Chrysalis: A novel by Harrison Murphy

Chrysalis: A novel by Harrison Murphy

Author:Harrison Murphy [Murphy, Harrison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-28T16:00:00+00:00


She has a number of plates spinning now; to follow up on the NomiTech story, to try and mitigate the reputational damage she inflicted on herself from that car crash radio appearance, and also to talk to Lewis and Paige about Sean coming back to spend time in the house again. Her children can wait for now. Paige is asleep anyway and Lewis is in his room glued to his games console with his headset on, probably getting irate with his friends’ shoddy shooting skills in their virtual war.

It’s hard to spin plates with a glass in your hand so the gin and tonic is set down for the time being. A search for NomiTech Ltd is conducted on Companies House. There’s a director showing, a Ms. Noreen Mitchell. She inputs her address into Google Maps and notes that it is a ninety-minute drive away. Maybe Sean can take her tomorrow as she can’t drive. She could get a driverless Uber no problem, but company is nice and they still have lots to talk about.

There’s peculiarly little on the internet about NomiTech; no company website, nobody purporting to work for them on LinkedIn, zilch on social media besides one post on Facebook on how they’re a tech start-up. That is consistent with what it shows the nature of the business to be on Companies House – ‘other information technology service activities’. They could be involved in almost anything. That description encompasses a broad remit.

Having a quick glance at the shareholders listed, she notes that, besides Malcolm Cornelius, they’re all mainly trust funds whose origins can’t be traced back to anyone in particular, as well as some small-time investors, probably inexperienced people who invest smaller amounts on apps. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. She’s semi-tempted to buy some shares herself given the consistent upward trajectory of the stock price; to put her shovel away and keep the story unearthed, but she feels a surge of civic duty.

Whatever they’re doing here, if Peter won’t even tell another Tory what it is, must be nefarious. It’s also extremely successful, like how courier companies raked it in amidst the pandemics. She racks her brain trying to establish what they could be engaged in that benefits so enormously from the blood-money era. Is it the implant? Or the boxes in which the blood is stored? Or the sophisticated equipment used to pull off the coordinated blood thefts in the first place? Maybe it’s all of the above. What else could Sara be missing?

Could Peter Lightfoot, probably the most, verging on the only, honourable Tory politician she can remember in her time as a journalist, be doing a deal with the devil? He is a Tory after all. They all revert to type eventually.

Maybe that’s why he told Malcolm he was better off not knowing. If the moon-howlers are right for once and the government is actually in cahoots with the criminals, then Sara might be on the cusp of the biggest scoop of her career.



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