‘Good idea,’ said Macmillan.
‘No problem getting the info from UK banks,’ said Jean, ‘but, if we’re talking Swiss bank accounts and off-shore shenanigans, it might get a bit trickier.’
‘The government has been making inroads into obtaining information about secret Swiss accounts,’ said Macmillan. ‘It’s not as easy as it used to be to squirrel away cash in Zurich. If we link our request to an ongoing murder and high-level crime investigation there’s a chance, we can make it difficult for the gnomes to refuse.’
‘Sounds promising,’ said Steven.
‘But it won’t tell us what the dead four have been up to.’
‘No,’ agreed Steven, ‘It will however, give us a sense of perspective, tell us if they’ve been stealing sweeties or planning to topple governments.’
Jean asked Steven if he still wanted her to set up a meeting with Simon Pashley’s widow.
‘Not right now,’ he replied. ‘Let’s wait until we have more info about how much money has been floating around. If it’s significant, we can tackle both widows over what they knew about it.’
Steven told Tally about the latest two victims.
‘Don’t you think this is a matter for the police?’
‘We spoke about that,’ said Steven, ‘but with two senior UK medics and a WHO official involved, John thinks that’s enough to maintain Sci-Med’s interest for the moment.’
‘Mm,’ said Tally doubtfully. ‘All I see is torture, murder and the involvement of an investment banker, not exactly a cocktail for peace of mind.’
Steven told Tally about the plan to find out more about the sums of money involved.
‘If it warrants murder, I can’t see it turning out to be a few quid in backhanders from a pharma company, can you?’
‘No,’ Steven agreed, ‘I can’t.’
‘So, when you find out it’s big bucks, what then?’
‘If we think there are any scientific or medical concerns, we try to find out who paid them and why they did it.’
‘Just like that.’
Steven sensed he was on a collision course with Tally and didn’t like the feeling. It wasn’t the first time the dangers of his job had become a factor in their relationship.
‘Steven, if people out there are prepared to torture and murder in the most horrible way, how do you think they’re going to feel about you poking your nose in?’
‘What’s that saying about evil triumphing if good folks do nothing?’ Steven snapped.
‘Why do you always have to be the good folk?’
‘Because it’s my job and I’m good at it. I am not some amateur poking my nose in, as you would have it.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, I just can’t bear to see you put yourself in harm’s way when we have a large police force...’
‘Other good folk,’ said Steven.
Tally conceded the point with a slight smile.
‘Tally, Sci-Med only exists because the police don’t always have the necessary expertise to understand what’s going on in science and medicine. We’re there to provide that expertise, not to engage in heroics. Once we see what’s going on, we will be only too happy to hand things over to the police... promise.’
Tally nodded, but said, ‘It doesn’t always work out that way, does it?’
It was Steven’s turn to concede the point.
‘It’s only because I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
A hug ended the discussion.
Steven asked Tally about her day.
‘Busy, but well organised and with everything I needed to hand.’
Steven smiled. Tally had never quite got over the difference she’d found in moving from an NHS hospital in Leicester to a well-funded, world famous hospital like Great Ormond Street in London where the great and good were always keen to associate themselves with it.
‘You know, there’s one thing that keeps troubling me,’ said Tally. ‘I’ve been getting daily updates on the Ebola situation in DRC–I suppose it’s because I was the hospital rep at the initial meeting.’
‘And?’
‘I don’t understand why the subject has disappeared from public consciousness. The press isn’t bothering to cover it and things are not going well.’
‘Yesterday’s news,’ Steven suggested.
‘But it shouldn’t be,’ Tally retorted, ‘A disease like that could wipe us all out and we seem to be burying our heads in the sand or arguing about trade tariffs and Irish borders.’
‘You don’t think they’re getting on top of things with all the money that’s been flooding in to finance volunteers and equipment?’
‘I think it’s proving hard to vaccinate in clever circles made on maps when it takes all day to travel twenty kilometres because there are no roads. Successful vaccination is largely dependent on getting to contacts as quickly as possible and that needs planning and management. Apart from that, the volunteers are running up against witch doctors who tell people that vaccines are a western plot to poison them and give them herbs instead, and then there are those who claim to be able to cure Ebola by prayer alone.’
‘I was about to say it’s another world,’ Steven confessed, ‘but it’s not.’
No, it’s not,’ agreed Tally. ‘I just wish the authorities would wake up to that before it’s too late.’
Tally withdrew a thick file from her briefcase and answered Steven’s inquiring gaze with, ‘I have to get up to speed with DRC if I’m to keep getting these updates. They keep saying they’d welcome comments and I can’t comment unless I know what I’m talking about.’
‘The government seems to manage,’ said Steven, narrowly avoiding a swipe with the file. ‘I take it we’re not going out for a drink then?’
‘No, we’re not.’
‘Okay, I’ll go for a run instead.’
Steven liked to keep fit, but didn’t like gyms, preferring instead to run through streets and parkland. The length of the run would vary with how much he had on his mind. The idea was that he would run at an undemanding pace until he felt better about the things that were troubling him and then increase his pace so that the last fifteen minutes would leave him drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. He would finish off with a variable number of press-ups — variable because he did them until he no longer could and collapsed to lie with his cheek on the ground. This always made him remember his training with Special Forces when a drill sergeant would look down at his exhausted body in the Welsh mountains and suggest, ‘Let’s do that all over again... shall we?’
Giving up was not an option. You didn’t give up. Your body did... but you didn’t.
‘Yugh,’ Tally exclaimed when Steven came through the door, ‘don’t come anywhere near me like that... and don’t drip on the floor.’
‘Yes dear,’ Steven replied meekly, but the joke appeared lost on Tally who had gone back to concentrating on her papers. ‘That it has come to this...’ Steven continued the joke sadly as he headed for the shower.
He was half way through a second chorus of April Love when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and whirled round to find Tally standing there naked. She took the sponge from his hand and put her finger to her lips to suggest he didn’t speak.
‘It hasn’t quite come to that, Dunbar...’
Two Weeks Later
Steven found Jean Roberts gazing out of the window when he arrived on Tuesday morning. She didn’t turn around when he closed the door, so he asked, ‘Everything all right?’
Still without turning, she said, ‘You know that feeling you get when you feel a storm is coming and you’re just waiting for first giant raindrops to fall before all hell is let loose...’