‘You’re the one who asked a scientific question. I’m being specific.’
‘Thank you. Can you repeat those so I can write them down?’
Sandy did as asked.
Detective Porter thanked her again and apologised for disturbing her. ‘Try to get some rest. Do you have the same security there?’
‘Pardon?’
‘The big guys, the close protection blokes who look like heavyweights?’
Kelly Porter chuckled but Sandy sensed something loaded in the question. She puffed out her chest towards the Lion and the Lamb, as if they might help her. But she felt hunted right now, and very alone, like the lamb, not brave and strong, like the lion.
Jamie had accused her of lying to him about Neurohydroxy-14.
She’d told him they changed the formula to make it safe.
He hadn’t believed her. Just like Kelly Porter didn’t. But who was the biggest liar? The scientist, or the profiteer?
‘I have no idea,’ she said, and the detective said goodbye and hung up.
Images flooded her brain. Pictures of white rats killing one another. Blood against their white fur covering the floor of the cage. One rat started it, then the others joined in. She imagined them now with tin hats on, carrying weapons, lining up in military formation. Trained killers. Chemical killers. They’d chewed, scratched and gauged each other until they were all dead. The compound would change the face of modern warfare.
But that was never their original intention.
In the doses they’d used, Neurohydroxy-14 should be a superpower without being a lethal superweapon. It created a euphoric feeling of invincibility and strength. The rage must be activated separately, and they thought they’d perfected it.
But as she’d witnessed this week, perhaps they’d got it terribly wrong.
Paul was showing signs of irritability and stress like the rats had in week five.
That’s when it had all gone wrong. It’s why they’d chosen the Lake District. Now, they had to wait it out, here, together, until the effects of the hormone compound had worn off inside Paul’s blood, so they could see if he remembered what had happened in Jamie’s room before he died.
Chapter 36
Kelly took a phone call from the SOCO at the Old Man Guesthouse later on Thursday night.
She was having dinner with Lizzie and Ted and excused herself to take the call. The SOCO had been at the hotel in Skelwith all day, and she told Kelly she’d sent over some drawings by email.
‘They were inside the suitcase, and they stood out; I thought you’d want to see them.’
Kelly opened her phone. There were six attachments.
‘Have you found her phone yet?’ she asked.
‘Negative. There’s a lot to get through,’ the SOCO said.
‘Sure. My office has checked her known number for a signal and the phone company has confirmed that it last pinged off a tower close by. Jamie phoned her several times on Monday, and it was still there.’
‘We’ll keep looking.’
They ended the call and Kelly opened the email.
Watercolour had been added here and there on the intricate sketches, making them rather beautiful. Kelly’s first thought was that these were blueprints for future projects. Didn’t some artists sketch out their ideas first before they composed the final piece?
They exuded mystery and romanticism like much of the Lakeland virtuosity. They couldn’t be placed in time but if she had to guess, Kelly would say they depicted images from hundreds of years ago. Renaissance perhaps. But she was no connoisseur.
Looking closer and zooming in, Kelly saw the initials AR in the corner. Something stirred inside her and she appreciated theskill of the creator. They already knew Angelina was a fine artist, and it was no surprise that she was drawn to the Lakes. Artists had been lured here for centuries to draw, paint and craft the landscape into legend.
