We walked to the police station together the next morning, bearing coffee from our new caffeine haunt, plus a packet of chocolate chip cookies. When we were in the office, we did an exchange: one coffee for Alex and a handful of cookies, one coffee for me and the rest of the packet.
Alex dropped a kiss on my forehead. "By the way, have you seen the article about us on Xplora?"
"No." I held a biscuit between my teeth, dumped the rest on my desk, and threw my bag underneath it. "Is it about the press conference?"
"There are loads of articles about the press conference. But someone noticed our visit to The Silver Star last night."
I looked up. He let go of his tabphone so that it was hovering in front of me, and I glanced over the article on the screen.
It was an anonymous and illiterate piece without many likes, revealing little other than the basic fact that we'd been out for a date. It was accompanied by a high resolution shot -- photography was clearly more their forte -- of Alex and I leaning towards each other across the table. Alex was smiling. I was laughing at what he'd said to me.
Warmth flowed from my heart to my toes. "It's okay."
His gaze searched my face. "Really?"
"They didn't bother us while we were there -- we had a good time. And it wasn't written by Clyde, which means he wasn't stalking me. So it's fine."
Alex tucked his tabphone inside his jacket. "I wasn't expecting that."
"Maybe it's because you fed me chocolate before you broke the news." I smiled and tilted my head towards the door. "Now, we need to get kitted out and find Nora Fitzroy."
***
Sten was straight-lipped when he gave us our equipment, which put me on edge. I tried to focus my mind on other things during the tram journey to Nora Fitzroy's flat -- like finding the illiterate article and saving the accompanying picture to my tabphone without Alex noticing. I didn't want him to think I was sappy...but I didn't have a single photograph of us together.
Nora lived on Flicker Street just like her boss had. In fact, she lived in the same building, but on the next floor down. We found the right door and rang the bell. A round camera emerged from the wood.
"May we come in?" I asked.
The camera subtly scanned us to check that we weren't blocked from requesting access by the Fitzroys. Then the doorbell said, "Let me ask Petr and Nora."
A few seconds later, a man's voice came over the intercom. "Who is it?"
I held my warrant card up to the camera. "Inspector Rames and Sergeant Sullivan, Socrico Police."
"Come in."
The door swung open. We entered a plain hallway identical in design to Janet's but without the clutter. A man emerged from the other end, dressed casually in a navy jumper and jeans. He had thick, dark brown hair and a thin beard clinging to the edges of his chin. His equally dark eyes and the set of his face reminded me of a grizzly bear.
He shook hands first with me, then with Alex. "Petr Fitzroy. I'm assuming it's Nora you want to speak with?"
"Yes, sir," I said. "But I'd appreciate it if you were present as well."
"Of course." He stepped back into the room he'd emerged from. "Make yourselves comfortable."
We followed him into a kitchen that looked like a hurricane had blown through. The fat island counter in the middle was littered with blank paper, lined paper, graph paper, pens, tablets, and reading glasses. Two lines of counters stood on either side of it, and washing up was overflowing from the sink in the corner: wine glasses, plates, a greasy butter knife, a glass beaker, a tower of colourful mugs, and a mixing bowl. A full-length window straight ahead gave us an immersing view of a brick wall.
Nora was standing next to the sink, pouring hot water into two pastel-coloured mugs on the counter. She glanced over her shoulder as we entered and tucked her rumpled hair behind her ears. "Good morning. Tea?"
"No, thank you," I said.
Petr sat down at the island, and we took our places opposite him. Nora removed the teabags and added milk, then passed him one mug and settled down with the other. She held it level with her chest like a shield. Grief had given her visible wounds in the form of red, gritty eyes.
"Nora, we were hoping to ask you a few more questions," I said. "We tried calling you yesterday after you'd been sent home from work."
She glanced down. "Sorry, I only picked up my missed calls this morning. I had an appointment at the hospital. I needed a PET scan."
"Oh, right. I...hope it wasn't for anything too serious."
"It was a reassessment of my breast cancer."
"Oh." I was used to handling murder, but I found any other touchy topic just as awkward as the next Englander. "I'm sorry to hear that."
She lowered her mug so that it was resting on the island. "Don't be. I don't need chemo anymore. So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
Ah, the much more comfortable topic of murder. "What time did you leave the lab on Thursday?"
"Not long after five." She looked between us quizzically.
"You didn't clock out," Alex explained. "So we couldn't check the clocking machine records."
She blushed. "Oh, I'm afraid I do that all the time. The chemo's made me a bit forgetful."
"Can anyone confirm the time you left?" I asked.
"No. I was the last to go."
"But I can confirm what time she came home," Petr said. "About twenty past, maybe half-past five."
I turned to him. "You work at a pharmacy, don't you? What time did you finish?"
"Five. But it's only down the road. I always get home before Nora."
"Okay. Where were you both between seven and nine?"
"I was...with some friends at The Silver Star." Petr looked at Nora. "And you said you'd been watching a film, didn't you, love?"
"Yes." She smiled tightly. "I ordered a takeaway and watched a film. On my own."
"What film?" I asked.
Alex's lips twitched.
"The Immortal Star," Nora said.
I knew for a fact that film was available on Xplora. "We heard you'll be taking over Lonn's role now. I hope you understand that we might not have released the crime scene for you by Monday."
"Of...course." She frowned. "But how did you know about that?"
"Riannon told us."
"I see." Nora's face cleared. "I expect she's jealous?"
I decided to play into her hands and see where it got me. "Oh, yes. Very. Was she hoping for the role someday?"
"I don't know. She won't be surprised that it's been given to me -- she was always aware that I was her senior. But I think that awareness is her problem. It always felt like we were battling to see who could be the better assistant to Lonn."
"Why did Lonn need two assistants?" Alex asked.
"After my diagnosis, he thought I wouldn't be able to handle everything, so he decided Riannon should help me. If anything, her involvement exhausted me more. But he meant well..."
"And are you pleased that you'll be the head researcher of Lab S?"
Her eyes widened. "God, no! Not in these circumstances. Poor Lonn. I would never have wished this on him."
Petr glowered at us. "What kind of question is that?"
"But you were aspiring to be the head researcher one day?" I pressed.
"Yes," Nora admitted. "Petr's brother-in-law suffered from fatal familial insomnia, the disease we're researching. We lost him a few years ago. I've felt driven to make an impact in this field of research since his diagnosis."
"I'm sorry." I glanced at Petr again, but he looked away and glared at the wall. "Could you explain a little about what it is you actually do in the lab? You're finding a cure?"
"Yes. Fatal familial insomnia is an extremely rare genetically inherited prion disease caused by a mutation in the PRNP gene. The first recorded death was on the surface in seventeen sixty-five, but it still holds a lot of mystery even today. The reason why it's so devastating is that normal sleep has a lot of stages, but patients with this disease can't go past non-REM stage one -- that is, light sleep."
"So they struggle with insomnia and eventually cease sleeping at all," I chipped in.
Nora tilted her head. "Yes, that's right. The disease rears its head very suddenly, usually in adult life. There are actually four stages in its progress: stage one is insomnia abruptly setting in, stage two is when sleep deprivation causes hallucinations, stage three is when complete insomnia causes a limit in mental functioning, and stage four is when the patients experience dementia, followed by a coma and death."
"Jesus," Alex muttered. "It sounds like something from a horror film."
"It's one of the darkest diseases I've ever encountered," Nora said. "And definitely not one to be underestimated. After all, sleep deprivation has been used as a method of torture in the past. Even the dementia in stage four is cruel -- the patients still understand what's happening to them. They still feel the pain of months without sleep." She sighed. "We've been trying to focus on immunotherapy, but even with a few hundred years of research, we still haven't had any success."
"Riannon mentioned a project Lonn was working on that she thought was going to help you find the cure," I said. "Unfortunately, that project has gone missing."
Nora stared. "Really? Oh, no. I was hoping that I would be able to look at it on Monday and finally understand what he'd been doing..."
"What can you tell us about it?"
She sighed heavily. "Not much. Lonn wouldn't even tell me what it was, and we'd been friends for years. But, yes, we all speculated that it was going to be a big breakthrough for our cause. I believe Lonn was keeping it to himself because he wanted to make sure that he alone took the credit for whatever it was. Sometimes he lost sight of the idea that the other scientists working in our lab were part of a team."
"Was all of his work for the project kept in one folder?" I asked.
"I think so. It was the only folder I wasn't allowed to touch."
"When did you last see it?"
"The day he..." She swallowed thickly and looked away. "His last day."
"Who else could have had access to it? Did anyone other than you and Riannon spend time in his office?"
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Any member of the team could pop in there."
Not helpful. "Did he ever take the folder home?"
"I don't know."
Doubly not helpful. I looked at Alex, but he shook his head.
"Thank you, Nora." I stood up. "If you think of anything else -- or you happen to find the folder -- let us know."
"Of course." She looked at Petr. "Should I...?"
"No, no, you stay sitting down." Petr rose. "I'll show them out."
We followed him back into the hallway. I waited until he'd opened the door and we were over the threshold before I spoke again. "You were at The Silver Star with friends on Thursday, Petr?"
"How about we try one friend," Alex added, "called Riannon Sotello?"
Petr turned ashen. "How do you know?"
"Riannon told us," I said. "And a member of staff remembers seeing her with you, too. What time did you get there?"
He sighed heavily and leaned against the door frame. "Half eight."
"And you left at...?"
"Around about eleven."
I raised an eyebrow. "What then?"
"We went back to her place for a while. I didn't get home until the early hours of the morning." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, please don't tell my wife. I'm ready to break it off with Riannon. I don't love her. It's just that, since Nora's diagnosis, things have been difficult."
"You mean Riannon came with no strings attached," Alex said, "and a sex drive and stamina your sick wife didn't have."
Petr didn't reply.
"Before you went out, was Nora at home?" I asked.
"Yes. She was at home all night, I swear it!"
"What time did you leave the flat?"
"Quarter past eight."
"So you can't actually account for her movements between quarter past eight and nine?"
His jaw tightened, and he looked away. Shuffled his feet. "Well...no."