The Fog - James Herbert [37]
The Chief Superintendent studied Holman’s face for a few moments and then said, ‘All right, that wasn’t the real name. I’m going to show you a list – let’s see if you recognize any of the names on it.’
He handed a sheet of paper to Holman who quickly scanned the typewritten list. He shook his head and read through it again, this time more slowly. ‘It’s no good,’ he said finally, ‘I don’t recognize any. One or two sound familiar but . . .’ Again, he shook his head.
‘The name of the school is Redbrook. Redbrook House, to be exact. Ring a bell?’
‘It sounds right, but I couldn’t honestly swear to it.’
‘I bet you couldn’t,’ the younger policeman broke in harshly.
‘Let me handle this, Barrow,’ Wreford said sharply, becoming a little tired now of his subordinate’s ruthlessness. Although he often used him as a balance against his assumed mildness, he had begun to wonder if Barrow didn’t relish the role he played just a little too much.
‘All right, Mr Holman,’ he said, his voice quickly becoming more even, ‘we’ll have to hold you for a short time while we’re making further investigations.’
‘Are you arresting me?’ Holman’s tone was incredulous.
‘Certainly not. But you must admit, the circumstances are suspicious, to say the least.’
‘I suppose so. But what about Casey? She’ll need me.’
‘Miss Simmons will be well looked after.’
‘Where is she?’
‘At the moment, she’s in the Middlesex Hospital under sedation. It seems she’s still in a state of shock.’
‘But don’t you see, that’s because of the fog. It’s a reaction to it!’
‘Whether it is or not, we’ll soon find out. And tell me something, Mr Holman, if this fog is drifting around the country sending people mad, why haven’t we had reports of it? Why aren’t all the people living in that part of the country raving lunatics?’ A slight edge of anger had appeared in the policeman’s last question.
‘I don’t know! I suppose it’s because the fog doesn’t cover such a wide area. And don’t forget, there’s a lot of open land around there. It may be that not too many people have come in contact with it as yet. And there seems to be some sort of delayed reaction. We came in contact with it yesterday, Spiers the day before. It must take time to work its way into the system!’
‘But you told us you were mad when they dragged you from the hole!’ said Barrow, annoyed that his superior should even listen to such drivel.
‘I was subjected to a massive dose of it! I was its first victim!’ Holman angrily banged his hand on the table.
‘Then tell us, Mr Holman,’ said Wreford calmly, ‘why you are not mad now. Or are you?’
There was an abrupt silence in the small room. Three pairs of eyes looked intently into Holman’s, the three policemen waiting for his reply.
‘Look,’ he said wearily, ‘I just don’t know. I’m not a doctor, I’m not a scientist – maybe the Ministry of Defence can tell you.’
The two CID men looked at one another. ‘What do you mean by that?’ asked the Chief Superintendent quietly.
‘They’ve got military installations down on Salisbury Plain. They conduct experiments – dangerous experiments – in the interest of the nation! Maybe they’ve got some answers.’
‘Oh, come on . . .’ began Barrow, a sneering grin on his face, but he was cut off by the older man.
‘Are you saying the Ministry of Defence is responsible for this? That they’ve released some sort of . . .’ Wreford paused, ‘. . . some sort of nerve gas?’
‘For God’s sake, I don’t know! It’s a possibility though!’
‘Oh, sir, do we have to listen to this?’ Barrow looked as though he were ready to pounce on Holman.
‘No, we don’t. If what you say is true, Mr Holman, then we should know very shortly. Until we do, I’m afraid we have to hold you.’
‘Okay, okay. But see they look after Casey. She’s got to be watched constantly.’
‘Shell be in safe hands, Mr Holman, I can assure you of that.’
8
Herbert Brown was worried about his pigeons. He drained his whisky and stared at the empty glass for a few moments.
‘Another one, Herby?’ asked the barman, reaching for a new glass, knowing his customer would not drink