The Illusion of Smoke: The Prequel

By Ivee Olivares

A strange smoke ... A genetically modified drug ... A chance encounter ...

Scientist Dr Neroli Sonnclere stumbles into a mystery that will change the direction of her life.

On the flight home to London from a Biomedical Engineering Conference in New York, Dr Sonnclere bumps into two people who have caught her attention. Indulging her natural curiosity, she follows them out of the airport. Little does she know that the trail would lead her right into a web of intrigue as well as a new discovery—of a genetically modified form of the most illegally consumed drug of abuse. Cannabis.

As the prequel to the Sonnclere Mystery Series, The Illusion of Smoke introduces us to an unusual character—a young female scientist with a unique gift. Born with hyperosmia, or a heightened sense of smell, Dr Sonnclere possesses the ability to sniff out odours undetected by ordinary humans. When utilised in conjunction with her scientific knowledge, she discovers she can use her particular talent in ways reminiscent of Sherlock Holmes—by keenly observing her surroundings, swiftly arriving at a deduction and ultimately solving problems unlike those she’s ever faced before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ivee Olivares
• Release date: Oct 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301585311

Ivee Olivares

Ivee Olivares trained as a visual artist, graduating from the London Institute’s Chelsea College of Art and Design. But it was after losing sleep over one too many mystery thrillers that she decided to give writing novels a try. As in her art, she usually gets her inspiration for her stories during long afternoon walks. Unfortunately, her ideas also have the knack of keeping her up and writing way into the night. For more information, visit: www.IveeOlivares.com

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Hartford County, Connecticut, USA

Friday, May 7, 09:04 pm

Dr Madeleine Mitchell steered her black Jeep Cherokee along the farm's single lane dirt road. Though it was dark—just her headlights and a sliver of moon in a starless sky to guide her—she reckoned she could manage the drive blindfolded. After slogging back and forth on this track almost every day for the past ten years, she had memorised every dip, bend and pothole along the way.

The earth-scented breeze drifting through her open window made her shiver. Madeleine tucked a curl of chestnut hair behind her right ear and peered into the darkness. All that her eyes could see, plus what lay hidden in the shadows, belonged to her. She owned over a thousand acres, empty for the most part but for a few trees and shrubs. Once fertile tobacco land, the farm had been left to grow wild, encouraging an increase in the number of crickets. Mesmerised, she listened to their cheery chirping. Or stridulating, if she wanted to be more accurate. But no one was around to share that particularly felicitous word with. Madeleine sighed. Apart from the company of crickets and other silent nocturnal wildlife, she was quite alone.

She had been more than halfway home to her apartment in the city when she realised that she had forgotten her cell phone at the laboratory. Although her phone was the latest in cellular technology, she didn't actually use it much, especially at work. She was specifically careful not to utilise it to upload or transfer sensitive data. Wireless systems were easily hacked. But tonight, she was expecting a phone call from an old colleague. Not one to waste time, she turned around and drove straight back.

She had bumped into Dr Warren Thomas on a rare shopping trip to Manhattan a year ago. While taking a breather at a patisserie near Barney's on Madison Avenue, she had felt the heat of someone's stare. Glancing up, she was startled by Warren's electric blue eyes, and she spilled the cappuccino she had been enjoying. She hadn't seen Warren since her abrupt departure from Medtech Pharmaceuticals over a decade ago, and yet she recognised him immediately. The years had not diminished his good looks or his athletic physique. Unlike him, she had to work hard and spend inordinate amounts of money to keep her youthful appearance, which she deemed important as a female as well as a professional in the field of science.

Madeleine couldn't help but feel a twinge of bitterness and resentment. Whereas she had retreated in disgrace, the smart and talented Warren had climbed Medtech's ladder. While she had skulked in the backwaters of Hartford County, he had reached the top in the medical research and development field. It should have been her with the accolades and promotions. She had sacrificed so much for her work. Where was the reward for her dedication? Her prize for her contribution to science?

Madeleine fell back against her seat and breathed heavily. She had tried and failed to hoist the blame for her shameful dismissal on others. Her bosses at Medtech first; her ex-husband second. Sadly, she knew her spectacular fall from grace had been her own doing. She couldn't escape the truth. It would be pointless to take it out on Warren as well.

As charming as he was ambitious, Warren insisted that she give him her number, promising he would call. Several months later, she was surprised when he actually did. Now he was in town for business—a long way from Medtech's headquarters in New Jersey. And before she could stop herself, she had agreed to meet him for drinks to catch up on the past she had struggled to put behind her. The fact that she normally finished work late did not discourage him.

'Why not, Mads?' he said over the phone. His voice sounded as rich and smooth as the single malt scotch whiskey he favoured.

Why not indeed? She smiled, picturing his thick dark hair and broad shoulders. She imagined his bright blue eyes twinkling in amusement as if he could read her mind. He was now divorced; so was she. And he had always had a soft spot for her. Besides, he pointed out, he had been one of the few who had shown her sympathy during the scandal. He had been on her side. More importantly, he didn't call her Mad Mitchell or Mad Doctor as the others did.

'You owe me a drink. How about it? For old times' sake.'

She had also forgotten how persuasive he could be.

The jeep hit a pothole, jerking her out of her reverie. Madeleine swore. She had allowed herself to be distracted, which was not like her. Worse, she found herself beginning to relax. Evidence: she had made a date to have drinks with a former colleague tonight. Unfortunately, she couldn't afford to be complacent. Not yet. She had spent nearly a decade working on a special project at her lab. This project would make up for all that had happened, for all her pain and humiliation. It would right all the wrongs in her life. And pay exceedingly well, if she played all the angles just right. Her work was almost done. The end was in sight. She needed a few more days to verify results of the last round of tests. Only then would she allow herself to truly relax.

The Cherokee's headlights illuminated the main barn. Normally, Madeleine would park under the large oak tree in front. Tonight, however, she drove around the barn to the back entrance and turned off the engine. The back door was closer to her office.

The lab was a complex of converted barns and various outbuildings in a long abandoned tobacco plantation. She had been fortunate enough to purchase, refit and operate it from funds raised from her inheritance and her divorce settlement. Gene, she thought of her ex-husband for a minute. They hadn't spoken in ages. Would he approve of her work? Or would he think she'd become genuinely mad?

In any case, she had chosen this isolated farm for its history as well as its privacy. The dirt road guaranteed little outsider traffic. The isolation suited her research purpose and provided a secure place for the lab away from prying eyes.

The Connecticut River Valley, where Hartford lies, had had a long history of growing tobacco. Native Americans began the tradition by cultivating the nicotine-rich plant along the banks of the river. The area became well known for its broadleaf and shade tobacco, the type used as outer covers or wrappers for fancy cigars: difficult to grow, but a premium product. Sadly, due to intense competition from other tobacco producers in Ecuador, the Honduras, the Dominican Republic and other countries, tobacco production in the US had declined considerably. Comparably, many of the plantations surrounding her farm had been abandoned, their barns and auxiliary buildings left to rot. There were a few stubborn farms still in operation, though. Tobacco planting usually began in May. Driving to the lab in the summer, she would see white cloth tents erected to protect the leaves from harsh sunlight. And after harvest in August, she would breathe in the sweet scent of curing tobacco seeping out from the drying sheds. The valley had the right conditions: good climate and loose, drainable soil. Perfect also for her requirements.

Her main barn, decrepit on the outside, disguised a small but state-of-the-art laboratory inside. The other buildings concealed modern greenhouses and storerooms for the special crops and seeds. None of the buildings would attract unwanted attention from the neighbours, even if she were worried about the neighbours. The nearest working farm was miles away.

In any case, for extra security, Don, her lab manager lived on the premises as a caretaker. He grew vegetables and raised cows and pigs—enough to make his cover convincing. Don also handled security within the lab. Recently, she had him add closed-circuit cameras that fed footage to an off-site location, where it was also archived.

'Aren't you being paranoid?' Don asked when she instructed him to purchase the latest surveillance equipment. It had cost a minor fortune.

'Perhaps I am,' she retorted, grinning. 'You know the saying—it's better to be safe than sorry.' Afterwards, Don teased her about being a control freak. A mad freak perhaps?

Alighting from her jeep, Madeleine noticed that the building Don occupied was unlit. She remembered he was visiting his elderly mother in a neighbouring county. Even though his mother wasn't seriously ill, Madeleine didn't feel it was appropriate to dissuade him from spending time with her. In any event, he would be back by the weekend. What could happen in one night?

As she approached the steel-reinforced wooden door of the barn, she could smell the faint aroma of cured tobacco seeping out of the old woodwork. Inside, she quickly disabled the security system. She didn't bother to turn on the lights; she knew her way around in the dark. She planned to be in and out. It shouldn't take her long to find her phone.

Moving quietly through the lab, she immediately saw the mess and frowned. Jane, her new lab technician, wasn't the tidiest of workers. While she encouraged riotous propagation in the fields for other reasons, neatness and orderliness in the lab were essential to the accuracy of their work. Inopportunely, at a critical moment in the project, her long-time technician and friend, Linda, had had an accident. Eight months ago, Linda's car had been blindsided by a speeding car, and shoved hard into a tree. The other driver had taken off without slowing to see how Linda was. Hit and run. It was pure luck that Madeleine had finished at the lab earlier than usual that day and had come upon the scene. She called 911. An ambulance arrived after the longest fifteen minutes she'd lived through. If the crew had come fifteen minutes later, Linda wouldn't have survived, the doctors told Madeleine at the hospital. Eight months in, and Linda was still undergoing rehab, learning how to walk again.

At any rate, Jane had come highly recommended by Don. While Madeleine didn't trust anyone completely, she didn't have time to make her usual discreet inquiries before hiring qualified staff. Besides, Jane's credentials and references seemed to check out. And apart from her messy habits, she was conscientious and quiet, a shy, little mouse.

Madeleine could see that Jane had cleaned the test tubes, pipettes, Petri dishes and beakers, but hadn't put them away properly. At least not in the specific manner Madeleine instructed. Madeleine made a mental note to remind Jane again as she stored the items away herself.

How she missed Linda. Just when they had reached a breakthrough that brought the project so much closer to successful completion, she'd had the mishap. How she'd wished Linda had been here to celebrate the project's turning point with the rest of the team. Unlike her own treatment by her former employers at Medtech, Madeleine would make sure her friend reaped the benefits and rewards of her dedication and hard work.

Madeleine climbed the stairs to her office at the mezzanine floor. She switched on a lamp and rummaged through her desk. The cell phone was under a sheaf of papers she had forgotten to file in her eagerness to meet Warren. She checked her phone: two missed calls and one text message. All from Warren. She texted him back. Am on my way. Will go directly to the bar near your hotel. Except half an hour later, she failed to notice that she was still clearing up her desk.

Until she heard a noise.

It sounded like the heavy door at the front entrance swinging open. Madeleine froze. Coming to her senses, she switched off the desk lamp, plunging the room in blackness. She went over to the door and opened it a crack. Seconds later, she spotted the intruder. He wore a black mask and jumpsuit and carried a large black bag. She watched him pad cautiously through the lab floor. Who was he? And how had he gotten in? She was alarmed by his boldness. Then she remembered that she hadn't reset the security system when she entered. She hadn't anticipated staying this long.

The intruder paused as if sensing Madeleine's presence. Madeleine held her breath. After a second, the intruder acted peculiarly. Rather than turning on a flashlight and searching the place for valuables, he ignored all the expensive equipment in the main work area and headed for the backroom. Straight for the lab's safe.

Madeleine exhaled, as if realising at that instant she was still alive and, therefore, needed to breathe again. Nonetheless, she remained motionless as she considered what to do next.

The laboratory safe was built into the wall. It had a sophisticated combination lock that discouraged the use of an auto dialler. Unlike in the movies, such a machine would have to cycle through thousands of combinations, which could take several hours. The safe's door and inner walls were also made of steel and composite aggregate material. They should be impervious to any portable x-ray devices that might be used to aid cracking the safe's combination. The only weak spot in the safe was the face of the lock itself. Moments later, she heard the whir of drilling equipment.

The sound startled her. Now Madeleine became more alarmed. For one, this was not a common burglar. Questions ran through her mind. How had he known where to find the safe? How did he know what equipment to use? Judging by the decisiveness of his actions, the burglar couldn't have had time to try an x-ray machine, or auto dialler for that matter. The intruder seemed familiar with the lab and the safe. Too familiar. And yet Madeleine could count on her fingers the number of persons who had access to the lab. Apart from the safe's installers, they consisted of her employees.

Her first thought was of Don. Had he been here, would this be happening? Was the burglar aware Don was going to be away? How had her caretaker conveniently chosen tonight to be absent? Her next suspicion was Jane, the new lab technician, of course, and Don's recommendation. Could they be in this together? They had become close, Madeleine remembered now. Romance seemed to be in the air, except Madeleine couldn't figure out what he saw in her. Then she counted her researchers, Abbie, Bill and Zack, who specialised in Biochemistry, Plant Molecular Biology and Genome Sequencing respectively. Lately, the three had been becoming friendlier with each other, going out together often after work hours even though she adamantly discouraged fraternisation among her staff.

Could it be one of them? It had to be. It was too dim to tell which one, but only her employees would realise what was stored inside the safe. Or at