Over Julie’s shoulder, through the internal window, Angharad could see one of her silver selves in the corridor. Not much more silver. At Angharad’s age, there weren’t many silver selves left.
‘I’m going to fetch you some water.’ Angharad pulled back from Julie, and stroked her cheek.
‘Don’t leave me for too long,’ Julie said.
‘You won’t even miss me.’
The silver Angharad had disappeared, but only into the waiting room.
‘What are you doing here?’ Angharad asked. ‘It’s not bad news, is it?’
‘No,’ her silver self said. ‘Not for us, anyway.’
‘Then for who?’
‘Keep your voice down. Do you want Julie to hear you get overexcited? I’ve brought you a genie.’
‘What kind of genie?’
‘Information. I’m going to tell you what you need to pay Margaret back.’
‘Pay back?’ Angharad swallowed. ‘Are you saying I should hurt her?’
‘Yes. Because of how she’s treated Julie,’ her silver self said calmly. ‘You’ve let Julie down dreadfully. Revenge is the only way to atone.’
55
NOVEMBER 2017
Ruby
Ruby was hyperalert when she arrived in the museum’s boiler room. She was wearing her motorbike leathers. The visor of her helmet functioned as a mask. It made her anonymous, and that freed her of her conscience.
Margaret was already waiting for her.
‘You take a turn first,’ Ruby said.
Without saying a word, Margaret pointed her pistol at the Candybox, fired with precision, and stepped neatly to the side before the bullet ricocheted from the machine.
She handed the pistol to Ruby. The trigger guard was a tight fit, due to Ruby’s gloves.
‘Have all your bullets ricocheted?’ Ruby asked.
‘Yes,’ Margaret replied.
‘What about the other players? Did their bullets bounce back too?’
‘Only Julie Parris attempted it. Barbara was like the others – she refused to even try. Whose footsteps will you follow in?’
‘I’ll shoot. Don’t you worry.’
‘What are you waiting for?’
‘I’d like to give my professional opinion of you.’
‘Really? I think that might be the most flattering stalling tactic I’ve ever heard. Do go on.’
‘You’re narcissistic. You empathise with people only to further your own ends, you charm people as long as you receive admiration in exchange, and you feel shame, but not guilt. You think you’re entitled to people’s compliance. You try to enliven your loveless world by inflicting pain on others and sensation-seeking with games like Candybox roulette. The Conclave is dysfunctional because anyone who doesn’t fulfil your narcissistic needs is eliminated, or self-selects out. You’ve made the whole organisation narcissistic. Convinced of its specialness and distinction from everyday people, obsessed with novel and high risk activities, and blunting its members’ empathy from the first day of their employment.’
‘You’re boring me. Shoot, or give me the atroposium.’
Without taking her eyes from Margaret, Ruby shot all the remaining bullets at the Candybox. Fate would dictate if she hit her target. She didn’t see if she’d succeeded. She saw Margaret’s reaction and knew the bullets had dematerialised.
The director of the Conclave tottered, taken aback by Ruby’s success. For the first time Ruby saw Margaret’s frailty. Ruby knew something that Margaret did not: Margaret had just edged closer to death.
That was when Ruby felt ashamed. She’d repaid Margaret for past cruelties. But the victory didn’t assuage her grief for Bee. It just lost Ruby her moral ground.
She threw the gun at Margaret’s feet and ran from the basement, out of the museum and into the night. The bike was waiting for her on the road. The emptiness of the streets was a blessing, because she wove at too high a speed. Perspiration condensed on her visor. By the time she hit traffic she thought she’d regained self-control, then she had to stop to vomit in the gutter. Her stomach heaved long after she was hollow. She wanted someone to tell her everything would be all right. Only one person could do that. Grace, with her secrets from the future; Grace, who Ruby had discarded.
56
OCTOBER 2018
Odette
Odette was working at her desk when Tech Ops rang.
‘Good news,’ said the Tech Ops manager.
‘Go on,’ Odette said.
‘We have the images from November the nineteenth. Margaret was definitely playing Candybox roulette that night, and she wasn’t alone.’
‘Who was she with?’
‘Looks like a woman, but she’s in full motorbike leathers, and she never takes off her helmet.’
‘If she came by motorbike, get the number plate.’
‘We did. The bike belongs to a Ruby Rebello.’
Odette stood up. Her stomach lurched. The name was a shock. Why would Dr Rebello be playing Candybox roulette? She wasn’t a time traveller, like Barbara Hereford, or Veronica, or Julie.
‘I’ll bring her in,’ Odette said, and hung up.
She contemplated walking out of the Conclave. She’d come to solve a mystery, and she had: she knew who the dead woman was, and who killed her. But if Odette waited, just a little longer, she might hear Dr Rebello’s own explanation; and Odette realised she wanted this very much. Her thoughts went back to the day she’d found the body: how Dr Rebello had been waiting to give Odette the therapy card. At the time Odette assumed the police must have alerted Dr Rebello she was in need of victim support. But now she guessed Dr Rebello had come of her own accord, trying to keep tabs on the case.
Yes; Odette wanted to wait for Dr Rebello’s explanation.
It was Elspeth who lent greater urgency to proceedings. Odette had just finished a telephone call, arranging for Ruby to be picked up, when the Beeline receiver on her desk started ringing. She hadn’t known it ring before, and stared at it momentarily before lifting the handset.
‘Hello?’ she asked hesitantly.
‘Odette? It’s Elspeth.’
Through the office door, Odette could see her boss was talking to a colleague.
‘Which Elspeth?’ Odette asked.
‘A day ahead of you. I wanted to say you have four hours until Dr Rebello’s trial.’
‘Why so fast?’
‘The trial is usually scheduled this quickly, we don’t have the administrative burden that the English courts do. But, Odette – this is important, you must listen – Dr Rebello will let slip you were her patient. Do you know what that means?’
The Conclave would demand Odette’s resignation. Her lies at the time of her application would cost her the job. Odette would join all the other men and women the Conclave had discriminated against.
‘Should I leave now?’ Odette asked.
‘Wait until Dr Rebello reveals you were her patient. You won’t be escorted off the premises until the end of the trial – once you’ve entered the courtroom no one can leave till the ordeal’s over – but as soon as it’s done you’ll be out the door. So tie up any loose ends now.’ Elspeth was breaking an embargo to help Odette leak information. Odette wondered whether she’d been an ally all along, or whether the investigation had persuaded Elspeth that the Conclave was rotten.
‘Thank you,’ Odette said. Her eyes fell on the case notes, splayed over her desk. Four hours was enough time to find a better home for them. First she needed to know whether the threats against Zach Callaghan and his family were ever acted upon in the future. She asked Elspeth if she could obtain any connected medical and police records in the coming decades, via Beeline.
‘I’d do it myself, but I don’t have the clearance to make outgoing transmissions. I’m not senior enough.’
‘Well, I am,’ Elspeth said. ‘I can get that to you in seconds.’
*
Odette ran to the station. She caught the train, and then she ran to the college where Zach Callaghan worked. She checked the lecture theatre where they’d first met, but he wasn’t there. Nor was he in any of the other theatres. There was a wall map on the second floor, which she deliberated over for some minutes. It was no help because it didn’t mark any of the staff rooms or offices where he might be hiding – only the halls that she’d already searched.