by David Archer
“Sounds like our bastard,” Denny said. “But do you have an opinion as to whether he might attempt something like this? I mean, is he the sort who might lash out against random people?”
Murphy sucked on his bottom lip for a second. “Martin Embry is—he is about as antisocial a man as I have ever known. He lost his driving license some years ago because he kept losing his temper while behind the wheel. A lot of his coworkers refused to continue working with him for more than a few weeks at a time, because he would become verbally abusive. If you’re asking me if I think he might be just that type of madman, I would have to say that the possibility does exist.”
“But,” Sam asked, “is developing a protein like the one we are talking about something he could do on his own? Without the advantages of your laboratory and equipment?”
“Oh, certainly,” Murphy said. “Martin was something of a recluse, socially, but a few of his coworkers were invited to his home at one time or another. They describe a laboratory that is not nearly as sophisticated as ours, but certainly capable of accomplishing a great deal. To be frank, if he had confined his personal research to his own laboratory, he would probably still be working here. It was the fact that he was using our equipment and time without authorization that got him terminated.”
Sam looked at Denny. “I think we need to pay Mr. Embry a visit,” he said. He turned back to Murphy. “Mr. Murphy, thank you for your time, and for the blunt answers. We’ll let you know if we need to speak with you again.”
“I shall be at your disposal,” Murphy said. He took some business cards out of a pocket and handed one to each of them. “Those have my cell number, so you can reach me at any time.”
The two of them rose and shook his hand, then went down on the elevator and out of the building. As they got into the car, Sam entered Embry’s address into his phone, and Denny once again began following the directions that came from it.
“Too easy,” Sam said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be delighted if we’ve already located the right guy, but things just never go this smoothly.”
“Funny,” Denny said. “I was thinking something along that line myself. I almost got the impression that Mr. Murphy wanted us to look more closely at Embry. Perhaps he is our man, or perhaps there’s something else Murphy knows that he thinks we should discover.”
“I hadn’t thought about that, but you could be right. I think we’ll know more after we talk to the man face-to-face.”
“I agree,” Denny said. “Thirty more minutes to his place, so then we just have to hope that he’s at home.”
NINE
Martin Embry lived in a row house on Mysia Street, less than a block from the River Thames. It was the sort of building that shared walls with its immediate neighbors, like a townhouse back in the U.S. Sam and Denny parked on the street in front of the building and walked up to the front door. Sam rang the doorbell.
The door was opened a moment later by a tall, thin man with eyes that seemed to bug out slightly. “Yes?”
“Mr. Embry?” Sam asked. The man nodded, and Sam went on, holding out his ID. “My name is Sam Prichard, and I’m working with MI6. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Questions? I’m sorry, gentlemen, I’m rather busy. Perhaps another time.” He started to shut the door, but Denny pushed it open again.
“Mr. Embry,” he said, “I don’t think you quite grasp the situation. When MI6 comes knocking upon your door, it indicates a matter involving national security. We can speak with you here, or we can take you back to Vauxhall Cross. The choice is yours.”
Embry stared at them for a moment, then huffed. “Fine, then, come on in.” He turned and led them into the parlor and pointed at the sofa. “Have a seat, then. Now, what is this all about?”
“Mr. Embry,” Sam said, “please sit down. I don’t think this will take very long, but I’d like to get through it as comfortably as we can.” He took his own seat on the sofa, and Embry glared at him as he sat in a chair that faced it.
“Fine, then,” Embry said. “Now, what is it you want? I’m a busy man.”
“Mr. Embry,” Sam began, watching Embry’s face closely, “what do you know about the poisonings that have been happening around London?”
Embry’s expression didn’t change, but remained that of a man who was irritated at an interruption. “Poisonings? It’s all over the telly, that’s what.”
“And are you aware that the poison is actually a protein, one that breaks down red blood cells?”
That made his eyes open a bit wider. “Nasty, that. Cut down your oxygen level, men would be gasping for breath.”
“I’m sure they do,” Denny said, “but not for very long. This particular protein is capable of re-creating itself very rapidly once it hits the blood, so the victim dies within a matter of minutes. We’ve just come from Forestall, where we learned that proteins seems to be your forte. Would you care to comment on that?”
Embry scowled. “Forestall! There’s a bunch of idiots for you. Properly engineered proteins have more potential than all of the unnatural chemicals they can pump into the body, but those blighters can’t see past their own stupidity. I tried to show them, I did, but they wouldn’t listen.”
Sam glanced at Denny. Murphy’s description of Embry as antisocial was definitely proving true, but the man also seemed suddenly nervous. He turned back to the scientist.
“Mr. Embry, creating this protein that is killing everyone requires someone with your level of skill. Did you have anything to do with it?”
“What? Do you think I would admit it to you if I did? That would be rather foolish, would it not?” He was blinking furiously, and Sam knew he was hiding something.
Denny shook his head. “All right, that’s enough,” he said. “I don’t know about you, Sam, but I think we need to have the MI6 lab boys come out and go through this place from top to bottom.”
Sam was watching Embry’s face. “I think you might be right,” he said. “Mr. Embry, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come back with us for further questioning.”
Embry’s eyes bounced from one of them to the other, and then focused again on Sam. “I told you, I’m a busy man. I don’t have time to be going anywhere right now. I have work to do, you have to come back later.”
Sam let out a sigh. “Denny?”
Denny got to his feet and reached out to grab hold of Embry by the shoulder. “Up you come,” he said. The man got to his feet rather than be dragged onto the floor, and stared at Denny. “Now,” Denny went on, “we’re going to take a little ride. You can lock up, if you like. We’ll need the key, however, because we’re going to have to let our lab personnel look through your place.”
Embry’s face went from angry to frightened. “No, no, we cannot do this. I cannot leave right now, it’s simply not possible.”
Sam got to his feet. “Bring him along,” he said. “We’ll…”
“You will stop,” said a new voice. Sam turned toward the doorway that led from the parlor into the hallway, and saw another man standing there, holding a pistol. “I cannot let you take him, I’m afraid. Mr. Embry is quite valuable to me.”
The man stepped further into the room and Sam looked him over carefully. He was tall, easily well over six feet, and quite muscular. He appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties, and despite a swarthy appearance that hinted of the Middle East, he spoke with a perfect British accent.
The two men standing beside him did not speak at all. The guns in their hands made it unnecessary.
Embry looked at him. “Tushar, don’t…”
“You’re making a mistake,” Sam said. His hand naturally went to his side, where he normally carried his Glock, but then he remembered that he was unarmed. “Mr. Embry is a suspect in a matter of national security. Interfering in the investigation…”
“I’m afraid your investigation is interfering with my own business,” Tushar said. “Incredibly good work, I must say, tracking E
mbry down so quickly. I really didn’t expect that. However, my work is not finished, so neither is his. Please step away from him and sit down once again. Both of you.”
Like Sam, Denny was unarmed. With three Browning 9 mm pistols pointed in their direction, the only thing they could do was comply. Both of them sat on the sofa once again, and Sam began trying to think of any way the two of them might survive the situation.
“Martin, find some rope,” Tushar said. “We need to secure both of them quickly. I’m sure it’s going to take some time to gather all your equipment, but I’m afraid it’s necessary to find a new location.”
“What, leave?” Embry asked. “I can’t leave my home, this is…”
“I’m afraid there’s no choice, Martin,” Tushar said. “If MI6 sent two men to speak with you, then they already suspect your involvement. Unless you truly wish to spend the rest of your life in Belmarsh prison, you’ll do as I say.”
Embry stared at him for a moment, his mouth working without sound, and then his shoulders suddenly slumped. He turned and left the room and was back a moment later with a length of rope in his hands.
One of the other men holstered his pistol and took the rope. While Tushar and the third man kept their guns aimed at Sam and Denny, he walked behind the sofa and leaned over to tie Sam’s hands behind his back, then did the same to Denny. When he was finished, he tied their hands together and added loops around their throats. Any attempt to pull away from each other would only tighten the noose.
“Very good,” Tushar said. “Now, help Martin gather whatever he needs and put it into my van. We need to leave quickly, before anyone comes looking for these two.”
Sam was looking at Tushar. “So, you’re the one behind all this?” he asked. “You appear to be from the Middle East. Is this some sort of jihadist operation?”
“You’re American, aren’t you?” Tushar asked. “What are you doing working with MI6?”
Sam shrugged. “Don’t ask me,” he said. “They just called and asked me to come over and lend a hand. Am I right? Is this something to do with terrorism?”
Tushar grinned at him. “Not that you could possibly fathom my true intentions, but the answer to that question is not so simple. If, on the other hand, you were to ask if it is about power—well, that would certainly be true.”
“Try me,” Denny said. “Perhaps I can understand, I’m a native. What possible motive could you have for murdering people who have never done a thing to you?”
“Oh, you’re wrong there,” Tushar said. “The people of England, and many other countries, have done more than enough to earn the fate that awaits them. I’m sorry, however, I don’t have time to educate you as to their crimes. You simply have to wait, like everyone else. Believe me, the answer will be clear to everyone in the fullness of time.”
Slowly, carefully, Tushar walked behind the sofa and checked the way their hands were tied. His man had done a very good job, he decided, so he put away the gun and walked back around to sit in the chair that faced them. The remaining man continued to keep them covered.
“Be quick, Martin,” he called out. “I’m sure we don’t have all day. MI6 could send more at any time.”
Embry and the other man appeared out of a back room a moment later, each of them carrying a large box, which they proceeded to take out the back door. Sam kicked himself mentally for not bothering to check behind the row house, but it was too late for such recriminations. He was more interested in what Tushar had planned, because it almost sounded like he was going to leave them alive.
“So, what are you going to do with us?” Denny asked at that moment. “You’ve got enough problems now, you don’t need to add murdering SIS operatives to your troubles.”
“Murder? If I wanted you to be dead, you already would be. After all, I have a poison more deadly than ricin; all I’d have to do is put the tiniest drop on your skin, but you know that. No, it serves my purpose better to leave you alive.” He grinned. “You are actually having trouble understanding that, aren’t you? After all, you’ve seen my face. To your logic, that should mean that I would fear you will be able to track me down again, but that actually does not worry me. I’m afraid I’m something of a chameleon, very hard to pin down. I’m sure you don’t understand that at the moment, but you will later.”
Embry and his helper returned from outside, made another trip with each of them carrying another box and then one more, and this time Embry was carrying what looked like a glass jug full of a dark, viscous liquid. The glass jug was secured into a wooden frame, and there seemed to be padding all around its corners. When they came back in that time, Embry went into a different room and returned ten minutes later with a couple of suitcases that he must have hastily packed.
“All right,” he said, angrily, “I’ve got everything. If we have to go, let’s do it. I need to get back to work, I need to finish and be done with you.”
Tushar looked at Denny and Sam, then smiled. “You see? He’s so eager, it’s just amazing.” He rose to his feet. “He did a decent job of tying your hands, but I’m sure that won’t keep you from calling for help for more than a few seconds after we depart. Our time here is over, I fear, so we shall take our leave. As long as neither of you shows his face out the rear door, I have no reason to kill you. Please do try to remember that, I’d hate to have to go back on my word.”
He turned then and followed Embry out the back door, the other two men right behind them. Denny and Sam instantly began trying to get to their feet, but it was a struggle. They made it, though both of them were choking by the time they did. Unfortunately, the truck that had been waiting behind the house was already gone by the time they were able to peek out a rear window.
“Kitchen,” Sam said, still struggling for breath. They made their way into the kitchen and Denny spotted a block of butcher’s knives. He managed to grab one and quickly cut the ropes that held them.
Sam yanked the noose off his neck and gasped for air. Denny was doing likewise, but Sam pulled out his phone. He hit the icon to call Noah’s number, and then put it to his ear.
“Noah Wolf,” Noah answered. “Sam? Is that you?”
“It’s me,” Sam gasped out. “The killer is a Middle Eastern man who is going by the name of Tushar, that’s all I’ve got. Martin Embry is making the protein for him, and I gather they’re making a lot of it. We were going to bring Embry in for questioning when Tushar showed up with a gun and two other men, and the four of them just left with all of Embry’s lab equipment and supplies. They’ve only been gone a few minutes, so if they can get someone to scan this area by air, they might spot a truck hurrying away.”
“All right, hold on,” Noah said. Sam could hear him relaying the information to those around him, and then he came back online. “What about you and your friend? Are you all right?”
“We’re fine, other than some rope burns. Tushar made one of his men tie us up, and I’m afraid he did a pretty good job. Ask Albert, see if anyone’s ever heard of this Tushar. He claims to be some sort of chameleon, and wasn’t worried about the fact that we had seen his face.”
“Will do,” Noah said. “Do you need someone to come get you?”
“No, but I think we need someone to go over this place. If he was making the poison right here, there could be traces of it or information that might help us figure out where they went.”
“Good point,” Noah said. He put a hand over the mouthpiece for a moment and they could hear him speaking to someone else, but then he came back. “Albert says he’ll get lab techs out there right away, and you should get out of the place until they arrive. Sam, if they were making it there, you need to be careful not to expose yourselves to any of it.”
“Trust me, we know. Neither of us has touched anything other than the sofa we were sitting on and a butcher knife. We’ll go out to the car and keep a watch on the place, but somebody needs to get here pretty soon.”
“Albert already has someone on the way,” Noah said. “
As soon as they arrive, let’s get together and talk about this Tushar. Neil has a program that works like a forensic artist, so maybe we can come up with a picture of this guy.”
“Good,” Sam said, “because I want to be there when we bring him in.”
He and Denny went out to the car and sat down, watching the front door of Embry’s house. A large truck pulled up a half-hour later, and three men wearing hazmat suits climbed out. Sam and Denny stepped out of the car.
“You’re Mr. Prichard?” The man who asked was wearing what almost looked like a spacesuit.
“Yes,” Sam said. He pointed at Embry’s front door. “The deadly protein was apparently being made right there in that house, but they loaded up all the equipment and took it with them, as far as I know. We didn’t have any way to search the place safely, so we left that for you to do.”
The man nodded. “Excellent choice,” he said. “This is what we are trained for. I’m supposed to tell you to return to Vauxhall Cross, because Mr. Lingenfelter wants to speak with you as soon as possible.”
Sam nodded. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” he said. “We’re on the way.”
