Tedd and Todd's secret (15 page)

Lance Norwood went quiet suddenly. It wasn't just that he didn't want to speak, he didn't want to listen either. He needed to disconnect for a while and get a grip on the strange feeling that had invaded him. When he was in the middle of the fiery conversation that he'd just been part of, some part of his brain had been trying to imagine what a casual spectator would make of everything if he'd been listening to the goings on, especially since Carol's arrival. The observer would have concluded, Lance figured, that they were mad and called for an ambulance and had them committed. There was no way they could be sane, talking the way they had.

The theories that they'd been thrashing out had veered so far away from logic that Lance couldn't understand why they hadn't been discounted. He would never have thought that he could take part in a conversation like that without using the artillery of jokes stored away in the filing cabinet of his mind. Nevertheless, he had, and now he couldn't deny the conclusions they'd come to.

While he'd been waiting for Carol they'd checked out the disappearance of Earl Black on several sports websites. When it was clear that the times coincided, the subject of teletransportation began to dominate the conversation. They also considered clones with the same first name and surname, simulating instant changes of location. But accepting that possibility only created more puzzles and more questions without answers. How had the goalkeeper disappeared? How had Earl Black finished up in the ladies'? Lance's tortured mind opted for the easy choice of teletransportation as being the only possible explanation. But believing that posed one big question. How was it possible?

On the one hand, there was the recurring and passionate theme of the clones. Carol, excited and incredulous, had confirmed the dead body as being identical to Earl Black. They spent a long time going over that. Fletcher was convinced that someone had found a way to replicate human beings. He supported his theory with scientific jargon that Lance couldn't follow. Carol was a bundle of emotions on the edge. Everything excited her, which made Lance suspect that she could smell the glory and fame associated with a story like this, and with her being the one to break it. Lance, for his part, was tired of going round in circles and wanted someone to show him what the next step was. Aidan was driving him crazy. His partner was mysteriously serene, his face a study of reflection, as if he was going over all the information in his mind in silence, his eyes flashing determination.

"Well, what appears to be clear," Aidan summarized, "is that there are several of these clones with different surnames. I thought they were all going to be physically like William and James, but after seeing the bodybuilder it's clear I was mistaken."

"Maybe, there are more moulds?" Fletcher suggested. "I mean more people, different to James and Earl who have replicas with the opposite surname."

"It sounds reasonable," Carol agreed. "How many models do you think there are? And how many copies of each one?"

Lance checked her speculation.

"Not many, remember the list. Around thirty. Fifteen White, fifteen Black. And a lot of them are dead."

"Maybe they're making more copies," Fletcher said.

Aidan disagreed. "I don't think so. Even though I don't know the point of all of this, it can't be as easy as making a copy of someone and letting him run wild on the street. They've all got a history. William Black had a job, bank account, was on the payroll, had a house. He was married, which means there's a woman who can tell us at least part of his life. If we replicated another person, we wouldn't have those characteristics. If William Black had a life before he was decapitated, then I'm betting the others did too."

"Show me the list," Carol said. "I'll search the pasts of these clones, or whatever they are."

"So, what do we do now?" Lance wanted to know.

"We'll work it out," Aidan proclaimed. "We'll call on Earl Black. I want to have it out with him."

"What about James Black?" Carol asked.

"Not now. I'd prefer to go after Earl Black. I'd like to hear his version of how he got from the goalposts to the ladies' toilet."

Carol nodded. Lance was happy for any excuse to leave the mortuary. Fletcher had plenty of post-mortem work to keep him busy. He told them he would ring the results through as soon as he had them. He demanded that they kept him informed as well.

They called the station to get Earl Black's address and send a patrol car there to keep the house under surveillance until they got there.

"It's some sort of medieval thing," Lance suggested as Aidan drove away.

Carol was in the back seat watching houses flash past. She wanted to tell Aidan to slow down, but in the end said nothing.

"I'm talking about the weapons," Lance went on. "What's wrong with guns? They've got to be better than bows and arrows."

"It didn't occur to me before," Carol said. "It could be a group of collectors who venerate antique weapons."

"That's something we can ask our friend," Aidan said, changing lanes. "I plan on checking his house and if I find a sword I'm going to get him to explain a few things to us. He won't be going anywhere this time. There's no getting away a second time."

"You couldn't hold him, remember?" Lance chimed in, worried about the change in Aidan's mood. He sounded on the verge of snapping. "What are you going to do? Beat him a bit until he talks?"

Instead of an answer, Aidan watched the road ahead, and stayed out of the exchange of ideas between Lance and Carol. There was no end to the clone theories. Lance included aliens in the list of candidates, while Carol suggested they'd come from a planet where everyone looked the same. To Aidan's surprise and dismay, he couldn't discount any of that, as mad as it seemed. The next thing they'd be searching for flying saucers.

He kept sane behind the wheel, thinking about what he was going to ask Earl Black. He turned into a side street and ran straight into a traffic jam, which only added to his irritation. The new slow progress meant nothing to Carol and Lance, engrossed as they were in the world of infinite possibility.

A little further on the traffic cleared.

"What was that?" Lance asked, hearing a shrill whistle pass overhead.

"Don't know," Aidan said, sticking his head out of the window. "I think some metal object just flew overhead."

"Look!" Carol screamed, pointing ahead at something moving very fast towards them.

They ducked their heads, involuntarily, as the object sped past and scythed through a lamp post, like a knife through butter. Aidan had no time to react as half the post thundered into the bonnet of their car and they swerved into more vehicles parked on the kerb. Glass and twisted chunks of metal were flying everywhere.

Aidan undid the seatbelt, checked to see that the others were all right, and then got out, furious, trying to find out who or what had thrown the strange object. He couldn't see anything. Several bystanders were coming forward to offer help and in the distance he saw a man dressed in a black suit running away. It wasn't William or Earl, but it was one of the Blacks for sure. Everything matched, and he was the only one running in the opposite direction.

Aidan started after him as fast as could. The man in black had a good head start but Aidan wasn't going to let him escape. He concentrated on his legs, willing them to run faster, and as he did he wondered if the man ahead was one of the moulds as Fletcher had suggested and if there were others like him. There had to be a Mr White exactly the same somewhere out there.

He was cutting the distance between them with every stride, and even though there was still a long way to go, Aidan felt he could catch him. It was only a question of time. The man in black turned to the right and took a side street, a decision which pleased Aidan, because he knew there would be less pedestrian traffic there. But just as he turned the corner he slammed into someone coming the other way and lost his balance.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the man in black running away, as he took two long strides sideways and fell heavily on the pavement. The fall knocked the breath out of him and he took a few seconds to sit up. And when he did, he noticed that he was dizzy and his left knee was throbbing. He shook his head and got his bearings, then looked down the street at the distant figure of the man in black turning another corner. He stood up, and took a few tentative steps but couldn't run any more.

"Look where you're going, you fool," a voice yelled behind him. Aidan didn't pay it any attention. He'd lost the man in black and he could barely contain his fury. "And you haven't even said sorry. Hey! I'm talking to you, you fool."

The stranger kept on insulting him while Aidan looked up and down the street for a car to use.

"It seems the taller you are the more stupid you are." Aidan felt a punch in the back, then a shove, then a heavier punch. "Besides not giving a damn, you're a complete idiot to boot."

Enraged, Aidan spun around and stopped the next insult with a sharp punch in the stranger's eye. The man was driven back by the force of the blow and staggered like a drunk, but managed to stay on his feet. Aidan grabbed him by the neck and punched him in the stomach, which doubled him up, then cocked his fist again as someone jumped on his back, thrashing wildly. Aidan couldn't see who it was so he propelled himself backwards into a car.

"That's enough," Lance screamed out, recovering from the blow. "Leave this bloke alone. You've got to get a grip of yourself."

Aidan's glazed eyes returned to normal. His breathing slowed, and his muscles relaxed. But Lance held on to him a while longer just in case.

"Why don't you let him go, fat man?" a voice said. "You've stopped our little party here. Before you came along, your friend and I were having a good time."

Lance couldn't believe his eyes. The man Aidan had just punched was none other than Dylan Blair. And that wasn't all, he was coming at Aidan with fists clenched. Lance moved between them and stopped Dylan from getting an even bigger beating.

"Forget it, Aidan. It's Dylan Blair."

Aidan studied Dylan carefully. But his rage had passed. His nerves were steady.

"I can see that you know who I am," Dylan said, rubbing his bruised eye. His brow was cut and blood was trickling down his cheek. "Therefore, you'll know what I'm capable of. I'm going to spend a good deal of money on a good lawyer and we're going to crucify you, my lanky friend. You'll learn to regret what's happened here today."

"That won't be necessary," Lance interrupted. "There's been a mistake, that's all. Aidan will apologize."

"Shut up, fat man," Dylan snapped. "This has got nothing to do with you. And as you can see, there are a lot of witnesses. What do you reckon, big boy. Want to go on? C'mon, you piece of shit. I'm ready for you."

Dylan Blair lifted his fists and hunched his shoulders and stepped forward. His eye had swollen some more and now he could barely see out of it.

"I'll testify that you started it," Lance informed him. "Let's just let the whole thing drop."

"Now, I'm really scared," Dylan laughed. "Fatso here is going to give false testimony and sink my legal strategy. What are you two, lovers?"

Things were getting out of control, fast. The comment horrified Lance. It was only a question of time before Aidan snapped again.

"You're a cool customer, big boy. I haven't been able to draw you out. But this grease ball here is your weak point. I'll see the both of you again." Dylan staggered off.

Aidan and Lance went back to the car. Carol had recovered from the knock on the head and couldn't have run anywhere. After checking that she was all right, Aidan sat down on the ground and said nothing. Lance briefed Carol about what had happened with Dylan.

The patrol car called in to let them know that they were at Earl Black's house and no one was there. Lance told them to stay where they were and keep an eye on the house.

"We'll pick up where we finished tomorrow," Aidan said suddenly, getting up. "Anyway, it's nearly night time. I'm off."

"I'll go with you," Lance told him.

"No. You go home to your wife. And you, Carol, go wherever you want. I've got to be alone."

"I understand," Lance said, thinking about his wife. "It's been a hard day and I wouldn't think of leaving her alone all night on the anniversary of…"

"I said I want to be alone," Aidan snapped, as he began walking down the street. The other two watched him walk to the corner, and then disappear.