The Entangler

Inspector Gray pulled his trench coat more firmly around his neck, and shivered convulsively. York hadn’t seen cold like this in fifty years. His colleagues mocked his coat, which they said made him look like a New York businessman or perhaps a Sicilian mafia boss, but the fact was that they were now mostly all keeping warm back at the station or shivering in the doorways of coffee houses, while he was out performing his duties as per usual.

All the same he was grateful to enter the modern sliding door of the ancient university building.

“Inspector Gray.” he said to the porter. “Here for Professor Richards.”

“To the left, down the corridor, room 108.” said the porter.

“Thank you.” said Gray.

“You investigating Paulson, I take it?” the porter called after him.

“You take it correctly.” said Gray.

“Strange business!” said the porter.

“Aye.” said Gray, over his shoulder.

He found Richards in his office as expected. Professor Richards turned out to be a small, nervous man, with big round steel-rimmed spectacles and thinning white hair.

After confirming some basic details, Gray said to him, “Now to the meat of the matter. We know Paulson’s disappeared, and at the moment that’s all we know. The question is, why has he disappeared. If you could give me some insight into that, it might help us locate him.”

“I don’t like to talk badly of colleagues.” said Richards.

“No, of course not.”

“He performed his duties to the letter and he was renowned in his field.”

“So I hear.” said Gray. “Remind me what his field was, precisely? I’m not sure I completely understand it. I’m just a humble police inspector, you understand. All this talk of fields and particles …”

“Yes, I quite understand.” said Richards. “He was basically a theoretical physicist, specialising in gauge theories and renormalisation. It’s a kind of ... well, it’s mathematical. His work was highly mathematical.”

“Something to do with fields and particles?” said Gray.

“Yes, basically.”

Gray regarded him pleasantly, in silence. He could see Richards wanted to get something of his chest, and experience had taught him it was sometimes only a question of waiting.

“He was a good man.” said Richards.

“Of course.” said Gray.

“An esteemed colleague.”

“That’s what I’m hearing from everyone.”

“The thing is …” Richards shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You see, it’s like this.”

Richards paused unexpectedly and pressed his hands together, touching his forehead with his fingers, almost as if he was praying. Gray waited patiently. Richards seemed to snap out of it suddenly and he said, “Look, Paulson had a gambling addiction. He kept it from his wife. He started out with good intentions. He thought he could win at certain card games with some new system he’d figured out, based on probability, but he was terrible at it. He kept losing.”

Gray nodded understandingly.

“Thank you.” he said. “I appreciate you telling me this. It might very well be relevant to our investigation. Perhaps, for instance, he accumulated gambling debts to some bad people, and he got into a quarrel with them ….”

“He had affairs.” Richards suddenly blurted out. “So many. With colleagues, students, random women he found in bars. He couldn’t help himself. You must understand, Inspector, he was a good man at heart. Just weak. So very weak.”

“Right.” said Gray, nodding again. “I’m not here to judge, Professor. I simply want to know what happened to him.”

“He was a drug addict.” said Richards.

“A drug addict?” said Gray, completely taken aback in spite of himself.

“Yes. As he got deeper and deeper into debt, he turned to prescription drugs. I-I don’t know what, exactly. Opioids, I should imagine. He told the doctors he had back pain. But then ….”

Richards shuddered, as if recalling something very painful.

“Then a woman introduced him to heroin.” he continued. “A lady of the night. The doctors were tailing back his prescriptions. He felt he had no choice. He couldn’t function anymore without it. So dreadful. A great mind, brought so low.”

Gray exhaled noisily.

“Is there anything else?”

“No.” said Richards, also sighing. “It’s a relief to have told you. You’ll keep this to yourself, won’t you?”

“I’ll do my best.” said Gray. “You understand, there’s an ongoing police investigation afoot.”

“Yes, yes, quite. Yes, Paulson was, sadly, a gambling-addicted dope fiend who constantly cheated on his wife. There’s no other way to put it.”

He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head, and laughed.

“Oh, I feel so happy to have got this out the way. You must forgive me, Inspector. I didn’t know if I’d dare tell you. It’s so …. it’s so scurrilous. So shameful. But he was a good man, Inspector, in his heart. A fine man. A genius, perhaps.”

“No doubt.” said Gray.

—

He left Richard’s office muttering to himself.

“Bloody academics. All off their heads.”

He had almost reached the end of the corridor when Richards popped out of his office and called after him.

“I forgot, would you like to see his lab?”

Gray stared at him, collecting his thoughts. Yes, he should probably see Paulson’s lab. He almost felt himself remiss for not thinking of it.

“Most certainly, Professor.” he said.

Richards took him downstairs to the basement. There, an array of bizarre machines had been assembled. Everywhere he looked there were metal pipes, wires, computer screens and vials of liquid surrounded by forests of more tubes and wires.

“I understood Paulson was more of a theoretical physicist.” said Gray.

“Yes.” said Richards. “Yes, he was. To be perfectly honest with you, Inspector, if I could be perfectly frank … well, none of us really knew what he was doing down here. He requisitioned a lab and began working in it in all his spare time. Quite the workload. He only said that he wanted to test out some of his theories. I think he was trying to develop some kind of machine, but he wouldn’t say what.”

“Curious.” said Gray. “When did all this start?”

Richards searched his mind, his eyes looking up and off to the right.

“Oh, that would have been … I suppose two years ago now. I would say, the spring of the year before last.”

“You’ve no idea what any of this does?” said Gray.

“Absolutely not the foggiest. Not a clue. Isn’t it strange?”

“It’s strange, all right.” said Gray.

“You know,” said Richards, wagging his finger, “it really started after he met that young man. The one who started turning up at his office.”

“Young man?”

“Yes, a tall blond man. Always immaculately dressed. An eccentric type. Always wore white, and large sunglasses. Don’t know what he fancied himself as, exactly. About 28 or 30 years old, I’d say. Do you think it’s relevant to the … ah … to the investigation?”

“At this stage we simply don’t know.” said Gray. “What I can tell you is, the more information you can give me, the more chance we have of finding him. His wife is out of her mind with worry.”

“I say,” said Richards abruptly, “you won’t tell his wife about the women and drugs and gambling, will you?”

“Not unless strictly necessary.” said Gray. “I can assure you, Professor Richards, that’s not a conversation I’d particularly enjoy having.”

Richards nodded, inhaled and exhaled.

“Best if she doesn’t know, in my opinion.”

“And when was it that you first saw this man?”

“That could have been as much as three or four years ago, I’d say, but he was here a lot two years ago.”

Gray brought out his notebook. “Three or four years.” he said, writing it down.

“It’s probably nothing. I’ve no idea who he was.”

“That’s fine.” said Gray. “Anything else I should know, Professor?”

“No, that’s about it.”

“You’ve been very helpful.”

“Have I?”

“You certainly have.”

—

Neither of them, at that point, could have suspected the terrible fate that had befallen Professor Paulson. At that very moment, Paulson was alone, terrified, and gradually losing his mind.

—

Back at the station, Gray explained his findings to Sergeant Willford.

“Bloody hell.” said Willford, shaking his head. “The man was an absolute unreconstructed headcase. Cheating on his wife, drugs, gambling, and no-one knows what he was even doing in the basement?”

“That’s about the size of it.” said Gray. “Trouble is, hard to know if any of it’s relevant.”

“Best start with the gambling angle.” said Willford. “Most likely one of his creditors bumped him off.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” said Gray.

“Or one of these ladies of the night.”

“Not unheard of.”

“Or …” said Willford slowly, “he overdosed somewhere and someone panicked and hid his body.”

“What a mess.” said Gray. “Right one I’ve been landed with here.”

“I don’t envy you.”

“It’s all so tedious.” said Gray. “Only unusual thing is, it’s a university professor who got himself into this kind of a mess. You know, Willford, the only angle that really interests me is this young man who dresses in white. But how to find him?”

“I could ask around at the university, see if anyone else has seen him, while you pursue the local lowlife.”

“It’s worth a try, if you’re out that way.” said Gray. “I’d be grateful. Bit of a long shot though, frankly.”

—

In the end, Gray’s investigations all drew a blank, even with Willford’s assistance. Not until late spring did he have something of a possible breakthrough, and by then the case had receded to the back of his mind.

It was a Saturday. Gray liked to avoid the town on a Saturday; it was too busy for his liking, but that particular Saturday he happened to have arranged to meet an acquaintance who was in town, doing something at the university. Dr. Gilmore was a top-notch pathologist, and Gray always liked to pick his brains about the latest port-mortem techniques.

Gray was walking along Garden Street, enjoying the sight of the blossom on the cherry trees, when something caught his attention. For a second his brain didn’t quite register it, and he was left only with a feeling that he’d seen something important. Then his eyes fixed on it: there, a hundred or so yards in front of him, was a young man, dressed in loose white trousers and a white shirt, wearing outsized sunglasses.

Gray quickened his pace, hurrying after the man. He caught up with him near the old church.

“Police!” he said, pulling out his badge. “Have you got a minute, sir?”

The man stopped and turned towards him, smiling.

“How can I help you, Constable?” he said.

“Inspector.” said Gray. “Would you happen to have been acquainted with a Professor Paulson?”

The smile dropped from the man’s face.

“Never heard of him.” he said. “Actually I’m in a bit of a hurry, so if you wouldn’t mind …”

“Just one second of your time, sir.” said Gray. “Could you tell me your name? You happen to match the description of someone we’re looking for in connection with a crime. A possible witness. You’re not in any trouble.”

“I haven’t witnessed any crimes.” said the man, and he began to walk away.

“Your name, sir?” said Gray.

The man stopped and turned around to face him.

“If I’m not mistaken, I don’t have to give you my name, unless I’m under arrest. Am I under arrest?”

“No.” said Gray.

“Well then. Adieu.”

And with that, the man walked briskly away.

Gray watched him thoughtfully as he retreated down the street into the distance. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a phone call.

“Perfect.” said Gray, after some preliminary conversation. “He’s rounding the corner of Sidney Street, if you could tail him. As long as you can spare. Get me something, if you can. Car registration, address, what bus he catches. Anything.”

“Will do, Inspector.” said the voice on the phone.

Constable Pearson made good on his on his word. In the end he followed the young man all the way to an apartment block on the outskirts of town. Then, by asking around, he determined the man’s name was Matt Pepper, and he lived at number 12, on the second floor.

On Monday, Gray wasted no time in heading for Pepper’s flat, where he knocked firmly on the door. After knocking three times, he had still received no reply and was on the verge of giving up when a woman emerged from the adjoining flat.

“Looking for Matt?” she said.

“That’s right.” said Gray.

“He never answers his door. He’s in there, though.”

“How do you know?”

“I can hear him. Weird noises, he makes.”

“What kind of noises?”

“I don’t know. Mechanical noises. Whirring. Crackling.”

“Crackling.” echoed Gray.

“He’s a weird guy.” she added, as she walked off.

Gray banged at the door again, twice, and tried shouting Pepper’s name, to no avail.

Later that week he tried staking out Pepper’s place, but after four hours had to give up.

There was something about Pepper’s appearance that seemed to whisper to him that he was, somehow, relevant to the investigation into Paulson’s disappearance; more relevant than any of the assorted local low-life he had interviewed several months earlier, and Gray had learned to trust his instincts.

He tried on three further occasions that week to summon Pepper to his door, but even though Gray could indeed hear strange noises coming from inside the flat, Pepper never answered his door. Even more frustrating, on Friday, Pepper’s next-door neighbour informed him she had seen Pepper returning to his flat after a short absence on Thursday evening, and she was quite sure he was at home, but no amount of knocking, nor shouting, seemed able to persuade Pepper to emerge.

There then occurred one of those curious coincidences that life likes to throw at us all from time to time.

Sergeant Willford had taken that week off, and had spent his time with his family on the Costa del Sol. When he returned the following Monday, he had some news for Gray.

“Remember that fellow you were looking for in February? I think I might have seen him. Hard to be sure, to be honest. There’s a lot of people in Spain wearing white and large sunglasses, but this one totally matches the spec. I spotted him coming out of a bar on Thursday.”

Gray shook his head.

“Can’t be him. I finally located him, a week ago. He was at home on Thursday. I’ve got a confirmed sighting from the next-door neighbour. Lovely woman. Thinks the chap’s a bit weird. Fellow by the name of Pepper. Matt Pepper.”

Willford pulled out his mobile phone and pulled up a photograph.

“That’s not him, then?”

Gray stared at the photograph in astonishment. He took the phone from Willford and continued staring at it.

“That is him.” said Gray. “The next-door neighbour must be mistaken. What are the odds?”

“That’s your guy? Sure?”

“That’s him.” said Gray. “I’d recognise that face anywhere. That’s the man I bumped into the Saturday before last.”

“Maybe he’s got a twin.” said Willford, laughing. “Or you’re finally losing your marbles.”

“I need to have a word with the neighbour.” said Gray.

Gray went immediately to the apartment block. The usual whirring sounds emerged from Pepper’s flat, but the neighbour was out. He tried again in the evening, and this time the neighbour, at least, answered her door.

“He was here all last week, I’d bet on it.” she said. “I can hear him doing stuff in there. I saw him coming home, like I told you.”

“Is this him?” asked Gray, holding up the photo Willford had taken.

“That’s him.” said the woman, her brow furrowing as she took notice of the distinctly continental background of the photograph. “When was this taken?”

“Last Thursday.” said Gray.

The woman laughed.

“No way, I don’t think so.” she said. “There’s nowhere like that round here. Where is it? Spain?”

“Costa del Sol.” said Gray.

“He was here last Thursday.” said the woman. “No doubt about it. Why don’t you talk to the building supervisor? There’s a security camera at the front. He could show you the footage.”

“I might just do that.” said Gray. “Where do I find the supervisor?”

“He lives in the flat downstairs.” said the woman. “Number 8.”

—

Back at the police station the following day, Willford and Gray placed two photographs side-by-side and gazed at them incredulously.

“That’s the same man.” said Willford. “No doubt about it.”

“He can’t be in two places at the same time.” said Gray, rubbing his temples. “This is giving me a major headache.”

“There’s only one possible answer.” said Willford.

“What’s that?”

“He’s got a twin, like I said.”

“I need to talk to him.” said Gray.

“You should arrest him. We’re potentially looking at a murder investigation here.”

“On a charge of what, would you suggest?” said Gray sarcastically.

“Obstructing a police investigation.”

“Not sure that’ll fly.”

“It’ll put the jeepers up him though.”

“There’s rules and procedures, Willford.”

“Yeah.” said Willford regretfully. “True.”

—

Several weeks went by and Gray acquired no new leads. Then, he had a piece of very unexpected luck. The occupant of number 12 in the apartment block, none other than Matt Pepper, reported a burglary. Specifically, he himself had been burgled.

Gray attended the crime scene personally. He found Pepper absolutely distraught.

“What’s actually been taken?” said Gray, looking around the immaculate flat. Numerous expensive items were clearly untouched, and nothing seemed to have been disturbed.

“A scientific device, Inspector.” said Pepper. “A very important machine. I need it back.” He removed his large reflective bluish sunglasses. “You will help me, won’t you?”

“A scientific device.” said Inspector Gray. “That doesn’t give us much to go on.”

“I can show you pictures of it.” said Pepper. “Here.”

He took out a phone and pulled up a photograph. The photograph showed a small, flat device, rather similar to a rechargeable power pack, but with rather more buttons and controls. It could easily have been a small radio receiver.

“What is it?” said Gray.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“How about we make a deal?” said Gray. “I’ll help you get it back, assuming of course you’re the legal owner and it’s a legal device, but in return you’ll need to be a bit more forthcoming. A lot more forthcoming.”

Matt Pepper put his sunglasses back on and paced back and forth, tearing his hair.

“All right.” he said, finally. “I’ll tell you, but you’ll have to sign an NDA.”

“A what?” said Gray.

“A non-disclosure agreement.”

“That’s not going to be happening, sir. But you have my word that I won’t disclose anything that you tell me unnecessarily to unauthorised persons.”

“Oh!” said Matt, with a yelp of desperation. “This is awful, just awful.”

“Do we have a deal or don’t we?”

“All right then!” he said, and he flopped down on a large white sofa. “Take a seat, Inspector. You’re going to want to be sitting down for this.”

Gray sat down slowly, and brought out his notebook and pen.

“Fire away then.” he said.

“Three years ago I was working on a kind of startup business with my f—colleague Andrew Selston. We were working on a machine that—well, it’s technical. The important thing is, it’s very valuable.”

“So, what does it do?”

“You won’t understand anything I tell you about it.”

“Try me.”

“It’s basically a quantum entangler. It entangles particle multiplexes at the subatomic level. Nothing like it’s ever been achieved before. It violates several laws of quantum physics. We worked on it for a decade.”

“That’s the only thing that’s been stolen?”

“That was the only thing in here of any real value.”

Gray looked around at the expensive stereo equipment, and the odd Greek-looking sculptures and vases that Pepper had strewn around. On the wall were several paintings that looked like they could easily be valuable antique originals.

“Really, sir?” said Gray.

“It was the most valuable thing here—by far.”

“I see. And this—” Gray checked his notes “—Andrew Selston. Where’s he now?”

Pepper took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes and his face.

“Are you OK?” asked Gray.

“About as OK as you’d expect me to be when I’ve had my life’s work stolen!” Pepper exclaimed.

Gray waited for Pepper to calm down, making notes in his notebook to pass the time.

Eventually, he said, “You and this Andrew Selston. Tell me about your relationship with him.”

“I don’t have a relationship with him.” said Pepper. “We fell out a year ago.”

“Is it possible he had something to do with the theft?”

“Whoever broke in here knew exactly what they were looking for.”

“So it is possible?”

“Yes.” said Pepper. “I’d say that’s definitely possible.”

“Where might I find him?”

“I’ve got an address for him. Whether he’s still there or not, I don’t know.”

“Very good, sir. If you’d be so kind as to let me have that, perhaps we’ll get somewhere.”

“I’ll look it out.”

“Before you do that, sir, perhaps you’d be good enough to take a look at a photograph for me.”

“Photograph?”

Gray pulled out his phone and brought up the photograph Willford had taken in Spain.

“Do you recognise this man?”

Pepper turned completely pale underneath his light sun tan, and began to blink rapidly.

“It looks like me.” he said.

“Where were you last Thursday?”

“I was here.”

“This photograph was taken last Thursday in Spain. It can’t be you, then?”

“Absolutely not.” said Pepper. “I was here, in this flat, trying to make some adjustments to the device.”

“Adjustments?”

“Again, a technical matter. It tends to drift and become misaligned. I’ve been trying to stabilise it. That’s all.”

“What happens if it becomes misaligned?”

“Well, it doesn’t work properly.”

“And what happens then, sir?”

Pepper shook his head.

“I can’t explain. You’d need an extensive background in quantum physics.”

Gray sighed.

“Very well then. I think I’ve got everything I need for the moment.”

Pepper, unexpectedly, began to cry.

“I’m sorry.” he said. “It’s just … ten years of work, down the drain. You have to get it back, Inspector. Please tell me you’ll get it back.”

“I’ll do my very best.” said Gray. “I do, however have another question for you. One I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while, except you’re a hard man to get hold of.”

“Sure. Anything. Ask away.”

“Do you know a Professor Paulson?”

“We consulted him on some work we were doing a while back.”

“When was this?”

“It’s been on an off. Last time I saw him was, two years ago maybe.”

“You’ve not seen him for two years?”

“That’s right. About that. Why are you asking?”

Gray folded his notebook with a resounding snap.

“That’s all I wanted to ask. Shame you couldn’t have taken the time to answer my questions when we met earlier, sir.”

“I’m sorry about that.” said Pepper. “I was in a funny mood.”

“Did you ever visit his office at the university?”

“Once or twice.”

“Once or twice?”

“Five times at the most.”

“I see.” said Gray. “And you consulted him about your work?”

“Yes. He’s an expert.”

——

The address Pepper gave Gray was an address in Harrogate. Gray made the trip there the very next day.

Andrew Selston was apparently living, or had lived, in a large luxurious house, almost a mansion, in the hills to the north-west of the town. Gray knocked on the front door and a man of about forty years old answered. He was smartly dressed, and somewhat tough-looking, but his face and mannerisms also projected a sharp intelligence.

“Andrew Selston?” said Gray.

“That’s me.” said the man. “What can I do for you?”

“Inspector Gray. I want to talk to you about a burglary in York.”

Gray, who was a careful observer of faces, noticed a brief flicker of recognition flash over Selston’s face. This man, he was sure, knew exactly what he was talking about.

“You’d better come in, then.” said Selston.

Inside, quite contrary to what Gray had been expecting on the basis of the exterior of the building, the house was furnished like a laboratory, with technical apparatus mixed incongruously with furnishing appropriate to everyday life, including a sofa and a dining table, and an espresso machine.

“Is the entire house like this?” said Gray.

“What? Oh, you mean the lab equipment? Pretty much, Inspector. I’m a bit of a science enthusiast.”

“Do you have formal training in a scientific discipline, may I ask?”

Selston laughed.

“Well, they threw me out of an undergrad course at Oxford, if that counts.” he said.

“I’m here about a device that was stolen from a man by the name of Matt Pepper.” said Gray, getting to the point. “I believe you know him?”

Selston laughed again, sarcastically.

“I know him, all right.”

“You worked together?”

“That’s a stretch. I taught him everything he knows. He did a bit of work, under my supervision, but he wasn’t much good. His main talent was always attracting investors. He’s quite well-connected, because of his family.”

“And what kind of work was that, sir?”

“Quantum physics. I was researching certain obscure but rather promising theories.”

“Entanglement?”

“Yes.” said Selston, surprised. “You’ve been talking to Pepper?”

“I have indeed.”

“I’d take everything he says with a pinch of salt. He’s an inveterate liar. Sadly, I learned this too late.”

“You had a falling out, I understand?”

“Yeah. You could say that, for sure.”

“You built some kind of device together, I understand?”

Selston jumped to his feet.

“I built it!” he said. “Pepper was nothing but a trained monkey. He supplied money, that’s all. Not brains. The device belongs to me.”

Selston seemed to suddenly realise he’d said too much, and he went quiet and stared out the window, caressing his cheek. Self-comforting, thought Gray.

“I’m going to ask you this directly, sir.” said Gray. “Did you steal this device from Pepper?”

Selston exploded again.

“Steal? It’s my device! He stole it from me! The temerity of the man! The entangler is my property! Ten years I worked on it, and he thinks he owns it just because his wretched millionaire friends funded it!”

“You seem to have done pretty well out of this funding, sir.” said Gray quietly.

“This?” said Selston, gesturing wildly at the house around him. “This was funded by the work I performed using the device, not by Pepper’s friends!”

Gray stood up.

“I’m arresting you on suspicion of theft.” he said.

“You what?” said Selston. “You can’t do that! I haven’t stolen anything!”

“That’s as maybe, but we’ll sort it out down the station, or in court.”

“This is outrageous!” said Selston.

“Will you be coming quietly, sir, or do I need to call for backup?”

A kaleidoscope of expressions seemed to flit over Selston’s face, one after the other, in quick succession. Then his shoulders sagged in resignation, following which, almost immediately, a light seemed to shine in his eyes, and he smiled.

“I’ll come quietly. Let’s go, then.”

“Very good.” said Gray. “This way, if you please.”

Gray drove Selston back to the station in his old clapped-out Ford, which he insisted on using for police business against the advice of all of his colleagues.

At the station, he booked Selston in at the desk, then locked him in a holding room while he went to look for a PC to take Selston through the rest of the process.

Gray was looking through his notes related to the case when PC Blake knocked on the door of his office.

“Where did you say you’d put this Selston chap?” he said.

“Cell 3.” said Gray.

“He’s not there.”

Gray swore, and marched to Cell 3. But indeed, Selston wasn’t there.

“Have you moved the bloke I put in Cell 3?” he said to PC Fellows, who was manning the desk.

“No, he’s still in there.” she said.

“Except he’s not.” said Gray.

“What do you mean?” said Fellows.

“It’s locked, and it’s empty.” said Gray.

“No way.” said Fellows.

“Yes way.” said Gray.

“Well, where is he, then?” said Fellows.

“I was hoping you could tell me that.” said Gray.

The three of them, Gray, Fellows and Blake, searched the entire station, and found no sign of Selston.

“Bloody scientists!” said Gray. “This case just gets stranger and stranger.”

—

Later that day, after taking care of various other duties and chores, Gray sat down with Willford to discuss the case.

“I need someone to go over this with.” explained Gray. “There’s an explanation for all this, and that device has something to do with it.”

“The … er … entangler.” said Willford.

“That’s the one.” said Gray.

“Actually I’ve been looking into this a bit. From what I understand so far, entanglement means you can do something to a particle in one place, some tiny thing like an atom or whatever, and the same thing happens to another particle in another place, even miles away.”

“So you can use it for, what, sending messages?” said Gray thoughtfully.

“No.” said Willford. “I’m not pretending to understand it, but there’s some law that says you can’t use it to transmit information.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I’m just telling you what a mate of mine said whose studied a bit of physics.”

“What if that law could be broken?” said Gray, scratching his head and squinting.

“What if it could? Then you’d have some kind of fancy radio transmitter. Not sure it helps with your case.”

“This whole thing’s really doing my head in.” said Gray.

“Let’s review what we know, Inspector.”

“Capital idea, Charley.”

“A professor from the university’s gone missing, and no-one knows where he is. He was secretly a womanising gambling-addicted drug fiend.”

“That’s the size of it.” said Gray.

“This professor started building weird stuff in the basement after meeting Matt Pepper, who we know was also working on some kind of quantum thing, and he’s just been burgled, and the only thing stolen was the entangler device.”

“Right.”

“Matt Pepper used to work with Andrew Selston, who you think probably stole the device.”

“Exactly.” said Gray.

“And the strange thing is, Pepper turned up in two photos at the same time, taken in different countries, and your Selston fellow disappeared out of a locked room.”

“Certainly seems that way.”

“Did you search him?”

“Who?”

“Selston.”

“Didn’t see the point. He doesn’t look the type to carry a knife or drugs or anything. You know I hate searching people unnecessarily. Anyway Blake would have done it before stashing him in the cells at the back, if we’d managed to hold onto him for ten entire minutes.”

“Honestly Steven, I despair.” said Willford, shaking his head and smiling. “Sometimes you go too far with trusting your gut.”

“He didn’t stab anyone or overdose, did he?”

Willford leaned forwards.

“There’s only one explanation that fits all this.”

Gray was sipping coffee from a plastic cup, but he raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Let’s hear it then.” he said, when he’d finished. Then he took another sip, wrinkling his nose at the horrible taste of the machine coffee.

“Selston, possibly with the help of this Pepper fellow, built some kind of device that can transport a person instantaneously from one place to another.”

Gray inadvertently spat out his coffee, spluttering. When he’d recovered, he said, “Oh for pity’s sake, Charley. You’ve been reading too much sci-fi.”

“Think about it.” said Willford. “Some small, pocket-sized device. Here’s what I think happened.”

“This better be good.” said Gray.

“So, Selston and Pepper built this device, and they consulted Professor Paulson on their work. The device entangles particles separated by hundreds of miles, effectively transporting objects, even people, from one place to another, violating the known laws of quantum physics. When it’s duplicated the object, it somehow destroys the original. Basically, it’s a teleporter.

“Seems pretty clear Selston was the real brains behind the operation, and Pepper funded it. Now, this professor, Paulson, he had a lot of problems. Then one day he comes up with a solution for all his problems at once. He uses the device to transport himself somewhere, but for some reason the device doesn’t go with him. Maybe it always stays in one place. We don’t know. Or maybe Selston got it back.

“But then, Pepper gets jealous. They have a falling out, and Pepper believes he should own the device, not Selston. So Pepper steals it and starts living the high life. Probably he uses it to steal stuff, and he pops over to Spain in the evenings when everyone thinks he’s at home.

“Then, Selston steals it back again. And by now, Selston knows what Pepper’s capable of, and he’s got the device, so he was probably already thinking of relocating himself somewhere when you arrested him. He used the device to escape custody, and I’ll wager he feels England’s too hot for him what with you and Pepper both after him, and he’s probably legged it tout suite. So to speak.”

“That’s the most idiotic story I’ve ever heard, Willford. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thank you.” said Willford. “Why don’t you go back up to Harrogate and see if Willford’s there? Get a search warrant. I’ll wager he’s cleared out.”

“I might just do that.” said Gray. “If nothing else, to shut you up. A man doesn’t just leave a nice place like that so easily. If you’re right though, which you’re obviously not, there’s no point even looking for the professor. He could be anywhere on the planet.”

“Your best bet of finding him is if you can get hold of Selston.”

“Who you claim is long gone.”

—

Two days later, Gray returned to Harrogate with a search warrant. To his astonishment, not only was Selston not there, but neither was his house. All that remained was a rectangular trench where the foundations had once existed. Gray paced around it in amazement, unable to believe his eyes. Then he jumped into his Ford and drove all the way back to York, finally arriving at Pepper’s flat. Pepper was at home, for once.

“A colleague of mine has a whacky theory about this case.” said Gray.

“Oh?” said Pepper, what’s that then?”

As usual, Pepper was dressed entirely in white, with an open-necked white shirt and outlandish sunglasses which he insisted on wearing even indoors.

Gray proceeded to relay Willford’s theory to him, and incredibly, he saw on Pepper’s face that the story hit home. Willford, it appeared, had hit the nail on the head.

Pepper smiled greenly.

“I supposed it’s fair to say my respect for the police has increased, Inspector.” he said. “Bravo.”

“Can it really transport an entire house?”

“No,” said Pepper. “only a person. But Selston was working on a more powerful version. He must have succeeded. He could be anywhere now. Probably somewhere warm, if I know him. Beach, or mountains.”

“Doesn’t matter.” said Gray, “since it’s unclear at the moment who owns the thing, and I’m guessing you don’t want to run this through the courts.”

“Nope.” said Pepper, looking rather dispirited.

“And the professor? He could be anywhere too, I suppose?”

Pepper shook his head.

“Actually, you got one bit wrong with your story. You said maybe the professor left the device behind. That’s not normally how it works, except under one very particular circumstance.”

“What would that be?”

“Selston built an anti-theft mechanism into it. If it’s operated naively, without pressing buttons in the correct sequence, it transports you to a cave in Mexico.”

“A cave in Mexico?” said Gray. “What ever for?”

“Kind of a warning not to mess with it. Selston wanted to punish anyone who misused it, but only lightly. Professor Paulson would have ended up two hundred metres deep in a cave that’s twenty miles from the nearest village. He would have found his way out soon after he ended up there. He’s probably still in Mexico, trying to convince the authorities he’s lost his passport or something.”

“Where is this cave, exactly?” said Gray, taking out his notebook.

—

Paulson had in fact been found by Mexican cavers, soon after his disappearance. Unfortunately, Selston’s light punishment had turned into something unforeseen. After materialising in the cave, Paulson had found his way down an obscure and narrow passageway in the dark, and he had spent nearly a week wandering about in the cave, instead of perhaps half an hour as Selston had anticipated.

By the time they had found him, he was still alive, but utterly and irretrievably insane.

It was a whole year before he managed to recall his own name and was returned to England, to be housed safely in a secure psychiatric facility, where he remains now.

His wife still visits him, once a week.