“If you’re talking of that…,” Fred started to reply, then stopped briefly.
“Where did you think that one up?” he asked Micky. Then continued without waiting for an answer.
“Anyway, if I understand what you mean, then we wouldn’t have been able to check anything like that at the murder scene. But, it would be different if we were in our Lab.”
“I know what Micky’s thinking of, Fred,” Charlie added, excitedly.
“Blood gets sort of ‘carbonized’ when a sufficiently high electrical charge is used to vaporise it.
Then it becomes like a…. black dust, I think they call it.”
“Charlie,” Fred replied with a grin. “You’re starting to show me up.”
“Never, Fred,” she said smiling at him gently, then turned to Micky, who had gone back to studying the tube again.
“What is it, Micky? What can you see?”
“Fred, can I assume this tube’s been thoroughly checked?”
“Absolutely. There weren’t any fingerprints, only the DNA of the victim. Nothing else.”
Micky looked thoughtful but said nothing.
“But why are you so sure it has to be a new type of weapon, Micky? You do think that don’t you?” Fred said pushing for an answer.
“Come on Micky, It’s written all over your face,” added Charlie.
“It’s just, well it’s just a feeling Fred. I should know the answer. I’m sure that I do have the answer, but it’s lurking somewhere in the back of my mind.”
“Do you have a memory problem, young man?”
“Only as far as my past is concerned, Fred.”
“Your past?”
“Yes, Fred. He’s got a type of amnesia. It’s probably selective,” Charlie interrupted trying to deflect Fred’s question.
“Selective. I like it. I wish I could be like that at home,” Fred replied, grinning.
“Well, that’s all I have for you at the moment, anyway,” Fred added.
“If we get another stiff, I’ll let you know straight away.”
“Please do Fred.”
“Are we done here for now, Micky?”
“Yes, I think we are.”
“If we have any more developments, Micky, I’ll send Charlie a message.”
“Thanks.”
“We’re off then,” Charlie said.
Then Micky interrupted. “Fred. Can I have a copy of that photo?” he asked pointing to one, in particular.
“Of course,” Fred said, handing it to Micky. “I can easily get another copy.”
“Thanks. Ok, lead on Charlie.”
They followed Fred out to the security desk. Shook hands and Albert, the duty sergeant saw them out. Saying “See you both later,” as they left.
Outside, the sun was making an effort to give warmth to an otherwise chilly day.
“Where are we going?” Micky asked.
“My apartment.”
“And I don’t even know you properly yet. Are you propositioning me, Charlie?”
“You wish. No, we’re going to work. I’ve got everything we need to start searching,” she replied. Then waved to the driver of her black Limo, which was parked further down the road.
“Something tells me you’re higher up the ladder than you let on Charlie. Am I right?”
“Think what you like,” she said refusing to be drawn.
Her black Limo pulled up beside them and the chauffeur got out to open the rear door for them. Once back inside, with everyone strapped in, he asked, “Where to Charlie?”
“My apartment James.”
James started the car and began to drive away, when suddenly a motorbike turned up, and swerved in front of the Limo, then abruptly stopped.
“Damned fool,” James muttered as he quickly reversed about a metre.
He selected drive…. Then suddenly slumped forward as a purple coloured beam flashed through the car.
“Down Charlie!” Micky yelled, as they both swiftly unbuckled and dropped to the floor.
The Limo was still moving, slowly inching forward.
Then it hit the motorbike and pushed it into a car that was in front of it.
Then the Limo finally came to a stop. With all of the action, playing like a slow-motion movie.
Micky thought that he could ‘sense’ the vibes of an agitated mind, with the vibes rapidly diminishing as the serial killer escaped.
He cursed himself. Knowing that he hadn’t carried out a mental sweep as they came out of the police station.
Chapter 6.
Hunter or Hunted.
Micky cautiously sat up and looked out of the car window. There was no one in view. No surprise, he thought to himself, pretty sure that the killer was gone in any case. Then Charlie slowly sat up as well, looking questioningly at him.
“Yes,” he reassured her. “He’s gone I can’t sense him anymore.”
He leaned over the front seat to check the driver. James was obviously dead. A 4cm diameter hole through his head was proof of that.
He could also see a view of part of the door handle, through the hole that had been made in James’ skull, this reinforcing the dangers he and Charlie were facing.
Micky took a deep breath then looked more carefully at the hole. He could see that the flesh was indeed cauterized, with no blood flowing from it. He inspected it as thoroughly as he could, then managed to take two close-up photos of the hole using his phone camera.
“That would have been us if James hadn’t had to reverse the Limo,” she shakily said as they both got out of the car.
“Are we the hunted now, Micky?” She asked, looking at him with fear showing in her eyes.
“I’m pretty sure that I am. But now you’re working with me, you probably will be as well,” he sadly replied.
Micky tried to work out the direction that the beam had come from, using the beams entrance and exit holes in the limo’s windows as a guide. He knew it might be a waste of time, but figured any info was better than none.
Then Fred and two other uniformed police came out of the station in a rush, followed closely by Albert, the desk sergeant.
Fred’s face showed the horror he’d felt as he saw the driver.
“Are you both all right?” He asked. Then, not waiting for their answer, turned to look at Albert.
“The Press will be here soon,” he warned. “Get something to cover his face. We don’t want his picture splashed across the front page with him looking like that,” then turned to look back at both of them.
“Charlie, you and Micky had better leave now if you don’t want to blow your cover.”
“Thanks, but don’t you need a statement from us before we go?”
“No,” Fred said. “As far as anyone else is concerned, you were never here.”
He stepped out into the road and hailed a passing taxi, which was forced to swerve to miss him as it screeched to a halt.
“Geeze man, have you got a death wish?” The driver shouted.
“No, just a fare for you. Come on Micky, Charlie,” Fred called.
Micky got his case from the back of the Limo then joined Charlie in the waiting taxi.
“Talk to you later Fred. Good luck.”
“Thanks again, Fred,” Charlie said closing the cab door.
“Where to Sir?”
“Good question. Charlie?”
“Cumberland Court, 21 Cross Road, Croydon.”
“I know it, miss, it’s a long journey.”
“Yes. I do know where I live,” she abruptly answered.
“Sorry miss, I get lots of tourists,” he explained, looking a bit put-out.
Almost two hours later, after surviving a trip that included getting lost a couple of times, they arrived at Charlie’s apartment block.
Charlie paid the taxi driver before getting out.
“Sorry Miss, without the road works, it would have been quicker,” he said apologetically.
At this, Charlie relented and decided to give him a sm
all tip, after all. Then rushed off calling, “Follow me, Micky.”
Both of them were already entering the building before the Taxi had left.
“Top floor I’m afraid,” she told him, as she pressed the button for the lift.
“The penthouse?”
“Sort of,” she said with a smile. Thinking at the same time that he seemed an okay kind of guy she felt herself starting to relax, just a bit.
There was a ping, as the lift arrived and they stepped in. Relieved, Micky quickly dumped his case on the floor, then flexed his sore arm. His case was heavy, holding much more than merely clothing.
Moments later, they exited the lift on the eighth floor, walked the few paces to her door and he waited while Charlie keyed in her personal code to open it.
Once inside, she took him down a short corridor directly off what seemed to be an open-plan living area. There was a door on each side of the hall. Charlie opened the left-hand door beckoning him in.
“You can use this bedroom, Micky, it’s quite comfy and has an en-suite.”
“This is great,” he said looking around. “It’s really sweet of you to put me up, Charlie.”
“That’s Ok. The room’s pretty well fitted out. The phone is secure so feel free to start using it. There’s also a Wi-Fi connection, but be careful using that, I can’t guarantee that it’s secure.”
“I’ve got a scrambler, so no problem. Thanks.”
“My room is opposite, so if you need anything just knock.”
“Anything?” He asked, grinning.
She grinned back. “Well, there are limits,” she replied. Then asked, “Would you like tea or coffee?”
“Yea, tea will be okay. I’m starving, do you have anything to eat?”
“I can order in a Pizza if that’s Ok with you? It’ll be better when I’m organized.”
“Fine with me. I’m in your hands,” he replied, grinning again.
She ignored his comment and asked. “Hawaiian?”
“Sounds good.”
“Hawaiian it is then. I’ll phone the order through,” and left him to unpack.
Ten minutes later, the Pizza man arrived.
Micky, hearing the doorbell, quickly ‘scanned’ the man without Charlie knowing and noted that the only apprehension he appeared to feel was about his chances of getting paid.
H’m, Micky thought. There aren’t really that many jobs without worries.
“Thank you, Miss, try not to burn yourself,” the guy said to Charlie as he handed it to her. Charlie smiled as she paid him and closed the door. Then after making the tea, called, “Foods up Micky.”
“Okay. Beautiful apartment,” he said as he came and sat down at the oak table.
“Yes, I love it. I’ll show you the roof garden later. The views are superb especially when it’s dark, with everything lit up.”
“Great, I’d like that.”
They both ate and chatted while surreptitiously eyeing each other up.
“Why do you live so far away from your job?”
“I have enough hassle during the day, it’s quieter here and the rent is much lower in this area.”
Micky hadn’t had time to take in all the details of her apartment till now. He could see that the living, dining and kitchen areas were open-plan.
There was a sofa on one side of the living area, and a large TV opposite. With the corridor off to the other side leading to the two bedrooms and another door to what was presumably a bathroom. He could see that the fixtures and fittings were high-end, the furniture was well chosen, all-in-all he decided that it was actually a very comfortable apartment.
Charlie noticed that he was surveying her apartment.
“That door further down the corridor leads to a separate bathroom, and my utility room.”
“Yes,” he said nodding approvingly. “I like your apartment, it’s small but neat.”
She looked a bit ‘down’ at that. “Well, I like it anyway,” she defensively replied.
“I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way.”
“This whole building was upgraded three years ago, just before I took up the apartment lease,” she added.
“No, don’t get me wrong,” he replied. “It’s a lovely apartment,” he reassured her and smiled. “But now Charlie, I need to spend an hour or so going over a few important things. Do you mind?”
“No,” she replied while feeling a bit miffed that he wasn’t going to include her.”
Sometime later, Micky returned.
“What now?” She asked as she turned off the TV.
“May I?” He asked, pointing to the sofa.
“Of course,” she said, moving along to make room for him.
As he sat down, he mentally scanned the surrounding area. But found nothing.
“Charlie, how well did you know your chauffeur?”
“Not very. James was assigned to me just for your stay.”
“And Fred?”
“I’ve known him since I joined the force four years ago. Why?”
“Charlie. Can I trust you?”
“What?” She asked, hurt that he had even asked the question.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Do you trust yourself?”
“What are you talking about? You’re starting to panic me. Come to that, I don’t know anything about you either.”
He scanned her again. Her emotional state was high, but not aggressive.
“Don’t you think that you’ve taken a significant risk in taking me in?”
She moved further away from him along the sofa.
“No, Cedrick said you were the ‘real’ thing.”
“I see. Ok, so you did your homework after all, and what did Cedrick tell you? What code did he tell you to use?”
Charlie was a little annoyed at him, thinking again what a cheeky sod he was, then recovering her poise replied.
“Well, that was a few days ago, let’s see if I remember.”
She thought, for a while, then said. “Ah, yes. Delta 35, Hector 47, Um…, 67 83 Cazer 2…. OK? Oh, and he said that you were to be trusted, even with my life.”
“See, so it’s okay. You can believe in me.”
Looking serious, she replied, “Well, not really. If James hadn’t been forced to reverse the car, we’d both be dead and gone.”
“OK, I have to agree with you on that one. I’m sorry I failed him” Micky replied. Then added, “Don’t let it get to you Charlie, anyway, I’ll be looking after us. Oh, and when I appear to be silent for no good reason don’t speak to me or disturb me.”
“Why?”
“Because when I‘m silent, it’ll be because I’m doing a mental scan for our safety.”
“Ok then, I’ll try harder to believe that you can look after us,” she said, still feeling a little nervous.
Micky smiled with relief then went to his bedroom, returning almost immediately with a small red box in his hand. He put his finger to his lip, warning her not to speak and placed the box on the dining table.
“Charlie, this is an extra precaution that will prevent any audio listening devices in the area from working,” he whispered.
Then lifted a flap on the side of the box, exposing a green pad, which illuminated when he touched it.
She looked at him, then at the box, seemingly unconvinced.
“It’s okay, we can talk now,” he reassured her. “Nano-surveillance technology has come a long way.”
“Ok, I’m listening.”
“Good. What I tell you must never be repeated to anyone, and I mean anyone, Charlie.”
“You have my word. But before you start, do you want a drink? I think I could do with one.”
“I’ll keep you company then. What have you got?”
She looked in a cabinet then replied. “Scotch, Gin, and Brandy.”
“Brandy for me, straight, but a small one. I don’t want to blur my senses.”
“Absolutely, and I think I’m going to need it straigh
t as well,” she said pouring their drinks. Then they both took a small swig.
“Right, Charlie. One reason, why I'm good at solving crimes, is that I can read a person’s emotions. Not their thoughts. A person’s emotional ‘make-up’ changes, according to the situation they find themselves in.
Typically, you have different emotions for fear, anger and rage, for example. Then different again when you are telling lies or if you are apprehensive about doing something dangerous, or difficult, or unknown even,” he said watching her as she listened intently to him.
“The emotional make-up of all these states of mind, creates individual ‘signatures’, which I can generally sense. Say, like a wine taster can detect different aromas or flavours.”
“If that’s the case, why didn’t you pick-up on James’s murderer?”
“I was distracted. I would usually have scanned the local area when we came out.”
“So, let’s get this straight. You can’t actually read minds at all?”
“No of course not. And, although I sensed the killer’s emotions moving away. I couldn’t pinpoint the location accurately.”
“Then what use are you, Micky?” She asked, thinking she’d get one over him.
“I sometimes wonder, Charlie,” he ironically replied.
“Seriously, though, apart from not really knowing what the weapon is. I’m more concerned about the fact that I was scanned by someone last night.”
Charlie gasped on hearing that.
“So, someone else has my capabilities as well,” he added.
“H’m, Not exactly inspiring confidence are we? Charlie replied.
Then thinking about his special ability, added. “So, that’s why you need me to shut up when you go silent.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that, but yes. Anyway, why aren’t you worried about me sensing your emotions?”
“You said you can’t read my mind. So why should I worry?”
“No reason at all.”
“Yeah,” she replied, sounding unconvinced. Then pushing off her shoes brought her knees up and underneath her.
Death of Time (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 4) 2nd Edition.: A thrilling, psychological, Mystery and Suspense, sci-fi detective thriller. (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy) Page 4
