Resurrection

TWENTY THREE

The electricity supply to the flat had been turned off — something they had anticipated; they were using torches they’d brought up from the ambulance. Grant stood by while Dewar knelt down in front of the kitchen sink and opened up the small cupboard below it. He emptied out the cupboard of various bottles of cleaning agents and accumulated a smelly pile of rags, scouring pads, dusters and old newspapers at his side. He stretched out and positioned himself on the floor to reach in and around the plastic trap in the sink drain to touch the plywood back board. It felt encouragingly loose.

He laid down his torch so that he could reach inside with both hands and begin manoeuvring it upwards with his palms. He did it a centimetre at a time in case it should suddenly give way and slip backwards. He didn’t want it breaking any glass vials that might be lying directly behind it.

‘How’s it going?’ asked Grant, who was becoming impatient at standing doing nothing in the cold darkness of the room as time ticked by.

‘Nearly there.’

Dewar felt the board suddenly become free of its improvised side channels. He tried unsuccessfully to turn it round to pull it out on the left side of the sink trap but it stuck fast. He tried again to the right and this time let out a sigh of relief as the board slid out past the drain pipe. He handed it to Grant who propped it up at the side of the cupboard. Dewar started to feel his way round the cavity at the back of the pipes. For one awful moment he thought there was nothing there but then his hand met a plastic wrapped package and he gripped it gently and pulled it out slowly. He could not have been more careful had it contained unstable nitro-glycerine.

‘Is that what you were after?’ asked Grant as Dewar turned to sit on the floor and shine his torch on the wrapping. He could see through the clear plastic that it contained about fifteen of the vials he’d first seen at the Hannans’ flat.

‘It’s them, all right,’ said Dewar. ‘We’ve got them back.’

‘Good. Let’s get out of here.’

Dewar put the board back behind the pipes and loaded the vials carefully into the metal paramedic equipment case he’d brought up from the ambulance. He used surgical dressing material to add extra padding and make sure they were well protected from any vibration or buffeting they were liable to encounter.

‘All ready,’ he said.

Dewar walked out on to the gangway and paused to look over the guard rail while Grant locked up the flat. Things still seemed very quiet. He could see the Great Bear in the clear northern sky and he could see the ambulance far below with the small figure of the boy standing beside it. Despite the fact that the boy was the only other living soul in evidence, he still had the uneasy feeling that their every move was being watched.

‘Like clockwork,’ said Grant enthusiastically as they made their way along to the lifts. ‘God, I wish all operations went like this. If I had a quid for every cock-up I’d been out on I’d be a rich man.’

Dewar wasn’t ready to relax just yet and Grant sensed the tension in him. Neither man spoke as they descended in the lift. Dewar watched the floor indicator, Grant read the graffiti which covered every inch of wall space despite the use of corrugated metal in an attempt to prevent this. The doors slid open and they stepped out into what appeared to be a deserted hallway. They had almost reached the front doors when several figures suddenly emerged from the darkness to surround them.

‘Haven’t you guys forgotten something?’ asked a swarthy, thickset man with greasy brushed-back black hair and a slight speech impediment which introduced a sibilant hiss to his voice. ‘A patient, maybe?’

‘Hoax call,’ said Dewar, gathering his wits quickly. ‘Happens all the time. Kids I suppose. Pain in the bloody arse. Don’t their parents teach them anything these days?’

‘Little buggers,’ added Grant.

‘But you went in to one of the flats. You were in there quite a long time,’ said the soft hissing voice.

They had been watched, thought Dewar. They were in real trouble. ‘We have to do that sometimes,’ he said. The caller was specific about the flat number so we had to check it out just in case someone was lying there unconscious or unable to get to the door.’

‘Are you telling us they give you pass keys these days?’ asked the man who was doing all the talking. His voice held a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Dewar didn’t like the man. His voice was a bit too even, a bit too controlled, intelligent and in his opinion, belonged to someone who was downright evil.

‘If they’re council flats,’ said Grant, also thinking quickly and taking over. ‘It’s a council initiative; there are simply so many old people living on their own these days.’

‘Bullshit!’ snapped the man with the hissing voice.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Bullshit,’ repeated hissing voice but he sounded even and controlled again. ‘You’re coppers. I’ve seen you before.’ He moved round to take a better look at them. ‘Grant, isn’t it? Inspector bloody Grant.’

‘You’re mistaken,’ growled Grant. ‘Now just stand aside and we’ll be on our way. We’ve got more to do than stand around here all day.’

‘Hold it!’

Three men moved in front of Dewar and Grant to bar their way.

‘Now what would the polis be wantin’ in Mike Kelly’s flat, d’you reckon, guys?’ continued the ring leader. ‘It would have to be something important enough for them to dress up for … ‘Naughty substances maybe? We’d have to be talking a substantial amount if they put a police inspector into fancy dress for it … Or was that your idea, Grant? Fancied some glory? Fancied seeing your name in the papers. “Police undercover squad in major drugs snatch”? I think we’d better have a wee look in that case you’re carrying pal …‘

As one of the men stepped forward to take the case from Dewar, Grant moved in between. ‘All right, I am the law and you are interfering with the police in the execution of their duty. Stand aside or I’ll do the lot of you for obstruction.’

‘My my, we are in trouble,’ said the hissing voice to the amusement of the others, then more harshly, ‘Right now you don’t mean jack-shit in this neck of the woods any more, Grant. Hand over the case!.’

Dewar knew there was no question of tacitly handing over the virus. The chips were down. It was five against two but there was no choice in the matter. In the event, it was Grant who opened the proceedings. He had been holding the stretcher in a vertical position while they spoke. Now he suddenly slid his hands down to the bottom and swung it round in a scything arc to catch two of the opposition in the face before they could move out the road.

Adrenaline flowed in a violent flurry of swinging feet and fists. Dewar was forced to put his careful packing of the vials to the test by using the metal case as a two handed battering ram to break through the two man barrier in front of him. For a moment there was nothing between him and the doors as the two fell like skittles.

‘Go!’ shouted Grant. ‘Get the fuck out of here!’ He threw Dewar the keys to the ambulance. Dewar caught them one-handed.

Dewar hesitated but only for a second. Grant was right. He had to get the virus out of this place but he hated to leave Grant on his own. He forced his way out through the glass doors, opening them with his shoulder as he held the case close to his body with both hands to avoid contact with the glass or precipitate any kind of fumble. He sprinted across the tarmac apron to the ambulance, knowing that there were running feet behind him but not turning to look as it would only slow him down.

He tried to unlock the door with fingers that had suddenly become all thumbs as haste cancelled dexterity. He finally found the right key and had succeeded in half pulling the door open when the boy who’d been guarding the vehicle cried out, ‘Behind you, mister!’

Dewar instinctively dropped to the ground and the body of the man pursuing him crashed straight over him slamming the door shut with his momentum as he fought to regain balance. Dewar got to his feet first and swung his fist several times into the body of the man, hoping to disable him before he could recover but recover he did in a testament to formidable strength. He suddenly whipped his ham-like fist back-handedly across Dewar’s face sending him to the ground with pain exploding inside his head like a starshell. Dewar just managed to get out of the way of the follow-up kick and get to his feet. There was little or no time to get his breath however as his opponent came hurtling in again to grab him in a vice-like grip and send both of them back to the ground.

Dewar felt the man’s hands grip his throat, obliging him to grasp his attacker’s wrists in a desperate attempt to free himself. To his dismay he found the man’s grip too strong to break. The pressure on his throat was increasing despite him using all his strength to force his hands apart. He had to concede there was no use in continuing with this and went for a desperate gamble. He let go the man’s wrists and sought out his fingers.

Despite the sudden increase in pressure on his throat, that he’d anticipated and which threatened him with unconsciousness he managed to find his attacker’s little fingers and succeeded in getting real purchase on one of them. Focusing all his remaining strength, he bent it violently backwards against the joint as hard as he could and heard it snap. The man let out a scream of pain and let go of Dewar’s throat.

Dewar took in a huge lungful of night air. He knew he only had as long as the man was concentrating on his broken finger to take the initiative. He rolled over on the ground and sprang to his feet to aim a vicious kick at the man’s head. Right now the human consequences didn’t matter. This was a fight he had to win. The man tried to duck but Dewar’s foot still connected with his cheek bone and it shattered under the blow. The man slumped into unconsciousness, suddenly no longer a problem.

Dewar looked up to see another of the men starting to run out from the flats. He recovered the metal case from where he’d left it at the side of the vehicle and got into the cab to turn the key. He revved the engine hard and flung the gear stick forward into first but froze with his foot on the clutch. He knew exactly what he had to do. His clear priority was to get the virus out of this God-forsaken hell hole and into safe hands as quickly as possible but he’d just found that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave Grant there to suffer the consequences.

Grant was a powerful man, an experienced street-wise copper who knew how to handle himself but the odds against him were overwhelming. The bastards would probably kill him. Dewar let out the clutch and swung the vehicle round to race over the tarmac back towards the flats. The man running towards him had to dive out of the way as Dewar drove straight through him without varying his line. He could see three figures through the glass; they were kicking at something on the ground.

‘Bastards!’ He turned the headlights on full beam and crashed the vehicle straight through the doors to enter the hallway. The armoured glass frontage exploded into a million fragments, showering the yobs in clouds of glass shards as they sprang back from Grant’s prostrate body. They split into two and one. Dewar drove the vehicle at the pair who presented a bigger target and caught the legs of one as he failed to get out of the way quick enough. Two down, three to go. In a crunching of gears Dewar turned the vehicle and raced it over the floor to have a go at the other man before finally swinging it round and screeching to a halt beside Grant’s still body.

He got out of the vehicle and ran round the front to pull Grant up by his shoulders and feed him into the cab as quickly as he could but it still took time; Grant was heavy. He felt as if life had gone into slow-motion. It seemed to take an eternity before he finally tucked Grant’s feet inside and slammed the door shut. He ran round to get in the driver’s side just as one of the yobs — the man who’d dived out of the way on the tarmac outside, came hurtling towards him. Dewar grabbed the cab’s fire extinguisher and swung it round to smash the base of it into the new arrival’s face. The man fell backwards, teeth and blood spilling from his mouth, his screams stifled into a liquid gurgle. Dewar revved the engine to screaming point and burst out of the hallway to race across the tarmac apron and up on to the road. He turned on the blue lights and set the siren wailing as he jammed the accelerator pedal to the floor and kept it there.

He was now running on pure adrenaline. He had to get help for Grant but the truth was that he wasn’t at all sure if the policeman was still alive. He glanced to the side and saw that his face was practically unrecognisable. Nausea was added to his anger. He swerved round the burned — out Escort with taking his foot off the pedal and raced up to the hill leading down to where gap tooth and his friends had their barrier. As before, figures moved out into the road, signalling him to stop.

‘That’ll be right,’ muttered Dewar as he headed towards them at full pelt with all the fired-up zeal of a Japanese kamikaze pilot

One of the yobs realised he wasn’t going to stop and lit something he’d been holding in his hand. Dewar saw the arc of flame against the night sky as the yob threw the Molotov cocktail. The bottle smashed on the road in front of him allowing the lit paraffin rag in its neck to ignite the spilling petrol and sending up a yellow wall of flame. Dewar was going so fast it scarcely mattered. What mattered more was the half brick that came crashing in through the windscreen and hit him on the left temple.

The windscreen had taken the brunt of the impact and most of the momentum out of the throw but Dewar still felt himself go woozy as he fought to find vision through the shattered glass by punching at it with his fist until he had a hole big enough to see out through. He hadn’t taken his foot off the accelerator throughout. The ambulance was swinging madly from side to side as he fought to control it until finally, he hurtled out of the no-go area into the relative safety of beyond.

Dewar put his hand to his head as he slowed the vehicle. Blood was trickling down his face and he felt dizzy. He looked at Grant’s unconscious body and shattered face and recognised that he was still the lucky one. ‘Please God, you’re alive, old son,’ he muttered as he caught sight of Health Board vehicles parked outside one of the schools they were going to be using as a vaccination centre. He pulled in behind them, slightly misjudging the distance and hitting the rear bumper of the last one in line. He got out to find help.

Dewar felt himself become even more dizzy as he entered through the swing doors of the main hall and sought support from the wall at the side as a blurred figure came towards him and a female voice said, ‘Adam! My God, what’s happened to you? You’re hurt!’ It was Karen.

Karen helped Dewar to a seat and made him put his head between his legs for a few moments until proper blood circulation to his brain had been restored.

‘Grant … He’s outside in the ambulance,’ he stammered…. ‘You’ve got to help him … He’s badly hurt.’

Karen organised help for Grant and returned to Dewar. ‘You’ve had a nasty blow on the head,’ she said. ‘I take it you two have been out recovering the something that was lost?’

Dewar agreed.

‘Successfully?’

‘We got the virus … The case in the ambulance. It has the vials in it … Don’t leave them there. Got to get them … ’

Karen put a restraining hand on his shoulder and said, ‘It’s all right, I’ll do it. Just sit still for a few minutes.’ She returned in under half a minute with the case and put it down at Dewar’s side. ‘Feel better?’ she asked with a smile.

Dewar nodded. ‘How’s Grant?’ he asked in trepidation.

‘He’s in a bit of a mess. ‘His nose and cheek bones have been smashed; his jaw is broken in three places and several ribs have gone. They can’t be sure about damage to internal organs at the moment but an ambulance is on its way to take him up to the Royal Infirmary.’

‘Is he going to pull through?’

‘I wouldn’t bet my salary on it, but I’d say, yes. Superintendent Tulloch is on his way over.’

‘Tulloch? Just what we need.’

‘One of the others called him when they saw the state of Inspector Grant. It’s right he should know,’ said Karen.

I suppose so,’ agreed Dewar. ‘But maybe I can be out of here by the time he comes.’ He made to get up but Karen stopped him. ‘You’re not going anywhere for the moment,’ she said. ‘You’re concussed.’

‘I was never actually unconscious,’ argued Dewar.

‘You soon will be if you don’t do what you’re told. You’re in no fit state to go anywhere. What d’you have to do that’s so important?’

‘I’ll feel happier when the vials are a long way from here,’ said Dewar.

‘Someone else can take care of them. I strongly suggest you go up to the hospital for a check up with Inspector Grant in the ambulance.’

Tulloch and the ambulance for Grant arrived almost together. Tulloch watched mutely while the Grant’s broken and unconscious body was loaded into the back and the doors closed. Dewar declined to go with him. He decided to face Tulloch instead.

‘What the hell happened?’ stormed Tulloch. What were you doing in the no-go area? Of all the irresponsible … ’

Dewar’s head hurt but he was in no mood to roll over. ‘There was nothing irresponsible about it!’ he retorted. ‘Do you honestly think we wanted to go in there? Do you think we did it for a laugh? A dare? Use your brain man. We had to go in.’

‘For God’s sake, why?’

‘Because there was enough smallpox virus hidden in Aberdour Court to wipe out the entire city and most of the county besides. Grant and I went in to recover it and we succeeded.’

Tulloch looked at Dewar unsure of what to say. ‘This is all incredible. I’ll wait until I hear what Inspector Grant has to say before I take this further but as I see it, disciplinary measures will be inevitable.’

Dewar said coldly, ‘Assuming Inspector Grant lives, the only measures you will be taking with respect to him will comprise a strong commendation for a bravery award. He’s the real reason the virus is currently sitting in that case instead of a flat half way up a concrete tower in the middle of a no-go area controlled by yobs. As to why there should be a no-go area at all … ‘

Dewar sensed that Tulloch had taken the point. He continued, ‘Right now there are some shitheads out there who’re pretty miffed that two policemen, as they saw it, broke in and took something — they know not what, from the flats but that’s only made them look foolish in front of the others. They’re not going to be able to start a war on the back of that whereas a full scale operation with police riot squads might have had a very different outcome.’

Tulloch did not choose to argue with the logic.

‘All the same, I think you’d do well to strengthen the area round the road leading up to Aberdour Court. It could be bonfire night again. They’ll probably block off the road too to make sure it no one else tries to gate crash them but with a bit of luck, that’s as far as it’ll go.’

‘And the virus?’

‘I’ll make arrangements for it but I’ll need transport. My car’s sitting at police headquarters.’

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘Back to the Scottish Office. Maybe one of your people could contact Dr Malloy and ask him to meet me there.’

Tulloch nodded. ‘I’ll arrange a suitable escort.’

As Tulloch turned away, Karen returned to remonstrate with Dewar again. He held up both hands, saying, ‘Honestly, I’m fine and I’m getting a lift back to the Scottish Office so there’s no driving involved. I’ll see that all the vials are handed over to Steven Malloy and then I can sleep easy.’

‘I really wish you’d stay here tonight where I can keep an eye on you if I can’t persuade you to go to hospital where you really should be.’

‘I’ll be fine.’

Karen looked for a moment as if she was going to continue the argument then her expression softened and she said, ‘Go straight to bed after you’ve handed over the vials?’

‘I promise.’

They kissed but the sound of a large truck pulling up outside interrupted them.

‘It’s the vaccine!’ said a voice by the door. Karen and Dewar resumed their hug.

‘Thank God,’ said Karen.

‘He usually gets the credit,’ muttered Dewar. ‘Pity no one questions his creation of smallpox in the first place.’

A powerful police traffic-division car with four motor cycle outriders took Dewar back to the Scottish Office. He sat in the back with the case containing the vials on his knee deep in thought. The only advantage offered by this ‘parade’ — as he saw it, was that neither officer in the front asked him anything about the case or its contents. Presumably they had been instructed not to by Tulloch. This was fine; he didn’t feel like talking. The silence however, did allow him to consider another aspect of the package he was carrying. It was not only very dangerous, it was also very valuable. There were people, already in this city, who might pay as much as a million pounds for it and he was about to hand it over to an unemployed scientist named Steven Malloy.

Dewar trusted Malloy but he remembered having an earlier conversation with him about what people would and would not do where large sums of money were concerned. He remembered Malloy ‘hoping’ that he would have the resolve to turn down the offer of a huge sum if it involved him doing something against principle. Was hope good enough in this instance?

Half way through the journey, Dewar began to see his accompanying police officers as the solution to his problem. He leaned forward and said he’d like to speak to Tulloch. The officer in the passenger seat made radio contact and gave the handset to Dewar.

‘Superintendent? I’d like to requisition your officers for another assignment. I’d like them to accompany the case to its final destination and oversee it’s destruction.’

‘Won’t these vials be required as evidence?’

‘We can sterilise them without destroying them physically. No one’s going to check what they contain is still alive.’

‘I’m not sure that tampering with evidence is … ‘

‘My responsibility,’ interrupted Dewar.

‘As you say.’

‘Square it with your men, will you?’ Dewar handed back the handset to the front seat officer and listened in while Tulloch told him that they should take their orders from him.’

‘Are you armed?’ Dewar asked.

‘This is an armed response vehicle, sir.’

‘Good. I’m going to hand over a package to Dr Steven Malloy when we get to the Scottish Office. You are going to accompany Dr Malloy to the Institute of Molecular Sciences at the university and watch him sterilise this package in a steam steriliser. Although this is a formality, at no time is the package to leave your sight. Understood?’

‘Sir.’

‘There will be a temperature gauge on the steriliser. Watch the needle climb over 120 degrees centigrade and watch it stay there for at least fifteen minutes. After that you can relax and return to normal duty.’

‘Does this mean there’s a chance Dr Malloy won’t comply with the sterilising procedure, sir?’ asked the officer.

‘A very slight one.’

‘What then?’

‘You inform him that you’re armed; show him your gun and tell him to hand over the package. Bring it back here.’

‘And if he argues?’

‘Shoot him and recover the package. Stay where you are and telephone me.’

‘Bloody hell.’

‘”Bloody hell” is what could happen if the package escapes. Is that all clear?’

‘Sir.’

The rest of the journey was completed in silence and one officer held the door for Dewar when he got out at the end. He was escorted inside. Hector Wright was there to meet him.

‘Well done, Adam,’ said Wright.

‘Christ, I’m knackered,’ said Dewar, anxious to avoid embarrassment. ‘Is Malloy here yet?’

‘Not yet, but the vaccine is. It arrived half an hour ago.’

‘I know, I stopped at one of the centres in the estate.

Dewar took the case upstairs and opened it up to add the vials he’d brought back from Tommy Hannan’s flat to the padded bundle. He added yet more padding and

several layers of adhesive tape round the outside. He emptied the case of everything else and put the vials back to bring it downstairs where Malloy was now waiting.

‘Hello Steve,’ he said. ‘We got all of them back.’

‘Well done. What do want me for?’

‘We want the vials sterilised but not destroyed; they might be required as evidence. I though you could autoclave them at the institute?’

‘Sure, if that’s what you want. Right now?’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘No,’ replied Malloy.

These police officers will take you over and bring you back when it’s done.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ said Malloy. ‘I’ve got my car outside.’

‘We’ll have to do this by the book, I’m afraid,’ said Dewar. ‘Still, it’s not often you get an armed escort to work.’ He opened up the case and showed Malloy and the two police officers the contents. ‘It can go straight into the steriliser,’ he said.

Dewar could tell by the look on Malloy’s face that he’d taken all the key points on board. The police weren’t letting him out of their sight; they were armed and there was no reason for him to open up the package.

Malloy looked Dewar in the eye and said accusingly, ‘I’ve no problem with that, Adam. Still looking for a bogey man at the institute?’

‘Just procedure, Steve,’ said Dewar but he felt bad.