The Legacy

haven’t lost faith. I just think we need to warn people. We need to do something before more bodies arrive here in the dead of night. We need the Authorities to know. They need to make plans.’
    Richard looked thoughtful for a moment.
    ‘You think we should tell people? Is that it?’
    ‘Longevity cannot fight this virus,’ Dr Thomas said determinedly. ‘Think of the implications, Richard. It is going to spread. Spread unhindered. It will become an epidemic, a pandemic. It will kill everyone in its wake. It will –’
    ‘Stop!’ Richard shouted, holding his hand up. Then, without warning, he rounded on Dr Thomas, gripping him by the shoulders. ‘You spend your days in labs, enjoying the benefits of Longevity, being paid by me for years to improve Longevity, to perfect the formula, to keep Pincent Pharma at the top, and now you turn round and you tell me that we need to dig graves? The only reason anyone is alive is because of me, because of my drugs. The world owes me everything. You owe me everything. And the threat of some virus that doesn’t even exist as far as I know is enough to make you predict the end of the world?’
    Dr Thomas went pale, then cleared his throat again. ‘We owe you everything because you promised us we would live for ever. If you cannot keep that promise . . .’ His voice was trembling, but there was steel in it.
    Richard closed his eyes briefly then looked back at the quivering doctor. He would not listen. He could not listen. Longevity would triumph, because the alternative was too terrifying.
    ‘Enough of this,’ he said curtly. ‘You will continue to conduct autopsies until we have different conclusions. Do you understand?’
    ‘But that’s impossible. There are no other conclusions I can draw.’
    Dr Thomas was looking Richard in the eye and it unsettled him. Years ago, people used to say that death was the great leveller. Richard disagreed – it was fear of death that made men forget themselves.
    ‘I see,’ he said. ‘Well, in that case I’m sorry.’
    ‘Sorry?’ Dr Thomas looked at him hopefully.
    ‘Yes, I’m sorry,’ Richard said, nodding his head slowly. Then, in one deft movement, he took out a pistol and fired it. Dr Thomas looked at him in surprise, then slumped to the floor, blood oozing from his chest. ‘Sorry,’ Richard continued, ‘that you’ve given me yet another body to dispose of. Sorry that I’ve lost one of my best scientists.’
    He took out his phone. Dr Thomas was dead, but his words, his worries, were still hanging in the air like dust. Richard felt as if he was choking on them.
    ‘Derek? It’s me. I need you down in the basement.’
    ‘Of course.’
    Richard put his phone back in his pocket, then leant against the wall. He didn’t have to wait long. Derek Samuels, his head of security, appeared minutes later. From his expression Richard deduced that he was not shocked by the sight of his former colleague now lying lifeless on the floor.
    Immediately, Richard felt relief flood through him; immediately he felt the familiar reassurance of Derek’s businesslike voice and demeanour. Derek Samuels was the only man Richard could trust to be entirely unemotional, to focus on the job, to show no interest in the rights, wrongs, ifs or buts. If he had a conscience, he hid it well. Richard suspected that he enjoyed his role as enforcer, enjoyed the power he yielded, enjoyed the suffering he caused. Richard had had no idea all those years ago just what a companion Derek would turn out to be when he offered him £5,000 to do him a favour, to take care of someone for him, to help him get rid of a problem.
    ‘So Thomas didn’t find the answer you were looking for then?’ Derek asked, his tone as businesslike as usual.
    Richard shook his head and sighed. He suddenly felt very tired.
    ‘No,’ he replied wearily. ‘He said it was a virus that had mutated, that had discovered how to get past Longevity. He said it’s going to be an epidemic. He said we’re all going to die.’ He attempted a laugh, but it rang hollow.
    ‘Ah,’ Derek said grimly, as he lifted the body into a plastic bag and started to clean up the mess. ‘I see.’
    Richard found himself watching Derek in admiration as he methodically got to work. The one man who never let him down, whose long life had been dedicated to smoothing the path for him, dealing with his enemies, protecting him from his friends.
    ‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said, his voice so quiet it