‘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.’
TWENTY-TWO
Dewar called Karen’s mobile number on the way back. ‘Where are you just now?’ he asked.