The Marriage Act(103)
‘I thought it might be a convenient time for a catch-up as we haven’t spoken properly for some time. Not since our misunderstanding.’
‘It’s not a good time.’
‘Why? What has you so preoccupied?’
‘I’m picking up my family from the airport.’
‘Ah yes, a little bird told me they were returning today. But isn’t that later this afternoon?’
Anthony didn’t reply.
‘So where are you travelling to now that requires your undivided attention?’
‘Errands. Food shopping . . . and things like that.’
‘Hmm . . . I wonder . . . does meeting with Howie Cosby from Freedom for All fall under the “things like that” category?’
Anthony’s chest tightened. He knows, thought Anthony. Jada’s satnav had given away the address he and Cosby were to meet at. And if Hyde had access to his vehicle’s operating system, he was also likely reading the signals his watch was transmitting to the central console indicating his rising blood pressure and stress levels. There was little point in denying his destination.
‘My part in your project is over,’ he said. ‘I delivered everything last night ahead of schedule so I no longer work for you. You agreed to that. I’ve held up my side of the bargain so now I’m free to meet whoever I want to meet.’
‘I am justifiably concerned if you’re affiliating yourself with an organization in direct conflict with Government policy.’
‘I have no intention of telling anyone anything I shouldn’t,’ Anthony said. ‘I’ve signed enough non-disclosure agreements and official secrets acts to know I’ll spend years locked up and away from my family if I do.’
‘Then tell me about the digital memory stick in your pocket.’
Anthony froze. How could Hyde know that?
‘The vehicles of all employees and their families are fitted with scanners for prohibited electronic devices and gadgets,’ Hyde continued. ‘As per your contract, you are not permitted anything resembling that stick in your possession for any purpose, business or pleasure. Since we’ve been enjoying our catch-up, your car has downloaded everything on that contraband hardware and sent it to us. One can only assume you were planning to share this with your new-found ally Mr Cosby?’
Anthony’s heart pounded so rapidly that a ‘danger to health’ warning appeared on the console.
‘Why haven’t you had me arrested then?’ he asked.
‘I prefer a more direct approach. And, to be honest, I’ve been side-tracked with more pressing matters. You might like to take a look at your screen.’
Footage began to play of Jada and Matthew inside Orlando International Airport as they arrived at an airline check-in desk. Audio recorded them being informed the flight before theirs was delayed but it contained empty seats and, if they wanted to catch it, they’d receive free First-Class upgrades. A grateful Jada agreed.
Before Anthony could ask Hyde what was happening, he was then shown clips of his family disembarking nine hours later in London and making their way through customs channels. Finally, and as they were about to exit with their luggage, border force staff and armed uniformed police officers ushered them into a side room where their suitcases were searched. Jada’s contained a handful of canisters that, when opened, revealed dozens of transparent bags of pills.
‘Some contain amphetamines, others were stuffed with opiates and the rest Oxycodone,’ Hyde explained before Anthony had the opportunity to ask. ‘Total street value, approximately a hundred and twenty thousand. And you know how seriously our Government takes the smuggling of prescription medication, much more so than street drugs. Prison sentences are mandatory.’
‘No!’ yelled Anthony. ‘This is bullshit. Why are you doing this to them? Where are they now?’
‘Well, your wife is still being interviewed by police. But I’m afraid poor Matthew didn’t react well to being separated from his mother. He was clearly agitated, so, for his own safety, he was taken to the psychiatric ward of a private medical facility where he’s currently being monitored.’
The next image to appear on-screen was that of Matthew lying on a bed in a room, alone. His eyes were shut and arms and legs secured with restraints attached to the metal sidings.
‘My son . . .’ choked Anthony.
‘I know, tragic, isn’t it? Apparently, the only way to calm him down was to sedate him. Ironic, considering your dislike of medicating children.’
‘Henry, you don’t need to do this,’ Anthony begged. ‘Let them go and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll stay on this project or any other one for as long as you want me.’
‘But that’s the problem, I don’t want you. Not any more.’
‘No, it’s not too late . . .’
‘You like to think of yourself as a history buff, don’t you, Anthony? Do you know much about the Soviet Union in the nineteen-thirties?’
‘Henry . . .’
‘Apparently during Stalin’s purges, it wasn’t just traitors who were arrested, but their families too. It was commonplace for them to be convicted and executed on the flimsiest of evidence. They paid the ultimate price for the wrongdoings of their loved ones. We should be grateful that we don’t live in such unfair times.’