The Invisible Assassin (12 page)

‘The place in Aylesbury,’ he said.

‘That’s the one,’ said Paul. ‘Well, last night some Animal Rights campaigners broke in and released a load of rabbits.’ As an afterthought, he added by way of explanation: ‘Apparently they conduct tests on rabbits there.’

‘What sort of tests?’

Paul shrugged.

‘I don’t know. Cancer. Cosmetics. Anyway, it caused a major hoo-ha, alarms going off, the local residents worried.’ He grinned. ‘Apparently, one of the locals thought there might be some sort of biological weapon testing going on that had gone wrong. Luckily, we were able to reassure them it was just Animal Rights freeing rabbits. And that the rabbits were perfectly healthy and absolutely
not
contaminated with anything.’

‘How do we know it was Animal Rights campaigners?’ asked Jake.

‘Because they sent out a press release,’ said Paul, picking up a sheet of paper from his desk and handing it to Jake.

Jake read it. The heading said ‘MAAT’, and beneath it the words:
Militants Against Animal Testing
. The message was simple.
We of MAAT oppose the inhumane use of animals for testing
. Then followed some statistics about the use of rabbits for testing cosmetics: how rabbits were ideal for testing harmful chemicals in cosmetics because they didn’t have tear ducts to wash away the toxic substances; and how rabbits were kept tied up while new experimental brands of shampoo were poured into their eyes. The press release ended with the words:
Stop this Cruelty Now!

Paul shook his head.

‘Mad people,’ he sighed.

No,
clever
people, thought Jake. There had been no freeing of rabbits from Hadley Park last night. Someone had worked very quickly to come up with this story and the press release from this so-called mythical ‘MAAT’, to calm the worried residents of Stone.

Just then the phone on his desk rang. He picked it up.

‘Jake Wells, press office,’ he said.

‘Good,’ said a woman’s voice. ‘I’m glad you’re OK.’

He frowned, puzzled.

‘Who is this?’ he asked.

‘Penny Johnson. We met at the site . . .’

The reporter! thought Jake. ‘Yes, I remember,’ he said.

‘I wonder if we can meet and talk?’ asked Johnson.

Jake hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to stir things up and arouse Gareth’s suspicions. Right now, it was best that he kept a low profile. ‘Well . . .’ he began, reluctantly.

‘Oh, don’t put me off!’ begged Johnson. ‘Look, you’re a press officer. I’m a journalist. We have to talk to one another, it’s in our job descriptions.’

‘Yes, but . . .’

‘Can you be free in ten minutes?’

Ten minutes? She was that close! My God, was this woman stalking him?

‘Well . . .’ he began again, awkwardly.

‘Stop saying “Well”,’ said Johnson. ‘Leave my name at your reception desk and I’ll see you there in ten minutes. If you need an official reason to see me, I’ve got a story I need to run past you, and you’re the only one who can verify it.’

‘OK,’ said Jake. ‘Ten minutes.’

He phoned down to the front desk and gave them Penny Johnson’s name and his extension. As he hung up he thought: what does she know? And why does she need to see me?

She was on time. Ten minutes later, Jake’s phone rang.

‘Your guest has arrived,’ said reception. ‘A Miss Penny Johnson.’

‘Tell her I’m on my way down,’ said Jake.

As he headed down to the ground floor, he wondered what story she wanted to see him about. It had to do with the dig, and whatever had been dug up. But the case had been dealt with, first by Algy, and then by Paul and others in the press office: it was a release of toxic gas, and the canister had been removed for safety to a research establishment, where it was being checked. So why had she gone to all the trouble of coming in to London from Bedfordshire, and to see him specifically?

Penny Johnson was standing by the reception desk, waiting for him.

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘You said you had a story?’

Johnson nodded.

‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ she asked.

Jake gave a rueful shrug.

‘If you want to talk privately, everything upstairs is open-plan,’ he apologised. He gestured towards a dark leather settee at one side of the large reception hall.

‘Down here is fine,’ said Johnson, and she walked to the settee, Jake following. Once they were sitting down she said, ‘There was a stir at Hadley Park Research Establishment last night.’

Warning bells sounded in Jake’s mind. Hadley Park, he thought. This isn’t about the dig, it’s about the break-in. He kept his face as bland as he could.

‘So I understand.’ He nodded. ‘Animal Rights campaigners freeing rabbits.’

‘That’s what the press release says.’

‘Their
own
press release,’ pointed out Jake.

‘Interestingly enough, I can’t find anyone who’s ever heard of this outfit, MAAT, before.’

Jake shrugged.

‘That’s the way it is with subversive organisations: there are new ones springing up all the time. Most of them breaking away from bigger outfits.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘Like in
Life of Brian
: the Judean Liberation Front and their mortal enemies, the Liberation Front of Judea.’

‘So, this is a new organisation?’ she asked.

Immediately, Jake grew cautious. ‘They
may
be new,’ he said. ‘I’d have to check with our archives.’ Then he frowned. ‘Anyway, I understand the research establishment where the break-in occurred is in Buckinghamshire. You work for the
Bedfordshire Times
.’

‘It’s just over the county border,’ responded Johnson. ‘At that point three counties connect: Beds, Bucks and Herts, all within the radius of a few miles. It’s hard to separate them as far as news stories are concerned. People from Beds live and work in Bucks and Herts, and vice versa.’

Jake shrugged again.

‘Anyway, all I can do is repeat the official line,’ he said. ‘Animal Rights campaigners broke in and freed some rabbits.’

‘So it was nothing to do with the Order of Malichea,’ she said.

Jake stared at her, momentarily stunned, a feeling of panic welling up inside him. For what seemed like an eternity, he couldn’t breathe. Finally he forced his mouth into what he hoped looked like a smile and gave a chuckle.

‘Look . . .’ he began, doing his best to look both puzzled and amused. It didn’t work. She shook her head.

‘It’s no good,’ Johnson said. ‘I saw the look in your eyes at the mention of the name. Panic. Why?’

Jake shook his head firmly.

‘I wasn’t panicking,’ he said. ‘It was just . . . surprise. The name came up recently in some research . . .’

‘Nonsense,’ said Johnson. She leant forward. ‘I can help you,’ she whispered.

‘Help me what?’ asked Jake, still desperately hanging on to his pretence that he hadn’t got the faintest idea what she was talking about.

‘A book was dug up at that site,’ Johnson told him coolly. ‘It was taken to Hadley Park. Last night, someone got into Hadley Park and took the book.’

Jake looked her squarely in the face.

‘Where do you get all this from?’ he asked. ‘What book?’

‘The book needs to go back to its rightful owners,’ said Johnson.

Jake stared at her, bewildered.

‘Its rightful owners?’ he echoed.

Johnson nodded.

Jake shook his head, bewildered. Really bewildered.

‘I don’t understand what you’re saying,’ he said.

‘You will,’ said Johnson. She looked at her watch. ‘I have to go.’ She took a card from her bag and handed it to Jake. ‘These are my contact numbers. You can get hold of me any time, twenty-four hours a day.’ As Jake took it, she looked him firmly in the eyes and said, ‘If you haven’t got the book, you need to tell whoever has it that it must be returned. I can arrange that. But it must be soon. It mustn’t fall into the wrong hands.’

With that she stood up, and gave him a smile.

‘Call me,’ she said. ‘And soon.’

Chapter 15

Jake’s mind was a whirl as he headed back to the office. Johnson hadn’t acted like a reporter keen for a story. She’d acted like . . . like someone who already knew what was going on.
The book needs to go back to its rightful owners
. How did she know about the book? And who were the rightful owners? The Order of Malichea? But the Order had died out hundreds of years ago.

As he walked through the door of the large office, he stopped. Gareth was standing with Paul at Paul’s desk and they were looking at something on the screen of Paul’s computer. To his horror, Jake realised what it was: CCTV images from a security camera just outside Block C at Hadley Park. Even through the rain he could see the words ‘Block C’ clearly. And two figures standing by the closed door: one of them with no jacket on, but still wearing a balaclava helmet hiding his face, and the other with no helmet and her face showing clearly on the screen. Lauren. The CCTV must have started up again as the security system and the locks were turned back on by Jo, and they’d caught Jake and Lauren. But only Lauren was in full view and recognisable.

I have to warn her, thought Jake. He took out his mobile and turned to head for the corridor, when Gareth’s voice called out, ‘Jake!’

Jake turned and put on a casual smile to match Gareth’s beam of welcome. ‘Gareth,’ he responded.

‘We’re just watching the CCTV footage from last night’s raid at Hadley Park,’ said Gareth, gesturing towards the frozen image of Lauren on the screen.

‘The rabbit people,’ added Paul.

Jake looked at the screen.

‘Do we know who it is?’ he asked.

‘Not yet,’ said Gareth. ‘We’ll run her through the systems, see if anything comes up.’ He turned to Jake, his face questioning. ‘
You
don’t recognise her, do you, Jake?’

He knows! thought Jake. Frantically, Jake tried to remember if he’d ever introduced Lauren to Gareth. Maybe at some departmental do. Or had Lauren ever called at the office to meet Jake, and been spotted by Gareth?

He shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. He wondered if Gareth could tell he was sweating and his stomach was churning with panic. He looked at Gareth and forced a smile. Gareth’s concerned expression was fixed on his face, his eyes boring into Jake’s. ‘Do you feel all right, Jake?’

‘I’m fine, thanks,’ said Jake.

Gareth shook his head.

‘You say you’re fine, but are you?’ he asked. He sighed. ‘You never went to the medico yesterday, so I hear.’

‘Er . . . er,’ stammered Jake.

‘Remember, my instructions were to go home for a day, and then get yourself checked when you came back.’

‘Er, yes,’ nodded Jake. ‘Sorry about that, Gareth. I’ll go and see them this afternoon.’

‘No, you won’t,’ said Gareth. ‘You’ll get yourself checked
now
, Jake. Don’t forget, we have a duty of care for you. You
think
you’re fine, but who’s to say there mightn’t be some vestiges of the gas still hanging around in your system.’

‘OK, I’ll go down and see the medicos now,’ said Jake.

Gareth smiled.

‘We’re going to do better for you than that, Jake,’ he said. ‘We value you. You have a future here. And we need to invest in that future.’

Jake looked at him, baffled. What was he going on about? Gareth’s next words sent a shock wave through him, even more than Penny Johnson’s had done.

‘I’ve fixed up for you to see one of our top men,’ continued Gareth smoothly, his face expressing deep concern. ‘After all, the medico here said he couldn’t find anything wrong with you the other day.’ Gareth shook his head disapprovingly. ‘That’s not good enough. You suffered harm while doing your duty, Jake. We need to get to the bottom of it, in case there could be after-effects. I’ve arranged for you to go and see the department’s top man in Harley Street.’

He knows! thought Jake, his heart racing. He definitely knows! In some way Gareth had recognised Lauren and connected her to Jake. That, along with finding Jake earlier in the week in archives, asking about ‘Sigma’ and ‘Malichea’ . . .

Gareth was behind this. He was behind everything. He’s the government man protecting the secret of Malichea, Jake told himself in a panic, and he knows it was me who took the book! Now they’re going to take me to this doctor in Harley Street and shoot me up with Pentothal or some other truth drug, so I tell them where the book is. I have to get away!

Jake did his best to remain calm, fighting down the feeling of panic that threatened to overwhelm him. He looked at Paul, who appeared stunned at this surprising statement from Gareth, and also very impressed. Jake could tell what Paul was thinking: they’re sending him to their top man at Harley Street! Wow, they must really care about Jake’s health and well-being!