Andy Lane - Slow Decay

‘Morning,’ said a voice. He glanced up, startled, embarrassed. Lucy’s face was about two feet away from him. She’d lifted herself up from the sofa slightly, shifting the duvet so that it fell away from her body from shoulder to thigh. The deep shadows made her body more erotic, more mysterious. He felt his heart skip a beat.

‘Coffee’s here,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘I’ll do breakfast.’

‘I’m starving,’ she said.

‘What do you want to eat?’

She smiled, sleepily and suggestively. ‘You?’

‘Or bacon,’ Rhys said quickly. ‘Bacon and eggs do you?’

Lucy pouted, gazing up at Rhys from beneath heavy lashes. ‘If that’s all there is on the menu.’ She tugged the duvet around her, sitting upright with that sudden switch from sensuality to practicality that, Rhys had noticed, only women could manage. ‘And can I have lots of it? With toast?’

Rhys was about to straighten up when he noticed a dish on the side table that hadn’t been there the night before. Sticky traces around the edge indicated ice cream. A sudden pain ran through his stomach, as if someone had grabbed hold and twisted. Ice cream. Sweet and cool, melting in his mouth and trickling down his throat.

Lucy noticed his fixed gaze, and misinterpreted what he was thinking. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I woke up during the night and felt like I needed a snack. I hope you don’t mind…’

‘That’s OK,’ he said. ‘I was just wondering whether ice cream counted as breakfast.’

‘Actually…’ Lucy played with the edge of the duvet. ‘I think I might have finished it.’

‘No problem — I can always pop down the supermarket and get some more.’

‘It’s a good thing you didn’t need to go to the loo or something while I was getting the ice cream,’ she said, smiling at Rhys. ‘I completely forgot where I was, so I ended up stark naked by the freezer, scooping ice cream out of the tub.’

The mental picture of Lucy, her beautiful body illuminated by the light from the freezer door, licking ice cream from her lips hit Rhys’s mind. ‘I’ll… just get that toast on,’ he breathed.

‘What’s the plan for today?’ he called from the kitchen area as he slotted toast into the toaster.

‘I guess I could try calling the police again, see if there’s any news.’

‘OK. Gwen said she’d make a couple of calls herself, see if any of her friends know anything.’

‘Good for Gwen.’ Lucy shook her head, black hair spilling across her bare shoulders. ‘Sorry, that sounded bitchy. You’ve both been so good to me. I can’t stay here forever, I know that, but I don’t want to go back to my place just in case someone’s there waiting for me. I guess I could look for another flat. I’ll have to do it some time, anyway, just to get away from Ricky’

‘If you want a hand, I’ll come with you,’ Rhys offered.

‘I’d appreciate that.’

The toaster chunked as the wire basket shot up. The smell of hot toast filled the kitchen.

Lucy’s head snapped round. ‘Actually,’ she said with fake casualness, ‘rather than let the toast get cold, I could just eat it now, while you’re doing the bacon and eggs…’

*

Jack had called a council of war in the Hub.

‘Exciting night, last night,’ he said. ‘Apparently Everton won against Liverpool — a giant-killing performance which puts them solidly on course for the Premiership. And, in the small print on page eight, I see we caught ourselves a little puzzle. Well done, by the way. I hope everyone is feeling refreshed and recovered after a good night’s sleep.’

‘What was left of it,’ Gwen muttered. She was feeling woozy after having driven home through empty streets — which was fortunate, as she twice found herself driving along the white line in the centre of the road — and then having stumbled into bed past a recumbent and snoring Lucy, snuggled up on the sofa. And thank God she was on the sofa, and not in Gwen’s bed.

‘Toshiko,’ Jack continued as if nobody had spoken, ‘how’s the head?’

‘It’s feeling fine, thank you,’ Toshiko said. ‘Owen stitched me up last night.’

‘Stitched the wound up, I hope. Although I wouldn’t put anything past him.’ Jack turned to where Owen was glowering, off to one side. ‘Owen: what did we learn from the lady’s blood sample?’

Owen’s mouth twisted in that little grimace that, Gwen had noticed, he made when he was stumped but didn’t want to admit it. ‘High levels of blood sugar and lipids, which you’d expect from someone who had eaten recently, and her cortisol levels were elevated, which indicates stress, like she’d been running or been in a fight. Apart from that, the blood work indicates she’s in good health. If she was suffering from some kind of disease I’d be looking for a shitload of leucocytes, that kind of thing, but she’s clear.’

‘And she’s human?’

‘Sorry — didn’t I say? Yes, she’s as human as I am.’

Jack glanced over at Gwen. ‘Do you want to take this one, or shall I?’

‘Let’s give him a free ride,’ Gwen replied. ‘I’m feeling generous.’

‘OK.’ Jack looked over at Toshiko. ‘Tosh, I know you haven’t had much time, but what’s the odds of getting some kind of scan going of Marianne’s insides. I want to see if there’s anything there that shouldn’t be.’

‘Most non-invasive imaging techniques require the cooperation of the patient,’ Toshiko replied, ‘either willingly, because they want to help, or unwittingly because they are unconscious. I’m assuming that conducting a scan of this young woman is like X-raying a conscious tiger: you couldn’t expect her to stay still, and you might lose your life if you tried. Ideally I would prefer her to be heavily sedated, but we saw last night how much sedative it took to even render her sleepy, let alone put her to sleep for any length of time. And I understand from Ianto that she recovered very quickly once she was left alone. So I’m still working on options for remote scanning. I may have to disassemble one of the scanners we have and reassemble it on either side of the cell. That counts as heavy engineering, and it won’t happen quickly.’

‘Any way of speeding it up?’

Toshiko shrugged. ‘I could try something that doesn’t require transmission techniques — single-sided X-ray, perhaps. The quality of the image would be reduced, but it might be quicker.’

‘Go for whatever has the best chance of a quick win. Thanks Tosh. Ianto — what kind of mood is our guest in?’

Ianto stepped forward from the shadows at the back of the Hub. Gwen hadn’t even known he was standing there. As usual, his bland face was set in a slight smile. ‘Hungry. She has put away several pizzas so far, and still wants more. The more she eats, the less edgy she gets. Apart from that she is chatty, but confused. She doesn’t know where she is or what’s happening. I’ve given her the impression that she is being held in custody after an incident last night. I’ve also given her the impression that a drink she had may have been drugged with Rohypnol, which is why she can’t remember anything and why she may have hallucinated some strange things.’

‘Good work. That should hold it for a while. Gwen?’

‘Marianne Till was reported missing this morning. Her mother said she’d gone out for a meal last night with some friends; the friends said she wandered off from the group early in the evening. She said she was feeling ill, and wanted to go home.’

‘Not much chance of that at the moment,’ Owen said. ‘Mummy and Daddy would be on the menu within half an hour, followed by Granny, the dog and the next-door neighbours.’

‘The police won’t investigate,’ Gwen continued. ‘I’ve been in this situation too often before. Over two hundred thousand people are reported missing in the UK each year. Most of them return safe and sound within seventy-two hours, but there’s still a couple of thousand who don’t. Trouble is, the police won’t actively look for these people unless they’re exceptionally vulnerable or obviously the victims of a crime.’