‘They are safe as long as I have those files.’
‘I won’t help you. I have my convictions as well. I believe in what we are doing, and if your research is used for non-peaceful purposes, then so be it.’
Woolston looked around the flat. He had to admit that it still looked good, and that Sue, even though she was older, was still an attractive woman. He had fancied her back then, he still fancied her. He knew that she’d probably be available to him if he wanted her, but he did not intend to take advantage. He still harboured hope that he could reunite with Gwen, even if for only the one time. Sue, he knew, was complicit in what had happened. ‘I’m sorry, but you will help me.’
‘Would you harm my mother?’
‘I killed Liz Hardcastle. What do you think?’
‘She fell in front of a train. It was early morning; she was jostled by the crowd.’
‘I did not want to kill Liz, but she was the smartest person in the department. The only person capable of understanding the problems.’
‘Malcolm, you’re not the person that Ed and I considered as a friend.’
‘That isn’t important. I have two objectives: one, to protect my family, and, two, to indefinitely delay further research on the project.’
‘It is a government project.’
‘You know what I mean.’
Sue Christie did not say it, but, yes, he was right. She did know about his work and the fact that others, including Ed, had been behind the scenes, discussing ways to commercialise a weapon that a department in another part of London was working on. In one place, Malcolm and his team were working on low-cost energy; in another, another team were taking the results and creating a weapon that once commissioned would be able to take that energy and destroy vast tracts of land and millions of people.
‘Where is this file?’
‘Phone your mother first. Check if she spoke to a man today about painting her house.’
‘You bastard. You’d harm my mother?’
‘I will do whatever is necessary. Phone your mother now.’
Sue picked up the phone and dialled. A short conversation and she ended the call.
‘I’ve no option, have I?’
‘None at all. I apologise, but from now on, I will do what is necessary.’
‘They’ll grab Gwen and Sally.’
‘Not if I have that file. And don’t think about letting Ed know of our conversation, and don’t try moving your mother. Any action against me, and I’ll deal with whoever, including your mother, as well as your two sisters. Believe me, I’ve done my homework.’
‘When do you want this file?’
‘Twenty-four hours.’
‘You’ve not told me where it is.’
‘I’ll contact you in due course.’
Chapter 20
Woolston had not enjoyed threatening Sue. Her mother was innocent of all crimes, but he needed leverage. The files were well hidden, and someone smart may have been able to decipher them if they were found. Liz Hardcastle could have probably, although she had not known where the files were, only of their existence.
Of all the people that had died, he regretted her death more than any other. They had worked together for two years and had formed a firm friendship at work, but never outside. Her husband, he knew, was into bird watching and the outdoor life. Liz had confided that she’d rather stay at home and potter around the house, but with her husband, every Saturday it was early in the car and off to another forest or marsh or wherever birds congregate. She had become his walking encyclopaedia on their names, their Latin names as well.
He remembered her smiling, inquisitive face, her constant need to understand his work, able to correct him when he made the occasional mistake. Apart from Gwen, he had to admit that he had liked her a lot. They both knew, he and Liz, that in different circumstances they would have been more than just work colleagues: he, the brilliant research mathematician and scientist, she, his intellectual equal. It had been her who had seen the potential of their work as a weapon; her who had inadvertently mentioned it to Ed Barrow, who had mentioned it to Hutton. Woolston shuddered at the chain of events that had resulted.
If only he hadn’t taken Liz into his confidence, about how there was a possibility of stabilising the power generated so that maximum power, maximum destructive power could be gained.
Liz, idealistic as he was, had not deserved to die that day in the railway station, he knew that, but she did not have the determination to resist.
It had been six months after his death that he had made his decision. He had seen Arbuthnot around the research department, even drinking with Ed Barrow in a local pub, which could only mean one thing: they were about to apply pressure, or they already had, and it could only be on Liz.
The railway station was crowded, and even then people had started to give him a wide berth due to his appearance. As he jostled in that crowd, edging closer to Liz, he still questioned whether he had the right to terminate her life. He had killed no one at that time, other than one of those that had tortured him. He could see her reading a book, quietly minding her own business. The train came into view. It was an express and not stopping. He edged forward, almost felt like saying sorry. A gentle nudge with his elbow, and she was in front of the train and then under it. Woolston remembered backing away from the scene as the other people moved forward. The newspapers carried the story the next day of how Liz Hardcastle, a government employee, well respected by her work colleagues, loved by
