Murder Club Read online

  TRACES

  Murder Club

  The Seventh Case

  By Malcolm Rose

  Text copyright © Malcolm Rose 2013

  Cover design by Colin Rose

  Welcome to the world of Traces. Imagine a place where technology rules, where London is a slum and the North is a cultural capital, where from the age of five The Authorities decide your future. In this fascinating parallel world, quick-thinking Luke Harding and his robot sidekick, Malc, make a top forensic team. Luke and Malc have the talent to crack any crime – and a good joke too.

  Forensic Investigator Luke Harding has left York Hospital after surgery on his damaged brain. Before he’s fully fit, he’s given a new case – and a new Mobile Aid to Law and Crime. It’s not a difficult investigation. He soon learns who strangled Kiki Smallpiece, a young and controversial worker for The Authorities. But why was she killed? Was the murderer really responsible when his fingers tightened around her neck? If he wasn’t, who was really behind her death? Has her fate got anything to do with The Authorities? And why has Luke been told to investigate when he’s still suffering the after-effects of surgery?

  There’s another question on Luke’s mind. Will The Authorities finally allow him to be paired with his girlfriend, Jade Vernon?

  Of the Traces series, Jan Mark wrote in The Times Educational Supplement, ‘This is fast-moving storytelling in the true thriller tradition, with enough subtext to leave a perceptive reader thinking.’

  Also available:

  Traces 1: FRAMED!

  Traces 2: LOST BULLET

  Traces 3: ROLL CALL

  Traces 4: DOUBLE CHECK

  Traces 5: FINAL LAP

  Traces 6: BLOOD BROTHER

  Chapter One

  Abruptly, Toby Thorogood sat bolt upright in bed. He lifted the duvet and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. His bare feet did not make a sound on the soft carpet. The only light came from an outside lamp that made the curtain glow faintly and the amber display of the bedside clock. 02:37. Toby took his dressing gown from its hook on the wall and pulled it around him as he walked slowly away. The bedroom door sensed his approach and slid aside almost silently.

  In the kitchen, the chilly floor tiles stung the soles of his bare feet. Ignoring the feeling, Toby grasped the handle of the fridge and pulled. The door did not budge. The small padlock kept him out. He squatted beside the cupboard that contained the kitchen tools but it too was securely fastened. He yanked twice on the doorknob and then, not having the key, he gave up.

  Muttering to himself, he picked up his identity card and made for the front door. Normally, it was locked but tonight it opened as he pressed his card against the reader. Outside, the passageway was lit dimly by night lights built into the exterior wall at ankle height. The balcony walkway around Spa Mill Apartments was empty apart from the vases containing small ornamental shrubs. Shivering, Toby padded past the pot plants, his feet picking up dust from the cold concrete floor.

  Sunrise was hours away but it wasn’t a night for stargazing. Behind the clouds, even the moon barely made an impression on the gloomy sky. The park, River Croal and the pond were lost in darkness. Beyond them, the light from Bolton Health and Fitness Centre was scattered by the mist. Toby did not pay any attention to the view. He didn’t hesitate. His eyes were fixed ahead.

  At the end of the passage, he went up a flight of steps and then walked dreamily back in the direction that he’d come. He came to a halt outside an apartment that was almost directly above his own. He turned stiffly so that he was staring straight at the door. He swiped his identity card against the electronic sensor but the mechanism did not respond. It was someone else’s home.

  He shuffled his feet until he was facing the nearest pot plant. A strange look came to his face. It wasn’t a smile but it suggested he’d figured something out. He’d come to a decision. Walking calmly up to the neatly shaped shrub, he grasped the sturdy stake that was holding it in place. With a jerk, he pulled the metal spike from the soil. Outside the apartment again, he forced the stake between the door and plastic frame. He heaved on it as if he were using a crowbar. He prised the door open and jammed the fingers of his left hand into the gap. Bending at the knees, he placed the spike quietly on the floor. Then he tugged on the door with both hands until there was enough of an opening for him to squeeze sideways into the apartment.

  It was almost totally black inside but Toby could make out everything he needed to see. He went directly towards the bedroom at the same unhurried pace. Detecting his movement, the door sprang back, revealing a simple room with a single bed. There was a faint light on the bedside cabinet and a young woman was breathing deeply in her sleep. Toby walked up to her and, for a few seconds, gazed down at her. Under a heavy blanket, her sheet was pulled up over her shoulders, revealing only her soft neck and untroubled face.

  He walked right around the bed, pausing only to tuck in the sheet tightly where it was slack. He did it gently so that he didn’t disturb her. Then he reached down, wrapped his fingers and thumbs firmly around her throat, and squeezed with all his strength.

  At once, she woke up. Startled. Realizing that she was being strangled, her eyes opened wide in panic. They bulged grotesquely white and her face, deprived of oxygen, quickly turned blue. She tried to thrash out with her arms and legs but the tight bedding stopped her putting up a fight. To make sure she was helpless, Toby pressed down heavily on her shoulders with his forearms as he throttled her. She attempted to utter something – to scream – but the extreme pressure on her throat silenced her voice.

  Toby did not make a sound. He didn’t flinch. And there was no emotion on his face as he stared at his victim.

  Red flecks appeared on her cheeks and eyes as the capillary vessels in her skin burst. A little blood trickled from her nose and left ear. Her tongue, tinged blue, poked out of her gaping mouth.

  When her body went limp, Toby let go, turned round and sedately retraced his steps.

  ****

  As soon as Toby entered his own apartment, his partner switched the light on. Freshly awake, Paige looked confused. “Toby. What are you doing?”

  He didn’t reply. Virtually ignoring her, he headed for the bedroom.

  Paige put an arm around his waist as if he needed to be guided back to bed. She sighed heavily. “We must have forgotten to program the front door last night. It let you out.” She shook her head. “I don’t know where you’ve been – and what you’ve been up to.” She didn’t seem to expect a reply.

  She watched her partner take off his dressing gown and clamber back into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes closed. She let out a long breath and muttered, “What am I going to do with you, Toby?”

  Chapter Two

  In the spotlessly clean clinic, the masked specialist took a deep breath and inserted her gloved hands carefully into her patient. She adjusted the position of her slender fingers until she could grip the delicate part without damaging it. A little sweat ran unpleasantly down her back as she began to lift it gently out of its casing.

  She never enjoyed working on what was, in effect, the brain. She didn’t mind doing the high-level analytical tests on it while it was still in place but she hated exposing it because any handling slips could do more harm than the damage she was trying to identify and repair. After all, it contained a huge number of intricate connections between its various zones. Carefully, she put the unit down on the cushioned work surface.

  She’d run every diagnostic program on the Mobile Aid to Law and Crime’s central processing unit and found no errors. At the end of the machine’s last case, though, it had received a final instruction from Forensic Investigator Luke Harding to deliver a message to someone called Jade Vernon, so it was entirely appr
opriate for the robot to try to complete the task even after the FI had been seriously injured. What she didn’t understand was why the mobile hadn’t aborted the job when The Authorities told it to do so. It was true that the machine had taken a hit in an explosion but that wasn’t the cause. There wasn’t enough physical damage to stop it functioning normally. The answer had to lie in its decision-making circuitry, in its brain.

  All mobile aids to law and crime started out with the same component parts. In reality, though, there would be tiny variations. When different suppliers made parts that were supposed to be identical, they would sometimes have slightly different specifications which would affect performance.

  Each mobile was also loaded with the same programming, but it evolved with use. Every machine was required to delete any faults, exploit any changes for the better, update itself, and adapt itself to its FI’s way of working. That’s why every mobile was individual. FI Harding’s machine seemed to have developed a glitch in the processor that worked out its priorities. Strangely, the mobile had neither reported nor removed the malfunction. Perhaps its programming had mistaken the error for an improvement.

  The computer specialist delved into the machine’s central processing unit. Her orders were to find the fault, repair it, and restore the mobile to its original state. The job description required her to delete its operating system and reload the software from scratch, making it as good as new. Then it could make a fresh start with FI Harding if he survived, or with another forensic investigator if he didn’t.

  At least the mobile was in a better state of health than its FI. She’d been told that Luke Harding was in York Hospital with cancer in his head. The machine wasn’t the only one with a brain problem.

  ****

  The doctor nodded. “Yes, you’re free to go.”

  “Just like that?” Luke asked.

  “Well, you haven’t had surgery. Not in the conventional sense. There’s no wound to heal, no possible infection. Your scan says you’re free of cancer.” He smiled before adding, “The only visible sign of the therapy is a dodgy haircut and that doesn’t warrant a hospital bed.”

  Luke’s brain tumour had been blasted with ultrasound. The experimental procedure had required most of the left-hand side of his head to be shaved. That was all. No scalpels, no drills, no hole and no blood. Just an ultrasonic probe positioned carefully against his scalp. Outwardly, he was left with comical, lopsided hair. Inwardly, he had an altered, healthy brain with a side-effect that he would have to learn to manage.

  “We’ve informed The Authorities, so I dare say they’ll soon have you chasing bad guys again.”

  “Where’s Malc, though?”

  It was Jade, Luke’s forbidden girlfriend, who answered. “He got damaged. They took him away for repair.”

  Luke’s face creased. “Did he...?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” He wanted to ask Jade a question but not when someone else was listening.

  Jade seemed to realize what was on his mind, nodded and changed the subject. “I can look after you till The Authorities get you sorted out.”

  “That would be good,” the doctor said. Facing Luke again, he explained, “You might feel a little disorientated at first. On top of that, you’ve got a badly bruised left leg, quite a few abrasions and a nasty gash in your right side. You’ll need a nurse to change the dressing in a day or two – and to check for infection – but you’re nicely on the mend. The hospital’s finished with you. I’ll leave you to it.”

  The doctor made Luke think of yellow. A warm comforting colour. “Thank you,” he said. As soon as the door closed, he gazed at Jade. “So, Malc didn’t deliver my message?”

  Jade shook her head. “He got zapped by The Authorities before he could spit it out. They said he was malfunctioning.”

  “A bit like me. Zapped in the head because I was malfunctioning.”

  “Yeah,” Jade replied.

  “I suppose you want to know what the message was.”

  She hesitated and then said, “Not really.”

  “Oh.”

  She let out a little laugh. “Are you disappointed or relieved?”

  He shrugged.

  “Maybe you’re relieved because you’ve forgotten it.”

  Straightaway, Luke shook his head. “No. I might not be word perfect but...”

  “The thing is,” said Jade, “I know what it was.”

  “How come?”

  “You were in danger. What would you want to say to me if you thought you were going to die?”

  “Well?” he prompted.

  “You wanted me to know that you love me, that you want to spend your life with me.”

  Luke took a deep breath. “You’ve always been able to see straight through me.”

  “If only. To turn all literal like Malc, I would’ve spotted that tumour ages ago.”

  Luke smiled at his girlfriend. “You’re red and you taste really nice, like pomegranates.”

  Jade took his arm and said, “Come on. Let’s get you out of here before they cart you off to a different ward and lock you up for ever.”

  ****

  When young people reached The Time – twenty years of age – a Pairing Committee formed couples according to the rules laid down by The Authorities. Women and men were paired on the basis of career, age, intelligence and genetics. A musician like Jade Vernon would be paired with an artist to produce artistically talented offspring. A forensic investigator like Luke Harding would be hitched with a scientist. According to those rules, he would not be paired with Jade.

  There was a slender hope. In a previous case, Luke had uncovered wrongdoing by The Authorities. He’d offered to drop the case and keep quiet in return for being paired with Jade. He could still remember the reply. “If an investigator were paired with a musician, it would undermine our traditions and our principles. If it became known – and it couldn’t be kept secret – the floodgates would open. Our way of life would be threatened. So, we refuse your request. Even so,” the voice of The Authorities had told him, “we’ll look again at the definition of Jade Vernon’s job. I understand you regard her as an assistant forensic investigator. If there’s continuing evidence that – alongside her music – she supports your investigations, there may be some flexibility. We make no promises, but, in time, it may become appropriate to reclassify her as an occasional scientist. If that were the case, her pairing situation might be reconsidered.”

  Now, the words brought a syrupy sensation to Luke’s mind. They seemed overwhelmingly purple.

  ****

  Luke regarded the Mobile Aid to Law and Crime, hovering in front of him in Jade’s apartment, presenting itself for active service.

  “You’re not Malc,” Luke declared.

  “I am the same machine with fifty-four updated components, a new operating system and an undamaged outer shell.”

  “Your voice is too posh.”

  “I have one hundred and seventeen different voices. That is many more than your original Mobile Aid to Law and Crime. I can help you to make a choice that pleases you.”

  To Luke, this mobile was cold and blue. “Is my name Jade Vernon?” he asked it.

  “Negative.”

  “That proves my point. Ages ago, I told my Malc to say no instead of that stupid negative.”

  “Do you wish me to adopt that format?”

  “Negative. I want my old Malc back.”

  “That is not possible. The faulty control software has been overwritten.”

  Luke thought for a moment and then smiled. “You’d be surprised what’s possible. Do you remember Sadie Kershaw?”

  The mobile hesitated for two seconds to retrieve a memory. “She is a computer technician, working in the Registry Department at Derby. She was a witness in your fourth case, and very nearly a victim. She also forged identity cards but you obtained a pardon for this crime so she was not prosecuted.”

  “At least you’ve got Malc’s memories. What els
e did she do?”

  “She downloaded and archived my software at the time.”

  Luke nodded. “Exactly. If she’s still got a copy...”

  “Please conclude your sentence.”

  “I think we’ll visit her. That’s the way to get my Malc back.”

  “My current operating system is superior.”

  “Not to me, it isn’t. I’m going to overwrite it with Malc’s. Get me a connection to Sadie Kershaw.”

  After a minute, Luke’s new mobile transmitted Sadie’s image onto the telescreen that occupied a large part of the wall opposite Luke. She was a few years older than Luke and, as always, she was sitting in front of her computer in Derby.

  “Oh. Hello again,” she said, smiling at Luke. In reality, she was seeing him on her monitor.

  “Keeping out of trouble?” Luke asked with a grin.

  She nodded at the FI who had saved her from prosecution and almost certainly saved her life. “What can I do for you?”

  “You kept a backup of my mobile’s software. The whole lot.”

  “Yes.”

  “I need it again. Have you still got it?”

  “No,” she answered. “It took up too much space. I deleted it.”

  Luke was not prepared to give up at the first obstacle. “Come on. You’re fantastic with computers. Pressing the delete button doesn’t delete anything. It just removes all the files from its list of contents.”

  “True.”

  “So, you can retrieve it. You can bring my Malc back from the dead.”

  Sadie hesitated. “There’s a chance. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Great. I’m on my way.”

  But Luke did not get as far as Derby. To take up his next case, he had to divert the electric cab to Bolton.

  Chapter Three

  Luke took one look at the bruising on the front and sides of Kiki Smallpiece’s neck and said, “She’s been strangled.”