Everything to Lose Read online

  Rachel was twenty-one, fresh-faced and lightly freckled with shoulder length auburn hair tied back in a high ponytail. She wore a blue tracksuit with a netball logo top over a white polo tee shirt. She had a big smile full of attractive teeth that had been shaped by a skilled orthodontist.

  "Thanks Rachel."

  Gavin leaned forward and looked at the woman sitting next to Rachel.

  "Laraine E McSwann, mature student, obviously. My project is library-based and is on the critical importance of sport in a developing society. I'm a health and lifestyle coach. I specialise in organic massage, Thai herbal and thermal basalt," she said and the strain in her voice suggested she felt self-conscious.

  "That's fine Laraine."

  Laraine was thirty-four and a petite five foot four natural blonde. She was thin-faced with a slight build. Her tight-fitting clothes made her look even thinner, almost anorexic. She fidgeted impatiently with her pencil. Her six-year old daughter was off school with a cold and her neighbour agreed to look after her for an hour and that was two hours ago.

  "Ronnie O DaSilvon. I'm boxing, light welterweight, man. Aiming for middleweight by next spring. I'm welterweight ABA elite champion y'know. My project's on protein nutrition and I hear you're a biochemical expert so I'll be calling round for some guidance on my proteins," he said and offered his clenched fist for Shawlens to fist bump.

  Ronnie was twenty-two, born in London and his Brazilian parents still live in Bayswater, London. An area more popularly known as Brazilwater. Gavin guessed that Ronnie would be at least six feet three inches tall and not someone you would want to get on the wrong side of so he dutifully completed the fist bump.

  "Tyler B Wattsin. My project aint going like, it's stuck. Totally like, is he right? You're a biochemical dude."

  Gavin acknowledged with a nod and a smile.

  "Cool!" Tyler enthused.

  Tyler was twenty-nine, five feet five with shoulder length, untidy and dark greasy hair. Overweight with a prominent round face underlined by a double chin and matched with puffy sausage-like fingers. He filled out a dark blue 1980's style fashion shell suit that was grubby and stained.

  "Thanks ..., erm ..., Tyler. Tyler Wattsin for some reason you're not on this tutorial list," Gavin said looking at the tutorial group printout he'd been given.

  "Yeah I'm like, really stressed bout it man. Your registry people are incom.., incomptat.., incompatatent. Keep messin me about. All fees owed are like paid, honest man, it's like, totally done," Tyler explained.

  "Okay sometimes the finance office forgets to update the registry office. No problem."

  "Cool, man you're like, okay."

  Tyler didn't explain that in the previous academic year his registration had been suspended by the University when a criminal records office check disclosed convictions that would not allow him to work with young or vulnerable people.

  He failed the one exam he took and his registration had lapsed. He was a non-student in the system and he refused to take the hint and go away. He'd gain entrance through a special access programme for mature disadvantaged people and failed to take advantage of the opportunity.

  "I'ss Francis A Ottobondi, track an' feel'd. Takes a good look at ma face, man. Am gonna be de woomen Usain Bolt. I gonna take de woomens 'undred meetres well below tin-point-three secunds at de next worrld champs. Ma project is totalee worrkin with de energy man. Y'know de reel fast energy for de sprinter folk, dat creatine phosphatty stuff an ..."

  "Thanks Francis," Gavin cut-in.

  He could see she was firing up to offload a barrel-load of issues. Francis was twenty-two from Peckham, London. She was very muscular with powerful looking arms. Gavin guessed she would have matching legs.

  Her hair was braided and tied at the back she had high cheekbones and piercing eyes with light purple eye shadow to match her purple nail polish and purple lipstick. Her outer sports leisure clothes were bright yellow and green.

  "As you know your general exam paper is designed to allow you to express and interpret ideas, concepts and knowledge that you have gained over the past two years. So over the next ten weeks we'll explore some topics to help you evaluate, criticise and analyse issues. Any questions?"

  Francis watched Gavin as he extracted some sheets of paper from a folder and began to sort them into order.

  "Are ya givvin us coursework, man? Weez all reelly up to us eyes wit essays, an' signmints, an' raports, an' all dat stuff fore we even tink about us studies. They aint no more time in a day, man. I ass to do most ugh ma trainin in ma dreams. You ear whut am sayin, man?" Francis said.

  "Francis I hear you loud and clear. I only have one assignment. I'm giving you each a separate question I want you to write a three thousand word essay that addresses the issue raised by the question," Gavin explained as he handed each one a separate sheet of paper.

  "Each week one of you will give a ten minute presentation to introduce your topic before we all discuss the topic. Marking will be split eighty percent for the written report and twenty percent for the presentation. Deadline for written assignments is five weeks from today. Any questions?"

  "Whaaat. No way, man, I'm like, really really busy. I can't do nothing like, in five weeks, no way. I'm allowed extensions like, for my illness. I'm like, incarper .., incasper .., in-car-paccer-a-tated with this tunnelling dyslexia thingy, man," Tyler said.

  "Five weeks is the deadline and if it's not submitted, you'll get a zero mark."

  Each student took a huge intake of breath and looks of shock marked their faces as their brains registered what he said.

  16

  Department of Sports Biology

  The look of shock on their faces was something Gavin had never experienced with his own students at Kinmalcolm. Shocked expressions turned to rebellious looks.

  "Woh, man, I don't think you're allowed to give the zero mark. It aint allowed here, man. Maybe your Uni but not here man, no zeros," Ronnie said and the others agreed.

  "I don like thees question, man. I gonna do some tin on effects of de lactate on ma muscle instead, man. Are you cool wit tat?" Francis said as she handed the sheet of paper back to Gavin.

  "Why lactate?" Gavin asked.

  The room fell silent and Gavin observed their eyes shifting around the table while Francis tried to think of a convincing reason.

  "Fran. He isn't going to let you do that is he?" Laraine said with a frown directed at Francis.

  "Man! I dun see why nut," she blasted back.

  "It wouldn't be fair on the rest of us would it? Fran is repeating this year and did lactate last year," Laraine said turning to speak to Gavin.

  "So what Larrrraine!" Fran blasted.

  "Nothing on last year's list is acceptable. Do you have another topic Francis? One that's not on last year's list."

  Francis shook her head with loud tuts and air gasps as she retrieved her sheet. Gavin Shawlens handed out another sheet of paper.

  "Okay let's have a discussion. I want you to read this one page newspaper article on Lance Armstrong and ethics in sport. I'll give you a few minutes then we'll discuss the issues. I'll help develop a discussion so listen and learn," Gavin said and scanned their faces to make sure they would participate.

  Gavin outlined the background to champion cyclist Lance Armstrong, seven-time winner of the Tour de France and the issues raised by the US Anti-Doping Agency. It was a good choice as each of the students had strong opinions and the arguments rolled on without much need for Gavin to intervene. At the end of the tutorial they agreed to disagree. They were content they had taken part in a robust and thoughtful discussion.

  "Okay our time is up. Before you rush off does anyone know the technician Oliver Mansole?"

  No-one replied but Gavin could tell from their expressions they knew who he was talking about.

  "If anyone sees Oliver can you pass on a message from me? Tell him I need to speak to him about some new research work. Thanks."

  At the end of the period Laraine hur
ried out of the room and called her babysitter to apologise for taking so long. Francis and Rachel compared their allocated topics to see if one would be easier that the other as they walked out of the room. Tyler hung back and made his way around the table to stand beside Gavin

  "I'm into the biochemicals. I could do a project on like, steroids. You can supervise me," Tyler said.

  "I'm not doing any projects. Ask someone from the Department."

  "They're like, useless they know nothing."

  "Sorry I don't have time to supervise a project."

  "No man you don't like, do anything. A technician does my lab things for me."

  "Do you know the technicians well?"

  "Man, they're my brothers and sisters. They pull for me, man," Tyler said proudly.

  "Do you know Oliver Mansole?"

  "Sure like, Olly's my man like, a good mate."

  "How can I contact him?"

  "Well like, that depends," Tyler said as he watched a technician in a white lab coat sliding out of a column of moving students and stop behind Gavin Shawlens.

  Tyler looked at the name Christine Willsening on her ID badge, smiled at her. Licked his lips then hurried along the corridor to catch up with his mates. She placed her hand heavily on Gavin's shoulder and he turned around.

  "Hi, erm ..., Zo um ...," he mumbled and looked confused.

  His mind was a million miles away. She glared daggers at him.

  "Ah okay, right. Hi Christine," he uttered after some anxious seconds.

  Zoe Tampin leaned very close to him and told him to look at his SEM phone. The whole screen flashed bright red. The team had received a RED FLASH emergency meeting at a pre-designated location.

  "Didn't you feel the vibration?"

  "What vibration? Oh that's switched off. It's a nuisance when …"

  "Get it switched on."

  "What's the panic?"

  "Listen Shawlens if you ever get my name mixed up again. I'll kick your balls so bloody hard, sperm will squirt out your ears," she said as she pushed his arm forward to walk in front of her like a scolded child.

  ***

  Tyler Wattsin left his mates and found a quiet corner to make a mobile phone call to the Old Bards Club. He thought about going over to the busy pub and restaurant, which was well known for top class food and entertainment but decided, it would be better to call. The Old Bards Club was a members-only club with a two-year waiting list for new members and Tyler Wattsin was most definitely not a member. It was owned and run by a powerful and respected clan known as the McVickin family.

  "I need to speak to Mrs McVickin," Tyler pleaded.

  "Piss off Tyler she's busy," Jamie McVickin replied.

  "No, look, like, this is stuff she asked me to like, nose around. I've got like, good stuff."

  "What have you got?"

  "High grade like, serious but I'm only sharing it with Mrs McVickin."

  "I'm warning you Tyler. If you're selling useless crap; I'll give you a slap myself."

  Jamie McVickin transferred Tyler's call from the impressive Club reception desk to an adjacent old abattoir building that Lisa had converted into a hi-tech production factory. Lisa's workers scattered as she stormed towards the factory office to take the call. She was angry she had been disturbed.

  "Tyler you're keeping me from my business. This better be bloody useful or that lump I put on the side of your head will get a twin on the other side."

  "There's a new guy started at the Uni. He knows like, Oliver Mansole."

  "He knows where Oliver is hiding?"

  "I'm like, sure he knows."

  "What's his name?"

  "Dr Shawlens."

  "Okay Tyler. Find out where he lives then drop by the factory entrance for your usual reward."

  Lisa McVickin returned to the main hall in the factory to finish off her business. In a moment of madness, the factory Manager had overstepped his mark and needed to be punished. As was her way she delivered the punishment violently by her own hand, accompanied by ranting verbal abuse, in front of everyone in the factory.

  The Manager had intervened to stop Lisa's brother Sidney McVickin from killing a female factory worker in a frenzied sex attack. Lisa resumed her beating of the Manager. She was determined to make sure the Manager would never again interfere with her brother no matter what he was doing.

  17

  Portsmouth

  The pre-designated rendezvous place for a RED FLASH meeting was the north corner in the Cascades car park, Charlotte Street, Portsmouth. Toni met and introduced herself to Rolley and Elaine then led them into the back of a large van. She told them that she and Scott were tech support. Scott worked on the communications equipment to link up with Alan Cairn in London while Toni poured cups of coffee for Rolley and Elaine.

  Scott sat at a short desk in front of a twenty-six inch flat screen with integrated camera embedded on the screen. He lifted his earphones off his ears and looked up briefly to say hello to Rolley and Elaine. He typed while he spoke to a technician at the other end of the link to confirm settings and security protocols.

  Gavin and Zoe were the last members of the team to arrive in the car park. It was four o'clock in the afternoon and the park was almost empty as the shoppers had made their way home. Zoe parked beside the large black van. Inside Scott, Toni, Elaine and Rolley waited and drank coffee.

  Zoe introduced Gavin to Scott and Toni then praised Rolley and Elaine for their quick reaction to the RED FLASH. Zoe told Scott to open the link and he typed in a command to connect with a Home Office communications room. He switched the module from headphones to loudspeaker and Zoe sat down at the desk.

  Alan Cairn stood in the Home Office room talking with two others. When told the SLIPFIRE team were on he sat down in front of a screen with integrated microphone/camera.

  "Afternoon sir, SLIPFIRE team all present and correct."

  "Good Zoe. There's been a development," Alan said as he signalled to someone nearby who started typing into a keyboard.

  The picture from the Home Office split into two, showing Alan on top. On the bottom a white plastic tray containing a human hand.

  "This is Jemard P Edmond's left hand," Alan said.

  "Oh my God," roared Rolley as he looked away.

  "It was identified through his DNA, which is on record from his sports drug tests. It was found just outside Folkestone ten days ago. No other body parts have been found despite an extensive search."

  "How long has he been dead?" Zoe asked.

  "Home Office pathologist says more than four weeks. Jemard has been officially off campus for six weeks."

  "Maybe he's still alive," Gavin said.

  "Pathologist says damage to specialised cells and nerves was not sudden. Death occurred while the hand was attached to the body," Alan explained.

  "Where was it found?" Zoe asked.

  "It was found on a fly-tipping site when council workers turned up to clear the site. The last time they cleared that site was three months ago."

  "Could this be some kind of freak accident?" Elaine asked.

  "I don't buy that. We know Jemard was involved in Buzzwall's research. Now we know he's been dead for some time. Yet someone is going to the trouble of making it appear he's still alive. Why?" Alan replied.

  "He might have discovered something and was killed to shut him up. Maybe Oliver Mansole found out the same and that's why he's missing," Zoe said.

  "I know I'm new to this type of thing but I don't see the purpose in making it appear he's still alive," Rolley said.

  "Good point Rolley," Zoe said.

  "Buzzwall is lying or being lied to about Jemard. Why is a good question? We need to dig deeper. Look at Buzzwall's associates."

  "Roger that sir. I'll develop a strategy."

  "Alan can you ask your tech to display the hand palm face up," Gavin asked.

  Alan nodded to the tech seated nearby and within a minute a picture of the hand was displayed on the whole screen.

 
"What is it?" Alan asked.

  "What did the pathologist say about the cause of death?" Gavin asked.

  "Inconclusive at this point. Why?"

  "I'm looking at the cut end. It's not uniform like a decapitation. At first I thought it was burnt but there is no sign of burning on the palm or fingers. These uneven ends like rows of tailcoats. I can't figure out what kind of trauma would leave such ends on a hand."

  "Thanks for that Gavin I'll get right back to the pathologist and give him a piece of my mind," Alan said.

  "I wouldn't do that ...," Gavin started.

  Zoe grabbed Gavin's wrist in a vice grip. When their eyes met he saw an expression that said don't you dare!

  Earlier in the day Zoe was refused entry to the University staff car park and Gavin said he would give a car park janitor a piece of his mind. She told Gavin not to do it because soon he wouldn't have much of it left.

  "Why not?" Alan fired back.

  "Nothing. Pathologists and dead bodies. I think they're all weird," Gavin said.

  "Any progress on finding Oliver Mansole?"

  "Well sir we're still ...," Zoe started.

  "Yes I have."

  Zoe gave Gavin one of her looks that was enough to tell a soldier to shut up, look straight ahead and stand to attention.

  "Some students I have to tutor know him very well. I've asked them to tell him I want to speak to him."

  "What context?" Zoe blasted at him.

  She was annoyed he had not told her. She knew he had just finished a tutorial with some students but he could have told her as they drove to the meeting. He was being childish because she told him off over the name mix-up. Bastard Shawlens. If you were one of my men I'd tan your backside for this she thought.

  "I told them it's about a new research project," Gavin said and saw infuriation in her eyes.

  "Gavin you must give the names of these students to Zoe and Elaine so we can run backgrounds."