Knife After Death: A chilling crime thriller

by Irvine, Ian C. P.

  As Peter listened to her speak, it was almost as if something within him moved. His heart skipped a couple of beats. He coughed, and his heartbeat was immediately restored back to normal.

  It made sense now. Peter had been to the wrong waterfall.

  .

  Her lips were soft and inviting, but Peter wasn't paying attention. He was too busy thinking about the waterfall in the hills outside of Knuttsford to notice that Carolina had stepped forward, bent forward and kissed him. It was a quick kiss, and in the second it took to blink, focus his attention back on the 'now', and turn to Carolina, she had turned and walked up the garden path to the house where Sam's babysitter lived. The door opened, Carolina stepped inside, and she didn't look back.

  For a few moment's Peter stood outside on the pavement, trying to remember what her lips had felt like. Then he shook his head, laughed, turned and walked back to the pub.

  Chapter Seventy One

  .

  .

  The Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh

  Polycom Video Conferencing Suite

  May 5th

  2.30 p.m.

  .

  .

  Two days previously Dr Stephen Jamieson had sent another email to Philip Grant of the StemPharma Corporation. He had still not heard anything back from Mr Grant. Nothing.

  He was beginning to feel insulted. It would be wrong of Mr Grant to underestimate the effect that an emergency report to the MHRA could have on the SP-X4 treatment and its licence for sale in the UK. And possibly in Europe.

  In addition, another case had been reported yesterday. Another instance in which someone who had had an organ transplant and was being treated with SP-X4 had subsequently reported rather incredible but also disturbing side effects.

  In even shorter, clearer language Dr Jamieson had sent a further, final request for an immediate meeting to learn more about how SP-X4 worked. He had indicated that if he was not given confirmation of the meeting with their scientists within the next two days, then he would report to the MHRA the following Monday.

  Within an hour of sending the email, a Video Conference meeting request had been received by Dr Jamieson, and he had immediately booked the VC suite at the hospital.

  Which was how Dr Stephen Jamieson came to be sitting now in front of the large Polycom Video Conferencing screens of their Executive Telepresence Suite.

  He looked at his watch. 2.30 p.m. Show time.

  .

  --------------------

  .

  In the Bunker in Delaware, Nic White quickly flicked through the presentation one last time. He had been up most of last night trying to finalise it and get it in order so that he would be ready for today.

  Luckily, he had already completed half of it in preparation for the meeting he had previously agreed to have with Philip Grant, during which he would have presented his explanation of what was happening with SP-X4, and the opportunity which that now created for further research into perhaps one of the most exciting discoveries and areas of interest that had arisen in genetics in years. And if Nic was right, it could even lead to one of the most important medical discoveries ...ever!

  Then, late yesterday afternoon, he had received an urgent call from Philip Grant, ordering him to drop everything and meet with him and a customer, a leading renal consultant from Scotland.

  The brief that the VP of Sales and Marketing had given him had been confusing. Nic was to explain in sufficient detail just exactly what the treatment was and how it worked, and also to provide a basic explanation of what was causing the cellular memory phenomena. However, the VP had stressed, "you must not alarm this guy, or give him too much detail. We must placate him, not spook him. We need to build trust with this guy that this drug works and everything is under control...!"

  "I think it would be best if I went over this with you in greater detail first...I need to talk to you about this in private...just the two of us! Having this guy on the call with us when I explain everything to you is not the right thing to do..."

  "Life stinks, Nic. We've got no choice. This guy is going to blow the whistle unless we can convince him otherwise."

  "And what if I can't? I don't know if I can 'placate' him...I think I know what's happening now and..."

  "Good, then you do your job, and I'll do mine. Do what the fuck you have to, okay? I don't give a shit what you say to this guy, so as long as you get him off my back. Lie to him if you must. And then, afterwards, then you tell me the truth. Okay?"

  It was far from okay. Nic White was fuming.

  He was still angry now, as the screens of the VC unit became live, and he found himself facing life-size images of three people on two different continents.

  The man on the left was Philip Grant. The man on the right was the consultant from Scotland. Nic hadn’t got the faintest idea who the third person was.

  .

  --------------------

  .

  "Welcome and hello, Mr Jamieson. It is a pleasure to see you again. In so much detail.

  I'm still trying to get to grips with this new technology. It's hard to believe that you are actually sitting in Scotland thousands of miles away. It looks like you are just next door."

  "Hello Mr Grant. And thanks for arranging the call."

  "No problem. Can I introduce you to Professor Nic White. He is the leading geneticist on the SP-X4 project, and it was his team that invented the drug, developed the procedure and rolled it out into production. I promised you the top man, and here he is."

  On the screen Philip Grant wafted his hand towards the space in front of him, gesturing in virtual space towards Nic White in Delaware. Nic waved at the screens, mouthing a hello.

  "I would also like to introduce you to Wilhelm Schmidt, our legal counsel. I've asked him to join the call today to ensure that we don't overstep the mark and give away too much information. After all, we have a duty to our shareholders to protect our patented intellectual property rights. I hope you understand?"

  Wilhelm Schmidt smiled, acknowledging the mention of his name.

  Philip Grant moved swiftly on.

  "Nic, Dr Jamieson in Scotland has a number of questions that he would like to ask you. You have my permission to answer them. Directly and honestly."

  Nic White smiled, acknowledging the lie which completely contradicted what he had been told the day before.

  "I will be happy to answer them. Please, Dr Jamieson. Fire away."

  "Thanks. Actually, I am quite familiar with the process of the treatment. After all, I am the leading renal consultant in this country who is overseeing the limited commercial release of SP-X4. My concerns centre around the fact that in what seems to be approaching almost 100% of the patients who receive transplants with this treatment, all subsequently report phenomena, which for lack of a better description, can be found on the internet popularly grouped under the term 'Cellular Memory phenomena', albeit these were all reports made from years ago, and from patients that did not use SP-X4. But the symptoms are very similar or the same."

  "I understand to what you are referring, Dr Jamieson." Nic acknowledged.

  "Good. What I need to understand is why is this happening? In almost 100% of the cases? In the past, when such reports first found their way into popular consciousness via the web, they were coming from only a very small percentage of overall transplant patients. Now, with patients taking SP-X4, it’s almost 100%."

  "I understand..." Nic said again.

  "Good, because I simply don't. Tell me what's going on Professor White or I will have to shut this drug down!"

  Nic could see that Dr Jamieson was quite upset. He was sweating and was mopping his glistening forehead with a handkerchief. Nic would have to be very careful what he was about to say.

  He looked at Mr Grant, seeking guidance. The VP nodded. "Please Nic," the VP said. "Please tell us..."

  Chapter Seventy Two

  .

  .

  The Edinburgh Evening News

&nb
sp; May 5th

  3 p.m.

  .

  .

  Susie sat at her desk, looking out of the window, enjoying her incredible view of the Queen's Park in Edinburgh. She never tired of the view. She often thought that she must have one of the best office spaces in the world. Since the Newspaper had relocated their premises from the top of the North Bridge in the city centre, to the edge of the Queen's Park at the base of Arthur's Seat, the day-to-day mood in the office had been transformed. Light was everywhere, flooding the office space with views of the historic city and the vast public park in its middle, lifting morale and helping to reduce the often high levels of stress found amidst the employees working on the newspaper.

  She loved her job. She loved working at the paper. And last night, in a moment of self-revelation and incredible, scary clarity which left her feeling both elated and vulnerable, she had realised that she also still loved Peter.

  She had tried to call him a couple of times today, but each time she just got through to voice mail. There was probably no reception in the countryside where he was. She hoped he was okay.

  So far, today had been a very productive day. She had finished an article early that was not due until tomorrow, and the Editor of the paper had sent her an email praising her for a recent report she had written on the financial impact that full Independence could have for Scotland.

  She looked at her watch. It was still early. Plenty of time to get on with something else. She knew exactly what she wanted to do.

  In total Peter and Susie had received 657 replies in response to their request for patients who had experienced unexplained peculiar personality changes following organ transplantations, to contact them with details of their experiences.

  She had spent weeks wading through them, reading each and every one of them, making notes and trying to make sense of it all.

  When Peter got back they would analyse it all together, and decide what to do next. She knew that this stuff was dynamite. She hadn't been so excited about the potential of a story for years.

  A few days ago she had started to make a shortlist of the most interesting cases. Ideally she should visit a couple of the patients, meet them, talk to them about their experiences, and take some photographs. Research the details, the hidden details that were always there, lurking in the background. It was often the small details that others overlooked that could really build the story. Make it powerful. Turn in into ‘that story’ that went global and was picked-up by all the major nationals. The story that got you noticed and your next promotion.

  Realistically though, her budget to research this story was minimal, if not non-existent. She would neither have the capability nor the resource to visit the majority of people who had replied. At best, she could perhaps visit a few of those who had replied from England and Scotland.

  Over the past few weeks Susie had been able to read almost all of the emails that people had sent in. Reading through what they had written, she had made copious notes, trying to see if there was any order or pattern between the symptoms that were being reported and the types of organ donations they had received: did people who had received a kidney report one type of experience, whereas people with heart transplants reported another?

  As she had been reading, new questions had been popping into her mind, which she had started to write down on the last page of her notebook. They included:

  'Was there any information as to when this sudden flood of experiences started happening?'

  'Did any of the experiences being reported relate more to one gender than another?'

  'Was there an age factor?'

  'What medication were they taking?'

  'Was there any connection between the type of medication being taken and the effects they experienced?'

  'What types of medication were being received by the patients reporting symptoms?"

  .

  As her pages of notes had grown, the list of questions had grown. Sitting in her office now, realising more realistically that she would have neither the capability nor the time to do many, if any, personal visits with patients, and looking at the pile of unstructured notes she had made, it dawned on her that the best way to approach this would be to conduct a structured survey of those who had responded: she would put together a list of questions, and send them out by email to everyone who had replied to their newspaper article.

  If she asked the right questions, the answers she received would hopefully enable her to quickly see any patterns of data amongst those who had experienced the phenomena.

  It took her an hour to collate fifteen of the most important questions that she thought she should ask. After she had checked them several times, she pasted them into an email in Outlook, wrote a short but sweet introduction, requesting everyone to please take the time to provide some answers, and then blind copied all 657 people who had responded to their article.

  She hit send, and sat back in her chair.

  .

  --------------------

  .

  On the other side of the Atlantic, Mat Stevenson saw the email arrive in his inbox. He clicked it open, read the content, and then dialled the mobile number of Philip Grant. It went straight to voicemail. He left a message.

  "Phil, it's Mat. We need to talk. We have to act sooner rather than later. Call me."

  .

  After the phone conversation that he had had with Philip several weeks ago, Mat had immediately started his preliminary work on the target.

  If he stuck to the current schedule, he was due to fly to Scotland in two weeks time to address the problem in hand, and remove it. In light of the email that Mat had just received, it was advisable to bring the plan forward.

  In preparation, Mat had done several things.

  Firstly, he had hacked into the systems at the Edinburgh Evening News, identified the reporter who was working on the report and analysed the data received in response to the newspaper article. He then placed some of his special, rootkit level spyware on her laptop and desk-based PC. With this he was able to keep ongoing visibility as to any articles or work she was doing that related to StemPharma. Any article, document or email that she created, viewed, copied or edited that contained a mixture of keywords -including StemPharma, SP-X4 and others- would automatically be copied and sent to Mat.

  Secondly, he had managed to put a trace on her mobile phone. He knew where she was at all times, and who she was or had been talking to.

  Thirdly, a week ago, Mat had created an alter ego that had supposedly received a kidney transplant and had subsequently suffered some strange experiences similar to the ones the reporter was investigating. He had then sent a fake email to the address given in the news article. His hope at the time was that he would be included in any future correspondence to the group of people who had responded: which is how he had just received an email directly from the reporter.

  Looking at the email now, the third question on the list sent out by the reporter was the one that alarmed him most:

  .

  "Please can you provide details of the medication that you were prescribed during and after your operation, and as part of your ongoing treatment."

  .

  Mat had worked for Philip Grant before. He had now been fully briefed on this new assignment and he knew that a primary purpose of this contract was to prevent any connection between SP-X4 or StemPharma Corporation and the cellular memory phenomena being made public. By whatever means it took.

  Mat knew that it was now only a matter of days before enough people replied to the email request, for the reporter, a woman called Susie, to be able to establish a single, very important pattern: all the patients reporting the phenomena were taking SP-X4!

  Once Susie had that information it would only be days or weeks before she wrote her newspaper article, published it, and a fire-storm destroyed StemPharma.

  .

  Mat was a professional. He knew what to do.

  Susie, and anyone else in Scotla
nd who might be involved in this, had to be removed from the equation as soon as possible.

  As soon as he had spoken with Philip Grant, he would make the necessary revised travel arrangements.

  Chapter Seventy Three

  .

  .

  The Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh

  Polycom Video Conferencing Suite

  May 5th

  3.15 p.m.

  .

  .

  Nic White hit the return key on his laptop and he started to advance through the presentation he had prepared for the meeting.

  As he spoke he watched the consultant in Scotland follow his slides and listening to his every word.

  "...And here on Slide 6, at a high level, we can see the outline of the various elements that make-up the treatment. You will be familiar with these. However, for the purpose of this discussion I will highlight the main component of this treatment again."

  "When the recipient receives the donor organ, we inject pluripotent stem cells into the donor organ, the surrounding flesh of the recipient where the organ will be received, and also all the contact points of the donor organ to the recipient. These embryonic stem cells are all taken within our labs from embryos that are four to five days old, and are then grown, reproduced in quantity and treated in a special process that StemPharma have developed."

  "In the days following the operation, special engineered genetic nutrients are injected regularly into the donated organs. Over the coming months and years, the patient will also receive a dedicated range of immunosuppressants and other prescribed medications, which StemPharma have tailored to the different types of organ transplants and will be offered by consultants such as yourself, depending upon the patient's case history and medical requirements."

  Nic White paused, looking across at the Scottish Consultant to see if there were any questions so far.

  "Yes, I am familiar with all of this. I am aware of the uniqueness of this treatment, specifically in relation to the use of the stem cells. What I am particularly interested in is understanding why or how this treatment induces or is responsible for the range of post-operative phenomena that we are seeing?"