Catch Your Death (31 page)

Paul left the room and ran down the stairs two at a time, locating the PC and connecting to the AA website, where he quickly found directions to Mayfield. The site provided full road-by-road instructions on how to get from A to B. He printed them off – the printer was agonisingly slow – then ran back upstairs to where Kate was pacing the room, her face in her hands.

‘
Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ve got directions. It’s just under a hundred and thirty miles, and if we follow this route it should take two hours fifty five minutes, unless there’s bad traffic.’

‘
What time is it now?’

Paul checked his watch. ‘Nine forty-five.’

‘
Oh shit. We’ll never make it.’

‘
Yes, we will. We’ve got three and a quarter hours, and the roads should be quiet now.’

‘
But what if we get held up? There might be roadworks somewhere. Or an accident. Oh…Jack.’

Paul took her chin and made her look directly at him. ‘We will make it Kate. I promise you. Let’s leave now.’

There was a heavy rap on the front door: Paul turned to Miranda. ‘Will that be your husband?’

Miranda’s eyes were wide with fear. ‘No. He’s got a key. And he’ll be in the pub till closing time. He always is when he’s with her.’

Paul didn’t have the time or the inclination to ask who she was. He quickly scanned the room and saw a cricket bat propped in the corner. He crept back down the stairs and pulled open the front door, swinging the cricket bat, ready to strike if necessary.

A man with a beard stood in front of him; a shaken, pissed-off man. A small boy pushed past Paul’s legs and ran into the house.

‘
Is my wife here?’ said Vernon.

CHAPTER 38

‘
Kate.’

‘
Vernon.’

He opened his mouth to speak but Kate pushed past him, still gripping the mobile phone like it was her only connection to Jack. A few days ago this would have been her worst fear: coming face to face with Vernon, the confrontation she had dreaded since she fled America. But now her ex-husband’s presence was little more than an irritation, an inconvenience.

‘
So…’ Vernon began, following her as she went into the kitchen and ran water into a glass. They could hear the sound of relieved sobs coming from upstairs, as George was reunited with his mother and sister.

She turned. ‘I don’t have time for any of your shit, Vernon. We have to get going now.’

‘
Because, if what George tells me is true, you let our son fall into the hands of some psychopath.’

‘
Actually, I think it was you who allowed the psychopath to get him.’

‘
If you hadn’t brought our son to England in the first place, he’d still be safe in Boston, where he belongs.’

‘
He belongs with me.’

‘
Yeah, well, great job, keeping him so close. Didn’t you dump him here with your sister so you could spend some sack time with lover boy here?’ He jerked his thumb at Paul, who had entered the room.

‘
At least I didn’t have a lover while we were still together.’

‘
Oh yeah? I’m supposed to believe that?’

‘
It’s true. And I left Jack with Miranda because I thought he’d be safe here.’

‘
Hah! Safe? I’ll tell you…’

Paul stepped in between them. ‘Please, both of you, stop it.’

Vernon’s face was turning purple. ‘Don’t you tell me what to do. You have no right. I can talk to my wife anyway I like.’

‘
Ex-wife,’ Kate interjected.

‘
We’re not divorced yet.’

‘
Please,’ Paul said, raising his voice. ‘Stop. We have to get going. If we’re going to make it to Mayfield by one, we should leave now.’

Kate turned angrily on Vernon. ‘See, you’re holding us up. Come on, Paul.’ She headed out of the room, Paul behind her.

Vernon followed. ‘I’m coming too.’

Kate put her hands on her hips. ‘What? No way.’

‘
He’s my son too. I want to help.’

‘
You’ll only hinder.’

‘
Kate, I’m coming.’

‘
If you think I want to share a car with you, then you’ve got…’

‘
I think we should let him come,’ Paul said. ‘He might be able to help.’

‘
At last,’ said Vernon, ‘somebody who talks sense.’

Kate couldn’t believe her ears. But they had already wasted far too much time arguing.

‘
Okay, whatever. Let’s go. We’ll take our car. Paul, you drive, Vernon, you’re in the back.’

The men did as they were told, though Vernon paused to get Jack’s case out of his car and transfer it to the Peugeot. Kate laid the mobile phone on the dashboard and fastened her seatbelt, flicking on the light so she could consult the directions that Paul had printed off the computer. The words skidded about on the page; she pinched the bridge of her nose and told herself to focus. This usually worked, in the lab when she’d been working all night, always on the verge of a breakthrough, or fighting a deadline, and she’d stare at her papers and the numbers and characters would dance and sway. But now, nothing would calm her: her heart was moving too fast, her brain felt like it was dividing, splintering into pieces, thoughts like flies buzzing around a light bulb.

She handed the instructions to Vernon on the back seat. ‘You’ll have to read them,’ she said.

‘
I don’t have my reading glasses.’

‘
For pity’s sake…’

‘
It’s okay,’ said Paul, trying not to sound to exasperated. ‘I can remember most of it.’

He had already pulled away from the house. Just as they departed, Miranda’s husband, Pete, arrived, a little tipsy after a night of drinking and flirting, unaware of the scene that would face him indoors, his children shaken and upset, his wife traumatised, accusatory and furious, screaming about monsters and skinny young bitches.

They were soon on the A44, heading south towards Oxford. The road was reasonably quiet, which was the first bit of good news of the evening. Kate was still terrified that they might get held up by an accident. She believed Sampson when he gave her a deadline. Not just because she couldn’t afford to risk it, but because he was too cold, too robotic, to be bluffing or to be malleable in any way. Trying to persuade him would be like trying to negotiate with a computer.

Vernon leaned over between the front seats. ‘Does somebody intend to tell me what in hell is going on? Who is this guy who’s taken our son? And why haven’t we phoned the police?’

‘
If we call the police,’ Kate said, ‘they will kill Jack.’

Vernon didn’t say anything for a moment. ‘Kill him? My Jack… My boy. But who? Who are they, Kate? What have you done to get involved with these people?’

‘
It’s a long story.’

‘
I got nothing better to do back here.’

‘
And we don’t know half of it yet.’

‘
I don’t care. Just tell me what you do know.’

‘
Okay. The guy – the man who took Jack - is called Sampson. He used to work at the CRU…’

‘
The what?’

‘
The Cold Research Unit.’

‘
That place where they were hunting in vain for a cure for the cold? You stayed there when you were a student, right?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
And had a nice vacation, as you told me.’

Kate glanced at Paul. There was another feeling, beneath the terror and panic over what was going to happen to Jack, crawling beneath her skin: this awkwardness caused by the fact that she was in a car with Vernon and her new…well, what was he? Lover? Boyfriend? It was too weird. ‘There’s stuff I haven’t told you about.’

Vernon snorted. ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’

‘
No – it’s stuff that I didn’t tell you about because I couldn’t remember it. It seems… apparently, I had my memory wiped.’

‘
You’re kidding me.’

‘
Do you want me to tell you about this or not? If you do, stop interrupting. Okay? We discovered that there was something going on at the CRU. I went to see a hypnotherapist. That was after Mrs Bainbridge was shot.’

Vernon’s mouth sprung open. ‘I think you’d better explain from the beginning.’

So Kate did, telling him everything they’d discovered so far; the gaps they’d filled in. She told him about going to the CRU and meeting Stephen. About how she went back for a second stay. She recounted the night of the fire, when she had been sick, and Stephen and her room-mate Sarah had died, and how she, Kate, had woken up in a strange hospital.

Then Paul took over, telling Vernon about how he had received a letter from his brother shortly before the fire, a letter that made it clear that Stephen also knew that everything was not what it seemed. And there was the fact that Kate clearly remembered Sarah getting out of the building on the night of the fire – although her parents were told she’d perished in the flames.

‘
So we went to see Mrs Bainbridge, the widow of Leonard, the man who ran the centre, my old family friend, and while we were there Sampson turned up and shot her. He chased us but we got away. Before she died, though, Mrs Bainbridge had given Kate some papers which described a procedure that had been done on her – Kate – while she’d been in hospital, altering her memory. So we went to see a hypnotherapist, who uncovered all these suppressed memories, including a conversation Kate overheard in the woods near the CRU.’

‘
And then Sampson came after Jack.’

There was silence in the car, just the sound of traffic rushing past on the other side of the road. Finally, Vernon said, ‘So what do you think was going on at the CRU? And why is this happening now? I mean, it was over fifteen years ago, wasn’t it?’

Kate thought back to what she’d learned from the hypnotherapy session. The conversation between Dr. Gaunt and the fat German had chilled her, even though she hadn’t understood what they were talking about and didn’t know what had happened next. But she must have gone looking for answers, her curiosity piqued. That was what she did: looked for answers. A curious cat. And others might have been killed because of her: Sarah, possibly. Stephen – probably.

‘
I don’t understand how they knew to come looking for me; how they knew I was back in the country,’ Kate said. ‘It’s as if they’ve been watching me. It gives me the creeps.’

Vernon leaned forward again. ‘What, you think these people have been keeping tabs on you all this time?’

‘
That means they’ve probably got some nice footage of you sneaking the lovely Shirl in and out of the house.’

‘
What? I never…’

‘
We’re nearly in Oxford,’ Paul said, in an attempt to get them to stop arguing.

‘
Oxford,’ sighed Kate, picturing herself in her gown celebrating the end of her University exams. ‘The last time my life was normal.’ Then something came to her. ‘Paul, do you remember on the news the other day there was that story about a scientist being murdered in his lab here? I can’t remember his name but they definitely said he was a specialist in viruses.’

‘
You think Sampson could have had something to do with it?’

‘
It’s possible, isn’t it?’

Vernon leaned forward between their seats. 'Hey, can we just stay focussed on finding my son please?’

The reminder of what they were doing silenced them. Kate leant her head against the window and stared out at the lights of the motorway, the passing cars, the illuminated signs above. She dreaded seeing a sign stating that there was an accident ahead.

They entered Oxford, driving around the ring road, still heading south.

‘
We’re going to need petrol soon,’ Paul said.

‘
You’re joking.’

‘
Kate, don’t panic. There are services ahead. It will only take a couple of minutes to stop and fill up. We’re making good time.’

‘
If you’re sure.’

‘
Yes.’

A few miles later they saw a sign for services and Paul pulled off the motorway, Kate drumming her hands on her knees with impatience as they waited for a pump to become vacant. Vernon got out of the car and paced around for a few minutes, going into the shop while Paul filled the tank.

As Paul went off to pay for the petrol, Vernon came back.

‘
I bought some chocolate. Do you want some? Got something called a Twix – we could share it.’

Kate turned round in her seat. The petrol station lights cast an orange glow against Vernon’s face. ‘Chocolate? Do you really think I can eat at a time like this? My stomach is churning. Isn’t yours?’

‘
Hey, I’m hungry, okay? For fuck’s sake, quit nagging me. Like you pointed out earlier, you’re not my wife anymore.’

‘
I never nagged you. I was always a good, dutiful wife, putting up with your indiscretions, entertaining all those boring professors and deans you were desperate to impress. I worked all day and came home and cooked your dinner and washed your underwear. I put up with your moods when the books you wrote failed to get published. I put up with your tempers and your outbursts. I taught you how to use your damn mobile phones and got music onto your iPod for you. I gave you twelve years of my life. And I never nagged.’