey walked back to his room where Walsh was laying on the bed having an afternoon nap. She still tired easily, not having completely recovered from her operation. Ramsey bent down and stroked her face. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “Hello Duncan,” she said sleepily.

Ramsey sat next to her on the bed. “Cass wants us out of the house while they’re testing the soldiers,” he said.

Walsh yawned and stretched. “Where are we going then.”

“Cass told us to stroll round the grounds. John and Gary will come with us.”

“I didn’t know they were back,” said Walsh sleepily.

“Neither did I,” replied Ramsey. He held out his hand. “Come on Deb, put your shoes on, it’s time for a walk.”

            Walsh blinked as she walked out of the door into the afternoon sun. Stebbing and Pearson were waiting for them.

“How are you?” asked Stebbing.

“I’m all right now,” replied Walsh.

“No more attacks then.”

Walsh tapped the arm of the bench next to her. “No, touch wood. If it was Markham who attacked me last time, he hasn’t tried it again.”

“Curious that,” mused Pearce. “I wonder why he tried it last time. It only put us on the alert. You’d think if he was going to have a go at you, he’d have gone all out for a kill.”

Walsh shivered. “Well thanks for that. You’ve really  increased my peace of mind.” She smiled up at the security man. “Any more comments to put me at ease?”

Pearson smiled back at her. “Sorry, just thinking aloud. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“You can tell us what you’ve found out about Markham,” said Ramsey.

“Sure, we can do that,” replied Pearson. He held out his hand. “Let’s walk. I want you away from the house before the soldiers arrive.”

They wandered away from the house, down a gentle slope towards a group of trees. The ground rose again slightly as they approached the trees and Walsh felt a cool breeze on her face as they passed through the dappled shade under the branches. Past the trees, the ground dipped into a hollow, hiding the house from view. It was quiet, apart from the birdsong there was no noise. They could have been miles from anywhere. Walsh looked back over her shoulder towards the house.

“It’s hard to believe what’s going on back there,” she said.

Ramsey grunted with agreement. He turned to Stebbing.  “What about Markham,” he said.

Stebbing was silent for a minute, collecting his thoughts. “Markham’s dossier gave his age as thirty seven,” he began. “He lived in a flat not far from the university in the midlands where he worked as a lecturer. We found he regularly visited his father and mother in a town a few miles from the university. When we checked the address, we found a elderly man and woman and a younger man, ostensibly Markham’s younger brother.”

Ramsey’s head snapped round. “Three more, Christ, do you think they’re aliens too?”

Stebbing shrugged. “We’ve no way of knowing. My guess is yes, I don’t see how a normal family could have one of those creatures living with them and not know what it is.”

“He could be controlling them, the same as he did to us,” said Walsh. “Have you thought of that?”

Stebbing nodded. “We did and dismissed it. Markham’s was living there for over twenty years before he moved out according to the census records. I can’t believe in all that time, one of the family wouldn’t have tried to contact the police, especially after he moved away.”

“Then that’s five aliens including Bodley,” said Ramsey. “Bodley said he had a crew of six, there could be two more we don’t know about.”

Pearson shook his head. “Not quite right. I’ve been re-reading your statements. You actually said Bodley told you six of his crew were killed. What he didn’t say was how many crew his ship had. We’ve no idea how many survived. We know now we can’t believe anything Bodley told you. There could be any number of the bastards out there. There is another possibility, Markham could really be their son. They could have bred here.”

Ramsey whistled under his breath. “Christ, I never thought of that.”

“Do you think they were in contact with Bodley?” asked Walsh.

“I think they must have been,” replied Stebbing. “The fact Markham’s shown up here points to that.” He swung round as Pearson tapped him on his arm.

“Someone’s coming,” said Pearson.

A figure was approaching them through the trees. As he came out of the shadows, his face was illuminated by the sunlight.

Pearson face hardened. “It’s Markham,” he said quietly.

Chapter 52 New Chapter

CHAPTER 52

            Markham strode towards them at a steady pace.

Ramsey swung Walsh behind him. “Do you think he knows we’ve rumbled him?” he asked urgently.

“I don’t see how,” replied Pearson. “We’ve kept the scientists well away from the house, they’d have no knowledge of what was happing there.” He pushed Ramsey and Walsh away. “Start moving, John, go with them, I’m going to try and bluff him.”

Stebbing led them away as Pearson walked quickly towards the trees. They could hear his voice behind them as he shouted to  the approaching figure.

 “Dr. Markham, you shouldn’t be out here, your recreation area is on the other side of the grounds. Will you please….”

Ramsey looked back over his shoulder as Pearson’s voice suddenly cut off. Pearson lay sprawled on the grass curled into the foetal position. Markham stepped round the body and continued towards them.

Stebbing looked back. “He’s still coming, move.”

Ahead of them lay a small thicket of trees. Their trunks were thick with Ivy and creepers. Large flowering Rhododendrons bloomed in the spaces between the trees. They ran for the trees, half dragging Walsh between them. Ramsey looked back again. Markham was no longer walking, he’d upped his pace to a steady loping run. Oh God, he thought, it’s happening all over again. The sense of helplessness nearly overwhelmed him. He gripped Walsh’s arm tighter and concentrated on helping her keep her feet.  Stebbing pulled out his phone and frantically pressed buttons with his thumb. He spoke into it, his breath rasping in his throat.

“We’re about a mile from the front of the house, Markham’s after us, get some men here fast. He’s put Gary Pearson down, bring  the doctor as well.” He snapped off the phone and shoved it back in his pocket. He glanced at Ramsey. “The boundary fence is on the other side of those trees, once we reach that, all we can do is run along the fence. Markham will cut us off before help can reach us.” He looked back. Markham was nearer, not being hampered by the exhausted Walsh. Stebbing pushed them sideways in front of a Rhododendron, temporally hiding them from Markham.

“Move,” he said.

Ramsey and Walsh stumbled away as Stebbing pushed back into the bush and pulled out his gun. He listened, his senses alert, as the pounding feet of Markham came closer. As Markham rounded the bush, Stebbing lifted his gun. Something must have alerted Markham, because his head snapped round to face Stebbing. For a long moment, their eyes locked. As Stebbing’s finger tightened on the trigger, he felt a searing pain in his chest. He gasped for breath as a giant’s hand clamped round his chest. The pain blossomed, travelling across his shoulder and down his left arm. A despairing thought flashed through his mind as the pain increased. Oh my God, not now, not now. As his vision started to grey out, the figure of Markham blurred and wavered, almost merging with the bushes behind him. Stebbing desperately fired at the indistinct figure in front of him. Markham spun round, the impact of the bullet knocking him off his feet. The pain in Stebbing’s chest cut off as abruptly as it had began. His chest was still on fire and his head felt as if it would burst, but the crippling, searing pain was gone. As his vision cleared, he could see Markham on his back, struggling to regain his feet. Stebbing fired again, knocking Markham back onto the ground. He stumbled forward until he was standing over the alien and emptied his magazine into the prone figure. As each bullet ploughed into him, Markham twitched and convulsed, his back arching off the ground. Stebbing watched dispassionately as the life drained out of Markham, his fingers trembling for a second before finally becoming still as his nervous system shut down. Stebbing dropped his gun and sunk to his knees, the strength drained out of him. He fell forward, his arms trembling as he tried to support himself. He briefly looked up as Ramsey and Walsh ran back to him.

Walsh knelt down next to him, putting her arm round his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Stebbing shook his head. “No, I don’t think I am.” He faltered. He lowered his head towards the grass, his hair hanging limp over his eyes. As Walsh  looked at him she could see the colour draining out of his face, the sweat springing out in tiny beads on his skin. He raised his head. “He nearly got me. I couldn’t believe how fast he attacked me.”

“Welcome to the club,” said Ramsey grimly.

            Ray Coffey ran up to them, his gun in his hand, Ian Sumpter close behind him. They gathered round the body, their guns pointing at the still figure. Even though Markham was obviously dead, Sumpter dropped to his knees, and briefly held his fingers at Markham’s throat. He looked up at Coffey and shook his head.  Coffey holstered his gun and knelt down next to Stebbing.

“Christ, you look like shit.” He raised his voice to the group of men next to the prone body of Pearson. “Get the doctor over here.”

A figure detached itself from the group and trotted over to them. The doctor. He quickly examined Stebbing and spoke urgently into his mobile phone. He looked down at Stebbing now laying flat on the grass, his eyes closed.

“We’ll have you up to the clinic in just a moment.”

Stebbing opened his eyes. “Gary?”

The doctor shook his head. “Sorry, he didn’t make it.”

Stebbing shut his eyes. “Oh Christ,” he whispered. “What’ll I tell Anne.”

Ramsey looked at Coffey and raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

His wife, mouthed Coffey.

Ramsey felt a pang of loss. Pearson and Stebbing had become their closest friends during their stay at Edgcliff. Cass was too distant to form any sort of relationship and the other security men were silent grim figures intent on their work of protecting them. “What happens now,” he asked.

“We’ll get John to the clinic first,” replied Coffey. “About half the soldiers have been cleared. They’ll be put out in the grounds checking the perimeter while the rest are checked. As soon as they’re done, you can go back to your rooms.” He scowled, a ripple of emotion crossing his face. “Then we hunt down the rest of these bastards and deal with them.”

Chapter 53 New Chapter

CHAPTER 53

            The car carrying Ramsey and Walsh turned off Whitehall into an anonymous building. They both felt a tingle of excitement, even though their rooms were comfortable and the grounds extensive, it was a relief to be away from the confines of Edgecliff House. They passed under an arch and stopped inside the courtyard. Coffey and Sumpter escorted them out of the car and into the building. After their passes were checked by a soldier in the hall, they took a lift to an upper floor. Coffey led them down a corridor and stopped at a door. He rapped on the woodwork and hearing an indistinct reply from inside, opened the door. Cass rose from his chair behind his desk to greet them as they entered the room. Coffey and Sumpter nodded to Cass and left the room, shutting the door behind them. Cass waved his hand to the chairs in front of his desk.

“Take a seat, make yourselves comfortable, we’ll be here for a little while.”

Ramsey and Walsh sat down and looked expectantly at Cass.

“Before we start, would you like a coffee or tea?” he asked.

Walsh looked at Ramsey. “Coffee would be nice,” she replied.

Cass pressed a button on his desk. “Angela, bring in two cups of coffee please.” He looked up. “We’ll wait until the coffee arrives before we begin.”

He sat with his chin resting on his clasped hands until a side door opened and a middle aged women came into the room with a cup in each hand. She put them down on the desk and left the room without saying a word. Cass indicated the cups.

Ramsey and Walsh took the cups and sipped the hot drink, then sat cradling the cups in their hands.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to come up here,” said Cass.

 “We didn’t think you wanted us to leave Edgecliff,” said Walsh.

Cass opened a folder on his desk and briefly glanced at it. “We decided it would be safe enough for you to come to London. You’ll be pleased to know the immediate danger to you is over. We’ve only got other intelligence services to worry about. After what we’ve just been through, that’ll seem like a breeze.”

“You’ve been through?” began Ramsey.

Cass held up his hand.  “I’m coming to that. I believe John Stebbing told you the records indicated Markham had two parents and a brother living at his old home.”

They both nodded. “How is John?” asked Walsh. “We haven’t heard a thing since he left Edgecliff.”

“I’m afraid John Stebbing has permanent heart damage. When he’s recovered somewhat, he’ll have a replacement heart valve fitted. He’ll be retired from active duty.” Cass paused. “I take it you know about Gary Pearson.”

“We were there when he died,” said Ramsey bitterly. “He tried to save us, you know. Him and John deserve a medal, they knew what they were up against.”

Cass nodded. “Yes, I know. Pearson’s family will be well looked after as well as John Stebbing.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” said Walsh with satisfaction. She looked at the folder laying on Cass’s desk. “You were going to tell us about Markham’s family.”

Cass nodded and briefly touched the folder with his hand. “We put them under twenty four hour surveillance. According to the records, the older man had retired from his job at a small engineering firm, his wife had never worked. The brother worked in the office of a clothing manufacturer. Outwardly they were just ordinary people living in a quiet house. They did all the things ordinary people do, shopping, at weekends, occasional trips to the cinema, nothing to arouse suspicion. We decided to take one of them to see if they were aliens or just ordinary people under Markham’s command. The female was the best bet, she went shopping on her own, so we tried for her.”

Walsh took a sip of her drink. “So what happened.”

“We decided to take her in the supermarket car park. It’s a big space, with not many people around.  We had a male and female team armed with a taser. They pushed a trolley full of shopping round the car park  waiting for her to come out. Outwardly they look like a couple walking to their car with their shopping. Other teams were in the car park as back up.”

“Something in your expression tells me it didn’t work,” interrupted Ramsey.

Cass nodded. “The taser didn’t affect her at all. As soon as the darts hit her, she spun round and killed both our agents on the spot. We had to shoot her down.”

Ramsey blew out a long breath. “Jesus,” he whispered. “You’d have probably lost your man in Scotland too if you’d tried to dart him.”

“That’s why we used the taser,” replied Cass.  “There was some doubts about the effectiveness of the tranquiliser darts but  a dart gun was the easiest to disguise in the time we had. Now we had more time to prepare. We thought the fifty thousand volts of the taser would paralyse her nervous system. It didn’t. We didn’t even try it with the two men. When the woman didn’t come home they left the house, probably going to look for her. We shot them down as they came out of their front door.”

“How on earth did you keep that quiet?” asked Walsh. “I’d have thought it’d be on the front page of every news paper in the country.”

Cass waved his hand, dismissing her question. “It was late evening and we used silenced guns. Our clean-up squad are very efficient, the neighbours didn’t even know it had happened.”

“So you’ve got them all,” said Ramsey. He paused. “I take it they all were aliens.”

“Oh yes, they were aliens all right,” said Cass. “And we hadn’t got them all. When we searched the house, we found another address. At that address, we found another couple. We shot them too.”

“Another two,” exclaimed Ramsey. He thought for a moment, digesting the news. “That’s six, Bodley told us six of his crew had died. Gary Pearson reminded me Bodley didn’t actually say how many there were in his crew. Do you think you’ve got the lot?”

Cass nodded. “We’ve pulled both houses apart. We’ve found no evidence there are any more of them. I think we’ve got them all.”

Walsh sat back in her chair. She shook her head. “You’ve no idea what a relief that is. After Bodley and Markham, I was living on my nerves waiting for the next attack.”

“Well, you can relax now. Just concentrate on helping the scientists rebuilding Bodley’s ship. That’s all I have to tell you for the moment. I just wanted to bring you up to date, and give you a break from Edgecliff.”

“I still can’t understand why Markham attacked Debbie,” said Ramsey. “He only drew our attention to the fact there might be another alien at Edgecliff.”

Cass shrugged. “I’m afraid that knowledge died with him. The doctors have speculated it was a sort of trial run. He was feeling for Debbie’s heart as it were. Only he hit harder than he planned. I don’t think Bodley’s crew were as advanced as he was. They went for the heart every time. Markham attacked John Stebbing’s heart and our agents in the super market car park were killed in the same way. I think it was an instinctive lashing out. We’ll never know for sure of course.”

“What I can’t understand is why Bodley forced Deb and me to help him repair his ship. Why not use his crew to do that,” said Ramsey.

Cass shrugged. “We’ll never know for sure. It could be he wanted them to keep them under cover until the ship was ready to fly.”

“There’s still the money,” replied Ramsey. Why force Phil and me to give him money to buy the parts for his repairs.  He had all these other members of his crew to help him raise money.”

Cass looked up. “What makes you think they didn’t help?  We found boxes of instruments and components in both houses. I strongly suspect as soon as you and Miss Walsh had finished your work, both of you would have been killed. Then the other aliens would have made their way to the ship. I’ve no definite proof of course, but from what you’ve told us about Bodley, your work could have made the ship ready to go. The rest of the stuff we found could have been installed once they were clear of Earth.”

Walsh blanched. “Jesus, we only had a few days work left to do when we ran away.” She grasped Ramsey’s hand for support. “We talked about what would happen when we’d finished the work, but we didn’t seriously think he’d kill us. We were more concerned that he’d bring more of his kind back to Earth, that’s why we tried to sabotage the repairs.”

Cass nodded. “Well you can put it all behind you now, we’re sure you’re safe from further attacks, there are no more aliens. On a brighter note, the stuff we found at the houses are being sent to Edgecliff House, they’ll help us with the rebuilding the ship. Most of it seems to be systems control components. Once we find out how they go together, we can reverse engineer to get an understanding of the components they controlled, it could take years off the rebuilding if we succeed. I think that’s all the information I’ve got for you, any other questions, anything bothering you?  

Ramsey and Walsh looked at each other.

“How much longer will we be kept at Edgecliff, have you any idea,” asked Ramsey.

Cass slowly shook his head. “You know I can’t tell you that. It all depends on the progress the scientists make with the rebuilding.” He paused. “I’d be prepared for at least five or six years, maybe longer.”

Ramsey sighed.  “It’s about what we expected, we just hoped you know…… ” He tailed off.

Cass shook his head again. “Sorry, can’t help you. Anything else?”

Ramsey and Walsh shook their heads.

 Cass stood up, indicating the meeting was at an end. He pressed a button on his desk. A few moments later Coffey opened the door.

Ramsey and Walsh walked to the door. Walsh paused in the doorway “One thing,” she said. “Could John Stebbing come and visit us when he’s better, I’d like to thank him personally.”

“I don’t see why not,” replied Cass. “It’ll probably be a couple of months, but there’s no reason why he shouldn’t visit you.”

Walsh nodded and followed Ramsey out of the door.

After the door closed, the office was silent save for the soft ticking of a clock. Cass sat staring at the folder for a moment. He shook his head in half disbelief at the information it contained and closed the folder, smoothing it shut with his hand. He rose from his chair and walked to a row of cabinets. He took a bunch of keys from his pocket and unlocked a drawer. He slid the drawer open and after a riffling through the file holders,  slotted the folder into place and pushed the drawer shut. He locked the drawer with a satisfied look on his face. That makes a change, he thought, one case satisfactorily closed with all the aliens accounted for. Now it’s up to the medical people probing the guts of the aliens and the scientist rebuilding the ship. It’s routine from now on. He sat back in his chair and looked at the pile of folders on his desk. He sighed, his satisfaction evaporating. One case finished, a hundred more to do. He pulled a folder towards him, opened it, and went to work.

                                                                                 EPILOGUE

The ship hung in space virtually motionless four thousand million miles from the star. The weak distress signal had travelled for a hundred years before it had been received. The ship had been following the track of the signal like a moth flying down the beam of a torch. Halfway through its voyage the signal had abruptly ceased, but not before the ship’s instruments had located its origin. The ship drifting gently while a variety of senses searched the sky. The ships instruments oscillated back and forth and finally settled.  There, that was the planet the signal had come from. The corona briefly flickered again and the ship began moving inward.

                                                          THE END

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STICKY (2010)

What would you do if you were kidnapped by aliens along with a bunch of naked hippies. You'd try to escape of course.

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Food for the mind