He didn’t fall asleep until what passed for daylight in Edinburgh on a morning in February appeared in the sky, and assured him that the demons of the night had gone. He dozed until eleven before taking a lukewarm shower and making himself some coffee and toast. His flatmates were out at work so he had the kitchen to himself as he planned the day ahead. There was now no need for him to stay away from the department. Tom Baxter’s confession had absolved him from any blame over what had happened to Mary. He and Frank had to talk, and the sooner the better.
Frank wasn’t in the lab when Gavin arrived and there was no sign of him having been there: no jacket hanging behind the door in his office and no battered briefcase sitting at the side of his desk. Gavin’s nerves stopped him hanging around waiting. He went down to the cell culture suite to see if relations had improved now that the staff knew that he wasn’t to blame for the fire.
He found Trish in contrite mood. ‘I’m so sorry, Gavin. We never dreamt that anything like that could happen, in the university of all places. Everyone was so sure it had to have been an accident, then when we heard that Tom Baxter had set the whole thing up deliberately... he must have been off his head. Makes you wonder who you’re working beside these days...’
‘The sooner we start picking up the pieces and getting back to normal the better,’ said Gavin.
‘Do you think you can? I mean, apart from you, Frank’s group has virtually gone... his lab’s a complete mess...’
‘We’ve got to try,’ said Gavin. ‘If you believe in what you’re doing you have to get on with it. Looking backwards never got anyone anywhere.’
Trish shrugged uncertainly.
‘I’m going to see if someone will give me lab space to set up a few experiments. I was wondering where I was in the queue for cell cultures right now?’
Trish looked as if she was walking on eggshells. ‘Honestly, Gavin, I’d love to be able to tell you that we’ll get right on to it, but a problem has come up. We had a circular round from Professor Sutcliffe. He says that all requests made under Frank Simmons’ grant numbers should be suspended for the time being...’
‘What for?’ exclaimed Gavin. ‘There’s loads of money in the accounts. Frank’s one of the best-funded scientists in the department.’
‘I’m sure you’re right...’ Trish looked uncomfortable. ‘But I don’t see how we can ignore it. Maybe you should speak to the prof?’
Gavin knocked on Liz’s door and entered. She looked as if she had been expecting him. ‘He’s on the phone at the moment. I’ll ask if he’ll see you when he’s finished.’
Gavin nodded, and turned his attention to the painting on the wall while Liz got back to her typing. He was on the third tilt of his head in a search for a meaningful angle when Liz said, ‘That’s him finished.’ She pressed the intercom button and said, ‘Gavin Donnelly wonders if he might have a word?’
‘Give me a couple of minutes.’
Liz made a face and Gavin turned his attention back to the picture on the wall. Five minutes later, Sutcliffe opened the door of his office and said, ‘Come in, Gavin. I’m glad you dropped by. I wasn’t sure if you’d be in today.’
‘I’ve just been down in the cell culture suite. They tell me Frank’s grants have been suspended?’
‘Frank and I had a long conversation last night,’ said Sutcliffe, ignoring what Gavin had said. ‘There was a meeting up at Old College. Understandably, he’s very upset over what happened to Mary and Tom, and the faculty wanted to do anything they could to help. Frank will be taking some time off to rest and recover. He’s been granted six months’ leave of absence, effective immediately. I understand he and Jenny plan to visit relatives in Australia.’
‘Australia?’ exclaimed Gavin. ‘Six months?’
‘What with his lab being out of action and everything else that’s gone on, it seems like the right time. That is why I took the step of suspending the use of his grants this morning. Everything is going into suspended animation, as it were.’
Gavin sat, wide-eyed and speechless.
‘And you, of course, are wondering where this leaves you...’
I have to finish off the experiments for the paper we’re about to submit,’ said Gavin, feeling totally disorientated. ‘I need more cell cultures...’
‘There’s no question of you carrying out unsupervised research,’ said Sutcliffe, pausing to let the words sink in. ‘Frank, of course, expressed concern for your immediate future, and I have made preliminary enquiries about the possibility of an alternative supervisor for you. Jack Martin — very kindly I thought in the circumstances — would be agreeable to taking you on... but on the clear understanding that you would work on one of his projects. It wouldn’t be too late to change; you’ve only been here six months, and I’m sure the first-year review committee would take that into consideration when the time came for your first-year assessment.’
‘I need to finish off the Valdevan work,’ said Gavin. ‘It won’t take long and it won’t be expensive.’
‘I’m afraid that is out of the question.’
The words hit Gavin like a death sentence. The curtain had fallen, and he hadn’t even heard the fat lady sing. It was over. Game, set and match to Sutcliffe. The anger and impotence he felt made him get up from his chair and leave the room without saying another word.
‘Let me know your decision,’ said Sutcliffe pleasantly to his back.
‘All right?’ asked Liz as he passed.
‘Bastard,’ murmured Gavin.
He had to speak to Frank, was his one thought as he hurried along the corridor to the lab. What the hell was he playing at? Two technicians from the computing support group were coming out of the lab as he arrived. ‘Problems?’ he asked.
‘No, everything’s fine,’ said one.
Gavin sat down on Simmons’ chair in his office and called his home number. Jenny answered.
‘Jenny? It’s Gavin Donnelly. I need to speak to Frank.’
‘I’m sorry, Gavin. Frank needs a few days away from everything to do with the lab. I really don’t want anyone bothering him.’
‘It’s important.’
‘So is his health.’
‘Yes, sorry, of course. Maybe I could come and see him in a couple of days’ time? There’s quite a lot we have to sort out.’
‘I’m sure.’
Gavin’s head was spinning. What on earth was Frank thinking of, going away for six months when they were so close to finishing the Valdevan work? He desperately needed something to cling to, and right now, anything would do. He tried building a raft with positives. He had the drugs safely at home in the flat; he had a copy of Frank’s first draft of the paper, and he had all his notes containing the raw data. He saw that it would be more convenient to have electronic versions of both, so they could be transferred more easily, so he turned on Frank’s computer to make copies from the hard drive to disk. But as he did so, his blood ran cold, and he suddenly realised why the computer technicians had been in the lab. He had the confirmation in front of him. The hard drive on Frank Simmons’ computer had been wiped clean. The master copy of the paper had been deleted. He rushed out into the lab to check the other computers. All the hard drives had been wiped.
For the very first time in dealing with opposition to his work, Gavin felt fear enter the equation. Anger and frustration were no longer his leading emotions. The opposition were winning, and he felt powerless to do anything. At that particular moment, there was no record anywhere in the department of the work he’d done on Valdevan, and when he turned down Jack Martin’s offer of an alternative PhD project — as they must know he would — Sutcliffe would have the MRC cancel his grant, resulting in there being no record of him either. Gavin Donnelly would be a soon-to-be-forgotten name who had once spent six months in the department before giving up and leaving. You had to respect opposition like that.