The Blood Tree (10 page)

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Authors: Paul Johnston

BOOK: The Blood Tree
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“What the hell's that?” I said, looking round.

“Uch, don't worry about him,” Godwin said. “Come out of there, Cerberus.”

Katharine and I exchanged glances as a black form manoeuvred itself from beneath the pillow. It stood peering at us, then jumped down and ran over to the old man.

“You call your cat Cerberus?” I asked, trying to work out what it was about the animal's appearance that didn't make sense. It was larger than your average domesticated feline and the short fur was thick and curly. Then it started washing itself and I felt my stomach flip. “Jesus.”

Gavin Godwin laughed. “I did think of calling him that, but I reckoned the science and energy guardian would have taken it as an attack on the Council's atheist principles.”

“What happened to its mouth?” I asked, staring at the heavy jaws and fearsome teeth.


His
mouth,” Godwin said. “Cerberus is definitely male. Just look at his reproductive organs.”

I bent down and clocked what looked very like a dog's dick and bollocks.

“He's a hybrid,” Katharine said, her voice faint. “You crossed a cat with a dog.”

The old man nodded. “Crossed hardly does justice to the complexity of the process, but yes, in layman's terms that's what I did. The Supply Directorate was having terrible problems with rats – big, ferocious bastards that nested in the old railway tunnels beneath the main depot in Waverley. So I came up with this little laddie and his pals. The cunning and ruthlessness of a Siamese combined with the speed and bite of a terrier.”

“Didn't Cerberus have three heads?” I asked.

Gavin Godwin stretched a hand down – something I definitely wouldn't have risked – and scratched the creature's chin. It looked up at him, slanting its green eyes and making a strangulated purring noise that did nothing to reduce the impression of otherworldly viciousness.

“I put forward a research proposal along those lines,” the old man said, leaning forward excitedly. “Think of the carnage three-headed rat-catchers could have generated.” Then he twitched his head. “My idiotic superiors thought it would cause unrest in the depot. They used it as an excuse to retire me. That and the fact that being over eighty apparently means you're ga-ga.” He stuck his finger into his pet's mouth and ran the nail along the line of solid teeth. The animal stopped purring and gave a cautionary growl. “No, the point of the name is that the first two embryos didn't come to fruition. Cerberus was the third so I gave him that name to preserve the memory of his brothers.”

“Unusually sentimental for a scientist,” I said.

The old man gave me a blank look. “Cerberus was also the guardian of the ancient underworld, you know.”

“Which must make you Pluto,” I said under my breath. “Getting back to 2002, Gavin.”

He nodded slowly. “Aye. What are you after?”

“You were an adviser to the Scottish Parliament's Genetic Engineering Committee.”

“I was,” the old scientist agreed. “Along with several colleagues. Are you talking to them too?”

“None of the others is in Edinburgh,” I said. “Unless you know different.”

“No, no. I haven't seen any of them since independence.”

“In April of 2002 there was a meeting that dealt with two research proposals.”

Gavin Godwin was staring at me but he wasn't giving me any help.

“The first was called Fet-mat. It was approved.”

He moved his head so slightly that I wasn't sure if he'd nodded.

“And the second was referred to as 4.1.116.” I was watching him closely. His eyes, pale brown and narrowed, didn't give anything away. “Do you remember that proposal?”

Godwin shook his head slowly, squeezing his pet's ear.

“No?” I asked. “Are you sure? It caused a lot of argument on ethical grounds.”

“Careful, Cerberus,” the old man said quietly. “You don't want to hurt your creator, do you?” The animal was growling in what sounded like an affirmative way to me. “Do you know how many of those committee meetings I had to attend?” Godwin demanded. “The university started docking my salary eventually. Not that it mattered. It wasn't long till the drugs gangs ransacked Heriot-Watt and burned it to the ground.”

“Proposal 4.1.116,” I repeated. “Think about it. The research was outlined in an attachment.”

“That was standard procedure,” Godwin snapped. It looked like I was getting to him.

Katharine went up to him and knelt down by Cerberus. She even had the nerve to stroke the creature's furry back. He seemed to like it. His master was impressed too. He smiled slackly.

“Did you get a personal copy of the minutes and the attachments, Gavin?” Katharine asked in a low voice.

The old man's cheeks began to redden. I had the feeling the only women who'd been near him recently smelled of rubbing alcohol and haemorrhoid cream.

“Did you?” Katharine pressed.

Godwin looked away and shook his head. “No. We were given copies of the attachments to read before the meetings and we got the minutes to approve afterwards. In both cases the committee secretary's office retrieved all documentation.” He shrugged his shoulders underneath the rug. “It was all top secret, of course.”

“Of course,” I muttered. “So we'll have to rely on your memory, Gavin.” I smiled encouragingly. “Which you said is in perfect working order.”

He looked at me shakily. “Well, almost perfect—”

“Rubbish!” I yelled, trying to shock him into talking.

Bad idea. Cerberus leaped to his hairy feet and came scrabbling towards me like a mouth on legs.

“Shit,” I gasped, aiming a kick at him. It missed but that only made him more ferocious. I felt the points of his teeth through the leather of my boot.

Godwin fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a small metallic object and put it to his lips. His cheeks inflated, making him look more like a chipmunk than a mouse. I couldn't hear anything but the animal crashed to the floor and wrapped his front paws over his ears. I'd have burst out laughing if I hadn't been so worried about my foot.

“Don't worry,” the old man said. “You won't need an anti-tetanus. Cerberus is clean of all infection. I built that into his system.”

I wiped the creature's saliva off my boot on the curtain and turned back to the scientist. “Are you sure you can't help us on that research? What was it about?”

Gavin Godwin turned up his hands. “I can't recall. I'm pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with animals. That would have stuck.”

Before I could make my mind up whether I believed him or not, my mobile rang.

“Quint? Where are you?”

“Retirement home number zo in Royal Terrace, Davie.”

“Get out of there fast. I'll meet you at the entrance to the Botanic Gardens in Arboretum Road.” His voice was unusually tense.

“What is it?”

“Dead male auxiliary. Circumstances extremely suspicious.”

“Bloody hell.” I beckoned to Katharine. “We're on our way. Out.”

I exited Godwin's room so quickly that even Cerberus was left for dead.

Chapter Five

I drove across Leith Walk, heading north-west through what used to be Edinburgh's gay quarter, the so-called Broughton Triangle. It still has that orientation, but the bars and clubs are for tourists only. The Council has no problem with homosexuality – given that the regime was founded on the doctrines of Plato, that would be one display of hypocrisy too many – but citizen liaisons are handled in leisure centres outside the tourist zone.

“Did you believe that old crazy?” Katharine asked, bracing herself as I swerved round a corner.

“About not remembering the research project? I'm not sure. He didn't strike me as being particularly senile.”

“What about that pet of his? Poor thing. It must be suffering from a major identity crisis.”

“Poor thing?” I braked as a football bounced across the road in front of me. A small girl stood with her mouth open at the sight of the guard vehicle. She was probably even more shocked when I didn't stop and take her name. “Cerberus is without question the most loathsome creature I've ever come across.” I glanced at her and grinned. “And that includes senior auxiliaries.”

Katharine ignored that observation. “It's not the animal's fault,” she said. “I thought genetic engineering wasn't allowed in this city.”

We crossed the bridge over the Water of Leith beyond Canonmills and approached the Botanics.

“Maybe its genes weren't engineered or modified,” I said. “Maybe Gavin Godwin wasn't being straight with us. He might just have found a way to make dogs fancy cats.”

“Come on,” Katharine scoffed. “He was on the Genetic Engineering Committee. He obviously knew how to fiddle around with genes and embryos.”

I nodded. “Don't worry. I'll be raising that point with Hamilton. He's been seriously twitchy ever since he saw which file had been tampered with.”

Katharine shook her head as I turned into Inverleith Terrace, the branches of the trees in the Botanics hanging over the road. “You'll be far too busy with this suspicious death now to worry about the break-in.”

Christ. The dead male auxiliary. I'd forgotten about him. I felt the extra rush that I always get at the beginning of cases involving suspicious death. The increase of youth gang activity has meant that homicide is more common than it used to be under the Council, but there still aren't many murders. Especially not of auxiliaries.

That may have explained why what looked like every guard vehicle in the city had pulled up in Arboretum Road.

“Bloody hell, Davie,” I said as he came out of the mêlée of guard personnel. “Haven't these people got anything else to do?”

“This is a bad one, Quint,” he said in a low voice. His face was solemn. “You know what it's like when an auxiliary goes down.” He glanced around. “Everyone wants to get involved.”

“Where's the body?” I asked.

“I'll take you straight there,” Davie replied. His eyes rested on Katharine. “What about . . . ?”

“I'm coming too,” she said firmly.

I looked at her. “Are you sure? You've got to go back to work tomorrow, haven't you? There's no point in—”

“Sod the Welfare Directorate,” she said. “I'm due some days in lieu anyway. This sounds much more diverting.”

“It's definitely that,” Davie said, biting his lip. “If you're sure, Quint . . .”

I shrugged helplessly. Arguing with Katharine was never a good idea. Besides, it's useful to have back-up you can rely on.

“This way then.” Davie set off towards the gate. Guardsmen and women got out of his way, more because of the thunderous look on his face than his commander's insignia.

We went through the gate into the gardens' seventy acres. A temporary checkpoint had been set up and we had to flash ID. Fortunately the gardens are only open to tourists at weekends as they're outside the central zone. Special buses are organised and guard patrols are increased to ensure the locals don't do anything embarrassing in front of the paying guests – like gawp at their expensive clothes and cameras. At least we wouldn't be bothered today.

Davie bore to the left. “The body's in the copse,” he said.

That area of the Botanics is less cultivated than the rest, the woodland and hedges sheltering foreign species of plants. Even in autumn there were patches of colour in the herbaceous border. Birds were hopping busily about the place uncovering worms beneath the carpet of leaves.

“It's over by that big copper beech,” Davie said.

“Very appropriate,” I said under my breath. The leaves of the great tree, most of them still attached, were a deep burned-red colour which reminded me of the bloodstained scenes of crime I'd experienced too often in my life.

There was a crowd of auxiliaries ahead of us. I made out the scene-of-crime squad and the Medical Directorate examiners pulling on their protective suits. A six-foot-high maroon tent had been erected beside the beech to keep the rain off the corpse and to shroud the scene. A Welfare Directorate child care facility had been built in the northern reaches of the gardens and this obviously wasn't a sight for kiddies. Hamilton and Sophia were standing beside the tent. They were always attracted to suspicious deaths on the grounds of scarcity – like me.

“Guardian alert,” Katharine said. “This'll be fun.”

I wiped the sheen of drizzle from my face and strode up to them.

“Before we start, let's get this clear,” I said. “I want Katharine on the case with me. No arguments, no further discussion.”

Lewis and Sophia looked at me blankly for a few seconds then nodded their heads reluctantly.

“We don't have time for this, Quint,” Sophia said in a long-suffering voice. “Just make sure she doesn't get in the way.”

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