by steve higgs
‘Not so far.’ Answered Frank’s assistant without even looking up. I had met Frank’s young, Chinese shop assistant a week after I met him. She had been kidnapped by a serial killer that thought he was a vampire. Tempest described her as a nimble little minx and I got the impression she had a thing for him that he was resisting. Maybe he wasn’t. I couldn’t tell, but the cool air coming off her now made me wonder if she was used to using her looks to make guys dance and knew she would have no such luck with us.
She was leaning lazily on the sales counter, leafing through a graphic novel. Frank was paying her to do nothing much, but that was his business and maybe she was only here to draw in the geeky boys that bought the comics.
Frank put the books on the counter. ‘What can I do for you ladies?’
I opened my mouth to speak but Patience got there first. ‘Answer all her questions so I can go for donuts.’
Frank flapped his lips a few times trying to decide what to say. He settled for, ‘Okay.’
He turned his gaze to meet mine. ‘What do you know about aliens fiddling with cow’s milk?’ I asked. I had no idea what I was supposed to ask him or what I might learn so I went with a broad question.
‘You are referring to the farms in Cliffe Woods?’
I cocked my head to one side. ‘How do you know about them?’
‘Supernatural Times.’ Poison replied, again without looking up.
When I didn’t respond, Frank leaned over the counter and produced an iPad. A few swipes later I was looking at today’s edition of the Supernatural Times.
‘I must say I enjoyed your interaction with Jack Hammer.' Poison said. I assumed she was referring to me kicking him in the nuts. It had been live-streamed to however many people were watching at the time but was now being shared via social media. Poison was finally making eye contact so I saw why she hadn't done thus far: She had a black eye.
Patience went into cop mode. She hated women getting hit. ‘Is there a story to go with that eye?’ Her tone was soft, encouraging.
Poison flicked her hair, ‘I was fighting the forces of evil.’ Her cryptic answer providing no explanation at all.
As Patience moved to talk with her, I turned my attention back to Frank. ‘Frank, what is this?' I was reading some of the headlines.
‘The Supernatural Times has been going for years. They went digital about a decade ago.’
‘Yes, but what is it?’
‘They focus on the truth behind the regular stories you read about elsewhere or see on the TV. When there is a ten car pile up and they say it was fog that caused it, do you really think it was fog?’
‘Yes.’
‘Isn’t it more likely that the first driver lost concentration because a spaceship buzzed his car or he saw someone teleport on the road in front of him?’
‘More likely? No.’ I was checking Frank’s face to see if he was pulling my leg but he was quite serious.
‘What about when people go missing? People go missing all the time. Mostly it is alien abduction, but no one believes it because the government agencies employed to monitor alien activity cover it up. You remember Deborah Houser, the Conservative politician that went missing last year?’
‘Yes. I suppose she was kidnapped by aliens.’
‘Goodness, no. She is an alien. I found out through BARF. That’s the…’
‘British Alien Response Force.’ I completed his sentence.
‘Yes!’ Said Frank, clearly impressed by my knowledge. ‘BARF monitor for aliens infiltrating government positions and get rid of them.’
‘So, BARF is a real thing?’ I thought back to my conversation with Fred a couple of days ago. I might have seen their vehicles with my own eyes less than an hour ago, but I was still struggling with the concept.
‘Couldn’t be more real. So, anyway, I read about the cow’s milk a couple of weeks ago. Jack Hammer wrote the report himself. He writes a column for them most weeks.’
‘Wait. Jack Hammer wrote the report? When. When exactly?’ This was important.
Frank looked confused for a second, then held his hand out so I could give him the iPad back. ‘Poison when did Jack Hammer first report the alien milk?' He asked over his shoulder while he swiped at the screen. ‘Never mind, I found it.'
The date on the article was October 25th. More than two weeks ago. He lied to me about when and how he found out. He was getting more and more embroiled in whatever was going on. What exactly was he guilty of?
‘Thanks, Frank.’ I read the article, then absent-mindedly handed the iPad back to him, I was lost in thought.
‘You’re quite welcome.’
A new question occurred to me, ‘Frank, what do you think is happening at the farm?’
He rubbed his hands together. ‘I thought you'd never ask. Initially, when I read the first article, I assumed it was another attempt to seed the human race with new alien genetic code. The point being to cause undetectable birth abnormalities in infants that will allow the aliens to control the next generation. They have tried this before with several different food substances but always something that is eaten by a vast majority of the planet like eggs or corn. There was a mass attack on eggs in the eighties. BARF was able to deflect it without causing mass panic by having a politician publicly state that eggs had salmonella in them. It was a close call though. This one seems to have been a misfire as the tampering is so easy to see. When the lights were reported though, my opinion changed to that of several leading theorists who believe we are on the cusp of a new era of human-alien cooperation. They are monitoring us as we monitor them. BARF believe an invasion is imminent, but it is more likely that their intentions are benign, peaceful.'
‘Given our mineral wealth, it is fair to assume they would want to exchange technology for resources. They could fight us for it, but why do that if it can be obtained without conflict and loss of life on both sides? However, the video footage that Jack Hammer obtained of the alien spacecraft suggests otherwise.'
‘How so?’ I asked the question even though I was convinced the man was babbling utter rubbish.
‘It was an attack craft. Frank said, knowingly. ‘No reconnaissance vessel would carry that much weaponry. Added to that, the death at Larson Farm was clearly the work of extra-terrestrial technology. We don’t have the ability to make a freeze ray. All our weapons maim and destroy. The being that used it probably comes from an alien society that has greater respect for the dead and developed weapons that would kill, but leave the body whole for burial.'
I nodded my head because I had no idea how to respond to anything Frank said. To me, he seemed completely rational and at the same time utterly mental.
Donuts. Friday, November 11th 1647hrs
Patience finished up chatting with Poison. She would not shift from her story that she had been out fighting dark creatures or something equally bizarre. I was ready to go and watching the clock because we still needed to get donuts and get across to Maidstone station to catch the crime lab guys before they left.
When Patience realised I was waiting for her, she gave up trying to get the truth from Poison, wished her luck and roughly shoved me out the door.
I waved goodbye to Frank as the door swung shut behind us. Then we were back out in the cool November air a few seconds later.
There was a storm brewing off in the distance. The dark sky was punctuated by flashes of lightning in the distance. The rumbles of thunder were too distant for us to hear as we hurried along the High Street. There was rain in the air, the fine misty stuff that sticks to your clothes and soaks you even though it looks like nothing.
Mr. Morello's Royal Cake Shoppe was at the Chatham end of Rochester High Street where it was sandwiched between a butcher's shop and a pub. It was closing in little more than ten minutes, so we needed to hurry.
Patience, who was never one to move fast when she didn't have to, was all but running to get to our destination for fear they might decide to close early for once. As the storefront
came into view, we could see the shop assistants beginning to clear the shelves in the front window.
‘Aaaaargh!’ Patience abandoned me because I wasn’t moving fast enough and ran at the door with both hands out. A startled-looking assistant, who was about to lock the door, backed away in fear as the crazy woman barrelled into the shop.
By the time I strolled in, three seconds later, she was already instructing them to get a box ready for donuts.
‘You know these are not for us, right?’ I reminded her.
She had been bent over, scrutinising the donut selection but stood up to stare at me, surprise on her face. ‘Well, sure. They are for the crime lab guys.’ She had a faraway look like she was doing math in her head. ‘They won’t want them all though, will they?’
‘I am taking them donuts. A full box of donuts because they are doing me massive favours for no cost. So, no, we are not going to eat their donuts. We will be delivering a full dozen.’
She scowled at me and turned back to the girl behind the counter. ‘We’ll take the dozen, thank you. And I will have three for myself.’ She glanced over her shoulder to scowl at me again. Just in case I didn’t get the message, she poked out her tongue.
With a dozen mixed wonderful balls of calorie-heavy goodness in my hands and a slow-moving black woman dragging along behind me, I made my way back to my car.
Patience had eaten all three donuts by the time we got there.
Key Evidence. Friday, November 11th 1717hrs
Patience used her card to bleep us into the station. It was the first time I had been back since my run in with CI Quinn more than a week ago. It seemed much longer than that as if time moved faster now that I was out of the Service. I prayed I wouldn’t run into him today.
Even though I was being escorted by Patience and had every right to be there, I felt like I was trespassing. My steps were fast as I hurried to the crime lab where I could shut the door. It was only a short journey from the entrance to the lab and we only saw a couple of people on the way. They didn’t comment on my presence, though my paranoia told me they were running directly to Quinn’s office to tell him I was back.
Behind me, I heard a rustling noise. I spun my head to make sure that Patience wasn't eating the donuts. She had held them in the car because I was driving and insisted she could be trusted to carry them from the car to the lab.
Patience looked at me with an innocent expression. The lid of the box was closed. ‘Did you just take a bite of donut and close the lid again?’ I asked as I eyed her suspiciously.
‘Of course not. These are for the crime lab chaps.’ She lied.
‘So, if I open the box, I won’t find a biscotti cream filled donut with a bite mark in it?’
‘Nope.’ She grinned.
I pushed open the door to the crime lab and stepped inside. Both the chaps were busy doing something scientific. Simon had his face to a microscope while Steven was fiddling with a test tube.
‘Hi, guys. I have a dozen scrumptious donuts.’
Patience mumbled something behind me that sounded a lot like eleven.
They both stopped what they were doing to scamper over to the donut box Patience was holding. They snagged one each and Patience put the box down on a table, steadfastly making a point of not taking one for herself. I would point out later that she had a big blob of donut cream on her chin from the one she had scoffed on her way through the station.
‘You always bring us the weirdest stuff, Amanda.’ Simon said around a mouthful of donut. ‘Not the donuts. I don’t mean them. I mean the evidence you found.’
‘Yeah, it is a strange collection.’ Added Steven.
I didn’t argue. ‘So, what is it? What did I actually find?’
Simon reached under a bench to retrieve a box. In it were a test tube that looked to have muddy water inside, the odd metal object which now had a piece missing from it and a ream of paper that looked to have graphs and data on.
‘Where’s the milk?’ I asked.
‘In the fridge.’ Simon replied, his voice making it sound like I had asked a daft question. ‘Which bit first?’
‘The soil?’
‘There is nothing special or interesting about the soil itself. PH level within tolerance for the area, traces of animal and vegetable matter – exactly what one might expect to find. The odd element was indeed paraffin that had been ignited. You described burnt circular marks on the grass? Well, they were made using something that burned paraffin as a fuel. That’s about as much as I can tell from the sample you gave us.’
‘Although.’ Steven interrupted.
Simon stared at him for a moment. ‘Oh yes. There was a surprising amount of methane in the soil.’
‘Methane? Okay, so what does that mean?’
‘Typically, that concentration of methane combined with some of the other minerals found such as hydrogen-sulphide and nitrogen would only be found at a site where there was natural gas.'
Okay. I wasn’t sure what that told me. However, I would research both natural gas and paraffin later and was expecting to find neither was a likely fuel for space travel.
Steven reached into the box to retrieve the metal object. ‘This is a magnesium chrome alloy. Nothing particularly unusual about it, billions of components are made from it every year. I haven't been able to trace what it came from, but the lightness and rigidity of it makes its use in the aircraft industry common.'
‘Aircraft industry.’ I repeated. I was making mental notes.
‘Or it might find a use in anything that was manufactured to be lightweight. Something that needed to be man-portable for instance.'
Simon left his place next to Steven, crossed to a refrigerator against the wall behind us and took out my bottle of still glowing milk.
‘I would not drink that.’ Said Patience.
‘In actual fact, you could.' Remarked Simon. ‘It is quite harmless.' To prove his point, he took a sip. ‘It does have a slight metallic taste though.' He joined us back at the table and placed the milk down between everyone.
We all stared at it.
‘This one stumped us for a while I don't mind admitting.' Simon picked up one of the computer printouts in the box to read from it. ‘The luminosity is provided by a concentrated extract from the bioluminescent pigment produced by a cuttlefish.'
I took that in. ‘How did it get in the cows?’
Simon shrugged but provided an answer anyway. ‘Probably ingestion. Bioluminescence is used in medicine all the time. The patient takes a pill and the only side effect is odd coloured pee for about a day. It would almost certainly also affect the blood if one were to check it and definitely milk production but that wouldn't be listed as a side-effect because it would never be administered to a pregnant woman.'
Patience wasn’t convinced. ‘What do doctors do with it once it is in a person?’
‘Steven, would you like to field this one?' Simon deferred to his partner.
Steven cleared his throat. ‘There is an opportunity to identify diseased tissue both by the spectral signals from activators or, in some cases, by the differences of the natural luminescence responses. For practical reasons, defined by the sensitivity range of standard luminescence detectors, much of the current medicinal work has focused on the short wavelength emissions driven by laser activation. However, I believe the techniques employed are poised to undergo a dramatic expansion in scope with the advent of higher sensitivity photocathodes with high-efficiency responses at long wavelengths. It will soon be possible to utilize a greater range of emission features. In recent examples there has been success with the detection of cancer, identifying tooth cavities and the suggestion that the non-destructive luminescence probes can distinguish between tissue changes at a very early stage of development.' He checked our faces to see if we had been able to keep up.
The only problem with talking to Simon and Steven was that they made me feel dumb.
Patience said. ‘Oh. Okay.’ As if she had understood any of i
t.
Regardless of the science behind it, someone was getting hold of medical supplies and doing so in enough quantities to dope a herd of cows. I did a mental high five to myself.
I had solved the case.
Well, sort of. Knowing how it was being done didn’t tell me who was doing it and why. I needed to work that bit out still but it felt like a victory anyway, even if just a small one. I was breaking the case down into manageable chunks. There had to be a connection here with Tamara since she worked in the pharmaceutical industry and was now dead. Had she been knowingly supplying the drugs? Or had she been killed because she caught the person that was taking them to use on the cows? Whichever it was, I had just taken a leap forward.
‘Anything else?’ I asked.
Both men looked at each other. ‘I don’t think so.’ Offered Simon. ‘Do you want the evidence?’ he asked, holding the box up for me to take.
I didn’t, but I doubted they did either so I took it gratefully and thanked them again.
As we headed to the door, Patience made a big show of having forgotten to pick up her phone. She rushed back to where it was sitting on the table conveniently next to the box of donuts and accidentally snagged another treat from the box.
‘I skipped lunch.’ She explained to the guys as she shoved the donut into her mouth. ‘I need the energy.’
Brett Visits. Friday, November 11th 1900hrs
I didn’t want Patience eating the donut in my car because I knew she would spill crumbs and sticky pieces, so she stuffed the whole thing into her face in one go. Then she sat in my passenger seat struggling to chew it. I think we were both relieved when she finally swallowed.
I dropped her off at home with a promise to see her at the bar opposite the club at eight o’clock the next night. All the girls were meeting there for cocktails and a catch up first. It would be too noisy to talk properly in the club.
