Good Girl Bad Girl

by Ann Girdharry

  ***

  At the Capital Towers reception, Kal knew the ring of authority in her voice irked the receptionist. She didn’t bother to tone it down. So what if the woman kept a stereotype in her head that said all Indian women were passive and retiring? Today, she was in no mood to pander to all that shit. On the top floor, Sarah met Kal at the lift.

  “Hello, Kal, as I suppose you guessed, I always start early. Did you get any sleep?”

  “Enough, thanks,” Kal said. Sarah looked terrible and she sensed the caffeine kick-start to Sarah’s day. That particular night she guessed she’d got more rest than Sarah.

  A young woman walked towards them along the corridor. Clutching a bundle of papers, the young woman muttered a ‘Good Morning’ to Sarah and after she'd passed them by, turned to give Kal a surreptitious glance up and down.

  “I think she admires your style,” Sarah whispered.

  Kal arched an eyebrow. Today, she’d chosen a dark blue, figure-hugging, velvet dress. Velvet was one of her favourites because it was stretchy and allowed full body movement. She’d piled her hair on top of her head and secured it with a matching velvet band, bohemian-style. Dressing in ways some people would call ‘unusual’ and others ‘downright weird’, was one of Kal’s habits. She’d also learned that certain styles of dress worked extremely well to detract from her abilities. It was a useful technique for sneaking under people’s guard, and perfect for getting people like Kealy to reveal their innards like a split sack of beans.

  “Well,” Kal said, “my style didn’t impress the receptionist downstairs. She acted like I needed to be put back in my place.”

  “And since when did that put you off?” said Sarah with a small smile.

  Sarah was one of those people who rounded the sharp corners on things and made them easier. That was probably why she and Alesha hit it off and though Kal didn’t want to admit it, looking at Sarah gave her a funny feeling. Like looking at Sarah reminded her Alesha wasn’t there. Reminded her Alesha might not be as immune as she made out. Kal felt queasy and rested her hand over her stomach.

  It was a long corridor and frosted windows showed several of the offices already occupied.

  “Detective Inspector Spinks interviewed me yesterday. I was exhausted by the time he was through. He's definitely an experienced detective and I’m sure he'll come up with something,” Sarah said.

  Kal didn’t think Sarah sounded convinced. As they passed each door, Kal read the platinum name plates, expecting to spot Kealy's office. Perhaps it would be simplest to ask Sarah to introduce her. It would be easy to invent a pretext. When they reached Sarah’s office, Sarah motioned for Kal to take a seat.

  “I guess you’re here to find out about Alesha's project?”

  “Er, yes.”

  She'd barely sat down when Sarah launched into a rapid explanation - one sentence ran into the next.

  “When I heard Alesha had been shot, I was concerned. Since our student days together, she's followed an active career in the field, well, you know I think taking risks like she does is a younger person's game, and we both understand that's not how Alesha sees it, she thinks she can continue forever, anyway, I needed someone with an investigative mind and someone not open to outside influences and I knew she was available, so I asked her to join me.”

  Why was Sarah so worked up about a simple project? Where was this going? “Sure,” she said.

  “I suppose I was hoping to tempt her away from her job at the newspaper, you know, permanently.”

  Sarah poured coffee from a percolator jug and misjudged, sloshing hot liquid onto the desktop.

  “Would you like a cup, Kal?”

  “No thanks. Coffee makes me rabid.” She watched Sarah dab aggressively at the splashes.

  “I’m working on a documentary on medical research, more specifically research on children. There've been a couple of headline incidents - children in Argentina in clinical trials for a multinational where the families claimed they were coerced into taking part, Ethiopian teenage boys used as subjects for medical tests where there were rumours of several deaths and then after an investigation, the big name company came out clean. That kind of research is forbidden in Europe and the States, so companies set up laboratories elsewhere.”

  Sarah made to drink her coffee, then changed her mind. “The company I asked Alesha to investigate is ScottBioTec. Two years ago they were a lack-lustre, biotechnology enterprise and now they’re top of the league. Their robotic limb is way ahead of their competitors and what catapulted them to success? It was the strides they made on research carried out on street children in India.”

  “The land of my ancestors and one of Mum's favourite countries, how apt. So Mum’s job was to research the documentary?”

  “Yes, I wanted a three-hundred-and-sixty degree on the issue, meaning meet the children, interview families, interview medical personnel, see first-hand the conditions and how the research is handled and what it actually entails, and including meeting with those against ScottBioTec’s methods. There are pressure groups both sides of the Atlantic and there's been plenty of lobbying to close down ScottBioTec's Indian operation.”

  “Okay.”

  “Here’s where it gets interesting. A few weeks ago, the topic shot onto the hot list because the Government announced its intention to set up a Special Commission on Children's Rights and Research Ethics. There are big players in the league, not only ScottBioTec. Big players with big profits they want to protect. Of course, they want a positive outcome from the Commission.”

  “Meaning they don't want the Government to impose stricter standards?”

  “Spot on. The private sector wants to keep control and they say they’ve adequate standards in place. The issue is they don't want governments and international agreements that could jeopardise their freedom to do research and get results, and that’s results with a capital ‘R’.”

  “Nothing new there then, and I can see why the documentary would interest Mum.”

  Across the desk, Sarah paused, and in the way she restricted her breathing and scrutinised Kal’s face, Kal could easily read Sarah held something back. She knew better than to push. Applying pressure would only make Sarah clam up, better instead, to offer a little encouragement.

  “I’m sure Mum appreciated it. The physiotherapy after her injury went on far longer than expected and I think the whole episode bothered her more than she wanted to admit. And I can tell you, if the offer had come from anyone except you, her pride would’ve got in the way.”

  Sarah stirred her coffee, the spoon jangling against the side of the mug. Kal waited. Whatever wasn’t right here, Sarah was about to tell her.

  “I thought it was a smart move involving Alesha because I trust her. I asked her specifically because it’d already been suggested to me to turn in a positive angle on the documentary. This is totally confidential, Kal, but the suggestion came from the top, from Kealy and, of course, it wasn't anything official. The subtle pressure hasn’t stopped and I've been around long enough to understand I'm expected to emphasise the benefits of the research work and the positives for the children. It's unprecedented. That’s why I wanted someone absolutely independent working on the project with me.”

  “And I can see how Mum would be exactly the right person.”

  Sarah finally took a sip of coffee and quickly retracted her lips from the scalding liquid.

  “Did Kealy threaten you?” asked Kal.

  “Gracious no, he’d never be so foolish. Take it from me, he knows how to pile on pressure in hidden ways and I'm certain he's been influencing other members of my team. Listen Kal, it simply isn't his style and that’s what I can’t understand. Kealy got to the top protecting our independence and he’s built Capital Towers on that principle. We’re impartial and proud of it and Kealy’s always stridently defended that right. I can’t see any reason on earth why he’d be prepared to put everything he's worked for at risk.”

  “You think Mum’s disappeara
nce could be related to the documentary, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know if it’s relevant or not, I’m only saying it could be. You said yourself someone’s been sending those death threats for years, so why should Alesha go missing now?”

  There came a sharp rap at the door and before Sarah had time to respond, a man stepped into the room, the electric blue of his tie adding verve to his entry. Kal’s skin flashed hot.

  “Apologies for interrupting,” Kealy said, not appearing even slightly apologetic. “My name is Alistair Kealy and you must be Alesha's daughter.” He shook her hand. “I hear the police are trying to trace your mother and I’m so sorry. Has there been any news?”

  “Not yet, I'm afraid. I’m glad to meet you, Mr Kealy, I'd hoped to speak to you after seeing Sarah.”

  “Oh, why's that?” Kealy asked, moving further into the room.

  His body movements reminded her of a ferret or other small predator - quick, light-footed, on the alert.

  She kept it vague and added a touch of flattery. “Mum spoke of you. She admires your, er, stance on recent issues.” Not that Alesha had mentioned Kealy even once.

  “Ah-hah, well yes, quite,” Kealy said, nodding his head in time to his words, accepting the compliment with ease. “Your mother has an outstanding reputation. It's an honour to have her with us.”

  Kealy’s eyes darted from Kal’s face, to her hands, then to the desktop and across to Sarah. His physique held a tightness. Despite his panache, the top rat’s body language marked him to be ill at ease.

  Kealy adjusted his tie. “I understand you have a budding career, Kal. It seems you’ll be a name to watch.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Kal said and she continued to study him, looking for any tell-tale signs of deception. Despite his hyper-vigilance, Kealy appeared genuine.

  He turned to Sarah, “I don't recall, which part of the work was Alesha covering for us?”

  And there it was. The quick flick of his eyes downwards and to the left as he asked the question, almost imperceptible and so telling. It signalled to Kal that Kealy lied, that he knew the answer and asked the question in pretence of ignorance. His quizzical brow confirmed it. He creased his forehead to add credibility and for those who could read it, all it said was, ‘overacted’.

  Sarah remained deadpan. Most likely, Kal thought, Sarah was masking a recent dislike of her boss.

  “I asked Alesha to investigate ScottBioTec,” Sarah said.

  “Ah-hah, yes, and has Alesha given us any feedback yet?”

  “No, I handed the dossier over to her. She had free rein.”

  “Yes, yes, I see.” Kealy gave little nods in unison to his words. “Well, Ms Medi, if I can help in any way, please don't hesitate to ask.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kal gave Kealy a practised smile as he retreated from Sarah’s office.

  Once the door was closed and he was out of ear-shot, Sarah leant across the desk.

  “What do you make of that?”

  Close to Sarah’s temple, Kal couldn’t help fixing on the strands of white hair mingling with the auburn. Her mother had begun to have silver hairs mixing with the black a few years ago. Each time she visited home, Kal could see their encroachment, slow yet relentless. Alesha dismissed any restrictions demanded by ageing, as she did anything else concerning a decrease of her freedom.

  Kal shook her head to get herself back on track. “To be honest, I didn’t read much into it. It was nice of Kealy to come to see me.”

  “I suppose it was…”

  “As you said earlier, Detective Inspector Spinks is experienced and unusually competent. We can trust him to track down Mum. It’s a matter of time. No need to overly stress.”

  “Are you sure? I mean…”

  “You’re such a worrier, Sarah. There’s no need.”

  To move the focus on, Kal assessed it as an ideal moment to readjust her hair. She orchestrated a rearrangement, pulling out loose strands and then spending a few minutes with hairpins held between her teeth. She waited until Sarah sat back and began taking little sips of coffee, before pushing the final pin back into place.

  “You know, I passed by Wyndham Theatre on the way here. It reminded me of that nephew of yours,” Kal said. “Is he still blazing a name for himself on the Dublin stage?”

  Sarah put down her cup and narrowed her eyes. “Oh no you don’t, Kal. I know what you’re trying to do talking about my family in Ireland, and the answer is ‘no’. I’m not going anywhere until they find Alesha, it’s out of the question. And,” she pointed an accusing finger, “it means you’re suspicious of Kealy.”

  No flies on Sarah and no point in trying to persuade her right now. Kal wanted Sarah safe - she’d have to work on that later. She sat back.

  “See how she's twisting her hair at the same time as smiling at him, what do you think that means?”

  “Do you see how that man scratches his eyebrow as he talks, he doesn't even know he's doing it. It shows he's concealing something from his partner.”

  Her father liked to set her challenges. “Go and buy a chocolate at the counter and find out what type of woman the server is.”

  “Ask that man for directions, then come and tell me about his temperament.”

  David Khan would dissect the information Kal brought him, scrutinise it, analyse it and then send her back for more. She learned to track and interpret the smallest details in the people they observed. At one time, her father had shown a particular interest in their local newsagent and sent her weekly to make her assessment and delve deeper. The man kept an old, beige, greyhound dog, long-nosed and wiry, who had the habit of lying in a basket behind the counter. Kal took her time to pet the dog and spent weeks digging nearer and nearer to, well, an unshapeable ‘something’ about the man. Something not right. Something off. Something withheld. It was the echo of that wrongness which her father wanted her to understand and to shape. He’d wanted her to put that weird feeling in her gut into words, into a diagnosis - and so he kept sending her back and her suspicions had been slowly forming. But the police had beaten her to it and the dog turned out to be friendlier than its owner because the newsagent ended up behind bars for peddling drugs. The worst being he’d done it to fund his gambling addiction to illegal blood sports – cockfighting, badger baiting. When she’d read his conviction in the newspaper, she’d felt sick. How could a person who loved his pet, conceal such cruelty? How could he hide such a monstrous side? These were the questions her father wanted her to fathom. It made her wonder, too, when her father had known the truth about the newsagent because part of her suspected he’d known right from the start.

  Kal’s psychological analysis of Kealy had been clear. On a subliminal level, Kealy acted like a man pushed into a corner. He’d come to Sarah’s office knowing Kal was there and he’d come with an edge of attack and heightened self-defence and specifically to seek information about what Alesha had passed on. He wanted to know what they knew. The same as animals who are cornered, people who feel trapped could react in unpredictable ways. Kal would’ve preferred Sarah to be out of harm’s way. Still, whatever her mother found out, Kal was willing to bet Kealy was a cog not a main player. Kal added ScottBioTec to her list.

  Chapter Eight

  Kealy’s voice sounded weak and the Controller didn’t like weakness.

  “The girl doesn’t know anything,” Kealy said.

  The Controller gripped the handset. “She’s a loose end and you know how I hate loose ends.”

  Down the line, Kealy’s breaths made it sound as if he were hyperventilating. Yes, very likely he was thinking about exposure, thought the Controller. About personal ruin. The symbolic public hanging.

  “I’ll keep on it. Sarah Wiseman’s like an old twig,” Kealy babbled. “If I put on more pressure she’ll snap.”

  “That might be necessary.” The Controller injected ice into his voice. “We can’t take risks.”

  With the call ended, The Controller walke
d to the window. Children ran in the earth yard. Their bare legs and skinny arms flew this way and that as they played their games of catch and tag. How wonderful to have all this – an empire – a treasure chest to dip into on a whim. With these children the Controller ruled the world. Nothing and no one would stand in his way, and certainly not the descendants of scum.

  Chapter Nine

  Selena Vankova's internet page had a slick presentation and the site featured plenty of information about the Mayor of London’s activities, including a list of public appearances. Kal had already selected an event where she could fabricate a face-to-face with Vankova. Now an alert said the event had been postponed.

  At a coffee bar outside Capital Towers, the early morning surge had died down and a waitress took the opportunity to clear the debris. From her stool at the window, Kal watched the buses crawl by. A long, red line of them stretched in both directions along Oxford Street - she could see almost twenty double-deckers heading towards Marble Arch, interspersed with black taxis. Pedestrians surged on both pavements. Oxford Street was the busiest shopping street in Europe with an iconic buzz all of its own.

  Kal drank her strawberry smoothie sip by sip. Selena Vankova was a ‘no’ for the time being and she’d not yet found inspiration on how to approach Assad, who travelled everywhere with a security entourage. Perhaps her camera might be a way in, though Assad’s personnel would keep her at a distance. She'd have to come up with a better idea. That left ScottBioTec as her next target.

  The company had a high profile on the internet. ScottBioTec, worth millions, Richard Scott entrepreneur owner. ScottBioTec's artificial leg and arm units had functional finesse way ahead of the field. They'd pioneered the use of an array of micro-electrodes implanted in the brain which interacted with chip technology in the artificial limb. Richard Scott had his headquarters in the City of London, right amongst the best. Their imminent launch of a third generation, robotic limb was tipped to provoke a media frenzy. As photos of Richard Scott flashed on the screen, a tingle of electricity ran up Kal’s arms. He was the first man on Alesha’s list.