“I have to ask, Doctor Levins, was there anyone hurt in the blast?”
He reached into the filing cabinet and pulled out a set of keys. “Teresa caught a little of the blast. We’re quite lucky it was a small bomb, this time. Easy enough to pass as a gas explosion” He grinned back at me, knowing I hadn’t fallen for the cover story.
“Really? She looked fine just then.”
“She was very lucky. She was just passing close to the building when it went. If it wasn’t for these old thick walls, she may not have been so lucky.”
“Her work wasn’t ruined, was it? I know no-one wants to fall behind here.” My insides shuddered at the thought of failing.
Levins shrugged. “No. That particular lab block isn’t often used. It’s more of a storage area really. She was just passing,” he said, as he began pulling books from one of the shelves.
“Can I help?”
He shook his head, but didn’t turn. “You’re continuing to research the bombings? How far have you gotten in your research?”
I crossed my legs and sat back in the chair. “We know that each of the bombs have contained some form of biological weapon. The police don’t know what it is, except it seems to make people implode. What’s really confusing is that not everyone gets infected. Some people don’t suffer with,” I paused, determined to get the pronunciation correct, “extreme necrosis.” I felt ridiculous saying the words aloud to an actual scientist. “And, I know you’ve been brought in to advise.”
He stacked the books from the shelf on the floor beside him. Behind, sat at the back of the shelf was a small black safe. He stretched up and pushed one of the keys into the lock. It clicked and he opened it to reveal a stack of paper files. He reached in and pulled one out.
He turned to look at me, appraisingly. “I need to know I can trust you, Miss Grove.”
“Of course, Doctor Levins.”
He sat in the chair opposite me and held the file between us. “I need to trust that this information is used correctly and responsibly. It is not customary for me to provide a first year with vital evidence in a current crime.” He looked to the door, before returning his gaze back to mine. His frown lines creased into his forehead. “You have a team working with you?”
“Yes. Fern, from your lab, plus two Wolves, two Spiders, a Shark and me.”
“I see you’ve taken to the nicknames. Personally, I don’t like to be referred to as a Rat.”
I shrugged as he smirked. “I didn’t think you would know their names.”
“Good point.” He held up the file again. “This group are trustworthy?”
“I think so. We’ve just had one join us, but he’s determined to bring an end to the bombings, so I trust him.”
He held up his hand. “If I’m going to assist you, Miss Grove, that’s rule number one. No-one is going to go out and stop these bombings. You will help investigate and leave the legwork to the police. Is that clear?”
I nodded, though didn’t really see what the big difference was. I hadn’t gone out of my way to seek any of the bombs, yet had now been present at two of them.
“I understand that you need this to get through your task and I would never dream of hindering that. But, you have to be vigilant. You have chosen a severe subject, the danger is real.” He watched me, unblinking.
I gulped and tried not to shrink back into my chair. “We will be safe. We’re doing most of the work from the house, through computers.”
“Good.” He sighed and handed me the file. “This is for your eyes only. Use it to direct your investigation, but do not let it out of your sight. Do not upload it to any electronic devices. And, do not speak of it to anyone but your team.”
“What is it?”
He glanced at the door again before answering. “You are correct in saying that each of the bombs contained biological components. Teresa told you about the break in here?”
“And about your research being copied. It’s your delivery system?”
He grinned. “Do you understand what that means?”
My cheeks flushed. “Not exactly.”
“It means that the biological delivery system which I invented has been adapted to carry an unknown toxin which infects specific groups. My delivery system has been present within every bomb.”
He watched me, waiting for me to somehow get what he was trying to spell out for me. I thought over his words. “Your delivery system was present at every one. But, does that mean that the toxin wasn’t?”
He clapped his hands together loudly. “Exactly. Not everyone was infected, yet the delivery system was there. Therefore, the toxin must be being added at the last moment. Somehow, this is leaving some people unaffected. Now think, Miss Grove. Why would the bomber wait until the last moment to add the toxin?”
I folded my arms, tapping my toe as I tried to picture the bomber. They had a bomb, they had the delivery system.
“Well, it would be quicker for them to put it in before planting the bomb. So, if they didn’t, it must mean that the toxin is either unstable or time sensitive.” I watched Levins grin spread as I spoke. “And you say it only infects specific groups?”
“I did. We are yet to determine what differs between each group. You may hold some light there.”
My head snapped up. “Me? How can I shed light?”
“You were at an explosion. Many around you were infected, but not you.”
I felt sick. My mind raced back to the image of sitting on the floor surrounded by bodies covered by white sheets. I knew the truth about the theatre explosion. I knew all those white sheets were victims of the biological weapon. But, I also knew that for whatever reason, I had been spared. I had lived, while all those people around me had died.
“There was so many. So quickly.”
“There was. But not you, or Mark. Whatever the delivery system was told to target, it was something you didn’t have.”
“But, how is it targeting specific people? How were those people so different from us?” My voice was barely audible.
He sat back in his chair, rubbing his hand through his thinning hair. “I’m working now to decipher what it’s targeting and how to counteract it. Mark’s work has been invaluable.” He pointed to the file in my hand.
“This is Mark’s work?”
“Yes. Although we don’t know much about the toxin, we do know that it’s working on the genetic level. We think Mark’s work is the key to finding some kind of vaccine or counter agent.”
I flicked through the pages of the file, not understanding any of it. It was filled with diagrams and numbers.
“But, why Mark’s research? Did it get copied during the break in, like yours?”
Levins lowered his head. “No. Evidence suggests that Mark’s work files have only been accessed by himself. It seems we are relying on him to solve this for us all.” He rubbed his stubble absentmindedly.
“But, aren’t you more qualified than him? I don’t mean to be rude, but he’s still training.” I felt my cheeks redden as he looked up at me with a grin.
“It’s true, I am a gene therapist. But, no one person can be an expert in every avenue of gene therapy. I specialise in delivery methods and recognition. I can study your genes, tell you where they may be a flaw. But, there are some areas where I would be less qualified than a masters student.” He smirked, as if humoured by his admission.
“And Mark, where does he specialise?”
Levins hesitated. “In manipulation. Mark’s research looks into repairing and manipulating a person’s genetic makeup.”
I looked down at my notes, flipping through the pages. The words I had jotted during my discussion with Teresa jumped from the page like they were flashing lights.
“A mass cellular breakdown.”
“Pardon me?”
“When I spoke to Teresa. She said that the people had suffered a mass cellular breakdown.” I watched him, waiting for his reply. He didn’t speak.
“Doctor Levins,
if Mark’s research is to manipulate the genes, could that also be applied to causing a mass cellular breakdown?”
He shook his head, smiling at my misunderstanding. “It’s similar, but crucially different. A person would need a significant understanding of genetic manipulation to transform Mark’s work to that degree.”
“But, if they had the understanding to follow your work, surely they could tweak his?”
Levins suddenly stood and backed away. He ran his hand through his hair, pacing the room, muttering to himself without pausing for breath.
“It can’t be. Mark’s work is specifically engineered to target dysfunctional genes. He created it to help people. Mark wants to help people.” He looked at me pleadingly. “It can’t be him.”
I jumped to my feet. “No. I didn’t mean I think it’s Mark.” I held up my hands helplessly, mimicking a stop gesture. “I mean, could someone be using his work? If the bomber has an understanding of genetics, they could also have an understanding of how to adapt Mark’s work. Surely, with his notes, they could adapt, even crudely adapt, his work? You said yourself it doesn’t target everyone.”
He was wringing his hands, pacing the room. “But his work is ground breaking. He’s stringed together theories which most cannot comprehend. How could anyone hope to adapt such research in so little time?”
“Doctor Levins, if they broke in and stole your work, they could have stolen his.”
He was shaking his head before I finished talking. “I told you, we checked the records. Nobody got into his files. Nobody has that research, but Mark. There’s no other explanation.”
I began to protest and he held up a finger to silence me.
“I cannot stress how advanced his research is. I am the only other scientist who has aided in this research and I can promise you, no one without prior knowledge could manipulate Mark’s work. It is simply too advanced. But above this, we need to look at the facts.”
“What facts?” My voice was curt.
“He has been present at two bombings. Here last night and at the theatre. He has the expertise, and his research wasn’t stolen.” He sat back in his chair and leaned toward me, taking my hands. “Miss Grove, you must take care. Do not reveal to Mark what we suspect.”
I shuffled back. “Maybe whoever took your research wanted it to look like they didn’t take Mark’s? I’ve learnt enough from working with Owen, computers can pretty much cover any tracks.”
He slumped back in his chair. “Then, the thief wanted it to look like they only took my files? Possibly.”
“So, why would they want to hide the fact they had Mark’s research and not yours?”
Levins didn’t answer. He scrubbed his chin, sightlessly staring at the lines of books on his shelves. I sat on my hands, the only way to stop myself from biting my nails in frustration.
“Because,” he finally continued, “the people who could understand Mark’s work are few and far between. My work was simpler to follow. I’ve been working on it for many, many years, simplifying the technique. Most people with a degree in genetics would have the ability to comprehend it. But, Mark’s work, it’s in its preliminary stages. He’s created some ground-breaking methods of his own invention. Understanding it enough to implement it…” He looked to me, his face sombre.
“Miss Grove, if we are correct, if it is indeed not Mark, but an imposter using his work, the suspects are dramatically reduced.”
“I have to report this.” I snatched my bag from the floor and slung it over my shoulder.
Levins stood and put his hand on my shoulder. “Wait.”
I began to protest before he held up a finger.
“I will investigate first. If we give this information to the police now, Mark will be prime suspect. Let me see if I can prove his innocence first.”
I shuddered. I was so enthusiastic to report my discovery, I hadn’t thought about Mark. I was about to throw him to the bears without a thought.
“You’re right. I will do some research too.”
“Come back and let me know what you find.”
“I will,” I called, as I rushed from the room.
* * *
My head was buzzing. The thought of Mark having something to do with the bombs made me sick to my stomach. It couldn’t be him. In my head, all evidence was beginning to point to him: the timing of the theatre bomb, the use of his research? But, in my heart, I knew it couldn’t be.
I opened the front door to be bowled over by a mass of fur. Mendel was pouncing round me frantically trying to get free. I groaned as he jumped up to slobber over my face.
“He’s been like that all morning,” Ash said, poking his head out from the living room.
I fought my way free and rubbed myself down. Dog hair flew from me and fluttered to the floor.
“Everyone here?”
“Yep, apart from Fern,” Ash said, holding the living room door open for me.
“I just saw her at the lab.”
“Thought you were going to tell me when you were heading out? How can I protect you when I don’t know where you are?”
I was about to snap a frustrated retort in Ash’s direction when he smiled down at me. I slapped his shoulder playfully as I passed him.
I pulled out the file Levins had just given me and joined my team. Bree, Owen, Jay and Warwick were crushed together on the settee.
As I entered, Jay switched a button on a black box and began to circle the room. “All clear.”
“What’s clear?” Bree asked.
Jay snapped the box off and retook his seat. “We found surveillance in here not too long ago. Listening devices.”
“In here? Who planted those?” Bree asked.
“No idea, but they were high tech. We only found them by chance.” Jay opened his laptop and keyed in a code word. The screen filled with interference. “In case I missed any. This will most likely block anything.”
“You sure?” I asked.
“Sure as I can be. What we on with?” Jay said, waiting with the others for my report.
I retold the conversation I’d had with Levins. Like me, they couldn’t understand why someone would hide that they had stolen Mark’s work and not Levins’.
As I got onto the subject of the cellular breakdown Owen went green. “You really think they have a weapon that can affect your genetics? I didn’t realise it was that invasive. Not down to the genes. How the buggerin’ hell can we defend against that?”
“But, I thought we always knew about the biological part?” Bree asked.
Owen’s eyes bulged. “Yeah, but with Levins connecting it to Mark’s research, it means only a professional could be doing it. This isn’t some half-arsed botch job. People were chosen to die, specifically. This person, whoever is setting the bombs, knows what they’re doing. They’re organised. That makes them all the more dangerous.”
“Owen’s right,” Jay said, “how’re we supposed to defend against it?”
“I don’t think we can,” I said. “I think that’s up to Mark. He needs to find a way to, I don’t know, block it? Counteract it? Right now, we need to find out who is trying to frame him.”
Ash cleared his throat. “Don’t we need to focus on trying to find the bomber? I know you want to clear your boyfriend’s name, but it can’t be the priority right now.”
My mouth flopped open. The room, silent. “My boyfriend? Where did that idea come from?”
As I spoke, Mendel ponded into the room and slumped next to me on the floor. Ash nodded pointedly at the dog.
“I was talking to Mark when the bomb went off. He asked me to hold his dog while he ran to help.”
“I still think we should be focussing on the bomber,” Ash said, his voice determined.
I laughed. “Ash, they’re the same.” I leaned forward and stroked Mendel. “The person who took the research, the person who’s trying to use Mark and Levins’ work, is the bomber. If we can find who’s setting Mark up, we find the bomber.”
&n
bsp; Bree jumped up and clapped her hands, closely followed by an excited Mendel. “Then we have a target. Where do we start?”
I stood to match her. “How do you two feel about a little breaking and entering?”
Bree grinned eagerly. “I feel quite giddy about it.”
I turned to Ash to include him in the conversation. “I need you both to break into Mark’s house. We don’t want him to know you were there, but we need to find evidence of his whereabouts during every bombing. If we can rule him out as a subject, then we can bring the police in and this will run a lot faster.” I paced the room as I spoke.
“Here,” Jay shouted, as he rummaged in a large bag by his feet, “plant these where they’ll get a good view, but hidden.” He handed them a handful of tiny cameras.
“And this.” Warwick pulled what looked like a sticker from his wallet. He handed it to Ash without another word.
“What is it?” Ash asked.
“I call it a snoop,” he shrugged, looking overly nonchalant, “just stick it to the bottom of his laptop, if it’s there. I can monitor everything from here.”
Owen laughed. “You can’t be serious. They’ve never made them that small. That tiny thing will copy his files?”
“No, it won’t copy them. But, it’ll connect to my computer every time he switches it on. I’ll see what he sees.”
Jay leaned over and slung his arms around Warwick’s shoulders. “My god you’re amazing. Marry me.” Warwick shoved him away with a smirk.
“That’s unbelievable, Warwick,” Owen said, his mouth wide open in awe. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. Not this advanced. Where’d you get it?”
He shrugged. “I made a few of them a while ago. Don’t work over too far a distance, but will do for what we need.”
“You made this?” Owen shouted. “Wick, this is bloody brilliant. What else have you come up with?” He stepped over the bags of supplies, forgetting the room.
Warwick grinned sheepishly. “The usual stuff, just with more memory, signal, and where I can, I make them smaller.”
Trials in Walls of Ivy (Triskelion Trilogy Book 1) Page 17
