Catch Your Death Part 31

Finally, after a few days, they were given the all clear and released in time for Stephen's funeral. Before being let go, they were all made to sign the Official Secrets Act.

'What's the alternative?' Paul had asked. 'The Pimenov Technique?'

Agent French, who had asked them to sign the forms, seemed surprised he had heard of it.

'You understand,' she said, 'that everything that happened at that lab needs to remain a secret. It's for the public good. Do you think we want to cause a nationwide panic, paranoia that there are...mad scientists in our own midst waiting to kill us all with deadly viruses?'

'Maybe it's better for people to be vigilant,' Paul argued.

French shook her head, her sleek blonde hair shining in the artificial light. 'No. Gaunt was a one-off.'

Vernon had stayed in the UK for another day; a day during which he and Kate sat down and tried to work out what was going to happen.

'I'm not going to back to the States,' Kate said firmly.

'I figured that.'

'And I want Jack to stay with me here, start school, make new friends. I might look for a place near Miranda so he can be near his cousins.'

'And what about money? I guess you'll be wanting alimony.'

Kate half smiled. 'I'd appreciate a contribution, but it would be for Jack, not me. I'm going to get another job. I'm going to start contacting universities next week.'

Vernon snorted. 'Hasn't all this put you off wanting to be near viruses?'

'It's what I do, Vernon. What I'm good at. In fact, knowing there are people like Gaunt out there and despite what Agent French said, we can't be sure he's a one-off I feel even more driven now.'

'Fighting the good fight, huh?'

'Somebody's got to do it.'

Vernon was quiet for a while. 'I'm gonna miss Jack,' he said. 'Not you, but I'll miss my boy.'

'Boston's not that far away. I'll bring him over once or twice a year, and you can visit here, if you can stand to come to England again.'

'Hmm. If my son's going to have a G.o.dd.a.m.n Brit accent, I'd better learn to like it.'

And that was it. The first time Kate and Vernon had sat down and talked to one another like adults since...well, she honestly couldn't remember the last time. She felt sad, and a little guilty. She knew Jack would miss his dad. But it was the only way. And it would work out. That's what Aunt Lil always used to say. 'Things always work out, Kate. People say G.o.d moves in mysterious ways, and I really believe that.'

Privately, though, Kate wondered if it wasn't just life. She couldn't be sure if G.o.d had anything to do with it.

'How are you feeling?' Kate asked Paul after a little while.

'I'm okay. I think.' He nodded, as if trying to convince himself. 'Yeah, I'm fine.'

She waited for him to go on, but he said, 'I think I probably feel exactly the same as you. I feel cheated, because I found him and then lost him again. But I also feel glad that we've given him a proper funeral. I suppose... I suppose I also feel that the real Stephen died a long time ago. In 1990. That wasn't the real Stephen working in that lab. He wasn't the brother I remembered. Or the man you loved.'

Kate nodded.

'I did love him,' she said. 'But you know I love you now.'

He kissed her cheek lightly and then they embraced, holding each other tightly and not needing to speak. She meant it when she told Paul she loved him, but she wondered if it was going to work out between them. How would they fare in the real world, away from hunts and shootings and car chases and all the terror and excitement that had ignited their relationship? And she wondered if Stephen would always cast a shadow over them. She couldn't help but think that Paul would always fear that she loved him because he reminded her of his brother, her first love. And maybe he wanted to be with her because she was a link to his twin.

She didn't know how things were going to work out with her and Paul. All they could do was try.

Right now, though, she couldn't bear the thought of being without him.

Paul went up and spoke to his parents, hugging his mum and squeezing his dad's shoulder. Then he and Kate headed for their car in order to make their way home. It was like a furnace inside the car Kate almost said this aloud, then stopped herself, thinking of Stephen's coffin sliding through those curtains. Paul switched on the aircon and started the engine.

Driving out of the crematorium, Kate felt a tickle in her nose. Hayfever, or something worse. For a second, panic flared inside her. It was the Pandora virus; the safe, incubation period had been longer than Gaunt had claimed. Or the virus had mutated... She caught her breath then told herself not to be ridiculous. She was fine. It was just a cold, that was all. Just a common cold.

2.

The two men, one of whom was Agent Jason Harley, the other an older man, powerful and distinguished, with neatly-trimmed grey hair, sat in the parlour of what had once been Dr. Gaunt's home. Harley had only met the other man once before, at some official function when the man had deigned to mingle with the rank and file of MI5. In the cellar below them, scientists in biohazard suits were clearing up, removing and cataloguing the many vials of viruses and bacteria that made up Gaunt's collection.

'Quite a treasure trove,' the older man said, with a smile.

Harley nodded. 'Not including the Pandora and Piranha viruses, there are enough diseases down there to wipe out entire countries.' He took out a cigarette. He'd been meaning to quit but his motivation had taken a nosedive this week.

'The entire world, I'd say.'

'What's going to happen now?' Harley asked. 'I imagine it's all going to be taken somewhere and destroyed.'

The older man laughed. 'Destroyed? Well, that would be the official story if there was an official story.' He gestured for Harley to pa.s.s him a cigarette and lit up.

'Shame about Clive Gaunt,' he said. 'I knew him, many years ago, just after the war. A brilliant man. Very good at chess, as I recall. Such a shame he felt as if he had to go it alone. We could have used him.'

Harley tried not to show his shock. He was ambitious and wanted to go far in the Agency. He wanted this man to be impressed by him. But he couldn't help but say, 'But he was a murderer. A people trafficker. And I haven't even mentioned the viruses.'

'Yes.' He examined the glowing tip of his cigarette. 'A pity. I read the transcript of your interview with Dr. Maddox. From what she says, Gaunt had become frustrated by what he saw as government restrictions on science. Shame he didn't wait, or contact us recently. Things have been different since 9/11. He could have come to work for us, perhaps.'

Harley tried to suppress a shudder at the thought of working alongside Gaunt.

The older man stood up and gestured for Harley to follow him.

'Do you think Dr. Maddox and Wilson will stay quiet about what they've seen?'

Harley thought about it. 'I'd say so. I got the impression they wanted to put it behind them.'

'Hmm. Well, just in case, I want you to arrange ongoing surveillance of both of them. It's best to keep an eye on them. Ask the Americans to do the same with Vernon Maddox too.'

He turned and put his hand on Harley's shoulder. 'You did a good job here, Harley even if it was partly by accident. You'll go far.'

'Thank you, sir.' He swallowed, his throat and mouth dry.

'You alright, Harley? You look a touch pale.'

'I'm fine, sir.'

'Good, good. Perhaps you need a holiday. Look at it,' he said, nodding towards the astonishing blue sky. 'It's a beautiful day. You should get some sun.'

'Thank you, sir.'

The older man walked away, and Agent Harley went back into the house. The thing was, he didn't feel at all well, all of a sudden. He felt cold, despite the heat of the day. His throat was sore. He glanced over at the door that led down towards the cellar, where all those terrifying microscopic diseases were kept. What if...? No, he shook the thought away. He was just being paranoid.

He could do with a holiday though. Somewhere a long way from here. He'd go online later, see if he could get a cheap flight somewhere. America maybe. Or Asia.

He sat down, fishing in his pocket for a tissue.

He'd sort out the surveillance of Maddox and Wilson when he got back from his holiday. When he felt better.

You can find Mark Edwards on Twitter @mredwards and Louise Voss @louisevoss1 or email them at

Also by Mark Edwards and Louise Voss.

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