Dark Shadows

by Sibel Hodge

  I searched through the office cupboard for anything else incriminating but just discovered more unrelated paperwork. Frustrated at finding nothing further, I went into the lounge.

  There were two worn sofas, a glass coffee table, a flat-screen TV on one wall with an entertainment cabinet below it, and bookshelves in alcoves on either side of a fireplace. I opened the cabinet and found a DVD player and some DVDs. The bookshelves were crammed with mostly scientific and computer technology books and contained nothing that interested me. What I wanted was his personal laptop.

  I headed out of the lounge and hurried up the stairs. Directly in front of me was a bathroom. I poked my head in, noted an assortment of toiletries on the edge of the bath and towels on a rail. No wall cabinet.

  I ducked out and went into a small room opposite with a double bed, devoid of any linen, most likely a guest room. It had a set of fitted wardrobes along one wall with sliding glass doors. No bedside cabinets. I crossed the room and opened the wardrobe doors. In one half, there were spare pillows and folded blankets on shelves. In the other half, the upper shelves contained sheets, towels, and duvet covers. Below them, black boxes of files were piled up. I kneeled on the carpet and pulled the boxes out. Inside the first one were more professional journals. The second had research notes in it from years ago relating to studies in stroke patients. The third and fourth included studies from a Parkinson’s programme he’d run. They were obviously professional things he was hoarding but nothing that related to mind control or nanochips.

  I put everything back, shut the doors, and then went into the next room, which held only an exercise bike and a small table with a docking station for an iPhone on it.

  The final door at the end of the hallway was the master bedroom. A king-sized bed with a black-and-grey satin duvet set was positioned in the centre of one wall. On the floor beside one of the bedside cabinets was an electrical lead, the kind used for a laptop, trailing to a plug socket behind the bed. The laptop was nowhere in sight.

  I hurriedly searched the rest of the bedroom for the elusive laptop, but it was nowhere to be found. Klein must’ve taken it with him. And after looking through more wardrobes and drawers, I discovered nothing else that would help me. It was time to leave.

  I was just heading down the stairs when I heard a vehicle outside. And it sounded close, as in on Klein’s driveway kind of close. Maybe he did have cameras somewhere, after all. Or maybe he’d updated his alarm system to a monitored version, but the police database hadn’t been updated yet. Either way, it had to be Klein, or a keyholder, or a patrol officer who was outside right now.

  Shit. Shit, bollocks, shit!

  For a moment I was paralysed, halfway down the stairs. All the moisture drained from my mouth. My heart pounded.

  I glanced down to the front door. It was solid wood, so they wouldn’t be able to see me. Yet.

  Instinctive self-preservation kicked in then, and I hurried down the rest of the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. If I could get to the back door before they got inside the front, hopefully I could leg it to the fence and be up and over it before they noticed anyone was inside.

  I’d made it past the lounge door when the key slid in the front door lock. I looked through the hallway into the kitchen-diner. So close but not close enough. There was no way I’d make it now. I had one option.

  Hide.

  As I heard the telltale creak of Klein’s front door opening, I darted into the toilet and flattened myself against the wall behind the door.

  Chapter 50

  Mr White

  Mr White parked on Klein’s driveway and got out of his vehicle. He made light work of picking the Yale lock on the front door with gloved hands and stepped inside the hallway. He looked at the alarm panel on the wall. The light was green, and there was no beeping noise indicating he had to enter the code.

  The stupid bastard Klein hadn’t even set it. White pulled the door closed and went into Klein’s office, fuming at Klein’s lack of security nous.

  He opened the bottom drawer in his desk and pulled out some journals, dumping them on top of the desk. He looked at the false plywood bottom and grabbed Klein’s sharp letter opener, prised up the plywood, and set it on the desk before staring into an empty compartment.

  ‘Bloody idiot,’ he growled as he dialled Klein’s number. The call went to voicemail. He left a terse message and hung up before turning his attention to the rest of the room, in case Klein had stupidly placed the subjects’ files somewhere else.

  He ignored the pain in his back as he pulled out multiple piles of folders from the office cupboard, a twisted snarl on his face at being forced to wade through all this crap as he waited for his phone to ring.

  Everyone knew Klein was having second thoughts about his involvement. When it came to the crunch, he couldn’t hack what he was doing. Maybe in the beginning it had sounded good to him in theory, but when Klein realised how dirty his own hands would actually get, he’d suddenly developed a conscience. White was sure now that it was Klein who’d tipped off Sutherby. But Klein would pay for it. No question about that. The thought cheered him slightly.

  Chapter 51

  Detective Becky Harris

  I breathed through my nose, not daring to move. The muscles in my shoulders burned as I stood rigid behind the toilet door. My heart boomed hard against my ribs.

  I heard rummaging around, drawers opening, then swearing. Whoever it was called Klein on his phone and left an abusive message. He wanted the files that were now weighing down the backpack over my shoulders, so he definitely wasn’t a police officer responding to a security breach or a keyholder.

  The cupboard doors in the office creaked open. More rummaging. Papers being scattered. More swearing.

  I couldn’t hear him go into the hallway because of the thick carpet masking his footsteps, but I sensed him there first. Then I heard his wheezy breath right outside the toilet door.

  There was a tiny gap where the hinges met the doorframe. If he looked carefully, he’d be able to see me or my shadow lurking behind it. My stomach tensed as I held my breath. Sweat tickled down my forehead beneath the balaclava.

  Everything was silent apart from the sound of his breathing. In my head, I pictured him coming closer and closer then swinging the door open.

  Silently, I slid a hand into my pocket, reaching for my PAVA spray canister. If he poked his head round the door, a stream of it in the face would incapacitate him long enough for me to make my escape. My heart felt as if it would explode as I gripped the spray in my hand.

  Then his phone rang.

  Chapter 52

  Mr White

  ‘Where are the files?’ White shouted down the phone at Klein, who’d returned his call.

  ‘What do you mean? They’re exactly where I told you they’d be. In the bottom desk drawer in the office.’

  ‘No, they’re not.’

  ‘You couldn’t have looked properly. They’re definitely in there.’

  ‘No. They’re not.’ White sat at Klein’s desk, staring into the empty abyss of the false-bottom drawer.

  ‘I don’t understand. I definitely left them in there!’

  ‘What have you done with them, Klein?’

  ‘Me? I haven’t done anything with them. They should be in the drawer, exactly like I told you.’

  ‘Are you backing out?’

  ‘No! They’re there, I’m telling you.’

  ‘If I say they’re not, then they’re not.’ White slammed the drawer shut. ‘And I’m losing patience now. You didn’t even set your alarm.’ He stood up and kicked around some journals that he’d now dumped on the floor.

  ‘Yes, I did set the alarm. I always do. What are you talking about?’

  ‘The alarm was definitely not set. You must’ve forgotten.’

  ‘I didn’t. I swear. I—’

  ‘Did you give the files to the police?’

  ‘Of course not. I don’t… I don’t understand. I really don�
��t.’ Worry crept into Klein’s voice. ‘That’s where I kept them. If they’re not there, and the alarm wasn’t on, then someone else has been inside and stolen them.’

  White stopped what he was doing and walked back towards the cupboard. He pulled out more folders, scattering them on the floor. ‘I don’t believe you. I think you were trying to purge your conscience by telling the police what’s been going on. Did you strike a deal with them? Immunity from prosecution if you told them what you knew? Well, that won’t work, Klein. There is no investigation, and never will be.’

  Klein sounded like he was hyperventilating. ‘I’m telling the truth. If they’re not there, then someone’s stolen them. Please, you must believe me.’

  Chapter 53

  Detective Becky Harris

  It was now or never. While he was distracted by the phone call and what sounded like trashing Klein’s office, I poked one eye round the partially open toilet door. Klein’s leather chair was empty, and there was no sign of him in the room from my viewpoint.

  I slid through the gap in the door, hoping he wouldn’t hear me over his shouting and banging around. I was almost out the door when something jolted me backwards.

  A surprised breath escaped my lungs, like the sound of air whooshing from a balloon, that seemed amplified in my ears. I twisted sideways to see what was going on and found that the strap from my backpack had caught on the door handle.

  Silence now in the office, apart from the crackling of his breath.

  I stared at the empty desk in front of me, eyes wide, panic exploding inside. Had he heard me? If he looked out now, he’d see me stuck there, half in and half out the door.

  Keeping my eyes trained on the office doorway, I clutched the PAVA spray tighter in my sweaty right hand, holding it up in front of me in case he came hurtling towards me. With my left hand, I reached down and tried to slide the strap off the handle.

  Still silence from the office. What was he doing in there? Waiting to pounce? Did he have a gun? He had to be one of the MI5 guys who’d been protecting Klein, and I wouldn’t put it past them to have a weapon.

  Dread slithered up my spine. My heart skipped a beat as I frantically tried to free the strap. And then I heard more shouting as his conversation resumed with Klein.

  Sweat dribbled into my eye as I kept facing forward, working on the strap by touch, blinking rapidly. And finally, I released it and made it out the door.

  I crept through the kitchen-diner to the French doors and slowly pressed down the door handle. Carefully, I opened it and clenched my jaw as I let myself out and shut it behind me. Then I sprinted across the lawn.

  Chapter 54

  Mr White

  ‘I’m telling you… the files must’ve been stolen,’ Klein repeated again.

  White listened to him rambling on for a while, thinking. Then, unable to stand Klein’s whiney voice any longer, he said, ‘I think you’re lying. You’ve been trying to back out of this for weeks. It’s been well-documented. You’d better cancel your patients and get back here right now.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You can. And you will. I’m not going anywhere until I get those files.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake! This is ridiculous,’ Klein blustered, but White could tell by the wobble in his voice that he was scared enough to do what White told him.

  White hung up and went into the kitchen, a burning pain spreading out through the centre of his chest. He glanced around at the windows, which were all closed, and then tried the French door.

  It was unlocked, which made him rethink the whole burglary possibility. Had someone been inside? Tampered with the alarm, as well? Or had Klein just staged the possibility of a burglary so he wouldn’t be blamed?

  It was also possible that prick Derek Sutherby had stolen the files after being expressly ordered to shut down any police investigation, but he didn’t think so. His family, his career, and his life had been threatened, and he’d been shit scared about that. Besides, Sutherby wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what would happen if he disobeyed. And White knew Sutherby had previously acquiesced to quashing investigations when ordered from above. So that left one more likely possibility. Another intelligence agency from another country had taken them for obvious reasons.

  He quickly ran that idea through his head, teeth gritted. The only reason another intelligence agency would know anything about this was if someone had told them. Although White had been talking to China and Russia, he hadn’t mentioned specifics about who was testing the project or which company had come up with the technology. He very much doubted Paul Hughes, Professor Gale, or Dr Beaumont had, either. They were too invested in it. Too dedicated. And they stood to make a truckload of money. That left Klein himself again. Everything circled back to him.

  Chapter 55

  Toni

  Mitchell and I kneeled silently behind the bush, hidden from view of the path, the sweat from the jog cooling on my skin.

  No one else came along the riverbank as I bit down anxiously on my lip, waiting what seemed like hours, wondering who the woman was and what she was doing inside.

  Eventually, I heard footsteps on the path, and Mitchell and I poked our heads around the side of the bush. The woman was jogging away from Klein’s house, pulling a balaclava up off her head. As she ran past our hidden location, she unpeeled a pair of latex gloves and then stuffed both items in her backpack without breaking her stride. She also had a pair of plastic shoe covers on.

  When she was well out of sight, Mitchell turned to me and said, ‘Do you know who she is?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I think she’s Detective Becky Harris.’

  I frowned, not recognising the name.

  ‘She used to work with Detective Carter.’

  A shiver passed through me. Bloodbath Farm was the name given by the media to the place I’d been held captive. Detective Carter had been there the night I was rescued. Along with Mitchell, he’d helped to save my life, and he’d kept quiet about everything that had happened in order to protect me. I hadn’t seen him since, although I’d followed the police investigation in the papers. ‘Does that mean the police have worked things out?’

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on, but she was trying to hide her identity and any possible transfer of forensic evidence.’ He glanced at me, thinking about that for a moment. ‘And her backpack was much bulkier and heavier when she left the house. She took something from inside. But why was she there alone? Even if the police suspected something’s been going on, and this was a genuine covert op, I doubt they’d be sending her in without some kind of backup. They’d need to seize anything with proper protocols, which means they’d probably need another colleague with her as a witness to cover their arses.’

  ‘So what did she take?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s the big question.’

  ‘Do you think she could be working for Regen Logistix?’

  ‘Not if that was Harris, no.’ He shook his head emphatically.

  ‘What makes you so sure?’

  ‘She’s one of the good guys.’

  ‘But how do you know that?’

  ‘After what happened at Bloodbath Farm, I was the one who gave Detective Carter evidence to prove top-level police corruption and conspiracy.’

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘Well, that’s not all I’ve helped him with. Over the years, I’ve provided Carter with evidence to put criminals away when he couldn’t get information from legal channels.’

  My eyes widened. ‘You kept that quiet.’

  He shrugged. ‘A while back, Carter and Becky Harris were working on a multiple-murder case. They needed intel relating to a corrupt police officer they were investigating, but they couldn’t get the proof, so Carter came to me, and I got what he needed from Lee. And I’ve done it many times since. After they solved their joint investigation, Becky was at a press conference, and I’m pretty sure that was her. Becky is Carter’s protégée, and I know she’s s
olid. Carter trusts her completely. And if that’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.’

  ‘So it’s possible Klein’s came up on her radar for some reason, but why? And what did she take?’ My gaze drifted back to the path Becky Harris had disappeared along.

  ‘I don’t know. But we need to get in touch with Carter and find out what the hell’s going on. This time, we need some intel from him.’ He tilted his head in the direction of Klein’s house. ‘We should abort the search. If that was Harris, it’s likely she’s already found what we were looking for.’

  Chapter 56

  Detective Becky Harris

  I drove to my house, breaking a few speed limits on the way, adding yet more offences to my growing list.

  In my head, I replayed the scene of almost getting caught. Halfway to my place, I laughed hysterically with relief as the reality sank in that I’d managed to escape without them knowing. Twice.

  I pulled onto my drive and grabbed my backpack, glancing around the rest of the street for anyone suspicious. Not that I thought anyone had followed me, but with the kind of reach these people had, it would be stupid not to be observant. There were no vehicles that looked as if they could be on surveillance and no pedestrians. The street was quiet, but my brain was anything but, thoughts and emotions firing off in all directions.

  I let myself inside, sat down at the kitchen table, and opened up my backpack. I pulled the files from it and went through them in greater detail. Anger, disgust, and outrage coursed through me in equal measures as I read Klein’s notes on what he and the others had done to those poor victims. His detailed records were so dispassionately written as to be purely sociopathic.