The Blood Tree (18 page)

“He seems to be doing all right,” Katharine said from behind me.

“Mm. I get the feeling he's had enough of lying on his back without his precious books.”

We were ushered away from the door as the mobile bed was wheeled out. Then we followed it down the corridor. I could hear the old man grumbling as he went.

Katharine laughed. “No sign of any major personality change.”

I nodded. “If he's complaining now, wait till he gets into a ward full of other patients. He'll soon have them talking in whispers so he can read in peace.”

It didn't take long for the formalities to be completed and for Hector to be set up in his next temporary home. All the infirmary's general wards are mixed sex to maximise the space. He found himself between an elderly man with yellowish skin and a young female citizen. Her broken leg was on a pulley and her looks were definitely above par.

“How are you feeling then, old man?” I enquired.

“How am I feeling
now
, you mean, failure,” he replied impatiently. “You do have a command of English, don't you?”

“Apparently not,” I said, leaning over and taking in his lined face and pallid skin. “Answer the question. How do you feel?”

“All right, I suppose.” Hector looked away disconsolately, as if he'd suddenly realised that he wasn't going to be the centre of attention for much longer. Then he turned his head back towards me and beckoned to me to come close again. “Your woman friend,” he said in a low voice. “I made a fool of myself, didn't I? She's Katharine, not Caro.”

I nodded. “Don't worry. She's forgiven you.”

The old man twitched his head in irritation. “Pathetic,” he complained. “How could I make a mistake like that? I must be going senile.”

“Don't be ridiculous. You had a serious heart attack. And now you're going to make a full recovery.”

He wasn't listening. “I'm sorry, Quintilian. It was just that Caro seemed very real. Even though it's over ten years now . . .” He looked at me awkwardly, his eyes damp. “She and you were so close. I've never seen love like that. I'm sorry I never told you I was happy for you. I had to follow the Council's bloody guidelines and feign indifference to human feelings.” He shook his head. “God, if the Enlightenment hadn't taken over Edinburgh, you two would have got married, you'd have had children—”

This was becoming hard to cope with. I squeezed my father's hand then pulled away, aware that my own eyes were wet too.

“You've nothing to blame yourself about, Hector,” I said quietly. “I always knew how you felt about us. That's all that matters.” I took a step back. “Now, you do what the nurses tell you. It won't be long before you're back with your dirty Latin books.”

He nodded weakly, raising his hand at Katharine.

Before we reached the door I heard him asking the woman in the next bed what her name was. For a card-carrying member of the Misogynist International my father was remarkably good at charming members of the opposite sex when he could be bothered.

“So,” Katharine said as we hit the corridor. “What next?”

I stopped. I was seriously thinking about disobeying Hamilton's instruction not to pester his colleagues and going down to Sophia's office. What she knew about the current genetic research might help me out in the investigation. Then I made myself reconsider. Sophia wasn't corrupt, nor was she stupid. If she knew about some link between the murder and the research, she'd have told Hamilton if not me. Before I could make a final decision, I got a surprise.

“Quint? I wondered if I'd find you here.” The voice came from behind me, at the level of the small of my back.

I recognised it before I turned. “Billy?” I looked down at the crumpled figure in the wheelchair. “Christ, long time no see. How have you been?”

The guy who had once been my best friend was ignoring me now. He only had eyes for Katharine. “I remember you,” he said to her. “January 2022, wasn't it?” Trust a financial wheeler-dealer to have perfect recall for numbers.

“Billy Geddes, Heriot 07 as was,” Katharine said, showing that she had a good memory for figures too. “Demoted for corruption in 2021. You were sent to rehabilitation, weren't you?” She smiled humourlessly. “Have they let you out of the human zoo?” Demoted auxiliaries sent to rehab are given animal codenames, supposedly to emphasise the bestial natures that are to be programmed out of them. Billy had been known as the Jackal.

Billy cackled like a broody hen. “She's really something, this squeeze of yours, Quint.”

He was taking his life in his hands, referring to Katharine in those terms. Even though his arms and legs had been shattered in an accident I was partially responsible for in 2020, I suspected she might still use force on him. I frowned to warn her off.

“You in here for a check-up, Billy?” I asked. “You look pretty well.”

He ran his fingers over the thin hair that was plastered on to his scalp. “Pretty well?” he repeated ironically. “Oh aye, I'm fine. I'm brilliant. Thanks for asking, Quint.” He gave me a harsh stare. “Course, if you ever bothered to visit me, you wouldn't need to ask.”

I nodded, feeling my cheeks redden. Billy and I had once been very close but I never really came to terms with his self-interest and his greed. I still felt guilty about cutting him loose though.

“You got out of rehab in the spring, didn't you?” I said.

“I knew you'd have your spies keeping an eye on me,” Billy said, froth dotting his lips. “No doubt you're aware that the Council's using me to check their biggest deals with the tourist companies and the like.”

I shrugged. I'd actually suggested that to Sophia when she was acting senior guardian a year back. It seemed a waste of talent to ignore Billy, for all his past sins and his inherent untrustworthiness.

Suddenly Billy's expression softened. “I heard your father had a heart attack, Quint. How is he?” When we were kids before independence, Billy was a frequent visitor to our house in Newington. His own parents had divorced and he eventually got quite attached to mine – until they became Council members and cut themselves off from personal contact with everyone, including me.

I filled him in about Hector, touched by his concern. It didn't last long. He saluted me with a sardonic laugh, gave Katharine an attempt at a winning smile and propelled himself down the corridor at what I thought, given his shrunken frame and twisted arms, was impressive speed.

“He's crazy,” Katharine said, shaking her head.

“No, he's not,” I said, feeling the need to defend my former friend. “Despite the pounding he took, his mind's as sharp as ever.”

It was only as we were walking out of the infirmary that a couple of things struck me about Billy's sudden appearance. The first was that he hadn't answered my question about what he was doing in the hospital. There hadn't been any nursing auxiliaries in attendance and he looked no worse than he had the last time I saw him. And the second was that he'd headed down the passageway that led to Sophia's quarters. Bloody hell. Surely he couldn't have something to do with the genetic engineering group. Hamilton had told me that the finance guardian was in charge of funding the research. But that didn't rule out the possibility that Billy's talents and his contacts outside the city were being used. It wouldn't be the first time I'd come across Billy's traces during an investigation.

Then my mobile buzzed and Davie came gave me some news that blew all thoughts of Billy Geddes away faster than the first north-westerly of winter.

“So what?” Katharine said as we climbed into the guard vehicle. “Kids go from time to time day in this city whatever the Council might like to pretend.”

“Not from the Lauriston Facility, they don't.” I ground the starter motor into action and pulled away. “It's got an eight-foot fence round it.”

“There's something else, isn't there, Quint?” she said suspiciously. “Something connected with the murder.”

I screwed my eyes up, trying to make out citizens on bicycles without rear lights in the mist. “You're right,” I said, nodding. “There's a witness who saw someone familiar.” I gave her a quick glance. “A tall, fearsome guy wearing a long cloak.”

The Lauriston Adolescent Care Facility, to give it its full title, isn't your standard Welfare Directorate cross between a crèche and a prison, despite the fence. It's a home for the city's next generation of smartarses. They're the contemporary equivalent of the nobility who built the sixteenth-century Lauriston Castle – in twenty-first-century Edinburgh we have intellectual aristocrats rather than chinless gits with ridiculous accents. The facility stands in a large expanse of gardens overlooking the Firth of Forth to the far north-west of the central zone. Not that we could see the water. Visibility wasn't much more than twenty yards and the drizzle was in the process of becoming heavy rain. Perfect weather for a kidnap.

There was a guard presence in addition to the normal barracks sentry at the gate. We showed ID.

“Ah, Citizen Dalrymple,” the grizzled guardsman said. “Hume 253 said you were on your way.”

“Where is he?”

“He's waiting for you at the facility entrance.” The guardsman drew himself up. “The public order guardian is here too.”

“Great,” I said under my breath as I engaged first gear. “It didn't take the old vulture long to get stuck in.”

The driveway curved to the left through woods and cultivated ground. No doubt having stratospheric IQs didn't get the inmates off potato digging and kale gathering.

“Why's there so much security?” Katharine asked. “Not that it's done much good.”

“You know how highly the Council rates intelligence. The city's young geniuses have to be nurtured and protected. We wouldn't want them squandering their abilities on dissident activity or crime, would we?”

“But I thought the Council set up an equitable system that took into account the talents and needs of all citizens,” she said, quoting the Enlightenment's manifesto.

“It did. But the guardians need some citizens' talents more than others'.”

Stationary guard vehicles, including Hamilton's Jeep, loomed out of the murk. Behind them rose the turreted tower of the castle, which put the nineteenth-century extensions and Council-inspired outhouses to shame. It looked like something out of a Gothic romance – one in which the villain flits in and out of sight like a hungry ghost. I could see pupils in classrooms turning their heads surreptitiously towards Katharine and me.

“Hello, Quint,” Davie said from beneath the hood of his rain-jacket. He didn't favour Katharine with a greeting. “The guardian's in the supervisor's office. He wants a word before we check out the grounds.”

I got out and ran to the ornate porch, splashing through pot-holes and soaking my trousers. A guardswoman pointed at a door to the right.

“Dalrymple,” the guardian said curtly. He looked past me at Katharine. “Citizen Kirkwood.”

Katharine was as surprised as I was that he'd greeted her.

“Lewis.” I deliberately used his first name. That shocked the female supervisor at his side, who probably thought he answered to Jehovah. That was the effect I was after. It's always good to unsettle senior auxiliaries, especially those you're about to question. I craned forward and read the barracks number on her chest. “Adam 102.”

Hamilton turned to the supervisor. She was tall and skinny, her severe face making her look older than I reckoned she was. “I wanted Adam 102 to make clear how disturbing the disappearance of these three adolescents is.”

The auxiliary nodded. “Indeed, guardian. These three – one female and two males – are the outstanding intellects of their age group. It is essential that you find them, citizen.”

“Pity your security procedures weren't up to keeping them on campus,” I observed.

Adam 102 went on the defensive. “Security is the joint responsibility of the facility and the Cramond Barracks guard unit—” She broke off, remembering that the City Guard's commander-in-chief was standing next to her.

“Leave the security issue to me, supervisor,” Hamilton said testily. “It's clearly beyond your capabilities.”

I intervened. “So what you're saying, Adam 102, is that if someone – for whatever reason – wanted to deprive the Council of the three best young brains in the city, these were the ones to pick?”

The auxiliary nodded. “Lesley is already at post-graduate level in applied maths. Michael and Dougal have attained a wide-ranging knowledge of science and medicine. They are all on the Council's fast-track auxiliary training scheme.”

Lewis Hamilton caught my eye. “Dalrymple, I suggest your colleague talks to Adam 102 and her staff.” He glanced at Katharine nervously. Now I understood why he'd acknowledged her existence. Amazing. He'd finally understood that handing over people – even auxiliaries – to guard interrogators isn't the most effective way to gather information.

“Okay?” I asked Katharine.

She nodded.

“Everything you can find out about the kids, their backgrounds and their recent behaviour.”

“Right. What are you going to do, Quint?”

The guardian was anxious to reassert his authority. “We're going to find out how the inmates were spirited through the fence,” he said, giving the supervisor an acid glare. “And why the staff in this facility left them unattended.”

I had the feeling Adam 102 wasn't going to be in charge of the budding geniuses who were still in Edinburgh for long.

The rain had let off when we went outside, but the mist was still down. I sniffed the air. It was dank and redolent of dead leaves.

Davie pulled down his hood and pointed to the north. “The wire was cut over there. The scene-of-crime team is looking at the area now.” He moved off.