‘Will you return to London today?’ asked Milne.
Tomorrow,’ replied Bannerman.
Bannerman thought it right that he should lend a hand with the clean-up in the rooms affected by the fire. Many of the labs contained dangerous chemicals as well as stocks of bacteria and viruses which demanded skilled handling. Portering and domestic staff would work on the corridors and common-rooms. He put on protective clothing, borrowed from the post-mortem rooms, and asked Morag Napier where he could be most useful.
Morag looked at him as if she hadn’t heard and he repeated his question.
‘Sorry, I was thinking about something,’ she said. The tissue culture suite is in a bit of a mess. Perhaps you’d care to salvage what you can?’
Bannerman said that he would do what he could.
A junior technician interrupted to ask Morag something and she almost snapped the girl’s head off, then looked embarrassed when she realized that Bannerman had witnessed her behaviour. She made some excuse for leaving and walked quickly away.
‘Doctor Napier is upset,’ said Bannerman to the technician. ‘Perhaps you could give me a hand in the tissue culture suite?’
With the mess cleared up from the tissue culture room floor and having thoroughly disinfected it, Bannerman and the technician set about salvaging what glassware they could and packed it into bins for washing and re-sterilizing. When they had filled the last of the bins Bannerman suggested, ‘Why don’t you go have a cup of tea?’ The girl readily agreed.
Bannerman closed the door behind him and started walking along the corridor. Half way along he paused when he thought he heard the sound of a woman crying. There was no mistake. He looked into the room the sound was coming from, half expecting it to be Morag Napier because of her earlier nervous state, and found someone else. It was Lorna Cullen, the animal technician he had met yesterday.
Bannerman felt awkward. It wasn’t a situation he felt comfortable dealing with but there was no one else around he could call on. He approached the woman and sat down beside her. ‘It can’t be that bad,’ he said gently.
The woman looked up at him and said bitterly, Tell me about it. I’ve just been fired.’
‘Why?’
The professor blames me for all this.’
‘What?’
‘He says I left the door to the animal lab unlocked and that’s how the terrorists got in.’
‘Oh,’ said Bannerman, remembering that the door had been unlocked yesterday.
‘But I didn’t!’ protested the technician. That’s what’s so unfair!’
‘But can you be sure?’ asked Bannerman gently.
‘Yes damn it! I can! You gave me such a fright yesterday when you walked in on me that it was fresh in my mind. I made very sure I locked the door when I left. I even remember trying the door after I had locked it to make certain.’
‘I see,’ said Bannerman. ‘So how did they get in?’
The woman looked at him again, her face showing that she knew she would not be believed when she said, They must have used a key.’
Bannerman’s face betrayed the fact that he found this unlikely and the woman conceded it herself. ‘But that’s the only explanation,’ she said, wringing her hands helplessly. They must have. I locked the door. I know I did.’
‘Do you live far from here?’ asked Bannerman.
‘Leith.’
That’s down by the sea isn’t it?’
The woman nodded.
‘Do you have a car?’
The woman shook her head.
‘Get your coat. I’ll take you home.’
Still holding her handkerchief to her face, Lorna Cullen went off to fetch her coat while Bannerman sought out Morag Napier and told her what he was going to do.
‘Why?’
‘Stoddart fired her.’
Bannerman walked off leaving Morag Napier staring after him, wide-eyed but silent.
By seven in the evening Bannerman had packed up all his belongings and was ready to return to London the next morning. He had taken the car back to the rental company, cleared his desk in the medical school and had thanked Stoddart for his hospitality. He couldn’t find Morag Napier to say goodbye to her but had asked Stoddart to do it for him and to thank her for her help. He had tried to put in a good word for Lorna Cullen but Stoddart was unwilling to move on the subject. The damned woman was always leaving the place open,’ he maintained.
Bannerman stood quietly at the window looking out over the lights of the city and noting for once that the wind had dropped. The dark silhouettes of the trees in Princes Street Gardens were motionless. The stars had come out in a clear sky and there was a suggestion of moonlight behind the castle rock. He wished that he could have felt better about his trip, but the truth was that he felt thoroughly dejected. His investigation had been thwarted at every turn, leaving him feeling empty and frustrated. There was only one thing he wanted to do now, and that was get drunk.
He was about to leave when the telephone rang. Fearing that it might be George Stoddart asking him to dinner, Bannerman prepared his excuse for not going and picked up the receiver. It was Shona MacLean.
‘Hello, Ian. I’m back home on the island.’
‘Oh God it’s so good to hear your voice,’ he blurted out.
‘I’m glad you said that,’ said Shona, ‘because I don’t have a good reason for calling. I just wanted to hear your voice.’
‘That’s good enough,’ said Bannerman quickly, knowing that if he slowed down his response he would start considering his replies and editing them. If he answered quickly there was a chance that the truth might get out. “There was so much I wanted to say this morning and didn’t. I’ve got to see you again.’
‘But how?’
‘I don’t know how,’ said Bannerman. ‘Just tell me that you want to see me?’
‘Yes,’ said Shona. ‘I want that.’
‘Then we’ll work something out,’ said Bannerman.
‘I’m so glad I phoned,’ said Shona.
‘You’re glad?’ laughed Bannerman.
‘Did you get your experiments finished today?’ asked Shona.
Bannerman told her about the fire.
‘That’s awful!’ exclaimed Shona. ‘You won’t be able to prove that Scrapie was to blame.’
‘No,’ agreed Bannerman. ‘It’s all been one big waste of time.’
‘Maybe you should get drunk,’ said Shona.
That’s exactly what I intend doing,’ said Bannerman. ‘You caught me just as I was about to leave.’
‘Then I won’t hold you back any more,’ said Shona. ‘Call me tomorrow?’
‘You bet.’
After a couple of drinks Bannerman’s euphoria over Shona’s call and his relief at his honesty in telling her how he felt, began to subside. He had no doubts about his feelings for Shona but he began to see some of the problems he was creating. How could he hope to carry on a relationship with Shona when he worked in London and she lived on a remote island? One of them would have to move and he could imagine Shona’s thoughts about a move to London. Bannerman’s head started to protest under the relentless assault of his own questions. He dealt with them, temporarily, with a third drink and then decided to find something to eat.
There was a Greek restaurant not too far from the last pub he had been in, so he opted for that. He ordered a traditional dish and asked for a carafe of the house red. When it came, the wine wasn’t good, but it didn’t matter so long as it continued to dull the cutting edge of reality. He sipped it slowly while waiting for his food and amused himself by looking at the obligatory travel posters of Greece on the walls.
They’d make it seem a lot more like Greece if they’d heat the bloody place properly, he thought as the door opened and another blast of cold air swept in. He looked round at the new arrivals and was surprised to see Morag Napier standing there. She was with a man who Bannerman deduced must be her fiance. He got a brief glimpse of a handsome man in his twenties before Morag walked over to his table and said, ‘Dr Bannerman, what a surprise. I didn’t think I’d get a chance to say goodbye. Professor Stoddart said that you’d left already.’