Déjà Vu: A Technothriller by Hocking, Ian (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📗

Saskia’s right arm rose too. She remained asleep. The airframe juddered and they began to decelerate. David stared at her. Her hair had fallen across her face. It was greasy. In their thirteen hours together, she had made no attempt to brush it or push it behind her ears. She was almost without vanity.

He looked through the window. It was still dark. In the east, the horizon was a chalky blue line. They had raced the sun and stretched the night to nineteen hours.

The juddering became worse and Saskia awoke. She wiped her mouth with a sleeve and looked around. She seemed to take in information in an oddly systematic way. David was reminded of an old film where a man lost the ability to form new memories. He had used instant photographs and body tattoos instead. He read and re-read them from moment to moment. Saskia looked at the ceiling: I’m in a plane. She looked down at her body: I’m Saskia Brandt. She looked at the handcuffs: I’m cuffed to someone. She looked at David: I’m cuffed to Professor Proctor.

David smiled. She did not smile back.

“We’re here,” David said.

“Is this Las Vegas?”

He wanted to ask, Do you know what Las Vegas is? Did you know it existed before you read your ticket? How do you feel about it? Can you name all the American states? but he said, “Yes.”

“I will remove the handcuffs soon,” she said.

“Thanks. I’m sorry about all of this.”

She smiled. “You’re English. You’re sorry about everything.”

They paused briefly for Saskia to make a phone call to Edinburgh. She didn’t say why. She couldn’t get through. They made their way through the terminal and came to a slot-machine parlour. Though it was 5:30 a.m., every machine in sight was occupied. Gamblers inserted their money, pulled the handle or pressed the button, and watched the result. Suitably reinforced, they repeated the process.

“Look at all the money,” Saskia said.

David nodded. The gamblers inserted dollar after dollar. While the rest of the developed world had made the transition from physical to electronic transactions – stored on a mobile phone, or a bankcard, or a personal computer – gamblers preferred cash. You needed to see physical money going in and money coming out. Mostly, thought David, going in.

They kept walking. Saskia said nothing more. David wanted to talk to her. Chat. He wanted her to know that there were no hard feelings. That it was a professional thing. That he couldn’t afford to be arrested. And that, Jesus, who could?

McCarran International was within walking distance of Las Vegas. They could see the casinos. The sky was cloudy and the soil was brown-yellow. The vegetation was a washed-out green.

David said, “Saskia, I need your help.”

She turned to him. There was far-away look in her eyes. “What is it?”

They stepped onto a moving walkway and stood shoulder to shoulder. David checked in front and behind for eavesdroppers. “How did you know I was going to America?”

Saskia pursed her lips. “I should not tell you that.”

David blurted, “But I told you my story.”

“Yes. A story. Remember that you have me under duress. I could call for help.”

David bristled. “You know what would happen if you did that.”

“And you know what would happen to you. You are surrounded by airport security. They are quite visible.”

“I would take my chances,” he said quietly. “I’ve got this far.”

“I accept that you do not intend any genuine harm towards me. Or, rather, that you would avoid it.”

“True. But remember that I’m a man with very little to lose.”

“Is that so? I would say, Professor Proctor, that, as a father, you have a great deal to lose.”

David’s fingers curled around the handle of the briefcase until the nail beds became white. “Don’t threaten my daughter, Detective, or I will harm you. Genuinely.”

Saskia said smugly, “The killer has a heart.”

“I am not a killer.”

“You have killed.”

“So have you.”

“We are,” said Saskia, “‘quits’ then, Professor. So, now that we have established each other’s qualifications, what help do you need?”

David was confused. He decided to ask his original question. “I need to know where Jennifer is. I think she’s wrapped up in the whole thing.”

“Whole thing?”

“The situation.”

“I know what ‘whole thing’ means, Professor,” Saskia snapped.

“Stop bloody calling me ‘Professor’,” David snapped back.

“Fine. You will not get my help.”

David raised his voice. “Jesus Christ…do you know where my daughter is or not?”

A armed security guard, who was leaning against a coke machine, gazed at them as they drifted past. David smiled with embarrassment, pointed at Saskia, and made a circle by his temple. The guard did nothing. Saskia watched the exchange contemptuously.

“You are stupid, not me.”

David stared at her. In the midst of his anger, he nearly gave Ego the command to deactivate her chip. He was a single breath from killing her. He stared at her a little longer.

“Saskia.” He touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry. As soon as I find Jennifer you will be free to leave. I promise.”

She adjusted her shoulder bag. “Do you want me to feel grateful?”

He was back in Northallerton. “Oh, I get it. You’re a hero. You’re going to go home to your little family in fucking Chelsea and brag about how you played Dr Bernardo up north.

“No, of course not.” He struggled to catch the right words. “Just…I’m doing what I’m doing for the right reasons.”

“As they seem to you.”

“Yes.”

Saskia pointed. “Watch out. The end of the walkway.”

They both stepped down. David followed the arrows and walked ahead of her. From the periphery of his vision, he watched her shadow.

“Fine,” she said. “I will help you find your daughter because it will aid my own release. I can tell you now that she is somewhere in the state of Nevada. That is all.”

“Great. That narrows it down to about a million square miles.”

A voice in his ear said, “Actually, 110, 567.”

“Thanks, Ego,” David replied acidly. “Ego, I don’t suppose you know where Jennifer is?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not. My information has been limited to the