The Trespass by Scott Hunter Read Free Book Online Page B

that’s all right with you,” Dracup said. “Now talk. What do you know about my daughter’s abduction?”
    Potzner shrugged. “Only what you’ve told me. I take it there’s no news?”
    Dracup leaned across the desk. “Is there a connection with the people who stole the diary? If there is, I need to know. For pity’s sake, Potzner, there’s a child’s life at stake here –”
    Potzner blew out air. “Actually there’s a great deal more at stake, Professor. And yeah, there may well be a connection, but I can’t see a motive.”
    Dracup slammed his fist on the desk. “I don’t know where to start looking. Turkey? Europe? America? I had the diary. Now it’s gone. I have nothing .” He slammed both fists down. The desk shook. He felt an overpowering weakness grip his body, and collapsed into the chair with his head in his hands.
    Potzner was unruffled. “I understand your position, Professor. You’re overwrought. You deserve a little enlightenment – strictly off the record, of course. I can’t tell you much, but you’ll recall our conversation in Aberdeen? About the missing artefact?”
    “Yes. Go on.”
    Potzner gave a little grunt. “I guess artefact is a misnomer. Firstly the artefact in question wasn’t man-made, and secondly it’s linked with state-of-the-art research going on back in the US. It must be recovered.”
    “Research into...?”
    “Longevity. The human life span.”
    Dracup nodded. Such research had a counterpart in the UK and he had a few contacts working in the field of gerontology.
    The American smiled. “I can guess what you’re thinking. No big deal. Everyone’s into it, right?”
    Dracup nodded impatiently, searching for relevance. “Yes. I was reading recently that our leading research labs have made some progress –”
    “Forget it,” Potzner interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m talking breakthrough here. No theories. This is the real McCoy.”
    “In what sense?”
    Potzner regarded the grey outlook from the office window. London was at work, traffic was sparse. The only movements in the street below were initiated by the odd passing taxi and the continually slanting rain. “I’m not a scientific person, Mr Dracup. I’m an outdoors man. Always have been.” He carefully replaced the unlit Winston in its packet with an expression of regret. “But I’ve taken a special interest in this research. It’s a subject close to my heart.”
    Dracup was fighting a losing battle with his patience. He gripped the chair arms tightly and made himself listen. At least Potzner was communicating.
    “You’ll no doubt be aware, Mr Dracup, that there are many theories as to why the body ages as it does,” Potzner continued.
    “Well, yes. There’s cell depletion and damage, DNA affecting chromosome degeneration, toxin intake – alcohol and nicotine being prime culprits –” Dracup waved at the red and white packet on the desk.
    Potzner was nodding, ignoring the slight. “I’m not surprised you know a little about this, Professor. But let me tell you, our guys in the white coats have long subscribed to the theory that there is some coded obsolescence built into our DNA structure.”
    “You mean we are all genetically programmed for the ageing process to kick off at a predetermined time?”
    “Exactly. It’s as though each of us comes into the world as a machine that is programmed to self-destruct.”
    “Ah. The ticking of the biological clock. Time to have sex, time to have babies, time to buy a pipe and a pair of slippers. Time to pop off.” Dracup shuffled his feet under the desk, fighting the instinct to grab Potzner by the collar and force the truth out of him.
    “I’m serious, Professor. When the alarm goes off it sends a signal through our DNA structure to begin the ageing process that ends in death. At that point we become more prone to disease; our bodies lose the elasticity of youth. We take longer to heal. Sometimes, we don’t heal at