Resurrection

TWENTY ONE

Dewar drove back to the Scottish Office, very conscious of what was in the vials sitting in the box on the floor behind him. He’d gone to considerable trouble to individually wrap them using toilet roll from the pack he’d found in a cupboard to provide protection from any sort of impact. The whole box was then wrapped up in the plastic bag that had held the cat food. The last thing in the world he — or indeed the city needed, was for him to be involved in any kind of an accident. In the event, he reached the Scottish Office without incident.

He took the box with the vials up to his room and put them safely away in a drawer to await Malloy’s arrival. It seemed such a mundane thing to do with enough virus to wipe out the city and more but there was no call for drama, he reasoned. A convoy of police cars, sirens wailing and lights flashing could be summoned to take the vials to safe-keeping at the university but right now, that wasn’t necessary. The vials were perfectly safe as long as the glass didn’t break.

He called Mary Martin to say that he had to speak with the team who had dealt with the decontamination of Kelly’s flat. She promised to ask them to get in touch when they returned from their current assignment. ‘Is it urgent?’

‘Very.’

Dewar sat down and embraced a few minutes silence while he got his thoughts in order. He still couldn’t make much sense of a putative link between Kelly and Pierre Le Grice. It was very much a case of the old question, why on earth would Le Grice involve someone like Kelly? But, as far as he could see, the alternative to that scenario was even more unattractive. It would involve the virus not having come from Le Grice at all. He’d have to consider that there might be another source of virus out there, a completely different one, one that he hadn’t even imagined.

The phone rang. It was Karen.

‘I’m in Edinburgh,’ she said.

‘Where about?’

‘I’ve just come in from the airport. I’m going to take my stuff down to Mum’s and then I’ll come back up. Maybe we could meet? I’ve to report with the other volunteers to Dr Martin at the Public Health Service at six this evening.’

‘I’m going to be tied up this afternoon. I’ve made some progress at last. I’m not sure where it’s going to lead me but you’ll be carrying your phone?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll get in touch the minute I’m free.’

‘Take care, Adam.’

‘Nobody’s hero, that’s me.’

‘If only that were true,’ said Karen. ‘Please be careful.’

Dewar went down to the communications room to see how things were in the estate. He left instructions that he be called as soon as Malloy arrived.

‘The police have been touring with loudspeaker vans telling the people that the vaccine will be here tomorrow and where they should go to get it.’ said the official currently in charge of the room.

‘Please God they’re right,’ said Dewar.

‘Superintendent Tulloch was adamant that good news was needed to head off any more trouble. It’s his responsibility.’

Dewar reflected that it wasn’t going to matter a damn whose responsibility it was if the vaccine didn’t come soon. ‘What about the no-go area?’ he asked. ‘Anything happening?’

‘The yobs are still in control. There’s been no attempt to re-take it. The police are keeping a low profile. I think they’re hoping that the broadcasts about the vaccine will tip the balance in their favour and the ordinary people inside the area will stage their own revolt.’

‘Has anything at all been getting in or out?’

‘They’ve let in ambulances to remove sick people and they allowed a doctor and nurse in this morning to see a sick child.’

Dewar nodded.

‘Dr Malloy is here,’ said a woman’s voice behind him.

Dewar returned upstairs and greeted Steven Malloy. ‘The vials are in my room,’ he said.

Malloy raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. He followed Dewar upstairs and stood by while Dewar carefully removed one of the vials from the drawer and then from its wrapping to hand it gingerly to him.

Holding it carefully in two hands, Malloy took it over to the window and examined it. After a few moments he sighed. Strangely, there was an element of relief in the sound. He looked at Dewar. ‘These didn’t come from the institute,’ he said. ‘They’re very old. Nobody’s used FD capsules like these for years.’

‘Maybe Le Grice used old equipment to avoid detection? Something he found in a basement maybe?’ said Dewar.

Malloy shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not,’ he said. ‘What’s good news for the institute is bad news for you.’ He looked at the vial in his hand again. ‘This vial is really old … in fact, I’d even suggest that these numbers on the strip inside the vial … four and nine, forty-nine stand for 1949, well before the institute was even built and certainly before Pierre Le Grice was born.’

Dewar closed his eyes and said in a flat monotone, ‘That means there is another source of the virus out there and we’ve no idea where it is.’

‘Bloody hell,’ said Malloy.

‘Sweet Jesus Christ,’ muttered Dewar.

‘We could be sailing up shit creek here. Government secrets and all that.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘It was before my time of course, but you hear these stories about so-called defence initiatives at the time of the second world war when the government experimented with all sorts of disease-carrying bombs. I suppose I’m thinking of Gruinard Island off the west coast of Scotland, the one they infected with anthrax and consequently put the island out of commission for over half a century.’

Dewar nodded. ‘I think there was some kind of accident with plague too on Salisbury Plain if I remember rightly,’ he said.

‘That sort of thing,’ said Malloy. ‘A lot of it went on in the forties and fifties.’

‘So now we have to consider that somebody has stumbled across a stash of secret wartime biological weapons,’ said Dewar.

‘Just an idea,’ said Malloy.

‘But at exactly the same time the Iraqis come to Edinburgh, trying to persuade people to make smallpox for them? I don’t think I buy that.’

‘I agree, it’s stretching coincidence a bit far,’ conceded Malloy.

‘Even so, I’ll get Sci-Med to check out your idea but getting any information out of the ministry of defence can break your heart. They’ve turned stone-walling into an art form. But whatever they say, there’s still a linking factor in all of this,’ said Dewar. ‘One that involves the institute.’

‘If you say so,’ said Malloy.

‘As for getting more information right now …’Dewar took a deep breath and said, ‘I guess it’s going to be all down to Denise Banyon now, bless her little cotton socks.’

‘Anything I can do?’

‘If you’re still willing to take the cat, I’ll give you the address. Maybe you can go over and pick her up? Her name’s Puss.’

Malloy left to drive over to Jutland Place and Dewar called George Finlay at the Western.

‘She’s complaining of a sore arm at the moment, the flu-like symptoms shouldn’t be far behind.’

‘Good, I don’t want anyone reassuring her, not you, not the nurses, not anyone. I want her to dwell on things. I want her to think about it and worry.’

‘Understood.’

Two black Bedford vans were leaving the hospital grounds when Dewar arrived a couple of hours later. He suspected they would be taking bodies of smallpox victims to the crematorium and mentioned this to George Finlay who confirmed it.

‘We’ve lost seven patients today,’ said Finlay. ‘I’m expecting twice that number tomorrow but thankfully we’ve not been having the trouble I anticipated over disposal of the bodies. I think people are just too frightened to make a fuss. You said you thought the source was still out there?’

‘I’m afraid so. All along I thought the virus had escaped from one of the university labs; I even thought I knew which one, but it turns out it didn’t. I need Denise Banyon to tell me where her man, Kelly stole what he thought were drug capsules when in fact, they were freeze-dried cultures of smallpox virus.’

‘My God.’

Dewar told Finlay about Kelly and Hannan injecting reconstituted virus, believing it to be heroin. Finlay screwed up his face in horror. ‘What a thought.’

‘Denise is probably our last chance of finding out where they got them in the first place,’ said Dewar.

‘Good luck and God help us all,’ murmured Finlay.

‘I think He could do with some help from a vaccine right now,’ said Dewar. ‘Any word of it?’

‘Nothing yet.’

A nurse came into the room and said, ‘Sorry to interrupt Doctors but Dr Dewar is wanted on the telephone.’

Dewar followed the girl to the unit’s main duty room and picked up the phone.

‘Malcolm Ross here, public health laboratory service, Dr Martin said you wanted to speak to me urgently. I was in charge of the squad who did the decontamination on Kelly’s flat. Is there a problem?’

‘No problem,’ said Dewar. ‘But I wanted to know if you came across a number of glass vials in the flat, small, round capsules about four centimetres long and half a centimetre in diameter; they contained a crystalline white powder?’

‘No, we didn’t,’ replied Ross without hesitation.

‘You’re quite sure?’

‘Absolutely certain. What is this?’

Dewar could understand Ross becoming defensive. He was bound to think he was being questioned about drugs that had gone astray. He didn’t want to tell him what was really in the vials so he simply said, ‘Thanks, that’s all I wanted to know.’

‘Bad news?’ asked Finlay who had followed him along to the duty room and had heard the one word expletive Dewar had used when he’d put down the phone.’

‘Not good,’ said Dewar. ‘It makes Miss Banyon’s contribution more important than ever.’

‘Anything you need?’

‘Protective clothing including visor, an injection site swab, some pyrogen-free, sterile saline and a ten ml. syringe,’ replied Dewar.

A second nurse came into the room and Finlay said to Dewar, ‘Staff nurse Flynn has just been in to see Denise. ‘How is she?’

‘Feeling sorry for herself. She’s convinced people are keeping something from her. Says there’s a conspiracy and we’re all the same. Stuck-up shitheads, to use her exact words.’

‘So, no change there,’ said Dewar. ‘Good. Couldn’t be better.’ He went along to the changing room and donned full protective gear before proceeding to Denise Banyon’s room. Outside the door he stopped and listened. The television was on as usual but it wasn’t too loud. Dewar had hoped her headache might persuade her to turn the volume down. For once, things were going his way. He started to have a loud, false conversation outside Denise’s door.

‘No, I’m sorry nurse,’ he said firmly. ‘There simply isn’t enough American vaccine to go round. Some patients will just have to take their chance with the disease. I’m sorry, I know how you and your colleagues must feel. I know it’s rough but that’s what difficult choices are all about.’

Dewar waited a few seconds then entered Denise Banyon’s room.

Denise’s eyes opened wide when she saw the protective gear Dewar was wearing. He had the visor down.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ she exclaimed, holding her sore arm and shrinking back into the chair she was sitting in.

‘I’ve just come to see how you are, Denise,’ said Dewar. ‘Any problems with headaches? Stiff limbs?’

‘I’ve got it, haven’t I? I’ve got this bloody disease. That’s why they wouldn’t tell me anything. Bastards!’

‘Tell me about the headache. Is it bad? Is your neck stiff and sore?’

‘Yes,’ bleated Denise. ‘Oh Christ I’ve got it. I’m going to die!’

‘If I can just take your pulse,’ continued Dewar without contradicting her.’

‘Wait a minute, I know you. You’re the bugger who came before.’

‘I told you at the time I was a doctor, not a policeman,’ said Dewar evenly. ‘But if you’re declining medical help I’ll go now and leave you alone. You have the right.’ He made to back away.

‘No, wait. I don’t want to die. I want this American vaccine stuff. I need it. I’ve got the disease!’

‘The American vaccine? No, I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Denise, but if you take it easy and do what the doctors and the nurses tell you I’m sure you’ll have more than a fighting chance.’

‘A figh … I don’t want a fucking fighting chance, I want the vaccine. Why won’t you give me the vaccine, you bastard. It’s because you think I’m rubbish, isn’t it. Fucking is.’

‘Don’t be silly Denise. There just isn’t enough vaccine to go round. Some of us have to make difficult decisions, hard choices. It isn’t easy you know. But you’re young and fit.’

‘You sound like that Tory bastard Blair. Difficult decisions my arse. I want the vaccine!’

‘Don’t be silly Denise. Behaving like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. I suggest you get into bed and take it easy. Stop upsetting yourself. You’re going to need all your strength to fight the disease.

Dewar saw fear replace the raw aggression he was used to seeing in Denise Banyon’s eyes. He was well pleased.

‘Wait! Wait!’ said Denise as she though Dewar was about to leave. ‘You wanted to know things?’

‘What things?’

‘You know, about the drugs Mike stole. Where he got them. You remember. You asked me often enough.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Dewar vaguely. ‘What about them?’

A look of cunning came back to Denise’s eyes despite Dewar pretending to be off-hand. ‘First the vaccine.’ she said.

‘No deal,’ said Dewar, making to turn away but his eyes were wide and his pulse was racing. He mustn’t blow this. On the other hand he couldn’t trust Denise to keep her part of any bargain.

‘All right!’ said Denise, putting both her hands to her cheeks. ‘I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Just say that you’ll give me some of the American vaccine.’

‘I can’t make deals like that,’ said Dewar. ‘It wouldn’t be fair but I will give your case … further consideration.’

Denise’s face lit up. That was as good as you got from these bastards. They’d never made a bargain with you. They always had to dress it up as something else. ‘What did you want to know?’

Dewar took off his visor and turned off the television. He sat down facing Denise. ‘Tell me about the man who asked Michael help him recover the drugs he later stole from him.’

‘Some guy approached Mike at the building site where he was working and asked if he’d do a wee job for him.’

‘Why Mike? Did he know him?’

‘Mike was driving the bloody digger,’ said Denise. She said it as if Dewar was some kind of idiot.

‘So it was a digger driver he was after, not Michael in particular?’

‘Well done,’ said Denise sarcastically.

‘The drugs were buried?’

‘Give the man a prize.’

‘But presumably Mike couldn’t just drive off in his employer’s digger when he felt like it?’ asked Dewar.

‘The job was at the building site,’ said Denise.

Dewar paused to digest that. He leaned forward and said, ‘You’re saying that this man wanted Michael to dig up part of the site he was already working on?’

Denise nodded. ‘Mike said it was nearby. He did it at night. Gave the watchman a few bob to turn a blind eye.’

‘The man that Mike agreed to help. Did he have a name?’

‘No.’

Dewar looked at her doubtingly.

‘Straight up.’

‘You never met him?’

‘Never. Mike just met him twice. Once when he approached him and the second time when he did the job.’

‘When did Michael steal the drugs from him?’

‘Mike went back later that night and helped himself.’

‘You mean the man left some behind after Michael opened up the stash?’ Dewar sounded incredulous.

‘Mike said there were lots of the things. The guy just picked some and then asked Mike to help him partially cover up the hole again, saying he would be back. Mike beat him to it.’

‘You mean he emptied it out?’

‘Christ no, he didn’t want the guy to even know he’d been there just in case he’d get in deep shit with a supplier and have the heavies after him. He just took a handful hoping the guy wouldn’t notice.’

‘Did he?’

‘Mike never saw the guy again.’

‘Did Mike go back to the stash?’

‘Yeah, he thought he’d go back the next night and push his luck. There was nothing left.’

‘It had been emptied out?’

‘Not exactly,’ replied Denise with a bitter grin. ‘The guy had been back, right enough; he’d burned everything. Mike said he must have used petrol or paraffin. All that was left was a black hole in the ground. Mike just about went spare, ‘said it must have been worth thousands, then he tried some and found out why the guy torched the stuff.’

‘The drugs were in glass vials, weren’t they?’

Denise nodded.

‘Did Michael know this man as a pusher in the city?’

Denise shook her head. ‘He said he’d never seen him before in his life.’

‘Didn’t he think that odd?’

Denise shrugged. ‘Dunno. Never thought about it. These days there are probably more pushers than postmen.’

‘Where was this building site?’

‘Dunno.’

‘You never asked Mike?’

Denise shrugged and said sourly, ‘South side somewhere, didn’t exactly matter. we weren’t thinking of buying one.’

‘You said Michael took a handful. How many was that exactly?’

Another shrug. ‘Dunno. Twenty maybe, hard to say.’

‘Did he sell any?’

‘Never had the chance. Fell ill after the first one he took, didn’t he.’

‘But he gave some away.’

‘To who?’ snapped Denise.

‘Tommy Hannan.’

Denise’s aggression evaporated. ‘Oh yeah, Tommy came round the night Mike came home with the gear. He gave him five, I think.’

The number matched Dewar’s thinking. There had been four in the box in the chimney. Hannan had mainlined the other one and killed himself.

‘So where are they now, Denise?’

Denise looked at him suspiciously. ‘Have you “reconsidered” my case?’ she asked.

‘I’ve reconsidered,’ said Dewar. ‘I’ll give you an injection.’

‘They’re in the flat.’

‘Where in the flat?’

Denise paused as if giving away this secret was still something that was difficult to do despite the circumstances. ‘Under the sink.’

‘In the cupboard under the sink?’

‘Not just in the cupboard. There’s a board at the back that hides the pipes. Mike fixed it so it lifts out. There’s a space behind it. You’ll find what you’re looking for there.’

‘They’re still there?’

‘Unless any of you bastards have had them away.’

‘Thanks Denise.’

‘Don’t thank me, you shit. Just give me the vaccine.’

‘Roll up your sleeve.’

Denise did as she was told. Dewar brought out his little bottle of sterile saline and charged a syringe. He swabbed the skin on her upper arm and injected a little sterile saline, something that would do her neither good nor harm. ‘There you go,’ he said. ‘All done.’

‘Good. Now fuck off and leave me alone.’

‘Another satisfied customer,’ murmured Dewar as he left the room. He called George Finlay on an internal phone in the hallway. He didn’t want to get out of protective gear just yet.

‘He was called away,’ said the nurse who answered. ‘Some problem up in the wards. He said to ask you when you came out if we were to treat Denise any differently?’

‘Yes,’ Dewar replied. ‘Be very positive. Tell her she’s looking better each time you go in. Tell her you think she’s got away with it. She’s not going down with the disease after all.’

Understood. Are you coming out now?’

‘I’d like to see Sharon Hannan first.’

‘She’s in number 7.’

Sharon Hannan was obviously in a bad way but she recognised Dewar when he entered. The rash on her face was now well developed and she was shivering despite suffering an obvious fever showing in the sweat on her skin. ‘Did you go?’ she croaked.

‘I did. Puss is fine. She sends her love.’

Despite the fact that Denise’s eyes were almost hidden in small slits due to the swelling of the tissue around them, Dewar saw relief appear in them.

‘Thanks. Thanks a lot,’ she said.

‘She’s quite a cat.’

‘She’s all I’ve got.’