Doctor Who_ Warlock - Andrew Cartmel [80]
‘We looked through the public records. We have a date of birth and a name, which is just enough to give her an official existence. But get this. Her name actually appears to be Mrs Woodcott. “Mrs” being her first name, spelled just like that. Computers are stupid. They’re as willing to accept “Mrs” as a name as “Mary”. It’s in every database right back to her childhood. So either her parents had a very odd sense of humour or someone has been messing around in the British police computer, altering her official records.’
‘Why would anybody do a thing like that?’ said Webster. There had been a feeling of tension in the room since the Bowmans had arrived and stared with evident hostility at Creed. Now that tension suddenly broke and everybody laughed.
‘Why indeed,’ said Harrigan. He tapped the name on the blackboard. ‘And why are we interested in Mrs Woodcott? Well, it seems the British police have her name linked to warlock on all their databases. Linked, like, how many times, Webster?’
‘Over a hundred and twenty‐two thousand at the last count.’
‘You see? So as far as this drug is concerned, she is the woman everyone wants to talk to. Including us. But she’s dropped out of sight. The British police and every intelligence service in Europe are looking for her.’ His deep, wrinkled eyes blinked like a toad’s. ‘And all the king’s horses and all the king’s men have come up with diddly squat.’
‘The smart betting is that she’s somewhere in London. But none of the spy satellites have been able to spot her on the street. She’s hidden herself very effectively.’
Harrigan rocked back on the heels of his boots and studied the blackboard. ‘Right, now memorize a couple more names.’ He wrote them quickly with his chalk. ‘Justine and Vincent Wheaton. A married couple. Very ordinary, very respectable. Nothing remarkable about them. No criminal record. She’s English by birth, he’s an American émigré. Webster says his records in the USA are so squeaky clean that they must be a fake.’
‘I can’t say for sure,’ said Webster. ‘But, yeah, my instinct is that his files have been resprayed.’
‘There is one anomaly in this perfect life, though. Tell us about it, Webster.’
‘Well, it’s a kind of a spooky coincidence, really. I’ve been able to retrieve some of the records from this dormant computer here in the King Building. And it seems this guy visited the place when he was a kid. He is registered in the database here as a guest.’ Webster jerked a thumb up towards the ceiling. ‘He signed in and paid a visit to the 51st floor. That’s all we know.’ Webster looked around the room, waiting for a reaction but getting none. He looked at the old man for help.
‘I guess the rest of the folks here don’t share our fascination with the history of this building,’ said Harrigan. ‘The 51st floor is where the Butler Institute had its biostock division. Most of the records for this place were wiped during the big fire, so nobody knows for sure what went on there. But it’s a name which still rings bells on defence computers all over the world, under the headings biological warfare, cybernetics and weapons research.’
‘So what you’re saying,’ said Creed, ‘is to approach this guy with extreme caution.’
‘Extreme caution. And you have to keep him in one piece. We need to use him to apply pressure to his wife. It’s her we’re really interested in. Why?’ He tapped the words Mrs Woodcott on the blackboard. ‘Because she’s Woodcott’s only known friend. If anyone knows how to find Mrs Woodcott, it’s her.’
Artie spoke up for the first time. ‘How come the English police haven’t picked her up?’
‘Evidently they don’t know about the connection.’
‘Then how do we know about it?’ said Raymond Bowman.
‘We discovered this information by tapping into a computer that belongs to a friend of Benny’s in England. A gentleman known as the Doctor.’
The old Texan set his chalk aside and settled his big frame into his oversized leather chair. ‘This Doctor seems to be a pretty interesting fellow. Sharp, too. So sharp, in fact, that he detected our presence soon