Doctor Who_ Warlock - Andrew Cartmel [20]
‘Whatever,’ said the Mayan brother. He was getting angry; pissed off because Miss Winterhill knew more than he did. ‘There’s lots of different stories about warlock. No one seems entirely clear about where it comes from or what its chemistry is. No one has managed to analyse it properly yet, let alone synthesize it. They say the CIA first brought it into this country in the 1950s.’
‘So what?’ said Larner. He was staring at his gun on the coffee table. ‘What’s this about one of us being a cop? If that’s true, then I want out.’
‘It’s true, I’m afraid you’ve got to stay for the rest of the show. But don’t worry, everything is going to be fine.’ The older Mayan smiled. ‘Unless you’re the cop, that is.’
‘We’re going to nail the bastard,’ said his brother. ‘We’re going to find out who he is.’
‘He or she,’ said the older Mayan.
The hooker and Miss Winterhill exchanged a look. ‘How do you propose to do that?’ said Miss Winterhill.
‘By using warlock,’ said the younger Mayan. ‘That’s why we doped you with it.’
‘You’re not making sense,’ said Creed. But he could feel a growing chill in his stomach.
‘This is a very interesting drug,’ said the older brother. He nodded at the hooker. ‘You were right. It’s a mind drug. But it has a highly unusual effect, especially in group situations.’
Miss Winterhill was frowning with concentration. You could see a sharp mind working flat out behind those eyes.
‘I remember reading about ecstasy,’ she said, ‘it was the first drug since alcohol that had a major use in social contexts. Big parties. Raves. Concerts. It seemed to have a synergistic effect when a number of people used it together.’
‘Group high,’ said Larner. ‘Contact high. You don’t even need everybody to be on the drug for everybody to feel stoned. It’s psychological.’
But Miss Winterhill didn’t seem convinced.
‘The music was a big part of that scene, too,’ said Creed. He kept his voice natural and conversational. If the Mayan didn’t believe he was the cop maybe he shouldn’t believe it himself. Maybe he could fool them by camouflaging himself with the right mind‐set. The right beliefs.
‘Music was a factor. So was smell,’ said Miss Winterhill.
‘Smell?’ said the hooker.
‘It was noticed right from the start that a room full of people dancing on ecstasy had a certain odour. A distinctive smell from the sweat of the people who had taken the drug. But it took a long time for researchers to realize that this was a component of the drug’s action. The smell of other users increased your own high. It was a chemical messenger process, like pheromones.’
‘You know your drugs,’ said the older Mayan grudgingly. ‘But you ain’t seen nothing yet. Sorbelio and me have been playing around with warlock. It has some interesting effects. Very interesting.’
His brother nodded. ‘And the cop in this room isn’t going to like it one bit.’
‘Warlock is going to help us find out who this cop is. We’ve all taken the drug and soon it’s going to take effect. That’s how we’ll find him.’
‘Him or her,’ said his brother, looking at Miss Winterhill and the hooker.
‘Hey, I’m out of here,’ said the hooker. ‘I’ve done what I’ve been paid for. I don’t want any of the rest of this.’
‘Shut up and sit down,’ said the younger brother. ‘I wouldn’t put it past IDEA to send a girl to screw me then really screw me.’
‘Screwing you is one thing I won’t be doing again,’ said the girl coolly. ‘Believe me.’ But Creed could tell she was scared. Some barely audible tremor in her voice gave her away.
The plastic on the window was flapping in the wind and for a moment its rhythm seemed to contain as much meaning as the rise and fall of a human voice. That was what Creed thought, and he could tell by their flinching reaction that some of the others thought the same thing.
Creed felt very strange. There was a new drug having an effect on his mind and he had no idea what to expect. The others seemed to be thinking similar thoughts.
The mood in the room was