Teeth of the Wolf

Teeth of the Wolf ebook-14-3

- Pandora -

“That only explains the car—”

Cerberus howls. The big dog’s on his feet and running, nails scratching on the floor. Like a crazed berserker, he skids around the corner towards the lab.

“Cerberus.”

Penny dashes after him. The lab is no place for an anxious pooch. It’s dangerous in there. There are glass flasks, reagents…

She turns the corner and stops. The BreadMaker™! Her assay! Clouds of grey-green smoke stream from under the lid, the machine’s stop-alert whining like a badly played violin, its troubleshooting light blinking over and over, RED-RED-RED-RED-RED. The place reeks of rotting eggs.

No!

The smoke and stench are driving Cerberus wild. With his lips pulled back and teeth bared, the dog growls at the machine, hackles raised. He leaps up to snap at the lid, canines closing down hard on a curl of smoke. His spine twists and he falls back, yelping.

The smoke alarm starts screeching.

Sulphurous gases stinging her eyes, Penny scrubs away tears. Her head pounds with noise. They should evacuate the building. Now. Yet Penny can’t help hesitating. Her Breadmaker™! If that goes up in smoke, she can kiss the police work goodbye. It’ll be back to routine algae samples and monthly Prothrombin Clotting Time tests. The lab will go under. If there’s any chance of salvaging that machine…

I have to turn it off.

She lifts the collar of her lab coat over her nose and mouth and rushes forward, shrieking over the din, “Matiu, get Cerberus out of here!”

Back on his feet, the dog is having none of it. Forcing his bulk between Penny and the machine, the big Lab throws his head back and howls like a wolf, a chilling marrow-shrinking note that carries over the shrill of the alarm.

Out of my way, Cerberus!

But, acting like a true Hound of Hades, Cerberus refuses to let her pass. He tosses his head and snaps at her, saliva dripping from his bared teeth.

“Cerberus, come on, let me through,” Penny mutters. The dog’s going ape s**t. Won’t let her near the control panel.

“Matiu, help me,” Penny screams. Where the hell is he anyway? She glances back and he’s just standing there, eyes glazed as if he’s in another world, as if he’s just woken from a nightmare. He stares at the Breadmaker™, his face contorted in pain.

Taking a step back, Penny grabs his arm. Gives it a yank. “Matiu, what the f**k! Snap out of it. Take Cerberus, and get the hell out of here.”

And suddenly he’s back: one hand grabbing Penny by the lab coat, and the other on Cerberus’ collar, hauling them both away. “Let’s go,” he shouts.

“No, not me! I can’t. I have to stop the machine.” She twists in his grip just as Cerberus lunges. Matiu can’t hold them both. He chooses Cerberus, allowing Penny to slip out of his grasp. She dashes for the Breadmaker™, coughing gas, and punches in the abort code. Why isn’t it working? The troubleshooter alert is still blinking red. The smoke’s still leaching from under the lid, filling the lab with its rotten egg fumes. She has to stop it. Blinking back tears, she punches the code again.

RED-RED-RED…

Again.

Penny could scream with frustration. Stop!

Then Matiu is there, yanking the power cord out of the socket. One more step, and he throws the fire alarm to off, sending the automatic FALSE CALL message to the Fire Service. Within seconds, the machine and the alarm wind down to silence.

Penny’s head keeps pounding. Why hadn’t she thought to stop it at the source? With one hand still grasping a slobbering Cerberus, it’s what Matiu must be thinking too because he looks at her as if to say, ‘what the heck?’, but Penny hasn’t got time for explanations. That gas could be toxic. Who knows what it’s doing to their lungs? She runs to the windows and flings them open. Switches on the fume hoods. Sets the extractor fans to Def Con 1. Then buries her face behind her collar again. Seconds tick past. At last, the smoke dissipates, albeit leaving behind its putrefying stench.

“I swear, there’s something seriously wrong with this machine,” Penny says when the smoke has all but cleared. She wipes her forehead with the back of her arm. “That’s the second time it’s malfunctioned this month. I should drag out the warranty: get the manufacturer to check it out. Still, I’m glad we caught it before it made a bigger mess.”

Matiu snorts. “Yeah, just lucky, I guess.”

Now that the noise and the smell have died down and Cerberus is calmer, Matiu releases him. The dog pads over to Penny and sits, kneading the floor at her feet. Poor baby. He’s looking for reassurance. Penny’s heart lurches. He thinks he’s done something wrong. Crouching, she puts an arm around his neck and gives him a good scratch under his chin. Sure, he slowed her down, got in the way, but Penny isn’t mad at him. He’d sensed a threat and tried to protect her from it, and not for the first time either. Cerberus braved a burning building for her once; since then she’s been inclined to trust his instincts. “You’re a good boy, Cerberus. Everything’s going to be fine now,” she murmurs.

Cerberus whimpers and trembles under her fingers—the drifting fumes still making him jittery—so she carries on a little longer.

Matiu’s phone rings. “Hey, bro, yeah. Sorry, had a little emergency, just as I dialled your number, you know how it goes. Anyway, I got a favour to ask.” Turning his back on Penny, he strides out the fire doors towards the office.

Good. That should give her a few minutes to take a look at the machine.

Giving Cerberus a last pat, she stands up, and, taking a pair of silicone gloves from a hook on the end of the bench, slips them on. The dog watches her, growling softly as she approaches the Breadkmaker™.

“Shhh. It’s OK. I’m just taking a quick look. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Holding her breath, she lifts the lid. Just as well too, because a last puff of noxious gas whooshes out. Cerberus gives a little whine.

“Shhh,” she says again.

Inside, the cuvette is still intact. She lifts it out and holds it to the light. At the bottom of the crucible the sample resembles the blackened flesh of a rotting walnut. The dark mass is puckered and misshapen as if the machine has chewed on the sample, and, finding it indigestible, spat it out. And the results? She can’t risk turning the machine back on just yet, so a digital readout is out of the question. But the machine is loaded with paper coated in Bisphenol A, which makes it heat-resistant, so there’s a chance…

Penny checks over her shoulder. Matiu’s voice carries from the office. “If you find anything, send it through…”

He’s still talking. She has time. She un-clips the machine casing and unwinds the feed. The paper is crumpled but intact. Her pulse skips a beat as she scans the results. What? Those sugars. She closes her eyes and opens them again in case the gas is affecting her.

This can’t be right.

Cerberus whines again. He edges towards her, his nails clicking.

Using the blade to tear off the read-out, Penny throws a furtive glance towards the office. “We’re not going to tell Matiu about this,” she whispers to Cerberus. “Not until I’ve worked it out, OK? So, if he asks, I’m counting on you to keep schtum.”

The dog gives a low growl.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Matiu is finishing up his call. Quick. Cramming the read-out into her pocket, she throws the immolated sample into the Hazardous Waste, then strips off the gloves and throws them in after it.

She lets her fingers brush the top of Cerberus’ head on the way to the office. “Not a word, remember.” Closing the fire doors on the stink in the lab. “Who was that on the phone?”

Pocketing the device, Matiu shakes his head. “Just someone I know.”

“Sure.” Penny veers towards the wet-room.

“Where are you going?”

“Shower. I’ve got a date in an hour.”

“A date? Who with?”

Penny doesn’t look back. “Just someone I know.”

“Come on. Stop being all huffy. We both know you don’t have a date.”

Penny spins on him. “Oh really? I can’t possibly have a date? Nothing for little Pandora but her lab and her samples and her cleaning wipes, is that how it is? I’m so wedded to my lab, I’m supposed to marry a beaker and have little test tube babies?”

“Umm…” Matiu trails off.

Penny’s face burns. “I didn’t mean Beaker, I meant, you know, a glass beaker, and little test tubes for babies instead of little people, and—”

Her phone rings. Saved by the bell. She checks the screen. Toeva Clark.

Maybe not.

“It’s Clark!” She paces the length of the office. “He knows I’ve lost the body. How could I be so stupid? The first bog body ever found in New Zealand. I’ll lose the contract, the lab, everything…”

“Penny, calm down. How can he know? I doubt your thieves will have phoned it in.”

“Then what’s he calling me for?”

Grimacing, Matiu gives a half shrug. “You won’t know until you answer it, will you?”

Penny gives him a glare. She hates it when he’s all logical. She takes a deep breath and swipes the phone on. “Officer Clark. Sorry, I was meant to get back to you about the cordon. I’m not going to get back to Little Shoal today.”

“That’s fine. Tanner made us pack up a couple of hours ago.”

“He did? Oh. Then what can I do for you? Please don’t tell me there’s been another murder. Haha. I’ve only just got back into the lab after wading thigh-deep through the mud at Karaka,” she jokes.

There’s silence.

“Clark?”

The police officer coughs quietly. “Actually, there has been another murder.”

Penny swallows. “Oh no.”

“Yep. Afraid so. Brings the current tally to nineteen for the jurisdiction. Detective Inspector Tanner is hitting the roof.”

“And here’s me being flippant. I’m so sorry. Does Tanner want me to consult on this one, too?”

“No, not this one. There could be a conflict of interest.”

A conflict of interest? “I don’t see how—”

“That’s why I’m calling. I was wondering if your brother is with you?”

Penny’s hackles rise. Just because Matiu has a conviction, they suspect him of everything. He can’t be everywhere; he’s not a Time Lord, for goodness’ sake. “Yes, Matiu’s here,” she says coolly. “But I really don’t see what it would have to do with him.”

“The dead man is a former acquaintance of your brother’s—a fellow known as Screech.”

“Screech? I don’t know him, and I’m quite certain Matiu hasn’t seen him today or any day. I know it’s hard to believe, but Matiu’s made a clean break from that life, Officer.”

Hearing his name spoken, Matiu stands up and takes a step towards her. Penny places her palm on his chest, holding him back. “All he wants to do is put all that behind him…” she says.

Matiu yanks the phone out of her hands.

“Clark. Yee, here.”

What the heck? Penny tries to snatch the phone back, but Matiu turns away from her, blocking her out. She runs around him. “Matiu,” she hisses, her hands on her hips.

Matiu sighs. The phone held painfully above his head, he switches it to speaker, then puts a finger to his lips. His meaning is clear: she can listen, but she has to shut up.

Penny doesn’t like it; she nods anyway.

“Did you happen to see Will Strickland earlier today?” Clark asks, his voice sounding tinny and far off.

“Yes sir, I did,” Matiu replies.

Penny’s heart skids. He did? When? Matiu, what the hell have you done? Her legs wobbly, she sits heavily on the office sofa.