The Lucifer Network

by Geoffrey Archer

  ‘He had a syringe concealed in a pen,’ Sam responded firmly. He didn’t blame her for asking, after all that had happened in the past few days. ‘And if you want to check up on me, there was an Austrian policeman present too.’

  She reddened slightly, then apologised. ‘I wasn’t really suggesting . . .’

  He shrugged to show it didn’t matter. They walked on but without touching, as if an invisible screen separated them.

  Julie still needed to be clear about things. Ts crossed and Is dotted. ‘So the red mercury that my dad wrote about . . .’

  ‘. . . was actually a load of virus samples from a Russian research lab. He shipped them to a remote island where a bunch of cash-hungry Russian scientists turned them into terrorist weapons. Hoffmann’s underlings were about to unleash a new strain of smallpox amongst refugee communities in Germany.’

  Julie hugged her arms to her chest. ‘It’s so shaming,’ she whispered. ‘All so appallingly shaming.’

  Sam put his arm round her again. ‘We’re not responsible for what our fathers do,’ he told her pointedly.

  ‘No! We certainly are not.’ She bit her lip. There were still details missing. Things he was holding back. ‘What about Max? He was involved, or not?’

  ‘We’re not sure.’ Sam told her about the cut-price medical equipment stolen from African hospitals. ‘He claimed that was the only deal he had going with your father, but he went into hiding as soon as Hoffmann’s death hit the news media, which suggests he probably was involved in the Lucifer Network.’

  Julie detached herself from him and clasped both hands to her head. Her brain felt as if it was about to leap from her skull.

  ‘I can’t believe I spent all that time with Max and never realised what sort of a man he was.’ Then she kicked herself. ‘But then, why not? It’s been the story of my life as far as men are concerned.’ Which was why she was desperate to know what made Sam tick before getting more deeply involved with him.

  They walked on. Julie took Sam’s hand. She wanted to move them forward. To separate their relationship from the horrors they’d been involved in. But there was one last hangover from the past that she had to clear up.

  ‘What I said to you the other day . . . about wanting Max dead. And sort of suggesting that you might . . .’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it. You do realise that, don’t you? I was just in a state.’

  Sam too wanted to move on. To steer well clear of the subject of death and to engineer a way to part Julie from her mother and son so they could go back to the flat and make love.

  ‘And now?’ he asked, caringly. ‘You feel okay? Not in a state any more?’

  She pulled a tight smile. ‘Sort of. I’m pretty well back on the rails.’ But she hadn’t finished what she needed to say. ‘It’s just that when I said what I said, I may have given the impression I still thought you were involved in my father’s murder . . .’

  Sam swallowed and looked away.

  ‘I want to assure you I don’t think that,’ she persisted. ‘I fully accept you had nothing to do with his death.’

  There it was, the pothole in the middle of the road.

  ‘Closed subject from now on,’ he suggested. ‘Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  She beamed at him. He kissed her tenderly on the end of her nose. Her shiny hair smelled of roses, a scent he wanted to imprint all over that MoD flat.

  They reached a footpath and turned right, walking slowly past a Japanese couple bending over a screaming baby in a pushchair.

  ‘And how are you after all this, Sam?’ she asked, solemnly.

  ‘In need of a bed,’ he told her. ‘With you in it.’

  ‘Sam . . . I’m serious.’ She tugged at his arm. ‘I mean, what’s going to happen to you?’

  ‘Well . . .’ He hugged her to his side. ‘I just told you what I’d like to happen.’ The need to make love to her had become like a dam, preventing the flow of normal thought and conversation.

  Julie resisted him, but gently. She too wanted more of what they’d shared in Vienna.

  ‘I meant what happens about your job, Sam. I blew your cover. You said you faced the sack.’

  ‘Yes, well . . . It’s not quite as bad as that.’

  She stopped, sensing he was concealing something significant from her. ‘You’re not saying life goes on as normal?’

  ‘Effectively . . . Yes.’

  Sam saw the emotions of hope and expectation pass across her face and realised he was handling this outrageously badly. She was a beautiful woman whose experience of men was of being messed around mercilessly. And here he was stringing her along like the worst of them. The reality was that there was nothing in this for her. Nothing long term, anyway. They inhabited different worlds. Neither could cross to the other’s and there was no middle ground. He took in a deep breath.

  ‘I’ll be going away.’

  Julie let her arms fall to her sides. It was what she’d feared all along. Almost expected. The logical outcome of all that had happened. But it still hurt to hear it. She wasn’t ready to lose him, but she didn’t know how not to. She looked down, then back towards where she’d last seen her son.

  ‘You’ll have to, of course,’ she whispered. She shook her head at the irony of it. Because of her stupid loyalty to her father she was going to lose the man who’d exposed his manipulativeness to her. She would never get it right with men. Close by, a solitary old woman scattered chunks of stale white bread to swooping pigeons. Julie imagined herself ending up like that one day. She stuck out her chin, turned back towards the lake and began to walk.

  Sam hooked his arm round her shoulders again, slowing her down. He felt great warmth for this damaged woman. He knew what his immediate interest in her was, but the future was another country for him. He could make no commitment to her.

  ‘It’s a funny thing, human nature, isn’t it?’ Julie said, pulling herself together and nestling against him. ‘We’re attracted most to the things that are bad for us.’

  ‘Should I be reacting to that?’

  ‘Oh, if you like. It was a compliment.’ They walked on a few more paces. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, Julie decided she had nothing to lose by baring her soul. ‘I mean I think you’ll have got the message by now that I’m strongly attracted to you.’ She tried to make it sound matter-of-fact, but failed. ‘However, I suppose that if you weren’t going away and we ended up in some sort of relationship – it’d probably be a disaster.’

  Sam stopped walking, bruised by the fact that she should have concluded that.

  ‘Why d’you think that?’ he challenged.

  ‘You have too many secrets,’ Julie continued, looking up at him. ‘Too many closed rooms where the light never shines.’

  Sam arched his eyebrows, riled at having been written off so easily. Then he looked away and saw Maeve and the boy walking towards them clutching ice-cream cones. Julie followed his gaze. Sam felt the elastic pulling.

  ‘Of course it all depends on what you mean by a relationship,’ he mumbled defensively.

  She swung round to face him again. Of course it damn well did.

  ‘What do you mean by it, Sam?’

  He looked at her. Saw her need to believe in him and knew there was only one way to achieve that. To give her the blunt, unvarnished truth.

  ‘At this particular point in my life I’m in no position to think much beyond the present, Julie. Therefore a relationship to me is all to do with the here and the now. I’m dead certain of one thing. That I want to make love to you. Now. This very minute.’

  Julie knew she would never be able to win with a man, because she wasn’t really in control of her own body. It was the pheromones that had the upper hand.

  ‘Well . . . That’s nothing if not honest,’ she whispered. She turned to look at her approaching child. ‘Wait here, will you?’

  Sam nodded.

  As she began to move towards her son, she turned her head ba
ck. ‘Don’t go away . . .’

  He watched as she ran across the grass, then crouched in front of Liam. Half a minute later she was back with him.

  ‘Mum’ll take Liam back to Woodbridge,’ Julie announced, hooking her arm through his and walking him quickly away before Liam could throw a tantrum. ‘It was nearly time anyway.’

  They marched through the crowds, brushing elbows with strangers in their haste to get somewhere where they could be alone. It wasn’t until they reached the Alexandra gate that Julie thought of asking where he was taking her. Sam pointed to the mansion flats opposite.

  ‘Hey, mister . . . They’re pretty grand. I’m impressed.’

  ‘It’s just for a few weeks.’

  They stopped by the kerb to wait for a break in the traffic, glancing wordlessly at one another, their eyes burning with frustration that something so important to both of them could be delayed by mere machines. Eventually the lights changed and they crossed the road.

  At the entrance to the apartments Sam tapped in a security code. Inside the lobby a civilian-suited man with the build of a Royal Marine scrutinised them knowingly, then clicked a button to unlock the inner door. As they passed through and waited by the lift Julie asked what sort of residents merited such security measures.

  ‘Official secret,’ Sam mumbled, touching her lips with a finger. The lift doors opened.

  ‘You and your secrets. I said you had too many of them.’

  As the doors closed behind them, she was all over him. They kissed like teenagers, their mouths locked. A few seconds later the lift stopped with a jolt.

  ‘Not the penthouse, then,’ she grumbled, annoyed the ride had been so short.

  Sam led her along the corridor. As they entered the flat she wrinkled her nose at the smell of furniture polish. He clicked the door shut with his heel. She was standing with her back to him, peering into the flat. He slipped an arm round her waist, then with the other hand lifted the hair from the back of her neck, exposing the cirrus cloud wisps at the nape. When he kissed them, she shivered from the pleasure of it.

  They shed their clothes on the way into the bedroom. Her breasts were small and round, the nipples already hard. When he kissed them she gave little sniffs of pleasure.

  ‘I want you inside me.’ Her voice was as dry as a husk as she sank onto one of the beds. ‘Now, Sam.’

  He pulled the covers back and they lay down.

  ‘Cos I don’t know how much time we’ve got,’ she whispered, as he moved on top of her. ‘And I don’t want to waste any of it.’

  24

  THEY SLEPT FOR a couple of hours after making love. It was dusk outside when they awoke, a purple sky visible through the open window. The temperature had dropped quite noticeably. Julie shivered and Sam pulled the covers over them.

  ‘I need your bathroom,’ she croaked.

  ‘Next door along.’

  He watched her shivering body as she walked from the room. Her skinny stomach and tight little rear gave her a rangy look. By the time she returned from the bathroom he wanted her again.

  Julie straddled him and made love to him slowly, trying to prolong the time she had power over him. When he finally reached his shuddering end, she let her upper body fall forward, resting her head in the dip of his shoulder. As his fingers caressed the back of her head, she closed her eyes. Whether this affair lasted a week or a month, feelings this strong came rarely and they were to be savoured.

  They lay quietly together, listening to the rumble of London’s traffic and the occasional passing jet. Then the noise was echoed by sounds from Julie’s stomach. She lifted herself off him and rolled onto her side.

  ‘Any food in this little palace of yours?’ she asked. ‘We gave Liam a McDonald’s for lunch, but all I had was a diet-cola.’

  ‘No idea. I didn’t look.’

  ‘Shall I go see?’

  ‘Excellent idea.’

  She wrapped one of the bedspreads round herself for warmth and padded into the kitchen. She found the fridge astonishingly well stocked. Eggs, cheese, milk, sausages and a large pepperoni pizza, plus a fresh Romaine lettuce and some tomatoes. On the opposite side of the small space was a built-in oven. She turned it up to 200 degrees.

  ‘Supper in about twenty minutes. Okay?’ she shouted.

  ‘Wonderful.’

  Thirty minutes later they’d showered and dressed and were seated at the repro dining table, eating. Sam had found a bottle of wine and a CD labelled Music for Candlelight which he’d inserted into the hi-fi in the corner.

  ‘Whoever’s looking after you must think pretty highly of you,’ Julie commented, getting stuck into the food. ‘This place is pretty swish for a temporary home.’

  Sam shrugged. ‘They happened to have it available. If not, they’d have put me in a shoebox at some army camp.’

  Julie tried to imagine life for a man always looking over his shoulder, forever on the move. And if he’d had to give up being an intelligence agent, what then? She couldn’t imagine him in a normal job.

  Imagining was pointless anyway. In a few weeks’ time this would be history.

  ‘D’you . . . do you know when you’ll be going away?’ she asked, breaking her resolve not to raise the subject.

  ‘No.’

  They ate on in silence. Her question had made him withdraw into himself and she kicked herself for asking it.

  ‘Coffee?’

  Sam shook his head. He was back in Vienna, annoyed with himself for letting Max Schenk slip through his fingers in Stammersdorf three nights ago. Now the man was on the run. Determined to survive. And that made him dangerous.

  Julie saw that she’d lost him and decided to bring the day to an end while she was still on a high.

  ‘I’m going to have to go home to Acton,’ she told him. ‘I’ve got an early start in the morning. We still have to find an antidote to that rabies variant. The virus exists now, so it’ll turn up again. They always do.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Sam resolved to ring Waddell shortly to see if the Porton people had found any reference to the mutation on the Russians’ laptop. ‘I’ll drive you home,’ he told her.

  ‘That’s okay,’ she murmured, a little disappointed he’d made no effort to persuade her to stay. ‘I can get the Piccadilly Line.’

  ‘I’ll drive you,’ he insisted.

  ‘Well, okay. Thanks. I’ll just clear up a bit.’

  ‘Leave it. You made the supper. I’ll clear it up later.’

  She shrugged. It was becoming obvious he wanted to be rid of her. She stood up, telling herself not to be upset.

  Five minutes later they were in the car driving west. When he stopped at traffic lights Sam gripped her hand. ‘It’s been great today,’ he said gently. ‘And I hope Liam doesn’t take it out on you when you see him next.’

  ‘He will, but don’t worry about it,’ Julie answered. ‘I give him plenty of attention and he knows I’ve got a life of my own to lead.’ Even if she didn’t know where it was heading.

  ‘He’s a nice kid,’ Sam commented.

  ‘He’s lovely – most of the time.’ The one part of her life that was constant. The one person whose needs she was certain she could satisfy.

  At the Chiswick roundabout, Sam turned north, heading towards Gunnersbury.

  ‘I’ll give you a ring tomorrow,’ he told her. ‘D’you like theatre?’

  ‘I don’t often go. Christmas panto was the last time.’

  ‘I’ll look in the papers and see what’s on.’

  ‘That’d be nice.’

  Three minutes later they turned into Julie’s street. Sam looked out for the house with the washing machine but couldn’t see it.

  ‘Here,’ Julie shouted as they drove past her home. Sam stepped on the brake.

  ‘Where’s the . . .?’

  ‘The landlord’s moved it,’ she answered. ‘Having the press snapping pictures of the place shamed him into it. He saw my face in the paper and decided I must be important.’

&
nbsp; ‘You are,’ Sam said, kissing her mouth.

  ‘I wonder,’ she whispered, hooking her fingers into his shirt. How important, was what she wanted to know.

  ‘See you soon, then.’

  ‘Yes please.’

  They got out. He draped his arm round her as they walked to the front door. When she turned the key and opened up, the hall of the house smelled of cooking spices and stale cigar smoke.

  ‘Thanks for having me,’ she purred, stroking his face.

  ‘Don’t suppose you fancy another quick one . . .’ he rumbled, nuzzling her ear.

  ‘Get outta here.’

  They kissed again and he promised to ring tomorrow. Then he walked back to the car.

  Julie smiled to herself as she crossed the hall to the door of her flat. The day had been very special. Whatever happened, it’d be something to hold onto. She inserted her key, opened up and stepped inside her bedsitter, closing the door behind her without turning on the light.

  She leaned against the door for a moment, as if unwilling to step further into the emptiness that awaited her here. Preferring darkness to light so she wouldn’t see the squalor of the place where she slept. She didn’t want to live like a student any more, she realised. She wanted to share some proper, decent living space. To make a home with someone. With Sam.

  She filled her lungs with air and let out a long sigh, trying not to let her imagination run away with her. Telling herself it wasn’t going to last with him and she simply had to accept it.

  Suddenly she froze. She’d heard a noise. The sound of someone swallowing.

  Fear gripped her. An icy shiver ran up her spine. The sinister, guttural sound had been very close. Petrified, she reached behind her back for the door handle, knowing that if she didn’t get out of this room immediately she was going to die. Because she knew who it was who was in there with her. Knew it from the smell of cigar smoke that clung to him like some vile ectoplasm.

  Before she could turn the door handle, a hand clamped over her mouth and another cupped the back of her neck and jerked her forward into the room.

  She wanted to scream, but no sound came.

  Sam guided the car through the back streets of Acton, heading for the main A4 into central London. By rights he should have been wallowing in the contentment Julie had left him with, but he couldn’t get it out of his head that there was a missing link in the puzzle.