And, at last, she knew why he had wanted to kill his wife and son.
‘She’s rolled over on to her stomach and he’s putting his cock into her. The filthy fucking whore. She wants him.’
“Who is he?’ Kelly demanded.
‘My brother,’ roared Grant and, with that, made one last monumental effort to
break free.
The right hand strap split first, then came free.
i don’t want to see it. I DON’T WANT TO SEE IT,’ Grant bellowed, tugging himself out of the ankle restraints and the other wrist strap. He staggered to his feet, his chest expanding until it threatened to rip his shirt. ‘I don’t want to see it,’ he said again and lurched towards the table in the middle of the room. There, his searching hands found the greasy fork.
i NEVER WANT TO SEE IT AGAIN,’ he shrieked and raised the pronged implement.
Kelly knew that she could never reach the door. Grant blocked her way but, as she looked at him anxiously, she saw that his anger was not directed at her.
‘I won’t watch,’ he said, quietly, studying the fork which he held only inches from his face.
With quivering hand, he pushed the fork through his lower lid and into his eye. With infinite slowness he moved it in a digging action, the prongs gouging muscle and flesh as Grant shoved it further until the eye itself began to thrust forward. The prongs raked his skull as he prised the bursting orb from its socket. Blood gushed down his cheek, mingling with the vitreous liquid as the eye itself punctured. It did not come free but hung, suspended by the shredded remains of the optic nerve.
Mind numbing pain enveloped him but he managed to remain upright, guiding the fork towards his other eye.
Kelly gagged as she saw the prongs burrow through the upper lid this time, the curve of the fork enabling Grant to reach the retina itself. With a final despairing scream he managed to scoop the bloodied eye free of his skull.
There was a muffled, liquid plop as the orb left the socket, a vile sucking sound which was soon drowned out by Grant’s agonised shriek.
The eye itself dropped to the floor and lay there intact until Grant dropped to his knees, squashing it beneath him as if it had been an oversized grape.
Kelly found herself transfixed by those oozing sockets from which crimson was pumping in thick spurts, dribbling into the man’s open mouth.
She finally tore her gaze away and bolted for the door, wrenching it open and dashing out into the corridor.
The room was soundproofed. Until Kelly opened the door, the building had remained quiet but now the agonised shrieks of the blinded Grant echoed along every inch of the building. So great was the dose of atropine he’d received, so powerful the boost to his nervous system, Grant was even denied the merciful oblivion of unconsciousness. He merely slumped to the floor of the room moaning, the remains of one eye still dangling uselessly by a strand of nerve.
Inside the room, the tape recorder obediently captured the sounds of agony.
Preserving them forever.
How much did you say you gave him?’ Dr Vernon asked Kelly, reaching for the syringe.
‘10ml, perhaps a little more,’ she said, quietly.
Vernon nodded and held the hypodermic between his fingers for a moment before setting it down on the table again. He laid it beside the bloodstained fork, allowing his gaze to ponder on the implement for a few seconds. He exhaled and looked around the room. The floor was spattered with blood, droplets of it had splashed a wide area, puddling into bigger pools in one or two places. There was a purplish smudge close to his foot where the eye had been squashed and Vernon moved to one side.
The remains of the restraining straps lay on or near the bed and, he noticed that there were even a few speckles, of crimson on the sheets.
Maurice Grant had been removed about fifteen minutes earlier.
Now Vernon stood amidst the carnage, flanked by Kelly and John Fraser.
Fraser looked distinctly queasy and could not seem to tear his gaze from the bloodstained fork on the table. The mere thought of what it had been used for made him feel sick.
‘Is he going to die?’ asked Kelly, anxiously.
‘The ambulancemen didn’t seem, to know one way or the other,’ Vernon told her.
‘Once the effects of the atropine wear off he’ll go into shock. After that …’ He allowed the sentence to trail off.
‘So, first he nearly kills me,’ said Fraser. ‘Now he more or less succeeds in killing himself. Surely this is enough for you, doctor?’
‘What do you mean?’ Vernon wanted to know.
‘There will have to be a full-scale enquiry into what happened today. There’s no way that you can continue with this research now.’
‘As Director of the Institute / will decide if an enquiry is necessary or not,’ Vernon told him.
‘Do you seriously think that the outside authorities are going to let something like this drop without investigating it?’
‘I couldn’t give a damn about the outside authorities,’ snapped Vernon. ‘What goes on inside these walls is my concern.’
‘And the fact that a man could have died today doesn’t bother you?’ Fraser said, challengingly.
‘Grant knew that he might be taking risks when he agreed to participate in the experiments.’
‘Acceptable risks, yes, but …’
Vernon cut him short.
‘Risks,’ he said, forcefully.
Fraser now turned his attention to Kelly.
‘With all due respect, Kelly, you are responsible for this,’ he said.
‘I realize that,’ she said. Then, to Vernon: ‘I’m prepared to resign.’
‘No,’ he said, without hesitation. ‘That wouldn’t solve anything.’
Kelly could not conceal the look of surprise which flickered across her face.
‘She broke every rule of this bloody Institution,’ growled Fraser. ‘She nearly killed a man as well and you …’
It was Kelly’s turn to interrupt.
‘Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,’ she snarled. ‘I know I was in the wrong. God knows I wish I could repair the damage I’ve done.’
‘The research had to be taken to its logical conclusion,’ Vernon said, supportively.
‘That conclusion presumably being the death of the subject,’ said Fraser, sarcastically.
‘There was no way of knowing exactly how the atropine would affect Mr Grant,’
said Vernon, as if he were defending himself instead of Kelly. She looked on dumbfounded as he came to her rescue.
‘A dose of 5ml is considered dangerous. We all know the effects of the drugs we use. Kelly should have known that injecting Grant with twice that amount would have serious side-effects.’
‘Did Grant actually say anything of use while he was drugged?’ Vernon wanted to know.
is that important now?’ Fraser said, angrily.
Vernon turned on him, his grey eyes blazing.
‘Yes, it is important. The only thing that matters is that this project is successful. If certain sacrifices have to be made then that’s unfortunate but unavoidable.’
‘You’re insane,’ said Fraser, his tone a little more controlled now. ‘This isn’t research to you anymore, it’s an obsession. How many more people are going to be injured or killed before you’re satisfied? Before you have the answers you want?’
‘That’s enough, Fraser,’ Vernon warned him.
