At the gate, Huw and Lexi had turned left towards the commercial heart of Foreditch. Countless hailstones hurled themselves at the river, rippling the surface so the water appeared to be boiling. On the other side, the frozen rain clattered loudly against an approaching train that was reducing its speed as it neared the station.
Lexi’s burst of speed had not yet faded. Troy didn’t see much point in simply following her. He needed a different tactic. Above the storm, he yelled, ‘Immediate backup needed for Lexi Iona Four. Trace her life-logger. Can’t be far from Foreditch Crime Central.’ He dashed towards a bridge that spanned both the river and the railway. On the other side, he vaulted over the fence and sprinted up a short grassy slope onto the stones beside the track. Taking a deep breath, he ran alongside the train. When the last carriage came past, he leapt between the rails and accelerated. Gritting his teeth, he surged forward as fast as he was able and threw himself at the back of the coach. He grabbed a cold metal bar with both arms and his feet found the metal plate. There, he clung on tightly. Relieved. He’d acted on impulse — a dangerous impulse that might have got him injured or killed — but he was elated as well.
The train continued to brake but, even so, Troy overtook two people scampering through the hailstorm on the far river bank. As far as Troy could see, Lexi was lagging further behind Huw. As an outer, she was probably running out of steam. Neither of them noticed Troy on his unconventional and perilous perch.
When the train passed over the river and slowed to walking pace, Troy jumped off and scrambled onto the river bank. There, behind the entertainment complex, he waited. The path had turned white with small frozen spheres. The storm had eased a little but hail still bounced off his head and shoulders. The sky remained dark as nightfall loomed.
Within seconds, Huw saw Troy ahead and skidded to a halt. Puzzled, he stood still, uncertain. Then he turned slowly round, clearly wondering who he’d prefer to tackle — Troy or an exhausted Lexi.
‘I’m tired,’ Lexi called out as she drew close to him, ‘but I still don’t think you want to take me on. You might be surprised who comes off worse.’
On cue, two police officers from Foreditch Crime Central raced onto the path and positioned themselves behind her.
Huw glanced at the river and Troy realized that, just for an instant, he was thinking about making his escape by diving into the water and swimming. With a rail bridge nearby and four people against him, though, he must have decided that the attempt would fail. He would also have known that his every move would be captured by life-loggers.
Huw’s shoulders sagged. He was trapped. Game over.
A train sauntered out of town as Troy walked up to him. At the same time, Troy’s life-logger vibrated with an incoming message. When he saw it, Troy laughed. He held it up towards Huw and said, ‘Look. Memo from the team near Langhorn Reservoir. “No sign of subject Huw. No fresh graves in the wood.”’
‘You thought I might be dead?’
‘It’s a murder scene and you disappeared,’ Troy answered. ‘It was one theory. But it’s not holding up well right now. Another was that you’re a suspect. Running away adds to that impression.’
Still panting, Lexi joined them. Immediately, she glanced down to confirm Huw’s shoe size. The two officers stayed within a few paces in case they were needed.
‘But …’ Flustered, Huw hesitated.
‘Yes?’
‘You took me by surprise, turning up here. I suppose I panicked. I haven’t done anything wrong. I was just scared I made myself look guilty because I told you I was staying put, but didn’t.’
‘Why did you move on?’ Troy asked.
‘I didn’t like all the … commotion in the wood. Nothing more than that. I like peace and quiet.’
‘What’s in your backpack?’
‘All my worldly goods. And it’s nowhere near full.’
‘Some sharp tools?’
‘A few specialist ones for carving. Not many.’
‘Why come here?’ Troy said.
‘I told you before. I volunteer at the homeless centre.’
‘Do you know a man called Jerome who used to drop in now and again?’
Huw shook his head. ‘Doesn’t ring a bell. No.’
‘Well, here’s my problem. One of our victims was here before his body turned up next to Langhorn Reservoir. Now I find out you help out at the same place and you were living a stone’s throw from his grave. Your shoeprint’s right there, next to it. You’re the common factor.’
Huw opened his mouth to say something but failed to find the words.
Lexi said, ‘You know we’re going to arrest you, don’t you? We can’t have you running off again.’ She looked at the police reinforcements and said, ‘It’s a charge of resisting arrest for now.’
‘But,’ Huw spluttered, ‘I wouldn’t bury someone right next to my own cabin, would I? That’d be stupid.’
Quick as a flash, Lexi replied, ‘It’s not just clever people who commit crimes. Stupid people do it too.’
Troy smiled. ‘The reason you’re not facing something more serious is because we know someone else is involved. Do you want to tell us about an accomplice?’
‘I can’t. I don’t …’
‘Where did you get the trolley?’
‘Trolley? What trolley?’
Huw looked suitably surprised and bewildered.
‘All right,’ Troy said. ‘We’ll stick at resisting arrest. For one thing, I don’t think you’re stupid.’ To the uniformed officers, he said, ‘Don’t forget to check his bag. I think you’ll find some sharp instruments in it.’
While Troy and Lexi watched Huw being led away, the hail finally came to an end. Lexi looked at her partner and said, ‘Just tell me one thing. How did you get here so quickly?’
‘Technically,’ he replied, ‘I think it’s called cheating.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
‘A major has to preserve his mystery. Anyway, what about you? What was that bit about him coming off worse if he took you on?’
‘You only met me three days ago. Nowhere near long enough to probe the vast depths of an outer.’
SCENE 19
Lexi had not wasted the night. Between bouts of meditation, she had assembled a spreadsheet that summarized their case. She pointed at the first entry and said, ‘A spot of research told me L4G#1’s full name is Jerome Sebastian Eleven. He went off-grid two years ago. Killed and harvested for body parts last Friday but, because of the modern invention of cryonics, he could have been snatched weeks ago. Used The Solitude Network website.’
Troy sat and watched her, admiring her crisp and unemotional assessments.
‘A simple overnight DNA check using skin and hair from Olga Wylie’s house proves she’s L4G#2. No big shock there. Probably died around Tuesday 25th March. Body not harvested. She received a transplant instead. A huge gaffe gave her an outer’s heart and a quick death. Also used The Solitude Network website. Someone in size twelve shoes broke into her house and trod the ground near the place she was buried.
‘L4G#3 is Dmitri Backhouse. Died about 25th February. Possible assisted suicide arranged online via a suicide chat room. A thoroughly harvested body. Just about every usable bit taken.’ Lexi paused and added, ‘Note the online connection between all three.’ Then she sighed. ‘L4G#4’s a mystery. All we’ve got is an outer heart. It must have been available on 25th March or thereabouts because, in a way, it became the weapon that killed Olga Wylie.’ Gazing at Troy, she asked, ‘Am I boring you?’
‘No. I know it all, but a review’s really helpful. What about the clues that’re floating in mid-air?’