The Relic Keeper (11 page)

Philip looked at the files that Deon had input onto his c-pac. Deon had been apologetic that this was a small amount of the possible data. “The tip of the snowstorm,” he’d called it.
You're a clever moron
, thought Philip. The Walden Centre was certainly up to something that veered between illegal and immoral. The files were not exactly what he’d expected, but they included details of earlier attempts to restore patients from cryonic suspension. But why then go to the bother of actually reviving any of their frozen patients?

“What the fuck are you up to Warwick?” he said quietly to himself. He scanned the list of names, but nothing appeared to link them or sounded any alarms for him. He looked at the profiles. All were in their 20s or 30s, and all appeared to have died as a result of RTAs, whatever they are. Philip looked up the meaning of the letters. Anything he’d ever researched in the twentieth century was always full of these acronyms. It was annoying. But even when he’d discovered the phrase road traffic accident, he still couldn’t find any other links between them. On top of which, the information that the Walden Centre had released about Lyal said that he’d suffered from a heart defect, and hadn’t died as a result of an accident; road traffic or otherwise. It must be a coincidence, he decided. The traffic was heavier back then. He poured a small glass of scotch and stood at the window to his apartment, thinking through the events as Deon had explained them to him. The girl, Reiko, could be of use after all, that was for sure. He was going to have to try to meet her properly. Deon could arrange that later. But he needed to work out why this was happening as it was; it didn’t make sense to revive any of the people they had frozen in their clinic.

His c-pac beeped annoyingly at him and checked the alert: it was a message from Justine.

“Hi Philip, how are you?”

“Puzzled, pissed off, wondering where my story’s going. Usual stuff. What you got?”

“Your man Warwick.”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“He’s selling shares.”

“Many?”

“A shit load more than he bought through the company!”

“Yeah, I think he’s been buying them privately, he’s got a large holding in the Walden Centre.”

“Well, not any more, ’cos he’s just shifted twenty eight percent of the company and put another thirty percent on the market. And they’re not all in his name, either.”

“Shit, I knew he had extra shares but that’s more than I knew about.”

“Well, if you see him, be nice, ’cos he’s just about to make, well, I reckon about just over 500 million.”

Philip whistled through his teeth. “Anything else?”

“Not at the moment. But if you want to do anything on this story, do it quick, because if I was him I wouldn’t be hanging about in Britain for the investigation.”

“Thanks, I’ll check it.” He terminated connection and finished his drink.

So, Warwick ran some dodgy shares deal, had an illegal limb and organ factory, and now a piece of excellent publicity has allowed his shares to soar and get him the cash to get a ticket out of any investigation. Philip was probably the only one really onto Warwick, but Warwick would need to cover his tracks before he could leave the country, if that was his plan. And how would he do that? What will that mean for the clinic, and the people like Lyal in there? He ran a message through to Deon:

“Check something for me, pal. Can you access Lyal’s medical files.”

“Yeah, some of them, why?”

“See if there’s anything happening, anything like a transfer to another clinic, or change of personnel. Call me back when you know.”

“A transfer, no there’s not. Why?”

“How do you know?”

“Because I looked through some his files earlier and that wasn’t there.”

Philip was puzzled. “Why did you check his medical records?”

“There’s this girl here, a nurse or something, and she wanted me to look into his files ’cos he’s got a wife and kid, and she thought they might be here. Well, not the daughter, but the wife. Although to be honest I suppose that the daughter could be here, but anyway, we weren’t looking for her. She could be anywhere really. Well, not anywhere I guess, but certainly we’d be pushed to find….”

“James, the records?”

“Oh yeah, we’ve been looking in the old files, and she’s found all this weird old shit in there about operations and transplants and stuff, that’s what I sent you.”

“And this girl, she works with Lyal?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you get her to meet me?”

“Not sure, she was a bit cagey.”

“Well try.”

“Ok, I’ll do my best.”

“And can you copy me the information that you get?”

“Yeah. Will this pay?”

“James, this will certainly pay.”

The Beatles were singing Hey Jude when Rei entered Mathew’s room. He seemed a little brighter today, and was sitting on his bed, practising swinging his leg.

“Found some music you like, then?”

“Well, I’m really a jazz man, but this is good. It’s the first time I’ve heard anything like this in…” he trailed off, “well, in a long time. James showed me how to access other tunes through the data-thing but this was the only one it would actually allow me use. I’m not really sure why I couldn’t get anything else. But, yeah, The Beatles were cool, and I’ve got the whole collection here from Love Me Do to Let it Be, well technically Abbey Road was the final recording, but hey, it’s all there. You like The Beatles? I bet you’re more of a Rolling Stones person.”

“No, not really. I know Vaughan Williams. Were these people popular when you were younger?”

“Well, hardly. I mean, yeah The Beatles and The Stones were huge when I was kid, but I don’t really remember them. I was only getting into music in the 70s, and there wasn’t much good music from then on. The Beatles are just those bands whose albums you had, you know.”

“What are albums?”

“Albums, they’re, well, they’re collections of songs, all released together.”

“Like in an opera?”

“No, not really. Except for Tommy, by The Who.”

“Oh, I see,” said Rei, not really understanding at all. The music she’d studied had always told stories or been linked in ‘symphonies’ and ‘movements’. “So this isn’t jazz then.”

“No, no this ain’t jazz,” he said, shaking his head. People in this era really didn’t know their music. He made a mental note to play James some Beatles, and marked up All You Need is Love to play for him later. He would need educating in music too, Mathew imagined. “So how’s your day been?”

“Oh, good.”

“What do you do in your spare time?”

“Spare time. That is the time I don’t spend working, correct?” Rei said with a slight laugh. She was getting use to some of Mathew’s strange sayings.

“Yeah, your time out of work.”

“I don’t have much time out of work, Mathew. Perhaps if you get better quickly I can have some, then I could go to a ‘gig’ and see some ‘rock and roll’,” she replied, exaggerating the phrases she’d picked up while she attended to the work she had to perform.

“Do you not go out here then, when you’re not administering to me?”

“I wouldn’t go to many places in London, Mathew. People here are not friendly. I know few people, and much of the city is not safe.”

“Doesn’t sound like it’s changed much then.”

“Can I get you anything, before I go?”

“I don’t think there’s anything that I need that you could get me, thanks. Er, don’t s’pose you’ve found out anything about Paula?”

“I have not been able to. The records here are restricted; I have no authority to them. I have told you that before,” she said, then leant across him to reset one of the monitors, and said in a soft whisper, “I’m working on something, but keep it quiet.” She moved away and motioned with her eyes to the units above the door, and winked. She gave him a soft smile and disappeared through the sliding door at the side of the room.

Outside she walked briskly down the corridor and into the elevator. It was hard convincing Mathew that he should be discreet in the room with the sets of watchers monitoring him. While he was free to do and say what he pleased she would not be able to talk freely. She liked the opportunities that existed when she left the room and she escorted him around the empty floor, and they could speak more candidly, but he would keep asking at the wrong times. She exited the elevator, took her coat from the locker and scanned out of the clinic into the street, when suddenly she became aware of someone at her side, and looked over to see James. He took her arm and whispered:

“Come with me, I think it’s important.” And he led her across the road, down an alley, and into a pub.

“James, I shouldn’t be in a bar here. What are you doing?”

“Ok, ok, I just need to talk to you, just not in the clinic, right?” He bustled her across the bar to the corner. “Just sit here for a second. Do you want a drink?”

“Water.”

James returned after five minutes carrying two glasses, neither of which looked like water, and accompanied by another man that Rei didn’t recognise. He walked passed James and extended a large hand to Rei.

“Hello, you must be Miss Ishinomori. My name’s Philip, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m very pleased to meet you in person at last.”

“Thank you. But I’m not sure what James has told you…or why.”

“We’ve met before actually, albeit only through an ether connection, I don’t know if you remember?” She looked blankly at him. Evidently she didn’t remember.

“Here’s your drink, Rei, I forgot what you wanted so I got the same as me,” James said, passing the glass over. Rei sniffed it cautiously and wrinkled her face.

“Water, James, just a glass of water please.”

“Sorry, you could keep that anyway, if you like, it’s good.” She extended the glass to him.

“Thank you, but I’d like water…please.” James reluctantly scuttled back to the bar, and tried to attract the surly waitress’s attention.

“He must be awkward to work with,” said Philip.

“I don’t exactly work with him. We are just both employed by the same people.”

“Yeah, you’re with Walden,” Philip nodded. “Good is it there?”

“Yes very. I’m sorry, but is there a point to this conversation?”

“I’m interested in Mathew Lyal, I understand that you’re the nurse who administers to him.”

“Well firstly, everyone is interested in Mathew. Secondly, I am not a nurse, I’m an intern, and as you are not a doctor, I assume your interest is journalistic.”

“No. Well, yes, I’m a writer, and a researcher. I’ve interviewed Dr Warwick.”

“In his office or by kidnapping him in a bar?”

“You know, you’re quite funny. I had you down as someone with no sense of humour, but really…’

“I’m very sorry,” Rei interrupted, “but I really don’t know why James brought me here, what he wants, or who you are, Mr…?”

“Brading. Call me Philip though.”

“Hmm,” she snorted. “I have better things to do than chat to you about Dr Warwick, Mr Brading. And no doubt you will be asking about Mr Lyal next. So I think I should leave.”

“I’m sorry, please stay for a second I need to speak to you, and you’re right I do want to talk about Lyal, but I have good reasons.” Rei stood and went to push passed Philip. He knew he had to grab her attention now. “Reiko, he’s in danger you know.”

She stopped, and looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Really? From whom? You?”

“No. People want to get to him. There’s a whole lot of people who’ll be only too pleased to see him dead again. It can’t stop with him leaving here, you know. The Church aren’t happy, and it’ll only be a matter of time before someone, some God-freak, tries to blow him away. And the clinic won’t help, you know, they’re getting enough flak as it is. Are you reading the correspondence about this? ’Cos you should you know. The Christians, Muslims and Jews are all condemning this. It’s the first thing they’ve all agreed on for years; only the Hindus are unsure where they stand. Maybe it’s not that strong now, but it will be. There’s pressure from all the main religious groups to raise this with Department of Ethics. This will turn into an ethical issue, and the clinic will drop it like a hot potato when it does. And the clinic’s records aren’t what they want the world to think.” Rei remained standing, but didn’t move to leave.

“What do you know about the clinic’s records?”

The girl was Philip’s only chance to get to Mathew. He had to take a gamble that her loyalties lay more with him than with her employers. He carried on in a controlled voice.

“Warwick’s selling shares. Lots of them. He’s getting out of the company, and he’s doing it now before this whole thing blows up in some blaze of bad coverage. And I know someone at the clinic has already gained to access to Mathew, someone with a history of religious cult membership. Why do you think they’d do that, Rei? Not everyone is like you, trying to do some good for the world. People will want to harm him.”

“And who do you think has gained illicit access to Mathew? Because I personally know everyone who has spoken to him.”

“Look, I have sources, and I just know that someone is getting close to him.”

“You mean James, yes?” she said, nodding at the man at the bar, still waiting to be served. “He’s not trying to harm him, you know. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but I know he’s not trying to harm him.”

“You don’t know a thing about him. He’s not who he says he is, you know.”

“I’m not stupid, Mr Brading. I have noticed that James Peacock has grown two inches and changed his hair and eye colour since I first met him. And for some reason he’s now hanging about on a floor that he should not be working on. But it doesn’t make him a threat.”

Philip was taken aback. “You know he’s an impostor, and you haven’t done anything?”

“I have done something. I’ve watched him, and I know he’s not a threat.” She nodded over Philip’s shoulder, and he saw that Deon was coming back. “Personality, identity and employment theft is rife in the lower echelons of the health market. It’s hard to get references for a position, but no one ever really checks any details, so people steal jobs or sell their positions when they leave. If we assumed the worst every time a name did not equate to a face, we would never have
any
porters. It really is not the most heinous crime in London, you know,” she stated. “Who is he then?” she added in a whisper.

It was time to put his cards on the table and see what happened.

“The police think he’s been involved in a multiple homicide.”

Rei laughed at the allegation. “Do you think they’re right?”

“No, I don’t think I do.”

“Then we’re agreed.” She took a glass from Deon as he arrived back. “Thank you James. I’ve been speaking with Mr Brading. He has lots of ideas and opinions. Do you know him well?

“Yeah, we’re great friends, aren’t we?” said Deon, throwing an arm around Philip, which was gently moved off by the reporter. “He thinks Mathew may be in some danger.”

“So I gather. What do you think?”

“Me? Well, I dunno.” Deon suddenly felt under scrutiny. Rei urged him to say what was on his mind. He looked from her to Philip, then back, took a gulp of his gin and continued. “I think Mathew’s a nice guy, but I think there’s more. I reckon that maybe there’s a reason why he’s here. I know that there’s a reason why all of us are here, that’s all, you know, critical, it’s all part of the, the whole picture.” He rolled his eyes round the room to demonstrate. “But I think Mathew’s got something to do, something that he
has
to do.”

“You mean he has a destiny?” asked Philip, catching Rei’s eye.

“Yeah, well, sort of.” He lowered his voice as he continued. “We all have a destiny, something God wants us to do.”

“God?” asked Philip.

“Yeah,” said Deon, speaking even more quietly.

“I don’t believe in God.”

“Well, God’s watching you anyway. So, he’s got a reason for being here, Mathew that is, otherwise he wouldn’t have come back. I don’t know what it is; I doubt even he knows what it is yet. But I think us, you know, us three, have the duty to look after him and let him do whatever it is he has to do. And people will try to stop him, like they did…to Jesus, you know, but we have to keep him safe.” Deon looked at the faces watching him, and smiled slightly. Speaking louder again he added, “Well, that’s what I think.”

“So you think it’s important to keep him safe,” asked Rei, and made a gesture at Philip.

“Well of course.”

Philip sat back in his chair, trying to get a feeling on this guy. He sounded genuine. Ok, he was fucking nuts, but he was genuine with it. He didn’t come over like the type who would set a fire and shoot nearly 200 people. Philip had met religious fanatics before. People who believed that God was working through them by killing, but Deon wasn’t like that. He was too cagey. Maybe Rei was right.

“So we all seem to think that Mathew could be in danger, and we need to look after him. Right?” said Rei.

“Guess we’re thinking something like that,” said Philip cautiously.

“Can I ask what exactly it is that you’re writing about in relation to this, Mr Brading?”

“I don’t know what I’m writing on this yet, you know. I think it could be a longer piece than I originally expected. I thought I was writing a short article but now I’m thinking it’s a kindle. But I promise you, that I’ll let you see anything I write before it goes to print.”

“Will you interview Mathew?”

“I’d like to, but Warwick won’t let me. I don’t really trust him.”

“Good,” said Rei. “Then you’re not quite as stupid as you look. Call me when you hear anything.” And she stood and left, heading back to her apartment. Philip watched her go as he sat with Deon and finished his drink quickly, not wanting to overextend the time spent with him.

“She’s a feature, you know,” said Deon, watching Rei leave.

Philip slapped him lightly on the cheek. “She is so far out of your league, pal, don’t think about it.” He walked to the door, and called back as he left: “
You
, call me if you hear anything, Right?” He could see this all going horribly wrong for him just because he was trusting some nut who a girl he didn’t know had a feeling about. “This has all the makings of a disaster,” he said to himself, and left the bar. Right on cue thunder started to rumble, and the rain began.