is furnished and doesn’t appear to be in use. I work my way along the corridor, checking each room, and every one is similar and similarly unused.
I hope for better luck the other way and turn back to try the corridor that heads left from the top of the stairs into the area that Celia hadn’t managed to re-create in the mock-up.
I listen at the first door but there are no sounds except the hiss of phones. That hiss fills the building: there’re lots of people with phones, and lots of computers and electrical equipment. I try the handle and it opens. The room beyond is a large book-lined study. There’s an old leather briefcase by the side of a wooden desk and a coat thrown over the back of a leather armchair. No one is in here but there’s a door to another room. I go to that and listen again. I can hear music. Classical music.
I’m fairly sure that whoever owns the coat is in the room with the music and there has to be a good chance that the owner is Wallend. But I want to get close to him without raising the alarm and I want to find out how many other people there are on this floor.
I go out and try the next door along the corridor. This opens to a smaller office, with a desk and chair, shelves and a small sofa, and some personal things: papers, a laptop, and a handbag. This office also has a door leading to another room, and from it I can hear the classical music again. I think this door leads to the same place as the door in Wallend’s office.
I carry on with my check of the corridor, speeding up now. The next door is locked but Mercury’s pin opens it easily and I find another unused office. There’s one door left to check. There are no sounds coming from behind it. I use Mercury’s pin and enter.
This is not an unused office.
There are three gurneys, each with a gray cloth over them, and their shape indicates that a body lies beneath each one.
I go to the first and pull the sheet back. It’s a woman. Brown hair, eyes open, staring, no glints in them. Her skin is pale. She has a tattoo on her neck: W 1.0. As I pull the sheet further back, I see that her chest is open. There is no blood—that has all been taken out and, as far as I can see, so has her heart. I look at her hands to see if she has similar tattoos to me. Her little finger has a single tattoo on the side of it: W 1.0.
I go to the next body. This is also a woman, black-skinned but mutilated the same way as the first.
The last body is different. It’s a girl. She can’t be more than eleven or twelve. She has a tattoo on her neck and finger as well, and her chest is also open.
The room itself is cold. Very cold. The walls are lined with shelves and bottles that seem to contain parts taken out of these victims. There’s drawers of surgical equipment.
There is also a door to another room. I go and listen. Nothing. No music.
I try the knob and am surprised that it’s not locked. I go in.
The room is vast and contains rows of metal shelves, each protected by a glass door. And on each shelf, bottles. And in each bottle . . . parts of bodies. I slide a glass door back and pick one up to check. In the bottle is something fleshy and dark. I think it might be a liver. It has W 1.0 tattooed on it.
I go to the door at the far end of the room and, yes, at this door I can hear the classical music. I’m sure Wallend and his assistant are inside but there may be guards too. And I know the chances of me getting into this room without Wallend noticing something are slim, so my options are limited. I need to move quickly. But I don’t want to raise the alarm if I can avoid it.
I retrace my steps to Wallend’s office, making sure the doors are locked behind me. I don’t want anyone to run and escape this way. Back in Wallend’s office I go to the door in the far wall and listen for the music but a man’s talking now, though he’s not