CHAPTER FOUR

 

�He�s gone off!�

 

October ninth.

 

Gloom hung over the main office like a deep fog. The usual cheeriness among the top twenty agents had gone and most walked about with heads bowed. Usually when they walked down the corridors, others would stand aside in awe, now they received only whispers and back-handed comments. Even those who sported the blue badge of the SEPIA Specials were fast losing the respect they had gained.

��������� Thumbing through a bank of papers, Henn, pale faced and fatigued, occasionally glanced up as one of his elite walked in. He could only wonder where all the laughter had gone.

��������� �We�re losing this one, aren�t we?�

��������� His only acknowledgement to his friend and once partner Vacily Sukoloff was a slow nod.

��������� �I need to talk, Alex.� With another nod Henn signaled him to sit. �I don�t know where to start, but I will. We were told that King had already placed spies within Pia. He called them Changers. What if?... Well what if it wasn�t bluff?�

��������� �You�re talking about the accidents aren�t you?� said Henn finally finding the strength to talk. �Vacily, just be thankful nobody was hurt. Perhaps both were accidents. Maybe Alment didn�t clean that gun.�

��������� �It was clean, I check it. I went back... � He looked down as a fleeting doubt came to him. Maybe Tzavros and the Guardians were right.

��������� �You were saying?�

��������� �Never mind, you wouldn�t want to know what I did. But I had three incidents. There was the gun and the bomb and suddenly Mr. Tremain in armory is dead. The brakes on a training car were cut and our mechanic Mr. Yusef is dead. Accident or not, fishy don�t you think?�

��������� �I�m hoping for coincidence. But with these coded messages, I fear you�re right as usual. Any ideas?�

��������� Avoiding looking at Henn he slowly moved his hair from his eyes. In his mind he practiced the sentence, one slip, one hint of an accent and Henn would know his worry.

��������� �One of messages says, �Ring the Changes.� The madman King said that Sasam brought back spirits who would become Changers and that we wouldn�t recognize them. What if wasn�t a bluff, what if he wasn�t mad?�

��������� �Oh, he was mad. But, I see your point. Carry on.�

��������� �Clive Peter Nutt was present at all little mishaps. With car he pretended to have premonition to avoid being killed. He knew brakes were cut. That car was marked down in the book as being for Alment and Tanen. Both these men have been targeted before. Why I don�t know.�

��������� �Nutt? Come on now, Vacily. You know I�d trust him with my life. No, on this one, you�re wrong.�

��������� �He different. No, not like Bayfield�s different. He jumpy, he cowardly, he all wrong. He got ordinary voice�not well spoken�not accent, you know one I�m saying? Then suddenly he has big accent. I trust him, no.� He put his head in his hands the moment he had finished and saw Henn�s smile.

��������� �Different, you of all people should know about accent. Have you heard some of the ladies while their on the phone? Plum in mouth until the receivers down, then back to slang. Come on, spit it out, what�s on your mind?�

��������� �Nutt isn�t only one acting suspicious, so Peter.�

��������� �Not you as well? What�s going on around here? Tzavros has just told me the same thing. He says Peter can�t shoot straight; he�s grumpy; he smokes; he drinks; Peter this and Peter that. I�m getting fed up of it. Both him and Clive Nutt need our support and are not getting it.�

��������� �I take your point, but, whenever something goes wrong, there�s Peter... �

��������� �Just for once use mirror before you make with backing up,� shouted Tzavros as he entered the office.

��������� �Shut up, everyone makes mistakes... �

��������� �Yeah, but you make it hobby...�

��������� Henn stopped the arguing by banging his paper weight hard on the table, this had become such a habit lately that a dent was beginning to appear.

��������� �Stop this, what�s the problem?�

��������� �Steele backed up into my front bit and it fallen off,� snapped Tzavros.

��������� �I presume we are talking about cars, Mr. Tzavros. Look, just leave it for now. We have more important things to do than discus people�s front bits. Firstly, I have had a call from Bayfield and Tretow. Both say hi.�

��������� �How�s their old lady?� asked a grinning Sukoloff.

��������� �As if you didn�t know. You�ve been chatting on the Special phone constantly since they left.� Henn didn�t agree with the telepaths constant use of their skills for relaying gossip. His worry was, how many people in the world could use telepathy and therefore were listening to Pia�s business.

��������� �Well just in case you haven�t informed our non TT members, this is the news. She has been dreaming of a desolate planet where law and order have gone. A place where children are killing their mothers.�

�I don�t think that will happen.�

�I have asked them to stay with her. We don�t need them and they deserve a holiday.� He took a long slow breath as he turned the pages of one of the many files in front of him. �Mr Tzavros, your Mr. Musshurren has turned up dead. His death is a bit on the mysterious side so we�ve been asked to investigate. I want you to take Clive Nutt and look into it. After you�ve stuck back your front bit.� Henn was relieved to see a smile come to Peter Steele�s face and Tzavros retaliate with a curled lip. He continued much happier. �Good news, for a change. Our records show that Elaine Catline has ancient language skills, so that scroll looks as if it might be read after all.

��������� �Steele, the deaths in armory and the garage look like murder I�m afraid. Take Catline and show her how to investigate a possible homicide. Once you�ve done that it�s physical time...�

��������� �I knew it, see the shrink and take a couple of years off work. That should see me past my agent sell-by-date.�

��������� �Steele, please don�t be so bitter. I want to make sure you are physically as well as mentally fit to renew your pilots license. Both you and Tzavros are over due that test. I for one couldn�t fly one of those babies without my eyeballs popping out and my heart exploding.�

��������� Feeling anger and fear, Steele stood and left the office. Anger caused by everyone�s sudden mistrust of him. Fear about the questions he longed to have answered, what was wrong with him? If it was stress, then most of the jobs an agent does would be impossible; leading men; holding a weapons license and flying. Without just one of these he could no longer be PIA�s top agent. He knew he could not handle that possibility.

��������� �Hi there, Peter. What you doing?�

��������� �Hello, Jade, I�m looking for Catline, seen her?�

��������� �In the armory, I think. Hey, I didn�t thank you for fixing me up with Zav. I was right, everything about him is pretty, he�s even pretty in bed.�

��������� �For goodness sake, woman,� Steele shouted. �Ladies don�t talk about that, not to men anyway.�

��������� �Why not? You men do it all the time, �how was it last night?� �I give her a six.� Well I give him a ten. Shame he doesn�t want another date, perhaps I shouldn�t have scratched him so hard.�

��������� �Stop it! If we talk about it, it�s man to man, friend to friend. Women don�t talk like this to a man they hardly know.� His anger reached a fever pitch and before he did something he would regret, he left.

 

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One glance into the apartment was enough for Tzavros to understand why Nutt was keeping his back to the wall. FBI cordons were still in place around what might be part of Musshurren. It was hard to tell from the well gnawed bones, but the rest of the body, now removed, had been identified as him. Every wall and every piece of furniture sported the same deep scratches. Bloody pug-prints decorated the tan carpet and at the slightest movement stuffing from cushions floated in the air.

��������� �Got any kitty cat food on you?� said Tzavros, momentarily forgetting that his partner was not with him. He rapidly changed tack with the color change to Nutt�s face. �They say he must have kept some kind of wild cat up here. Maybe lion or something. What you think?�

��������� �By the size of the prints, I think they�re right. I hope it�s not still here!� whispered Nutt, his back firmly against the wall.

��������� It was obvious to everyone what had killed Musshurren, the problem was, where had the cat gone? With a heavy heart Tzavros continued the search. He felt disappointment that this case would be taken out of PIA�s hands. The biggest missing animals they dealt with were dogs. Mostly he was beginning to feel anger, lately everything was being taken out of their hands. Also Nutt was with him on more and more missions while Steele was left at headquarters on mundane duties. Without Steele at his side he felt nude. They were a team, words were not needed apart from their game playing. One silent look from Steele and he would know whether to run left or right. It amazed everyone who saw them carry out their evasive zigzag that they never collided because each time the performance was different. They knew the one would back-up the other without the usual shouting. He scowled at Nutt who was still shuffling about as a frightened mouse and wondered if he could expect the same fast reactions to danger he had from Steele. If there was a situation would Nutt stand his ground or run? At the moment he was showing every sign that run would come first, cover your partner coming about tenth on his cowardly list.

��������� Nutt tried conversation a couple of times before becoming silent. On showing Tzavros the large cupboard full of comics and cartoon tapes, Tzavros had ignored him. Then suggesting there might be evidence on one of the tapes or in a comic, Tzavros pointed to the VCR and tutted.

��������� It became clear after an two hours of reading and watching stories about some character named Beetlejuice, that nothing incriminating was going to be unearthed.

��������� �Let�s backtrack,� sighed Tzavros. �I have funny feeling this man was up to something. We go back to art gallery and give it thorough search. We look for anything that ties him to Kijac.�

 

---

 

�Where was he found?� Steele asked firmly.

��������� With Catline in tow, he was directed from armory reception to a small walk-in cupboard. Boxes of printer paper and various requisition forms littered the floor. An unknown heat source had fused computer disks to the tiling, yet even papers sandwiched by plastic were unmarked.

��������� �Is anything missing from here? Any disks with our weapon inventory or the novelty weapon catalogue?�

��������� �No, Sir,� replied the security guard. �This is a storeroom. Laser paper, blank disks, all that stuff.�

��������� �What about in the rest of the armory, anything missing? Think carefully, even a paper-clip might be important.�

��������� �Sir, this place is a fortress. You know yourself that only Level One security holders can come past reception. That�s not many as you know. Mr. Henn; Mr. Sukoloff and the top ten agents, you included, Sir.�

��������� Steele looked quickly around the main room, each wall containing vaults for the storage of various weaponry. Each vault had a coded door. Each door contained a complex combination as well as retina scan access. Somehow, someone had gained access through the main door and killed Mr. Tremain as he hid in a locked storeroom.

��������� �You all right?� he asked quietly to a very white Catline. Their first visit had been to the morgue for the autopsy reports on both men. Dr Taylor had graphically described each organ dissection to Steele. Holding each in his hands as he showed the lack of injury and disease. Standing over the naked bodies he showed the burn marks on their chests and concluded his medical demonstration by disclosing his diagnosis.

��������� �Both men died from heart failure due to electric shock.�

��������� No electrical faults had been found. The storeroom had the usual one light fitting and that was in perfect order.

��������� �Any ideas, Elaine?� Steele asked.

��������� �Nothing at all. Are they sure it�s not suicide? For one thing, that storeroom was locked from the inside and the keys were in his pocket. I would have thought it pretty obvious.�

��������� �Not teaching you much, am I? But rule out suicide. Okay, let�s look through the security videos. Let�s go back till one week before his death. Something�s got to be on tape.�

��������� Steele began to relax after an hour of watching videos, despite missing the thrill of traveling across the world in search of counter spies, he enjoyed Catline�s company. Her soft voice added music to an otherwise boring job. Frequently he reached out and touched her ivory face or just gaze in wonder at her emerald eyes. She kept his mind away from his nightmares, yet somehow enhanced them.

��������� �What�s that!� he said jumping up to press rewind.

��������� �Didn�t see anything. Run it on slowmo.�

��������� They both watched the tape recording of reception taken the day previous to Tremain�s death. Thin blue lines crossed the top and bottom of the door in two places. There was nothing unusual in this. It had been Sukoloff�s idea to install cold lasers in case of ghostly invasion. He firmly believed that the day he was brought back, others where too. The lasers were harmless to the living but deadly to ghosts one they guarded every Level One room. Only Sukoloff knew the code for turning them off, yet on the video, for a split second they had vanished to be replaced by video interference.

��������� �Find the video for the armory, same time, same day,� Steele yelled with a tremble to his voice.

��������� On the video, Tremain could clearly be seen studying parts of the gun and bomb that had exploded on the range. He seemed to remember something and reached towards a locked drawer. He read two of the papers he had removed then jumped up, running towards the VCR. It was not unusual for him to check the day�s security video if he had forgotten something, everything that went on in that room was recorded. It was unusual for him to be alone. Suddenly, between bursts of interference he could be seen shouting to someone near the door. He began to back up and reached for his gun. This flew from his hand as if a bullet had hit it and he ran towards the storeroom. The video showed only an empty room with two more bursts of interference and the absence of laser light.

��������� �Take this tape down to the lab boys. I want that interference enhanced. I want to know what caused it. I also want to know if that camera has a blind spot. One more thing, I want to know where his assistant was.�

��������� �Is that all? No meet you later or anything?�

��������� �Sorry, yes of course. I want to find those papers he was reading, plus I want to look at the videos from the garage security cameras.� He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. �Elaine, you don�t talk about the personal details of our relationship do you?�

��������� �What�s this, male insecurity? No of course I don�t, why?�

��������� �Never mind, tell you later.� He watched as she left the armory then hurriedly he opened his complink. �Steele, Sukoloff, code delta, link to Net Two.�

��������� �Got you, Peter. Problems?�

��������� �Just want to know, when was the last time you turned off the armory ghost stoppers?�

��������� �That would have been on Tuesday the seventh, around about ten thirty. Again at about midday when I left the armory. Why?�

��������� �Looks like they were off for a fraction of a second the day Tremain died. Just a thought, you know?�

 

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�Mr Henn, Tzavros is calling Net One. Says he�s forgotten his codes, again, so I refused, as ordered. But he insists he needs an immediate link to Mr. Sukoloff, with or without the damn codes.�

��������� �I�ll take it,� laughed Sukoloff. �Not to worry, it�s him and not an intruder. �Yes, Zav, what�s the problem?�

��������� �That you, Vacily? Hope it is, because link is a bit in and out going. Problem is with Nutty. I think, and don�t quote me on these things. I think he has gone off.�

��������� �Gone off, as in rotten or gone off, as in he�s left you?�

��������� �I think he has gone off down a... How do they say it?... Snake tunnel?�

��������� �What?�

��������� �Things where space ships go in.�

��������� �Black hole?�

��������� �Niet! Links one universe to another?�

��������� A few minute�s consultation with Henn brought the possible answer.

��������� �Does he mean worm-hole? Him and his codes, why doesn�t he just say outright that he needs you for another sky-surfing lesson. Worm-hole indeed,� laughed Henn.

��������� �Worm-hole is what I said. Nutty�s gone puff!�

��������� �Right, is anyone with you?� questioned Sukoloff.

��������� �No, we get to Gallery and guard takes one look at me and for some reason goes home, quick like.�

��������� �Where was Nutt standing... �

��������� �Christ, Vacily! Don�t do that,� gasped Tzavros as he faced a grinning Sukoloff. �It not normal to be one place one time, then another place nearly same time.�

��������� �I�m not normal, I�m dead.�

��������� Tzavros pointed towards a wall where was hung a large picture frame, inside of which was a bright, sparkling glow of fast moving silver quicksand.

��������� �He liked picture that was once there. He boring me silly with stories of meanings behind it. He running hand over it when that appeared and Nutty was no more.�

��������� �How do you know it didn�t just frazzle him?�

��������� �I put arm in. Pretty smart I pulled it out again. It felt like one of those swimming pool filters. You know what I mean? When you stick toe in them?�

��������� �Right, don�t let anyone in. I�d better go on a Nutty hunt. Not to worry, see you soon.�

��������� He sighed deeply as his hand felt the first suction, the October sunshine was drawing him to do other things. More important things than finding an agent. Like loving his wife Jodie and playing with his baby. He wanted to fly around his apartment with her in his arms and listen to her chuckle. He wanted to continue teaching her the rudiments of telepathy, at six months old she was finding it natural and simpler than conventional speech. She gave all the telepaths great joy with her gurgling shouts of, �Dee Dee, pray babee. Dee Dee, fry babee.� Many an important meeting had been disrupted by sudden outbursts of laughter from Bayfield and Tretow.