‘I’m going to go see Connie straight away,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you won’t come with me?’
‘I won’t. I need to get Jasper. Anyway, I don’t think I’d know what to say …’
‘It’s OK,’ said Jones.
‘Is it?’ Ed enquired rhetorically.
It took Jones about twenty minutes to walk from Ed’s apartment to the narrow, white-terraced house, in one of the university town’s leafiest streets, which Connie had inherited from her mother.
She opened the front door swiftly. Her hair seemed bigger and redder than ever. She was wearing a lime green top and bright orange trousers with a rip in one knee. In spite of all that had happened, some things didn’t change.
‘My God, it’s good to see you, Sandy Jones. Our saviour!’
She led Jones straight up the stairs to a light airy bedroom where Marion lay propped up in a big lace-covered bed, a cradle over one leg.
‘I’m getting to be a dab hand with bedpans.’ said Connie cheerfully.
Connie seemed almost unnaturally cheerful. Jones glanced across at Marion. The pain she was suffering was clear in her face, but she greeted Jones with a warm smile.
‘How are you doing, Marion?’ Jones asked gently.
‘Not so badly.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘She’s going to be just fine,’ interjected Connie, again with excessive cheeriness, Jones thought. ‘We can’t wait to get her a new leg, can we, Marion, sweetheart?’
Marion said nothing. She just smiled again. Rather more wanly, Jones thought.
‘Anyway, you’d never guess what’s gone on here since you hit the newsstands, Sandy,’ Connie continued, beaming at Jones. ‘They’re going to rebuild the RECAP lab. Only it’ll be even better than before. New equipment, new everything, and maybe even proper staff again. Certainly a proper budget.’
She glanced fondly towards Marion. ‘Thomas is fixing it all. Marion’s son, the Dean of Princeton, and now the other saviour of RECAP. After you, Sandy, of course.’
She turned to face Jones.
‘Isn’t it just great? Thomas says it’s the least he can do. He’s going to use some foundation money or something. I don’t know. Anything to do with finances is a mystery to me, but Thomas says he’s pretty sure he can carry the university’s governing bodies with him.’
She paused, still beaming at Jones, who made no reply.
‘It’s marvellous, isn’t it?’ Connie continued, apparently unaware of, or simply untroubled by, Jones’s silence. ‘And you won’t believe the other marvellous thing. Thomas has actually known about Marion and me for a long time, since even before his father died, we think, though he’s never said that, and he’s quite happy about it. But he says he’s grateful to us for not going public, and grateful to you too, Sandy, for being discreet about our relationship when you revealed what you did to the press.’
Jones again said nothing. Connie carried on regardless.
‘And Dom and Gaynor are coming for the weekend. We want to thank them properly for everything.’
Jones spoke then, addressing Connie directly for the first time, quite curtly, with a harsh inflection in her voice.
‘Yes, and you’ll certainly have a lot to tell them.’
‘What?’ Connie sounded puzzled, uncertain, as indeed had been Jones’s intention.
Jones turned away and walked to the window. Only when she had her back to the other two women did she start to speak again. She couldn’t look at Connie. She just couldn’t.
‘I have a copy of Paul’s Theory of Consciousness,’ she said quietly.
There was a silence in the room, broken eventually by Marion.
‘Why, that’s wonderful. Isn’t it, Connie? Isn’t it?’
Connie said nothing.
‘I’ve studied it thoroughly,’ Jones continued. ‘I now have a pretty damned good understanding of it.’
Connie still didn’t speak. Jones took a deep breath and swung around to face her. Connie had sat down on the chair by the bed and was staring at Jones. Her green eyes wide open.
‘And you know what that means, Connie, don’t you?’
Connie shrugged, and still did not speak.
‘It means I know that Paul’s theory makes no sense at all. It’s fake. He was no closer to solving the mystery of consciousness than I am! His paper is garbage. A load of drivel. Crap!’
Connie leaned forwards in her chair, her eyes blazing.
‘And what exactly makes you so goddamned sure of that, Dr effin’ Jones. You’re just a TV scientist. You’re the fake. Paul was the leader in his field. The number one man. You abandoned the study of consciousness over twenty years ago.’
Jones sighed. ‘No Connie. You can’t bluff and bluster your way out of this one. I have quite sufficient knowledge. I worked long enough with you both. And, as you’ve always told me yourself, I have the gift, don’t I? No, Connie, no. There is no effective theory of consciousness. Just a garbled inconsequential jumble of—’
‘Maybe you’ve lost the gift, Sandy,’ Connie interjected. ‘You’ve certainly forgotten Radin’s rule. The mystery of consciousness could only ever be explained in new language.’
‘This wasn’t language at all. I went over and over it. Paul’s theory is rubbish. And you know that. You must have known that all along.’
‘Don’t be absurd, Sandy.’
Jones laughed grimly. Short and sharp.
‘You never give up, do you Connie Pike? You could always talk the hind leg off a donkey. It won’t wash any more. You knew the theory was rubbish, and you used that, you played games with it for your own ends. But then the whole thing spiralled out of control, didn’t it? Horrendously out of control. And you hadn’t bargained for that.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sandy.’
‘Oh yes, you do.’
Connie stood up abruptly. ‘Well, if we really must have this ridiculous conversation, shall we continue it downstairs? I don’t want Marion upset.’
‘No.’ Marion’s voice was surprisingly strong. She hauled herself further up onto the pillows. ‘No. Stay here. Both of you. Please Sandy, I want to hear this.’
Jones turned to her.
‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘You don’t know anything do you, Marion? You’ve even lost a leg because of this fucking mess, and she still hasn’t told you, has she?’
‘Told me what?’ Marion was sitting quite upright now, her eyes firmly focused on her partner. ‘What haven’t you told me, Connie?’
Connie sat down again.
‘I don’t know. I have no idea. Sandy seems to have all the answers. Let her tell us both. If she must.’
Jones looked at her. The woman had always had guts. She was still fighting to save the situation. But this time that was impossible. Even for Connie Pike.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll be as brief as I can and then you can ask me any questions you like, Marion. You deserve to know everything. Paul Ruders was a sick man. A very sick man. He had Alzheimer’s Disease and his mind was barely functioning at all by the end. I know this because a rather well-connected friend of mine has been doing some investigating. He gained access to Paul’s medical records. Apparently the problems began even before Gilda died. But, like many victims of this bloody awful disease, Paul refused to accept that his mind was affected in any way. He thought, or maybe he just kidded himself, who knows with Alzheimer’s, that his work was as valid, as considered, and as properly thought-out as ever. His communication skills were so highly developed that he covered up amazingly well, certainly during relatively short periods of time spent with people. You, Connie, were the only person who spent a lot of time with him. Even Ed saw very little of Paul latterly. He told me that. You covered for Paul, Connie. But his mind was in bits. He was convinced that he had solved the mystery of consciousness, and, of course, he shared his thoughts, and his work, such as it was, with you. He always did. And he shared his allegedly ground-breaking theory with
you too.
‘You, of course, were well aware the work was worthless. But you decided to use it. RECAP was indeed under threat, more than ever before, in spite of the success of the Global Consciousness Project worldwide. My friend also found out that you lost your last major grant over a year ago. You saw a way to use Paul’s deluded attempt at a theory of consciousness for your own ends. You thought that if the American government were convinced of the existence and the merit of his theory, RECAP would not only be saved, but its existence would be guaranteed. Certainly for your lifetime.’
Jones paused.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Marion, and her voice sounded very weak.
‘Connie knew about Ed’s brother, Michael, or Mikey MacEntee, being in the FBI,’ continued Jones. ‘She was also aware, as we all were, that he wasn’t the brightest kid on the block. In fact, God only knows how he got into the Feds. Anyway, Connie decided to exploit him, too. She used Mikey to draw attention to Paul’s alleged theory, a theory that she knew would attract enormous interest at the highest level—’
‘Oh my God,’ Marion interrupted.
Jones moved closer to the bed.
‘Yes, Marion. It wasn’t Ed, either knowingly or unknowingly, who was feeding his crazy brother information about RECAP. It was Connie. And Mikey, of course, jumped at the opportunity of being able to pass on exclusive, potentially revolutionary, information to his superiors, in order to acquire some self-importance. He always wanted desperately to be at the centre of things.
‘But Connie and Mikey were both right out of their depth. Yes, Connie had always talked about the suspicion in which people in high places held RECAP and its work. But she was also quite sure that the American government would not be able to resist the possibility of holding the secret of consciousness in its sticky paws – out of fear as much as anything. Fear of its ultimate power would also make it highly unlikely that the government would attempt to put the theory into use, and if they did, well it was actually rubbish, so it didn’t matter anyway.
‘It didn’t occur to Connie that this fear of the power of global consciousness was so extreme that there were those in government circles who would be prepared to violently destroy not only RECAP and the Global Consciousness Project but also the people who ran them. She believed that by feeding this pack of nonsense to those in power, she would safeguard RECAP’s future. Indeed I suspect that was what she asked for in return for keeping silent about the alleged theory for the good of America – a guaranteed future for RECAP, albeit under the tacit control of the US government. And as ever, that was all Connie really cared about.’
Jones glanced towards Connie. Her face was expressionless. Then she heard a little gulp from the bed.
‘Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Marion,’ said Jones.
‘No, go on, please.’
‘Right. Well, as we’ve all said many times, Paul’s reputation was such that once it was known that he believed he’d solved this extraordinary mystery, then most outsiders would assume he had indeed done so. His status in the field would ensure—’
‘Oh come on, Sandy,’ Connie interrupted. ‘You don’t really think the American government, or any of its agencies, would take the steps they did, steps that led to the sanctioning of murder, without at least being able to authenticate Paul’s paper, do you?’
‘No I don’t. I think you supplied Mikey with a copy of Paul’s flawed theory well before the night of the break-in when the bomb was planted in the lab. I think you copied the paper onto a USB and gave it to Mikey. You knew that nobody except a real expert in the field – and there aren’t many of those – would be able to make head or tail of it, even if it were genuine. And I have to admit, the paper did look the part. It looked like a genuine and very advanced scientific document, as, of course, it would, coming from Paul, even with a messed-up brain. You knew exactly what would happen after you supplied Mikey with that paper. His bosses came to you to authenticate it. Who else would they go to?
‘You supplied it and then you authenticated it, Connie. Brilliantly simple. A full circle. But you totally underestimated the lengths the bastards would go to in order to keep the secret of consciousness just that, didn’t you?’
Connie said nothing. Marion was staring at her.
‘It’s true, Connie, isn’t it,’ she said.
It was a statement not a question.
Suddenly Connie’s face crumpled. She began to cry.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘So sorry. It’s been awful keeping what I did a secret. After the explosion, well, I knew it was all my fault. Everything had gone horrendously wrong. I just wished I’d died too, along with Paul.’
Jones shrugged.
‘You did a bloody good job of carrying on and pulling even more wool over all our eyes,’ she said. ‘You treated RECAP like a game, Connie, but you had no idea who you were playing it with.’
‘I couldn’t foresee that they were going to blow up the lab. I didn’t know that was going to happen.’
‘Are you sure?’ Jones rapped the words out.
‘What do you mean, am I sure?’
‘Well, it was quite convenient wasn’t it, to say the least, that you were outside the lab having a smoke when the place was destroyed. Am I supposed to believe that was just a happy coincidence?’
‘Sandy, what are you saying? Of course it was a coincidence. Do you think I would ever have done what I did, if I’d thought for one second Paul might be killed? They were after me too. I had an extraordinarily lucky escape, that’s all. It never occurred to me that Mikey’s people would go that far.’
Jones actually did believe her. Connie had, after all, in her twisted way, been trying to protect RECAP, and maybe Paul as well. But Jones was angry.
‘Really?’ she queried edgily.
‘I can’t see into the future, Sandy.’
‘But you don’t mind manipulating it a bit, eh?’
‘Sandy, when I phoned you, before the explosion, I was going to tell you everything. Come clean. Things were happening, like I said. I was beginning to get scared. I realized it was all getting out of control. And the only person I could think of who might be able to sort it out was you. Because of your influence, because of your contacts, because of your knowledge. But it was all too late. I never did get to tell you …’
Her voice tailed off. Neither of the other two said anything. After a while Connie continued to speak.
‘Anyway, even though I’d been the mole, the deep throat, if you like, I realized, of course, when the bomb went off that I had been a target too, and that my life would still be in danger. I knew too much. So I went into hiding with Marion, as you both know. And I made myself just think about RECAP. I decided it was my mission to see that RECAP was reborn, that the work would continue, and that I survived to make sure of that.’
She paused again, leaning forwards in her chair towards the bed.
‘I’m so sorry, Marion. I should have told you. At first I just didn’t want to admit what I’d done. I’d got it all so wrong. And then, after you were mown down by the truck, well, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you. You’d been so badly injured, and that was my fault too.’
Connie reached for Marion. Marion turned away. Connie turned back to Jones. She’d stopped crying.
‘What will happen now?’ she asked.
‘Nothing much, probably,’ responded Jones. ‘It’s over, isn’t it? You won’t be brought to book for what you’ve done, Connie. The whole thing is too complex, and involves too many people in high places. You were certainly telling the truth about a cover up. That’s still going on, I can assure you. No, you could be regarded as having got away with it. In spite of all the death and suffering you caused. Apart from just two points.
‘The first is that if RECAP is ever relaunched, I, and the people I know, will make absolutely sure you never have anything to do with it again. And do not think for one moment that I can’t do that.
‘The second is that you have
to live with what you’ve done, and with the woman you love knowing what you have been responsible for, including the loss of her leg.’
‘I didn’t drive that truck, Sandy, and I would rather it had been me beneath it than Marion,’ said Connie, her voice little more than a whisper.
‘You are every bit as guilty as those who did drive that truck, Connie. Possibly more so. It was you who began it all.’
Jones paused. Connie said nothing more.
‘You know what,’ Jones continued, ‘I used to think you were the most unselfish person in the world, Connie. Now I think you might be the most selfish. You have irretrievably harmed the reputation of the very area of science which has always meant so much to you. One way and another the truth about Paul’s paper will get out, like these things do, which will be not only a blow to the project but also a tragic slur on the man. Because that man was no longer there when he wrote his flawed paper.’
Connie just stared at Jones, her facial expression undiscernible now.
‘Remember the question you used to ask all the time? Can six men in a room change the world?’
Connie nodded.
‘Yes, and they’re the only ones who can,’ she murmured.
‘But not if they lie, Connie. Not if they damned well lie.’
Jones didn’t want to be in the same place as Connie Pike any more. She hadn’t fully realized quite how much Connie had always meant to her. Suddenly it all seemed so meaningless. She headed for the door, turning to look back one last time.
Connie had moved closer to the bed, and was again reaching out towards Marion. Once more Marion pulled away.
Outside Jones half ran down the street. She was in a hurry to get away from Connie. She was also in a hurry to get back to Ed. Ed who knew what she knew. Ed who understood.
He met her at the door, Jasper jumping about at his feet. He must have been watching the street, waiting for her to return. His face was a picture of concern. Jones took one look at him and burst into tears.
She had been totally in control until she’d confronted Connie. She and Ed had been over everything again and again. It had been such a shock for both of them to discover what Connie Pike had done. But Jones had thought they’d each already more or less come to terms with it.
Cry Darkness Page 27
