Read STRANGE BODIES (a gripping crime thriller) Online
Authors: Antonia Marlowe
He looked around at all the towering blocks where most people lived and decided he’d like to get out of the city completely.
In spite of the grisly murders, his brief trips to the Blue Mountains had shown him the beauty of the countryside there, so very dramatic with soaring rocky peaks and lush green valleys. There were hundreds, thousands of houses there, many concealed behind semi-tamed bush gardens. The Western Motorway express grid was set at 150kph so the trip to his office would be quick. He could even use the tiny two-person jet-copter he’d passed the licence requirements for, but hardly ever used.
Then he remembered that Adelaide Browne had a house, a weekender she’d said, somewhere up there. Maybe he could ask Verity to take him there one day. Something else to think about.
Deep in thought, Verity followed the security guard out of the elevator; she needed to get home before Commander Adams and his expert arrived. Max spoke to her twice before it registered.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?’
‘I need your tag.’
She unclipped it and handed it to him.
‘The security gate will open automatically for you, Ms Burne. Drive safely.’ He said,
She nodded to him and started her car, heading for the exit. She glanced at her watch as she hit the street.
Plenty of time. Maybe I can go home first and … no, better not. If I get there by four that should be time enough to do what I need to do.
Medea House was about twenty years old and had been built on the site of a couple of derelict buildings between Harbour View and Cliff Streets. They had been demolished amid strident objections from local residents, objecting to the proposed building.
Marcus Havington had called a meeting to talk to the protesters and displayed a huge hologram of the proposed building in its setting overlooking Lavender Bay in Sydney Harbour. It was stunning, a masterpiece of architecture and engineering design. It appeared to be floating on its slender legs, set into a series of lush gardens complete with waterfalls, lily ponds, secluded seating nooks, small cafes and coffee shops that continued under the raised first floor. Glass elevators, escalators and travel ramps led up to the main foyer and atrium, itself ten storeys high and filled with trees and lush plantings. The building looked almost ethereal, light enough to float away and seemed oddly unobtrusive, the sky, the harbour and the park softly reflected in its glassy walls. Because of the huge base area, it was only forty floors high, unusual when most of the newer buildings in Sydney were narrow, though at least eighty storeys and some a hundred, the current limit.
Objections faded away, especially when Marcus promised to refurbish the park opposite and supply a full-time gardener. So the once rather shabby and run-down Clark Park was now a showpiece. Some of the locals had proposed renaming it, calling after the benefactor, but he discouraged it, mainly for historical reasons. The local council had insisted, and by way of a compromise it was now renamed Clark-Havington Park.
Medea House housed most of the Havington international media empire, including the AusNews and the magazine offices where Verity was heading. The broadcast and recording studios took up the middle ten floors, the public relations and advertising offices another four. The executive offices including Marcus’s private suite, two apartments, several conference rooms and a lavish dining room filled the top six floors; the newspapers and magazine staff were below them. The rest of the building was taken up with maintenance, engineering, security and a fully equipped gym and swimming pool. Two five star restaurants and a lavish ballroom filled the lowest levels. Basement parking took several subfloors.
Traffic was not too heavy today, as the new double-decker bridge and the tunnels added in the last twenty years had made the original a less popular option for traffic. The various traffic network grids kept traffic flowing smoothly, only slowing down during the busiest times of the day. With most people telecommuting at least two or three days a week, the strain on the infrastructure was eased.
Verity pulled up next to Clark-Havington Park to gaze at the sparkling waters of the Harbour and think about what she should do next. Nicholas Adams was no fool and she would have to be extremely careful how she handled things. She was determined to ignore the strong attraction she had felt to him and his obvious interest in her.
She glanced at her work phone and realised it was off. She remembered now that she had switched it off before she went into the police car park and had forgotten to turn it back on. As expected there were messages waiting, which she didn’t feel like reading at the moment.
As she drove into the car park she thought about what Oscar had said to her…
‘Don’t let past sorrows rule your life.’
He wasn’t the first to have said something like that—Adelaide and Lucy were always telling her to get out more, go to parties, meet a MAN. As she parked she allowed thoughts of Nicholas Adams to intrude. She had to admit she was a little attracted to him and it certainly seemed the attraction was mutual.
No
,
I’m not ready yet.
Nicholas Adams would barely have recognised the smiling Verity who chatted and laughed with her colleagues as she worked her way across the room.
‘Hey, Verity, got a hot date after work? Lookin’ good, babe!’ one of the young bloods yelled.
She finally made it to her shared desk and activated her Tyle. Nothing urgent. Milton had left a message to say contact him tonight, and that was all.
She rang Adelaide’s private link, one she had set up for the two of them. Adelaide answered and smiled. ‘Oh, there you are. I didn’t want to call in case you were in the middle of something. What happened with Nicholas? Did he give you the third degree? Where are you now? Hey, you look very spiffy. That red jacket looks great on you.’
‘Shut up, for heaven’s sake, Addie. Spiffy, spiffy! What does that mean? I’m in the office.’
‘Yeah, right. Bullpoop. You never dress up for the office.’
‘Don’t be vulgar, Adelaide,’ Verity said primly. ‘Anyway, I do sometimes.’
‘You still haven’t told me about the interrogation. Was it awful? But how could it be when you’re sitting there with that gorgeous man, who, incidentally, seems very struck with you, Ms Burne. Half your luck.’ She pulled a face. ‘Well?’
‘If you ever let me get a word in … nothing happened. Well, he got a bit annoyed with me because I wouldn’t tell him my sources. How can I tell him when it’s just me getting around you-know-what. I gave him some stuff and the photos and emails I got, but that was after he showed me some recordings from the original reports. God, that was ghastly …’
‘The bastard … how could he do that to you?’
‘No, no. He was so apologetic I thought he was going to burst into tears when he saw my reaction. He rushed off and got water; his PA brought in coffee. I was okay after a minute or two. It wasn’t the photos so much it was the fact that the bodies were moving, twisting and swaying in a slight breeze, I guess.’ She shuddered at the memory.
‘Oh, my poor darling. Are you sure you are alright now? I can see you’re still in the office … I’m upstairs rehearsing for a while longer but I can come down. We could go for coffee or a drink. The coffee shop in the Plaza downstairs has some new chocolate cakes, best ever.’
‘Thanks, Adelaide, but I’m going home shortly. I haven’t told you the next bit. He’s coming at about five he said, bringing some cyber detective. He’ll try and track those emails, so I want to make sure no one finds anything except what I want them to find. I’ll see you at home later tonight. Oh, and if you and whoever else is around just happens to drop in, say about six or even a bit earlier, I won’t be at all surprised.’
Adelaide laughed. ‘I’m sure I can round up somebody. Amy’s a dead loss—seeing her copper tonight, I think. That’s one smitten kitten. I know Lucy’s working at home today.’ Adelaide flicked her hair back. ‘I think she’s working on something new but she won’t tell me what it is.’
‘Look, I’ve really got to get on. See you later.’
‘Bye, sweetie. See you at home.’
Verity cast her mind over her security arrangements. She didn’t anticipate any problems but it paid to be prepared. This geek, the c-tec, was an unknown factor, and she had no idea how good he would prove to be. But CECI had an excellent reputation she’d heard.
At four-thirty Mrs Halifax buzzed. ‘DS Blanchard is here, Commander. Shall I send him in?’
‘Yes, please.’
A pleasant looking young man dressed in jeans and a gaudy shirt printed with bright tropical birds, entered Adams’ office. His fair hair was almost shoulder length, clean and well cut. He smiled slightly and said in a distinct American accent, ‘Commander Adams. Hi, I’m DS Jeffery Blanchard. Most folks call me Jet.’
He stuck his hand out as Adams rose to meet him. They shook across the desk.
‘Good afternoon, er … Jet. Have a seat. Has DCI Lucas filled you in on what we’re doing?’
‘Yes, sir, but not in detail. Just that we need to track some information sent to someone’s personal computer. Should be a piece a cake. I thought you woulda been able to handle that yourself, sir. Heard you were pretty hot stuff with a computer.’
‘No, I’m what you might call slightly above average but I think you’ll find this lady is well
above
the average user. In fact, I suspect her skills would at least match yours, from what I’ve been told. But we’ll see.’
Jet looked sceptical but said nothing more. He hefted a backpack and said, ‘I’ve got all I need here so we can go as soon as you’re ready, sir.’
‘Wait for me out in the reception area, if you would. I need to finish off here first and I’ll be there shortly.’
Nicholas closed his computer down and code-locked it and his console. He shrugged into a light jacket and tucked his personal phone into the pocket and left his office, sliding his hand over the security plate to lock the door. He contemplated taking a weapon but decided against it; he had one in a concealed lock box in his car anyway.
‘We’re off now, Mrs Halifax. Full security tonight and every night from now on, please. And leave whenever you’re ready.’
They headed for the elevator and car park, each silent with his own thoughts, the tall commander, and the younger sergeant.
And Adams was thinking,
Half an hour, less than half an hour and I’ll see her again.
I’m like a bloody teenager with an overactive libido. Concentrate on the case.
But he knew somehow that it wasn’t mere lust for Verity … she had touched something deeper, some spark that had lain dormant in him for a long time.
Adams and Blanchard arrived outside the Paddington house on the dot of five. Verity had been working with her AI computer in a heavily shielded room, digging deeper into the Richardson’s background, and watched a car leave Fortuna House on a wall monitor. Once the ID of the occupants was confirmed she watched until it turned into her street.
The AI had easily penetrated the city surveillance system a long time ago and the wall monitors could show any part of Sydney, or the world for that matter, but only Marcus knew of its ability to bypass the government’s
BigSys
monitors.
‘Merlin, please monitor and record this meeting. And make sure they don’t find anything they shouldn’t.’
‘Why, Verity, what
do
you mean? If I can’t find the source, some hot shot c-tec won’t be able to either. We’re up against a very smart person but I’ll get there. I always do.’
She closed down, sealed and left the room then went down to meet her … guests.
She had come home early that day after the conference at the newspaper office. Milton Cavendish, the editor, was the only one in the office who knew she was the RAZZ! researcher.
‘If I’m forced to tell Commander Adams I’ll try to contact you,’ she had said to him.
Then she had hurried home to change into casual clothes and to do what she had to do before they arrived. The computer in her downstairs study was fairly ordinary, by her standards.
She went down to the front door and unlocked the parking barrier at the kerb. When they buzzed at the front gate she released the locks then watched the security screen in the hall as they walked up the path. Her highly sophisticated system read their microchip data and confirmed their identity. She didn’t know much about this Jeffrey Blanchard but she would soon know how good he was.
Commander Adams had nothing except the usual odds and ends in his pockets, no weapon, and the other man had only electronic gear, some disks, data sticks and cards in his bag. She closed down the screen and opened the heavy security grille and the front door just before they reached it.
She stood aside from the doorway and said, ‘Please come in.’ She led them down an entrance hall, one side displaying three massive abstract wall screens which seemed to ripple with life in an ever changing pattern, then through to an archway leading to an enormous space. They stood lost for words for a few seconds as they gazed at the amazing interior of Verity’s house. No room full of antiques for her. In fact there appeared to be very little furniture. There was a large, long low L-shaped black couch, a table at each end, holding a silver lamp. One large red chair facing it provided a touch of colour. More huge wall screens with their slowly changing abstract pictures filled the north-east wall with a beautiful collection of black and white photographs of old Sydney, blown up to poster size, filling another wall. Glass doors at the far end showed a glimpse of a conservatory. It appeared the house had been gutted to remove interior walls and half the floor of the upper storeys. The living area had a glowing glass-like ceiling with a diffused glow softly lighting the room. A dining table, a thick slab of glass that seemed to float in mid air on a near transparent base, sat at the other end surrounded by six near transparent chairs. An open plan kitchen with a solid black granite central island, completed the room.
The floor above was accessed by an elegant curved staircase, its thick perforated centre column lightly entwined with some tropical vine as it wound through a mini jungle to the left. Most of the space on that side was filled with an indoor garden, a green riot of ferns, small palms and dozens of other plants and twining vines. A fine mist from concealed sprays dappled the leaves and the air was full of a fresh green scent. A waterwall sent its trickling contents to a small stream bubbling gently over rocks, meandering through the tangle of reeds and other greenery before disappearing underground to reappear outside the rear doors in the greenhouse attached to the house. Through the glass doors they could see a pond with papyrus and waterlilies, edged by rocks and tropical plants.
She saw them goggling at the unexpected sight and said, ‘It’s all recycled water. My house is almost completely self-contained and everything that can be re-cycled is—water, power, waste. The waterwall and stream and reed bed are all part of the multi-phase filtration system. The lap pool, which is in the courtyard, is also part of the system.’
‘Very impressive, Ms Burne, you have a beautiful house,’ said Adams. He performed the introductions. ‘This is Detective Sergeant Blanchard. He is one of our best c-tecs and is here, as we discussed, to see if he can trace the sender of those pictures.’
‘Hi there, Ms Burne, I’m real pleased to meet you. Call me Jet,’ said the sergeant with a big grin, holding out a hand. ‘This is a great system you’ve got here. Looks really efficient as well as beautiful. Who designed it and set it up?’
‘Well, I did, of course,’ said Verity, looking surprised at the question.
‘Wow. If I ever buy a house I’ll be talking to you. Now, the Commander tells me you’ve received a few nasty pictures and other emails and you haven’t been able to trace the sender. Well, you just let me at it and I’ll soon track it for you.’ They shook hands as he smiled, perhaps a little condescendingly at her.
Disguising her amusement with a frown, she said, ‘I’ll take you into my study and you can have a look. Do you want to come too or would you prefer to wait here, Commander?’
‘I’ll come with you both.’
The study was located down the entry hall, opposite the kitchen. There was no door apparent but she slid one of the large abstracts aside revealing a heavy door, with a metal plate. She held her palm to the panel and murmured something. The door slid to the left silently and disappeared into the wall.
The two men looked at each other with raised eyebrows as she led them into her study. It ran almost the length of the hall and was divided into two sections with a wall of shelves built around a heavily shuttered window. The shelves contained printed books, magazines and manuals as well as dozens of slim labelled boxes, odd pieces of equipment and a few photographs. A couple of standard office chairs sat next to a desk covered with papers.
At the other end was a massive computer set up, with a console housing enough controls, it seemed, to launch a space ship. Two high-back chairs were drawn up to it. Jet goggled at it then looked at Verity with considerable respect. ‘Holy shit … excuse me, ma’am. Wow, this is so cool … how did you get all this stuff. Um, two main units by the look of it, and table top unit and is that a holo unit? And … and I don’t recognise anything else!’
‘Oh, you know, it just builds up over the years,’ she said blandly.
‘Yeah, right. Hey, what’s that? I don’t believe it—a
Sherlock 221
tracker! You can’t buy
them
in a shop, where the hell … Ok, don’t ask,’ he said when she gave him a look. ‘And how many screens on that wall?’
‘Most of the wall is a screen … up to twelve separate ones—any configuration, any size. That group of controls will do it, or voice activated, as you wish. And there are four units actually but the small one down the end is a prototype. It’s not fully operational yet, still in test phase. For close work there are three or four screens that can slide up from the console.’
She picked up a small shiny gold square, all the world looking like a tile that might have come off a kitchen or bathroom wall. ‘This is the third working computer.’
Jet Blanchard couldn’t believe it. ‘That’s a computer! It’s no bigger than a … what … thick piece of cardboard. Where did you get it? What does it do?’
‘It’s a
Tyle
, spelt T. Y. L. E. Actually this version of the
Tyle
is about to be released … just in time for Christmas. Next Monday I think is the date. They’re starting an ad campaign this coming weekend … TV, papers, online, billboards. You won’t be able to miss it.’
‘Can I see how it works?’
‘Perhaps a bit later. Now the prototype, that’s something else … I could tell you but …’
‘I know, then you’d have to kill me. An oldie but a goodie.’
They both laughed then put their heads together talking some e-gibberish only they could understand. Jet was showing her some considerable respect now.
Adams had settled himself in one of the chairs near the door and watched with some amusement. It was good to see her more relaxed even if it wasn’t with him. It was as he had been told—she was an expert at this and was being surprisingly open about it. And that alone made him suspicious that all was not as it seemed. He supposed it was the nature of his work and years of experience that told him to look beneath the surface. As he watched them she activated one of the wall screens.
‘Computer, verify ID for unit one, my voiceprint. Show first five images from folder Richardson murders, on wall screens one to five, execute.’
Acknowledged, Verity Burne. Your ID confirmed. Retrieving … images on screens one to five.
The first of the murder images appeared as Verity picked up a remote. As she clicked through the series, twenty in all, Jet collapsed into a chair at the console and gritted his teeth to stop the bile that rose. He was amazed at how calm she seemed to be.
‘My system should be able to trace the source of any email sent to it. But it just ran into a brick wall on this and the earlier one. I’ll show you the latest.’
She sat down at the console next to Jet and touched another control. ‘Open email from Yorick.’ An email message appeared which merely said, ‘Some information for you.’ It was signed with a small skull. Then followed icons for the images they had just seen. She touched another control and the
Sherlock 221
hummed briefly then went quiet with just some flashing lights to show it was working.
‘If the
Sherlock 221
can’t trace that address I don’t see how I can. Do you still want me to try, Commander,’ Jet said, turning back to Adams.
‘This is way beyond my expertise. Ask Ms Burne if it’s worth the effort,’ he said. ‘Your call, Ms Burne.’ He was curious to see her reaction. Was she as easy with this invasion of her privacy as she appeared to be?
Verity thought for a minute. ‘I’ve met your DCI Lucas a couple of times at electronics fairs and conferences. He rang me not long before you arrived and told me a bit about you. You were in a murder squad in New York before you switched to electronic crime, I believe.’
‘Yes, the bodies just never stopped coming; it’s a violent place. I had three years there before it really got to me. When a juiced up junkie threw my partner out of a tenth floor window that was it for me. The guy was sky-high on some weird drug combination … I shot him as he grabbed me—I had no choice.’ He looked down at his hands. ‘I’ve never carried a weapon since then. I still have the odd nightmare … what the hell am I doing, saying! Geez, Ms Burne, I’m real sorry about that.’
Verity touched his shoulder gently, a butterfly touch. ‘Please don’t feel bad. I lived in Boston then New York a few years ago so I know what it’s like there.