Everything to Lose Read online

  "Zoe we need to be on the ball in case Oliver contacts any of these students."

  "Yes sir we'll be ready if he pops up with any of them."

  "Good work everyone. Be vigilant and be safe. I feel that this backfire is starting to unravel. Cairn out."

  18

  Cosham, Hampshire

  The flat that Gavin and Zoe shared in Cosham was thirty minutes walk from the University campus. It was a well furnished two bed apartment with bathroom, living room and kitchen-dining room in a quiet residential area known as Reagal Close. Not more than five minutes walk from all the amenities of Cosham High Street.

  It was a comfortable flat with good size rooms that were done out in light pastel colours of which magnolia was the recurring scheme. Zoe had taken the largest bedroom with an en-suite toilet and shower.

  Gavin Shawlens let out a sigh of relief as he dropped his briefcase at his feet and closed the front door to the flat by leaning back against the door. In the living room Zoe had set her laptop to play Katie Melua's songs quietly in the background. Zoe thought she had a voice similar to Katie Melua so she sang along in a duet with Katie as countless thousands of other people do. Katie Melua wouldn't mind and it helped Zoe to unwind. 'Nine million bicycles' was the current duet.

  Gavin carried his briefcase to his bedroom then went to the kitchen and put on the kettle. He spooned coffee into one cup and was pouring the hot water into the cup when Zoe sat down at the kitchen table.

  "There are two people in this flat y'know."

  "What?" Gavin looked confused.

  "I'll have a coffee."

  "You didn't say."

  "YOU didn't ask."

  She pushed an empty cup in his direction and he made her a cup of coffee while she fetched milk from the fridge.

  "Sorry. By the way they've all got cars now."

  "Who?"

  "The nine million people in Beijing," Gavin said.

  "How did your research meeting go?"

  "Torture, they won't talk to me for some reason. I had to do all the talking. I had to drag a few words out of them."

  "My heart bleeds for you Shawlens. Really. Anything to report?"

  "I overheard a male technician saying he thought you were hot," he smiled at her.

  "Well I overheard a female student saying she thought you were gay."

  She smiled back and his smile disappeared.

  "Unfortunately that's been said before."

  "Any strong vibes in the Department?"

  "Nothing I can feel yet."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  She had told him to be on alert for negative vibes. She told him that anyone with something to hide would be worried about an outsider nosing around their patch. She told him to observe their tells. Then he would be able to spot when one of them was worried.

  "Yes I'm sure," he replied.

  "You must keep your eyes and ears sharp. When we start digging up the bones, you need to sense them coming, before they hit you. Do you understand?" she said business like.

  "I've done this before. I know how to play."

  She sighed loudly and took a large swallow of coffee. If he had been one of her troopers she would have told him abruptly she was not playing games. She decided a harsh word might put him in an even more uncooperative mood.

  "Before dinner I want you to describe everyone you met today, what they said, what you said and what you were feeling when you were talking to them."

  Shit he thought to himself she meant it when she said she wanted every detail. Zoe was smarter and more thorough than anyone he had worked with before.

  He had to creatively fill-in some of the gaps. He didn't tell her about a conversation he had with Tyler Wattsin when Tyler cornered him in the Library because he couldn't remember most of it. In fact the only main thing he did remember about Tyler was the powerful lingering body odour. It was strong enough to make Gavin shift to another part of the Library.

  She debriefed him and made notes on her laptop as he spoke. Making things up to fill gaps made him feel uncomfortable. He was a poor liar who couldn't remember his lies and was easily caught out. He decided he would listen more carefully and absorb more detail. He felt sure she would punch his lights out if he didn't do what he was told. That's why he started shaving and looking after his appearance the day after he started sharing with Zoe.

  He envied her fast typing. When he asked she told him she could type three hundred characters per minute which was about sixty words. He said he could only 'hunt and peck' about twenty words per minute. She told him the downside of special ops was long periods waiting for something to happen. Zoe always put the time to good use.

  When she was sure she had extracted every last detail that he could remember she finished preparing their dinner. She had cooked chicken breasts and covered them in a creamy wild mushroom & chicken sauce with white wine and a touch of chives. When the microwave fries were ten seconds away from the ding zing she called on him to pour out two glasses of bottled water.

  She had already used an apple corer to produce apple segments for afters. She bought an apple corer when she found out on the first day of their flat sharing that he didn't eat apples because he was too lazy to cut them into bite sizes. After dinner they sat down on the living room settee with a glass of Shiraz wine.

  He didn't thank her for the meal or compliment her how good it was. He took off his sweater and threw it over a chair. He plonked himself down and it seemed to her that he was going to sink his mind into his own little world as he had done for most of the nights since they started sharing the flat. Staring at the radio, or the TV, or the wall with a faraway look. She knew why and decided to tolerate it up to a point.

  "Why did you do that with your sweater?" she asked.

  "Sorry I'll put it to my room later."

  "No, why did you take it off that way?"

  "What way?"

  "You crossed your arms and grabbed the sides and lifted it over your head."

  "So?"

  "Men grab the neck and pull it over the heads."

  "I don't know. I've always done it that way."

  "I've never seen a male take a top off that way."

  "I have an older sister and she more or less brought me up. I hung out with her girly gang. We shared the same room and we talked a lot especially at night before we went to sleep so I probably do some things more like a girl. It's her fault," he said.

  "You don't come across as gay," she said playfully.

  "I'm not. I've got mates who were brought up by a single mother and I feel better connected to them than with other guys. We talk differently about things. Not like guys who just talk to exchange information. It's hard to explain but none of us are gay."

  "You learn something new every day."

  "Does that make me special?"

  "Different. Anyway do you have a handle on the CASTER report?" she wanted to get back on mission.

  "Yes."

  "Well then do we have a backfire in Sports Biology?"

  "I believe so."

  "Thank God this hasn't all been a waste of time."

  "I'm certain there's a backfire."

  "Good lad Shawlens. I'm very pleased with you. Quick and dirty version. What have these stupid buggers been up to?" she said as she topped up his glass of wine.

  At the Home Office briefing Gavin Shawlens had received a report from CASTER that outlined serious concerns about research published by Professor Buzzwall, Professor Kwan and Dr Griffan of the Department of Sports Biology. Gavin had reviewed their published research papers.

  Lambeth Group procedure for investigating a research project backfire in a university required the appointed expert to evaluate the CASTER findings. He told Zoe that Buzzwall's team started out trying to develop an ergogenic aid to increase athletic performance. They wanted a method to increase the release of energy for muscles.

  He explained that muscles receive energy from the molecule ATP. Buzzwall's logic was simple. More
ATP activity means more energy for muscles and better sports performance. Even a few percent more ATP energy could mean the difference between third place and first place in fast finish cycling and sprinting events.

  Buzzwall's research papers claimed they have used an energy boost to raise muscle output by eighteen percent. With an energy boost their athletes had completed a number of sprint and track time trials in much faster times. Gavin derided Buzzwall's claim that his energy boost provided an eighteen percent increase in muscle output and told Zoe the research papers were completely unrealistic.

  "So they exaggerate. Why is it a problem for us?"

  "Buzzwall's research involves studies on athletes. You can't do research on people in this country without obtaining ethics approval from a major health organisation such as the NHS. I have searched the University record of ethically approved research and their work in not there. Not only is it not approved they have never submitted an application for approval."

  "Okay so it's a little bit illegal. I'm still not seeing a backfire."

  "Jemard Edmond is dead. He was a contributor in early papers but not later ones. He participated in early cycling trials. Both the Department and Buzzwall are pretending Jemard is still alive. I think Buzzwall's research backfired and Jemard died because he discovered the research was faulty. We just need some evidence to link them."

  "Okay I buy that. How does Oliver Mansole fit into the picture?"

  "Oliver Mansole was one of Buzzwall's technicians. In pole position to discover any flaws in the research. I think he discovered the faulty research and he's dead too."

  "I have the picture now. Anything else?"

  "Of course. There is a large hole in their research," he enthused.

  "Oh really."

  "They say nothing in their papers about the energy boost. How it supplies more energy to muscles. You can't suddenly become a biochemistry expert with no training, no equipment, then discover a new biochemical process to increase energy for muscles."

  "They're not biochemists so they've no right to discover a new biochemical process," she sounded contrite.

  "I'm not saying that. I'm not. It's like, I couldn't walk in to the SAS barracks tomorrow and say right guys I'm leading the next mission to Afghanistan. I would need physical training, equipment training and survival training to get me ready."

  "And a miracle but point taken," she smiled.

  "Buzzwall and his team have no biochemistry training in energy research, nor do they have the right equipment for energy studies. I've checked their labs and spoken to a few of the researchers. They don't know anything about biochemistry. So how did they get their discovery. This is one of my main concerns."

  "Silent partner maybe?"

  "There is no mention in any of the research papers of collaborators, joint projects or anything that might suggest a partner."

  "Maybe they prefer total anonymity. It's not unusual," she said.

  "If another party gave Buzzwall a set of results and he published them under his own name then that's fraud. More important is why they want to hide."

  "So their research is surrounded by secrecy. So what? It's the best way to protect intellectual property."

  "Research that comes out of a dark corner tends to stink. Previous disasters occurred because research was passed off as safe then when it backfired it was found to be based on unsafe methods, unqualified people, shortcuts or illegal procedures," he said.

  "Okay I hear you and in fact I agree with your assessment. Just making sure you were confident in your reasoning. You know what Alan Cairn is like."

  "I've seen some awful consequences of bad research. I'm not a biochemical snob. If they have a good discovery then the best way to get it accepted is full and frank disclosure."

  "Thanks for that Gavin. I needed a grip on the science."

  Zoe Tampin settled down to read. She was about two-thirds of the way through James Paterson's 'Kill Alex Cross'. She liked the Alex Cross books because she could always imagine Morgan Freeman as Alex Cross and in her mind she could hear Morgan Freeman's voice speaking for Alex Cross.

  While reading she was thinking it was good Shawlens had opened-up a bit. She was having good conversations with him and each time she gained a little more of what he was like as a person. She watched him retreat into his shell and could only guess what he was going through.

  The loss of Emma Patersun would haunt him forever. She knew not to try and snap him out too early. Alan Cairn had warned her not to try. She nearly fell into it over the coffee. She came to within a hair's breadth of telling him it was no surprise to her he was still single. She hoped this backfire might help him toward some semblance of a normal life or at least one that the Lambeth Group could work with.

  Before she returned all of her attention to her book she glanced at him and thought, if I'm honest and that happened to my sweetheart, I'd be in the boat with you Shawlens.

  19

  Cosham, Hampshire

  The flat was dark and quiet and it was past two a.m. when Gavin Shawlens woke from one of his nightmares. The gentle tapping of rain on the window told him what the weather was like outside. He went to bed around ten-thirty and left Zoe reading her book.

  For once he wasn't terrified and woke without an accompanying scream. He looked at the silhouette around the window curtains and saw it was still dark outside. Then he looked at the time on his bedside clock it was 02.14 a.m.

  Wearily he threw back the covers and dragged himself out of bed. He ran his hand through his hair blinked hard a few times to bring focus to his eyes. He had that odd night-time feeling of not really needing to pee but feeling that if he didn't go he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.

  Still half asleep he dragged his feet as he walked through the living room. He saw Zoe Tampin on the settee sitting in darkness. Her head bend down, her knees pulled up to her chin, her arms around her legs.

  "Go back to sleep Shawlens," she said and he heard emotional strain in her voice.

  He padded over to the armchair opposite her, sat down and switched on the table lamp. She covered her eyes from the light but he saw water tracks down her cheeks. The room had cooled and he felt the coldness in the air. He felt the cold leather on the armchair through his pyjama bottoms.

  "Go back to bed," she pleaded and it seemed to him her voice was about to break.

  "What's happened?"

  "It's nothing to do with you or this job. Please go back to bed."

  He got up onto his feet and went to the bathroom. When he left the bathroom he went to his room and fetched a tartan throw. He put it over her shoulders and said.

  "Nothing is never nothing. We're a team."

  Slowly she moved her hands from her eyes. They were red from crying and she had used a hand towel to wipe the tears. The rough cotton irritated her eyes. He stood confused and stared at the floor. He tried to think of something funny to cheer her up but couldn't think of anything. He eased down into the cold armchair.

  "Tell me what's happened, please Zoe."

  "It's just one of my lads from the Regiment. Martin, he's dead."

  "I'm sorry. How did it happen?"

  "He hanged himself last night."

  "Was he still serving?"

  "No he came out seven months ago. I knew he wasn't coping. I saw the zone."

  "The zone?"

  "The dead zone behind the eyes."

  "Isn't there supposed to be help available for ex-soldiers?"

  Zoe told Gavin that Martin was just one of thousands of homeless ex-service people. Brave people homeless because the same politicians so keen to open the door to harm's way are so adamant about closing the door when help is needed to get back into Civvy street.

  "He got support from the charities. They're overstretched and he felt guilty adding to their burden. These brave souls are discarded like spent shells so it's not surprising some of them become suicidal."

  "Why was he homeless?"

  "Ex-service have less priori
ty than asylum seekers for housing in this country. If it's possible to make housing available to asylum seekers it should be possible to make it available to ex-soldiers," she demanded.

  "That is so unfair," he said.

  "Service doesn't pay well so junior ranks can't afford to buy. Service overseas means that you can't register on a local authority list for council accommodation. Thousands are sleeping rough and if you don't have a house it's difficult to get a job. You have to turn to charities and despite their genuine best help you feel you are denying others."

  "That's a wrong that needs to be righted."

  "People don't know that when you come out of the Service you leave your comrades behind. Many land on Civvy Street with few friends or a social network to help with a job. Martin started as a seventeen-year-old kid and came out fourteen years later with only an Army life experience. It's like he'd been in jail for too long and didn't know how to slot back into society. Martin just couldn't get grounded."

  "How did you find out?"

  "He sent me a text; Goodbye boss thanks for everything. I alerted the police and they found him dead."

  "How do you feel about that?"

  He meant how she felt about politicians pushing him into harm's way then falling short when he needed their help.

  "I trained him to deal with discipline, combat, teamwork and survival. Together we scorched our fingertips on the same blazing hot sands. I taught him how to kill a man in seconds. I didn't see this taking him down. I didn't prepare him well enough."

  "Was he suffering from post-traumatic stress?"

  "Dealing with the horror is hard. It's difficult to get the images out of your head. Both of us tried to save a soldier who lost his legs to an IED. The training to deal with flashbacks does help. It did help me."

  "Don't the veteran's charities help with post-traumatic stress?"

  "He refused to go back."

  "Why?" Gavin sounded confused.

  "My fault. I drilled him to have pride in his country, his regiment, his unit, his mates, his appearance and his service. Then when he needed help he couldn't ask because he was too proud."