Chapter Two: Choices
Monday 5th July, 1999. 8.15am.
Breakfast in the Leidenstraum household was always consumed sat at the oval-shaped mahogany table in the dining room. A grainy photograph of the family of four hung on the wall in a large, brown frame. It was perfectly placed to watch over the table. Will loved and hated the photograph in equal measure. He loved seeing them all together, which predated his own earliest memories, but he despised the bright green romper suit populated with teddy bears his parents had chosen for him to wear that day.
Sarah and Will’s mother adored the table in the dining room. She had convinced their father to spend five hundred pounds on it at a specialist furniture store in Abingdon. They had suggested to their father it was time for something more fashionable, but he’d refuted the idea. He had joked it was because he wanted to continue to get his money’s worth. The look in his eye suggested he just couldn’t bear to part with it.
Will was sat at the table eating cereal and drinking a glass of orange juice. His sister joined him with a slice of toast smothered in marmalade and a steaming hot black coffee.
“Be careful not to spill your coffee, sis, this table cost five hundred pounds,” Will said and chuckled.
Sarah smiled. “Dad did love talking about how much this table cost, didn’t he? I think he begrudged her that five hundred pounds. He probably wanted to use the money towards buying a new car.”
Their gentle reminiscence was interrupted by the faint sound of a phone ringing and vibrating. The sound appeared to be coming from a drawer in a tall wooden cabinet stood to the right of the picture frame. They looked at each other bemusedly. Will opened the draw and answered the phone.
“Hello Dr Leidenstraum. How are you this morning?”
“Hello. It’s his son Will here.”
“Oh. Well may I speak with your father please?”
“Who is speaking please?”
“I’m a friend. My name’s John.”
“Well John. I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid my father passed away on Saturday.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss, Will.” The phone then went dead.
“Hello? Hello…?”
“Who was that?”
“A friend of dad’s called John.”
The phone then beeped. It was a text message.
John: “Meet me outside the cathedral at eleven thirty. Don’t be late.”
“This is odd. What are we going to do?” Will said.
“Nothing. Aunt Janice is coming this morning and we’re going to make the funeral arrangements. Reply to this John and tell him that.”
Will drafted the message as per his sister’s instructions and sent it to John.
The phone immediately beeped in response.
John: “Warehouse.”
Sarah and Will stared at each other in shock and Will began to panic.
“Oh my god. Who is this guy calling himself John? How the hell does he know about the warehouse? This is freaking me out. We’re going to have to meet him.”
“No, we can’t. Please try and stay calm, Will. Tell him we’ll contact him later after we’ve sorted everything out and once aunt Janice has left. We’ll then arrange to meet him.”
Will: “John. This is going to have to wait until later.”
They paused for a few moments in anticipation, but a response was not forthcoming. The doorbell then rang. It was Aunt Janice, their mum’s sister.
“I’m so sorry, you two. Come here and give your Aunt Janice a big hug.” Janice was fifty-three years-old, medium height, very overweight, with curly dark brown hair; she was twice divorced with no children. Janice was a fun-loving and a deeply caring person, but somewhat naïve. Individually, Sarah and Will had both been very close to their aunt growing up and were relieved to see her.
They talked things over and Janice offered to assist with the plans and reduce the burden for them as much as possible. Janice went out to her car to bring in her suitcase and bags as she’d planned to stay with Sarah and Will for a few days. Whilst Janice was doing this, the phone rang and Will answered it. It was John.
“Who is the fat woman collecting her belongings from the Punto?”
“How dare you talk about my Aunt Janice like that. Wait a minute. How do you…?” The phone then went dead. Will looked at his sister with sheer terror.
“AUNT JANICE,” they both said, and ran outside to see a man approaching their aunt.
“Hello. Is it Janice?” John said. He was a tall man of athletic build, middle aged with receding blonde hair and the facial features of an inquisitive hamster. He was immaculately dressed in a light grey suit, white shirt and claret coloured tie with pristine brown shoes.
Janice turned around and smiled. “Yes. Do I know you dear?”
“No. I’m John, a friend of Dr… I’m a friend of Robert’s. He’d talked about you and I’d seen some old photos. I’ve come to pass on my condolences to Sarah and Will.” Both stood on the driveway looking anxiously at John, alarmed by what was going to happen next.
“Come in, I’ll make you a nice cup of tea or coffee,” Janice said.
“A coffee would be lovely, thank you. Milk and one sugar please.” John offered his sympathies to Sarah and Will; their faces were etched with fear and apprehension. Whilst Janice made the drinks, Sarah and Will accompanied John into the lounge.
“You’re in danger. I’m concerned your father’s death wasn’t an accident. Stay away from the warehouse until I tell you otherwise –” he cut short what he was saying as Janice walked in with the drinks and asked John how he knew Robert.
“Through the medical profession. He was a great man who will be sorely missed. You don’t have any biscuits, do you? Sorry to be a pain.”
“Yes, we’ve got some digestives,” Sarah said.
“Wonderful. They’re my favourite.”
“I’ll get them,” Janice said.
“They’re in the cupboard next to the fridge, Aunt Janice,” Sarah said.
“Clearly, I can’t get into this right now with your aunt here, but I need to speak to you as soon as possible. Please give me a call.” John stood up to leave.
“What about your biscuits, dear?” Janice said as she returned to the lounge.
“I’m going to have to run, unfortunately, but I’ll gladly take two with me, or maybe three. Thank you very much for your hospitality.” John nodded at Sarah and Will as he departed.
“What a lovely man,” Janice said. Sarah and Will remained silent, unsure what to make of their surprise visitor. The trio then commenced the task of formalising funeral arrangements.
Later, Janice suggested she go shopping to get some food for the next few days.
“I won’t be too long,” Janice said. As she left, she noticed an envelope addressed to Sarah and Will lying on the porch floor. “There’s a letter for you two. I’ll put it on the table.”
“Thanks,” Sarah said as she and Will discussed calling John.
“We’ve got to find out more from him about what’s going on,” Will said.
“I agree, but he seriously scared me. He had a strange demeanour about him.”
“I’m going to call him.” Will dialled the number. As he did so, Sarah opened the envelope.
“Will, it’s a letter from John. He must have left it on his way out.”
At that point, Will’s call was accepted. “Hi John.” Much to Will’s surprise, a female voice answered.
“Where’s John? Who are you?”
“I’m John’s colleague, Rachel, John’s busy.”
Sarah glanced intermittently at her brother, trying to establish what was happening whilst continuing to read the letter.
“Ok, well we’re supposed to be arranging to meet with John.”
“You can arrange to meet with me instead.”
Sarah finished reading the letter and waved it at Will in a frenzy. The letter read: ‘Don’t speak to anyone else except me. If you receive contact from anyone else, don’t trust them. If you contact me and reach someone else it means I’m in trouble. Do what you can to help me, but please don’t endanger yourselves.’
“O… ok… Rachel…. Yes…. I guess we’d better meet you,” Will said, whilst trying to digest the information.
“Meet me at the coffee shop with the blue sign on the High St in an hour. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, ok. We will see you there, Rachel.” The phone line went dead.
“I thought I was scared, now I’m petrified. Do you think we should be meeting her?” Sarah said.
“I’m not sure what choice we have, sis.”
Sarah and Will left a note for Aunt Janice and went to the coffee shop. They sat next to each other at the furthest table in the far left-hand corner of the shop. They sat facing the front door of the shop, with Will sat nearest the wall. There were about a dozen customers inside and two busy staff behind the counter. The toilets were on the opposite side of the shop. Sarah and Will were sufficient distance from prying ears. Will fidgeted nervously. He leaned on the edge of the table, accidentally smearing his arm with the remnants of a custard cream slice messily discarded by a previous patron.
“For goodness’ sake, Will. Please watch what you’re doing,” Sarah said and handed him a tissue from her bag.
“It’s not my fault the table is dirty, is it?” Will said as he wiped his arm.
“Keep your voice down. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves because of a bit of cake.”
A thirtysomething, tall, attractive female with flawless skin, finely plucked eyebrows, and pearly whit teeth entered the shop. She had rich and luscious dark hair. She wore a designer black suit. The fashion choice combined with her stern and humourless demeanour conveyed the appearance of an upmarket undertaker who had become separated from the cortege.
Rachel surveyed the shop with her ocean blue eyes. The way Sarah and Will stared at her gave themselves away immediately. That and the fact none of the other patrons were a day under thirty-five. Apart from a little boy in a pushchair nursing a rusk as his mum chatted on a mobile phone. Rachel walked over and sat down opposite Sarah.
“Where’s John? How do we know we can trust you?” Will said. He was more scared than his sister, but desperate not to show it.
“A simple hello would have been a start. I’ll get him on the phone if that puts your mind at ease.”
“Hi John, it’s Rachel.” She passed the phone to Will.
“Hi John, it’s Will. Are you ok?”
“Hi Will.” Will felt relieved to hear John’s voice, but then considered he didn’t know John any more than he knew Rachel and remained guarded.
“We found your note, John.”
“Yes. Sorry I was being very cautious. I wanted to make sure that should anyone contact you, you would be wary and challenge it. I’m sorry my colleague Rachel has had to meet with you in my place. I’m dealing with some urgent business. I’m sure you understand?”
“Ok John. No worries.”
“Rachel will explain everything. I’ll see you soon.” The phone call ended.
Sarah and Will looked at Rachel with trepidation.
“Your father’s work had obviously been kept top secret, but unfortunately there’s been a leak. It is thought a security cleared IT contractor sold details of your father’s work to a rogue foreign state. We’ve found out about it and need to protect you, as well as the important work your father was involved in.”
“Rogue foreign state? What are you trying to say, that Saddam Hussein is after us?” Will said.
“Not quite, but you need to be aware that you’re likely to be targeted as they don’t appear to know the location of the warehouse.”
Janice loved her Punto. It was a shade of purple, subject of a few repairs, and had clearly seen better days. Janice recognised the Punto was in many ways a reflection of herself. As she parked on the pebble driveway in front of the white garage door, Janice was completely unaware her every move was being watched. Janice unloaded the shopping from the car, but felt uncomfortable as she became aware of someone approaching her. She turned around. It was John.
“Hello John, you startled me.”
“Sorry to frighten you, Janice. I can’t find my wallet and thought I may have left it here earlier on today. I couldn’t have a look for it could I?”
“Of course, you can, John. You don’t need my help do you? I’d like to help but–”
‘No, I don’t need any help thank you. You focus on unloading the shopping.”
They entered the house and John headed straight for the study. He rifled around, but was disturbed by Janice.
“What are you doing? You didn’t go in here earlier. Why would your wallet be in here?”
“I didn’t, did I? Silly me,” John said, as an angry expression covered his face. They walked out of the room with John behind Janice. He reached into his pocket.
Rachel sipped her strongly caffeinated beverage, leaving a bright red lipstick mark on the side of her cup.
“I do love an espresso,” Rachel said.
“If we’re in danger, what are we going to do?” Sarah said. She didn’t want to appear rude, but this wasn’t the time for a polite conversation about coffee.
“Don’t worry we will take steps to protect you.”
“What about Aunt Janice? She’s at our house. She could be in danger,” Will said.
As Rachel was poised to answer, the sound of sirens could be heard approaching, followed by the screeching of tyres as several vehicles pulled up outside the café. Rachel jumped to her feet.
“Oh my god they’ve found us. Quickly, follow me to the fire exit.” Sarah and Will did as Rachel instructed. As Rachel burst through the door, she was apprehended by uniformed police officers, wrestled to the ground, and placed in handcuffs. Sarah and Will froze and placed their hands compliantly in the air.
“William and Sarah Leidenstraum?” A female wearing a stab proof vest with her fist clenched firmly around the baton extended by her side said. “I’m Detective Sergeant Clare Stevens from Oxfordshire Constabulary. We need to have a chat. You can put your hands down.” Clare Stevens was short to medium height and of slim build. She had a strong Scottish accent and possessed a facial expression and demeanour that would send a rottweiler into retreat. She had cold, squinting eyes, a convex nose, and nicotine-stained, uneven teeth. She exuded an aggressive authority and evidently commanded respect.
Sarah and Will looked at each other puzzled, stunned, and scared. They gradually lowered their hands.
“It’s such sad news about my brother-in-law, John. I guess you just never know when your time is up,” Janice said whilst walking to the kitchen.
John retrieved a taser from his pocket. He was about to strike Janice when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Janice said turning to look at John as John hurriedly hid the taser behind his back. Janice answered the door to two uniformed police officers as John scurried out of view behind the kitchen door.
“Hi, madam. There’s been an incident involving Sarah and William and we’re here to make sure everything is ok,” one of the officers said.
“Incident. Are they alright?”
“Yes, they’re absolutely fine. Please put your mind at ease.”
“Well, I’m fine, thank you. There’s just John here looking for his wallet,” Janice said, blissfully unaware of the peril the knock at the door had saved her from.
Both officers looked at each other anxiously upon hearing this and reached for their batons. One officer spoke into his radio. “Female at the location is safe and well. A possible suspect may still be at the premises,” he said.
John listened intently from the kitchen as he desperately contemplated his next move. He noticed a key was in the back door. He slowly turned it to unlock and gently pulled the handle down, ensuring he made as little noise as possible. John darted down the side passageway into the back garden, and ran as fast as he could along the recently mowed lawn towards the rear fence, which he climbed with the vigour of an army recruit tackling an assault course.
As one of the officers entered the kitchen, he saw the open door and looked through the kitchen window at the exact same moment as John’s legs cleared the fence. He was then able to make good his escape along the alleyway behind the fence.
“HE’S GOT AWAY,” the officer said.
A frustrated DS Stevens heard this on the radio. “Ok, secure the scene and wait for another car to collect the female,” she responded. She informed Sarah and Will that their aunt was ok and they would be taken to the station to be spoken to.
Officers provided Janice with vague information about what had happened and questioned her about John. All three were unaware that John was now in the vicinity of the front of the house. He carefully entered his car parked opposite, desperately trying not to attract attention. He reached into the glove compartment for his gun and contemplated returning to the house, even with the officers in attendance.
As John was about to step out from his car, another marked police car appeared in his rear-view mirror, drove past his vehicle, and parked a short distance in front of him. He hid from view as two visibly armed officers got out of their vehicle and rushed towards the house, where one of the officers present let them in.
John concluded the situation was now too risky and instead seized the opportunity to get away. He started his engine, which alerted officers in the house. Janice looked out of the window.
“That’s him. That’s John.”
The armed officers rushed outside towards their vehicle as John sped away. They identified the registration details of the vehicle and commenced pursuit, but they were too far behind and quickly lost his trail. John had escaped.
In a car on the way to the station, Stevens heard the news. “I don’t believe it,” Stevens said, and punched the steering wheel in annoyance. “ALL UNITS IN THE LOCAL AREA, FOCUS ON FINDING THAT CAR NOW,” Stevens transmitted across the radio. Sarah and Will looked at each other, both equally scared and bemused by the rapidly unravelling circumstances they found themselves in.
Stevens turned to Sarah and Will. “Everything will be ok. We’ll get things sorted. Try not to worry.” The tone in Stevens’ voice and feigned look of hope in her eyes did very little to reassure them.
Sarah and Will were led through a corridor to a small room with a brown windowless door. The door had a small silver-coloured sign in the middle of it, with ‘Witnesses’ inscribed in black letters.
“I’ve never been in a police station before. It really does look just like Sun Hill Station on The Bill,” Will said.
Stevens rolled her eyes. “Most offices look the same, William; this is just an office with people who wear a uniform. Please take a seat,” Stevens said and closed the door behind them.
Sarah and Will again sat next to each other facing the door; Stevens remained on her feet. The table was somewhat sturdier than the one in the coffee shop. Will instinctively checked the table for cream; he wasn’t going to make that mistake twice in the same day.
The door opened and in walked Janice. Sarah and Will both jumped to their feet at the sight of their aunt. They hugged her tightly. Janice was still none the wiser about the facts surrounding the unfolding drama.
“I’m glad you’re both ok. What on earth is going on?” Janice said.
Stevens interrupted the reunion, introduced herself to Janice and shook her hand.
“I’m Detective Sergeant Stevens, Clare Stevens, and I need to speak to Sarah and Will privately. There’s been some confusion around some of Dr Leidenstraum… Robert’s work, and where he kept some keys to his laboratory. Nothing to be concerned about.”
“Ok dear,” Janice said, as she was ushered away by some other officers and taken to another room.
“Tell me what you know of your father’s work, then I’ll explain to you what’s happening and what will happen next.”
“He’s been making human-robot hybrids that are clones of real humans and keeping them in a warehouse. We don’t know a lot more than that,” Will said, resigned to the fact the truth had to emerge.
“It’s been going on for a very long time, since the eighties,” Sarah said. “My father’s not a bad man, is he? Please tell me he’s not?”
Stevens took a deep breath. “I’ll give you both a full overview of events. You will have to decide for yourselves the ethics and morality of your father and his work. I’d be grateful if you could save any questions you have until the end.” Stevens proceeded to read from a briefing document:
“Dr Robert Leidenstraum was commissioned by the British Government in nineteen eighty to be a long-term scientific advisor in the development of interactive technology and software. This was with the objective of assisting humans in overcoming a variety of medical conditions and ailments. He would be a leading specialist in his field which would be known as biotechphilanthropical studies.”
Sarah and Will raised their eyebrows. “No, me either,” Stevens acknowledged.
“Dr Leidenstraum has conducted research and produced numerous papers for official purposes within government, scientific and medical circles. What he didn’t communicate was that he had been conducting experiments outside of the scope of his brief for many years. In recent times some of your father’s conclusions had drawn scepticism from other experts in medical, scientific, and technological fields and suspicion was raised as to how he was generating the results of his research. A top-secret undercover investigation was launched into your father. You’ll appreciate that due to the sensitivity of the operation not many people were aware of it. However, rumours of a leak within the investigation started to circulate and a counter investigation was initiated which established that details of your father’s work and the existence of a warehouse/laboratory had become known by, shall we say, hostile countries who would be interested in these developments. The counter investigation established that the man you know as John, he himself a scientific advisor to the top-secret investigation, was likely responsible for the leak. At this point, we don’t know if he’s been paid for this or how he came to leak the information. Investigations into John have so far led us to the female you know as Rachel, but nobody else. The plan was to allow John to contact your father and take it from there, but your father’s death has altered events and leaves you and the legacy of his work vulnerable to exploitation by dangerous individuals. Had your father survived, we would have been looking to arrest him for his actions.”
“What happens now and what about his funeral?” Sarah said, as tears streamed down her face.
“We need to protect you and those closest to you, including at the funeral. We will take all necessary steps to do so.”
“Once John found out dad was dead, why did he come to the house?” Will said.
“At the moment our working hypothesis is that John hadn’t managed to establish the location of the warehouse. He was trying to obtain information about that and anything else of significance to your father’s work. We’re going to keep you in an apartment and you will have security twenty-four hours a day. Your home will remain under armed guard. We’ll also be looking to put in plans to covertly guard the warehouse once we know where it is.”
Sarah and Will looked at each other and nodded. “We know where it is,” they said.
“Ok, I’ll talk to you about that later. In the meantime, I can arrange for some of your things to be collected, but you won’t be able to go back home for the foreseeable future. I know this must be difficult for you, but I’m sure you’ll appreciate your safety is paramount.”
“What about Aunt Janice?” Will said.
“She’s going to be taken to her own house and will have officers covertly monitoring her address. She mustn’t be told what’s going on. The less she or anyone else knows the better. We’ll let you speak to her on the phone later.”
Sarah and Will were then taken to an underground car park at the station, placed into an unmarked van and escorted to the secret location.
In a quiet street near a country park, in a neighbouring town, a male sat anxiously in his car. His face and body were drenched in sweat. Tears filled his eyes. It was John. He took a photo from his wallet of a woman and two children. “I love you. I’m sorry,” he whispered tenderly. A solitary tear dripped onto the photo. He reminisced about the many times he’d parked in this street to take his family to the park. His children loved the adventure play area almost as much as the sound of the ice cream van that inevitably appeared on cue, much to the delight of the swathes of children playing joyously. John was partial to a ninety-nine with raspberry sauce himself. Would he ever come here and buy his family ice cream again? Then his phone rang. His eyes widened with fear.
“Hello. Who is this?” his voice trembled.
“John, I’m not sure if you know, but Rachel has been detained. I hope you have obtained the information we require?” a male voice said.
“No, the police turned up. I was fortunate to get away without being arrested.”
“This isn’t good enough, John. I’m going to give you two days to resolve or else.”
“Two days. How?” The phone line went dead.
John head-butted the steering wheel of the car four times in sheer frustration. He then received a text message from a number he didn’t recognise which read:
Unknown: “To help you with your mission. Meet me at the coffee shop on Argyll Street tomorrow morning at nine. Don’t be late.”
Magnolia paint covered every wall of the sparsely furnished, but sizeable apartment. It had a cosy kitchen diner with white table and chairs which camouflaged into the matching clinical kitchen cupboards, work tops, and electrical goods.
“It could be quite a nice apartment, this,” Sarah said. “With some different paint on the walls, and maybe some wallpaper and some pictures. The police protection budget clearly doesn’t stretch far where furniture is concerned.”
“I don’t care about the colour of the paint and the fact there’s no coffee table. I can’t believe we’re stuck here, it’s ridiculous,” Will said as he paced up and down the lounge.
“What else did you expect from dad pretending to be a modern-day Frankenstein? You thought it was cool and exciting him playing God. And you, trying to impress him by helping him. I just wish he were her to experience this, I just wish he was here.”
Sarah held her head in her hands and cried what little tears she had left. Will hugged his sister; their father’s death seemingly continuing to bring them closer together than ever before.