by C B Barrie
Ellis spluttered with indignation. ‘You bastard, you think I’m going to let you get away with that?’
Ellis leaped forward three paces and exited the back door at speed.
As he did so he suddenly felt an emptiness from his upper chest down – all sensation had gone and as his upper half started to slide away from the bottom of his body, he realised he had no more than a few seconds of life left to him. Just as his body divided in two he tried to shout his hatred for Caplin but his lungs were no longer functioning and able to blow air across his vocal cords. All that happened was that his lips moved, but the words he wanted to utter were silent.
As the last of the oxygenated blood still in his brain gave up all that it had, and darkness began to close over him, Ellis had a fragmentary thought – now he knew how Caplin had eliminated all of his adversaries, and it was very, very clever.
Caplin threw the keys of the MX5 over the cliff and into the sea after he had locked down the accelerator with a heavy brick and the car had hurtled over the cliff edge at speed.
It had disintegrated on impact with the lower cliff rocks and then disappeared under the waves.
He’d made no arrangements to get back to his house but knew that if he walked for half a mile along the cliff walkway, and then waited, he would eventually get a lift back to the Gurnard’s Head pub. The walk was to ensure he was not seen at the point on the cliff edge where he had disposed of the MX5. Then, once back at the pub he had only to take a comparatively short journey back to his house.
As luck would have it he was picked up from his walk along the B3066 by a FedEx delivery van. The very affable driver offered to take him all the way to St Ives. He gratefully declined, telling the driver that he was expected at the Gurnard’s Head and invited the driver to stop for a ‘thank you’ drink. This the driver refused, having noted that drinking on duty was more than his job was worth. Caplin expected the man to decline his invitation, which was why he had offered it.
He decided that a few single scotches would be a welcome respite from his morning’s efforts, not least because it had been an appalling and horrific exercise to dispose of Ellis’s body. He remembered the moment Ellis had walked through the invisible wire stretched across the doorframe. He had pulled the wire tight by hooking it over the protruding heads of two very thick steel screws that had been painted over but originally helped to hold the doorframe in place. It was a gamble, but he had little time to rig anything else. There was a distinct risk that the wire would severe the screw heads before slicing through Ellis, but his luck was in, the screw heads had only divided halfway and subsequently held fast.
He had tried to stand back as Ellis separated, knowing that he might get blood over him. As it turned out, the sudden surge of blood pressure as Ellis divided was phenomenal, and a great flood of blood had erupted before the body’s blood pressure dropped to zero. But the gush of Ellis’ bright red blood had sprayed and splashed much further than he expected, and he was drenched in it.
For a short while he was uncertain what to do next but then decided to stay as he was and clean everything up. That included moving Ellis’ carcass, and severed top, away from the house and spending thirty minutes with a spade and pickaxe breaking over some scrubland at the back of the house and digging a reasonably deep grave. After the remains of Ellis were under ground, and he had cleaned and overlaid the soil surface with vegetation, to avoid it being obvious that the soil was freshly dug, he started the removal of the blood pools and bloodstains near the back door. His car pressure washer and a bottle of bleach made a near perfect job of eradicating any signs of past bloodshed, and within thirty minutes he was in his bathroom having a shower.
His bloodstained clothes had already been disposed of, using the washing machines highest temperature cycle along with bleach and three highly aggressive dishwasher tablets. This, he knew, would disrupt bloodstains and leave no effective forensic identity.
All he had to do now was to cover Ellis’ permanent absence – and that he could do without any questions being asked.
22
The sign was a familiar one, ‘Charles Felton – Asst. Personnel Officer’ and thankfully Caplin was already on good terms with him.
He knocked gently, respectfully, until he heard the ‘come in’ from the other side of the door.
‘Charles, good morning, trust you are well.’
Felton stood and beckoned him to one of his semi circle of chairs fronting his desk.
‘Hello Michael, very well thanks, and you?’
He sat down and waited for Felton to do the same.
‘Not as well as I might Charles, I have some bad news. But first, did you ever get Nathaniel Ellis to sign those papers you were always chasing him about?’
Felton gave a slight shake of his head. ‘Oh. You mean the NDA agreements, his bank details, the automatic incremental pay scheme notice and the supplementary employment contract etc. Well, not yet, I mean to corner him over the next few days.’
Caplin gave Felton a dour look and handed him a sheet of paper. ‘That was left on my desk early this morning. It’s in no way ambiguous.’
Felton reached over and took the paper. He unfolded it and read, his expression changing from a neutral one, to a dismal shaking of his head accompanied by a deep sigh.
To Whom It May Concern,
I regret that with immediate effect I am forced to resign my position with Metlab and M.I.M.C. My personal and financial circumstances have conspired to make my position within Metlab untenable and therefore I have no option but to give notice. My short time with Metlab and my association with my co-worker Dr, Michael Caplin has been deeply satisfying and my duties in Metlab have in no way been a factor in my decision to resign.
As noted, I very much regret my departure from Metlab and M.I.M.C and I wish all concerned success and good luck.
Yours Sincerely
Nathaniel Ellis BSc (Hons) PhD.
‘Christ,’ Felton gasped, ‘this isn’t the best news we’ve ever had is it?’
Caplin shook his head in agreement.
‘No, certainly not, and at the risk of sounding selfish, it leaves me in a tricky position. The rest of the staff here will instantly and cynically blame me for his departure, even though it’s not true, and now I’m left high and dry in my research programme. If you want to help Charles, please say that Ellis has been transferred, pretend he’s been sent to another facility, anything but the fact he’s made a run for it.’
Felton allowed the suggestion to sink in; all the time thinking of the consequences should a lie leak out.
‘Sorry Michael, I can’t actually cover Ellis’s absence with a fabrication, the bureaucracy involved, cancelling his salary etc, will get out. But I can ensure his reason for leaving leaves you in a good light; and that of course is true. Don’t worry, Ellis saying goodbye won’t leave a stain on your reputation, I promise.’
It was the answer Caplin wanted – nothing was going to stick and Ellis would soon become a distant memory to all concerned. Now he had to think of other things - there was much to do. He had a patent to complete and the writing up of the final research report. This time he had no co-author – only Michael Caplin’s name would be admired and revered for the research, and that was how it should be.
He rose from his chair and leaned over to shake Felton’s hand.
‘Very grateful Charles – I owe you. One thing more, I don’t know what to do about Ellis’ office, he’s left most of his library behind. If it’s okay with you I’ll get it put into store; he can call for it when he finally settles or finds a refuge somewhere.’
Felton smiled, ‘No need for favours Michael, you worry too much. As regards Ellis, you can do as you say about his effects. Oh, just one more thing, Nick Gordon our research director will have to be told he’s lost an acolyte, but I’ll do that. Relax Michael, leave it to me.’
As he vacated Felton’s office Caplin felt a surge of delight, he most definitely would leave it to F
elton - after all, why make waves when there was no longer any need to.
He was on course for satisfying his long held ambitions and there was no one left likely to disrupt them. He would secret himself in his office, write up all that needed to be done on the patent and the papers, draft an optimistic quarterly research report for the centre and then – patiently wait.
All good things came to those who waited and that, Caplin knew, would be a wait well worthwhile.
23
Caplin only occasionally allowed his thoughts to trail back to the days when he had been forced to take drastic action to ensure his ambitions and aspirations were going to be met.
It had been so long since he had been forced to turn killer that the earlier time, when he was fearful of being thwarted, had almost reverted to a kind of past bad dream, made up of memories clouded with apprehension and cold determination. Now of course it had all faded into a combined and composite recollection – nothing in detail, just the figures that had been alive at the time, and were now, thankfully, gone.
All he had hoped for had virtually come to pass. The three research papers had all been submitted, reviewed (with congratulatory comments) and been published in each successive issue of the most prestigious scientific journal ‘Nature’. They had all received ever-increasing levels of comment and his desk overflowed with requests for off prints and queries. Offers for collaborative research programmes were also in evidence as too likely TV appearances on various advanced technology programmes.
All in all, he was beginning to think he was heading in the right direction; the acclimation he was getting was unprecedented and could only embellish his growing prestige. All he needed was for those who monitored the current scientific climate to realise that his papers were at the top of the citation lists, that the work on amalgams and the production of super hard components was the premier scientific breakthrough of the age. Indeed, he was wondering how long it would take for that to be recognised when Nick Gordon and Charles Felton knocked on the laboratory door and came in.
‘Good morning all, do what do I owe the pleasure?’
Felton and Gordon came forward with serious expressions.
‘Well?’
Gordon looked down at some papers he was carrying.
‘Michael, M.I.M.C in London have notified us that you are the author of three papers recently published in ‘Nature’ detailing work you carried out on Cobalt amalgams. We are aware of the same, given the flood of mail and requests for interviews you have been receiving lately. It appears you made no effort to notify us or M.I.M.C that you intended to publish, neither did you seek permission to do so.’
Caplin let the accusation ride, he’d been expecting this dispute for some time and he was at last about to confront it – he was ready, very ready, let battle commence.
‘What you say Nick is indisputable. So what?’
Felton and Gordon’s body language demonstrated shock. They were expecting some kind of confession, but not undiluted defiance.
Felton tried am appeasing tone. ‘Christ Michael, you know the rules, you are prohibited from publishing, this goes against your employment contract and is contrary to everything your work here stands for. Metlab and M.I.M.C is a private operation, you are paid to carry out confidential research. You have reneged against your undertaking to keep things secret. I can’t understand your belligerent attitude. ’
Caplin smiled, ‘Well chaps, sometimes things are so important that you have to take extreme measures, and publishing my results was what I thought needed to be done. So I say again, so what?’
Gordon looked at the sheet of paper in his hand once more. ‘To answer your question Michael, the ‘so what’ comes down to a disciplinary hearing, tomorrow at 10 a.m. in the boardroom. Two senior executives from London will be on the panel as too our director James Henderson. Two others in situ will be myself as research director, and Alec Grieves as head of personnel. I can’t say I have any expectations that you will fail to be dismissed, with your current attitude, and complete lack of regret, I’m sorry to say the panel is unlikely to be lenient.’
Caplin smiled, somewhat gleefully. ‘See you tomorrow then, now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.’
Gordon waved a hand. ‘No Michael, you are suspended until the panel meets. Go home and think about things, I strongly suggest you take a repentant if not penitent attitude, it’s your only hope.’
Caplin looked up at Felton, who gave him an air of helplessness.
Caplin held his look, and simply smiled.
The boardroom was warm and stuffy, the spring sunshine pouring in through half shaded widows.
He was given a chair, facing the six panel members, all of whom sat behind two tables that had been pushed together to provide the surface for their papers and writing instruments. One had a miniature voice recorder facing him, it was clear he had every intention of making an accurate transcript of the proceedings.
The two executives from London were typical corporate types; their pin stripped suits, white shirts and embroidered silk ties stood out among the Metlab people who seemed rather drab in comparison.
There was an occasional exchange between two adjacent bodies but nothing was said to him as he sat patiently waiting for the official interrogation to start. Just as he checked his watch, noting it reading exactly 10.00 a.m., one of the London people, who had taken the panel’s position of president, cleared his throat and started an address.
‘Dr. Caplin, this disciplinary hearing stems from the fact that you have indisputably carried out activities in direct contravention to your employment contract with M.I.M.C. You have deliberately put in to the public domain details of your research by virtue of three research reports published in the scientific journal ‘Nature’. Not only does this violate your absolute undertaking to M.I.M.C to keep your work confidential, but you have now caused M.I.M.C to forfeit any potential commercial and industrial value you work might have attracted. The whole purpose of your employment contract with Metlab and M.I.M.C was to ensure that the investment made by M.I.M.C in its research programmes was not freely relinquished to any other competing interest. This, it appears, cannot now be prevented. I, and my colleagues here on this panel, find your activities unquestionably out of character with your past record, and yet so serious as to be incapable of being overlooked or disregarded. Since we are obliged to allow you an opportunity to express a justification to these charges, you are now at liberty to do so.’
He gave a few seconds of apparent assimilation of the opening statement, as though he was at a loss to reply. Then, he leaned forward, catching the eye of every member of the panel.
‘Gentlemen, you presume and presuppose, too much. The papers I published have had an enormous effect on the prestige and standing of M.I.M.C. The huge reaction to my work has lifted Metlab and M.I.M.C from being an anonymous, hardly perceptible, industry research centre, to one now respected and renowned throughout the world. It is a matter of past experience that no matter the quality of research carried out here at Metlab, virtually none of it ever becomes exploited or goes beyond a scrawled note; hidden away in some dusty file never to be seen again.
‘So, if you dare to speak of my decision to publish, causing M.I.M.C to forfeit any potential commercial and industrial value my work might have attracted, it would never have been launched successfully anyway – Metlab has hardly ever managed successfully to do so.’
He paused, watching as the panel started to become uncomfortable in their seats. It was plain his words were hitting home very hard. He drove the attack even harder.
‘You may be under the impression that a research scientist is entirely naïve when it comes to commercial matters – well, this one isn’t.’
He felt for his inside jacket pocket and withdrew a bundle of A4 paper sheets. He lifted off the first sheet, waved it at the panel and then dropped the remaining sheets on the table in front of him. They were quickly distributed among the six men to his front.
>
‘These gentlemen are photocopies of the first page of a patent, a patent that covers in detail all my research work and the inventive steps. This patent was examined and granted five weeks ago and, as you will see, names me as inventor but is assigned to M.I.M.C. The patent was filed many months before the papers in Nature were submitted or appeared. In short, regardless of the publications that appeared in Nature, the intellectual property now belongs legally, and in its entirety, to M.I.M.C, so nothing has been, as you say, forfeit. You are going to make millions out of my technology, and that is assured. Of course, you are at liberty to take me to task over the publications, but all things considered I have done far more for M.I.M.C than M.I.M.C has ever done for itself.
‘Oh, and one last observation, should you take a strict and uncompromising point of view over my so called transgression, and deprive me of my employment here, I will sue the hell out of M.I.M.C and I will win. Let me stress the point, M.I.M.C have in no way suffered loss from what I did and I am sure my lawyers would be very quick to drive that fact home. On the contrary, they will say, M.I.M.C, have undoubtedly benefited from Dr. Caplin’s inadvertent misunderstanding of his employment contract. So, where is the loss, what harm has been done?’
He sat back and gave the panel president a listless smile – he’d nothing more to say, and as it turned out, no one else on the panel had anything to say either; they all sat in disbelief, wondering how it came to be that they had been on the receiving end of a lesson in superior knowledge and tactics.
They dismissed him very politely, letting him know that he would be notified of the panel’s decision later that day. When he returned to his office he was faced with another pile of postcards all requesting offprint copies of his ‘Nature’ papers. He had no intention of returning any unless the recipient was in some backwater where ‘Nature’ wasn’t easily available or library facilities were nowhere to be found.
