‘Really?’
‘I’ve got funding.’
‘You’re kidding. Wow, that’s great news. How much are we talking about?’
‘A lot,’ said Dorothy, putting her elbows on the desk and leaning forward conspiratorially. ‘Enough to keep the university happy for the foreseeable future, enough to make everyone in the group secure and enough to expand the lab to at least twice our size. We can even have our own biochemistry section, working exclusively for us instead of having to wait our turn to have things put through the analysers.’
‘So, who’s come up with that sort of cash? Did the drug company have second thoughts?’
Dorothy seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying, ‘No, it’s all a bit mysterious, but the funding organisation wishes to remain anonymous for the time being.’
Barrowman was dumbstruck for a few moments. ‘I don’t understand. Why on earth would they want to do that?’
‘I don’t know, but you know what they say about looking a gift horse in the mouth.’
‘How long is the agreement for?’
‘They’ve agreed to support an expanded group and equip it for three years.’
‘That’s what you asked the government for. This is wonderful, but what do these people hope to get out of their investment?’
Dorothy made a vague gesture with her hands.
Barrowman was clearly bemused. ‘I’m sorry... I feel as if I’m being asked to believe in Santa Claus. There must be strings attached, conditions?’
Dorothy approached her answer as if walking on broken glass. ‘They insist on seeing our results before they’re submitted for publication.’
‘And?’
Dorothy broke off eye contact and looked down at the table. ‘They would have the final say over what gets made public and what doesn’t.’
‘What?’ Barrowman exclaimed, prompting Dorothy to raise her hands in a mock defensive gesture.
‘Calm down, think about it. It’s not going to be a problem. Why would they want to hush up important findings if they were actually funding the project?’
Barrowman fell silent for a few moments, feeling that this was all a bit much to take in after the day he’d had. Eventually he confessed, ‘This is giving me such a bad feeling.’
‘Frankly, I’d happily take money from a baby’s piggy bank right now,’ said Dorothy. ‘Look, if our research went well, these people would probably just want to make sure their contribution was fully recognised in the papers we publish.’
Barrowman shook his head. ‘I hate the idea of other people — anonymous people — people we don’t know anything about — having control. It could be a money laundering scheme.’
Dorothy looked extremely doubtful about that suggestion.
‘All right, I don’t know what a money laundering scheme is, but we could work for years on something and if they didn’t want our findings made public that would be an end to it — and probably the careers of all those of us involved.’
‘Oh, come on, Owen.’
‘So what aspect of our research attracted them?’
‘Yours.’
Barrowman’s mouth fell open. It had been a pretty awful day, but unbelievably it was getting worse. ‘How could they possibly know what I’ve been doing?’
‘I told them.’
‘You told them?’ Barrowman exclaimed.
‘Look, the university requested that I meet with some people who might possibly be interested in funding cutting edge research to use their term. These people weren’t introduced to me by name or organisation so it was obvious they had little to do with the usual funding bodies. That suggests that they would be more interested in investment rather than scientific progress — venture capitalists if you like. I gave a talk about the work going on in my research group — I felt I had nothing to lose. I’ve just about run out of grant money and the technicians are already applying for other jobs. Why would I refuse?’
Barrowman ignored the question. ‘How much did you tell them about what I’m doing?’
‘I told them about your PhD work and said that I thought you might be on the trail of some interesting connections between genes associated with certain psychotic disorders and, if all went well, how they might be controlled.’
‘I see.’
Dorothy picked up on the annoyance in Barrowman’s voice. ‘Owen, you’ve had a hard day: you’re not in a position to think clearly. Why don’t we stop here and get a good night’s sleep, we’ll have a full group meeting tomorrow and talk things through rationally.’
Barrowman gave a reluctant nod before getting up and leaving without further comment.
Lucy Barrowman looked on in bemusement as her husband headed straight for the whisky bottle — a half full bottle of Bell’s which had lain largely untouched since New Year time — and poured himself a large measure before swilling it down.
‘Well, hello to you too,’ she said accusingly. ‘I take it we’ve not had the best of days?’
‘Sorry,’ grunted Barrowman, fighting the fire in his throat. ‘Shit awful. I think I’m going to be looking for a job.’
‘Well?’ Lucy prompted as the silence continued. ‘Are you going to tell me why?’
Barrowman told her.
‘Does it really matter where the money comes from?’
‘Of course, it matters. These anonymous donors could screw up my whole career.’
‘Does that matter more than being out of a job?’
‘I expected more support from my wife.’
‘The baby and I will be expecting some support too.’
‘What bab... Oh Christ, I forgot, you were seeing the doctor today. You’re pregnant. Oh God... that’s... wonderful.’
‘Yeah,’ said Lucy, getting to her feet and leaving the room.
‘Oh, come on Lucy,’ Barrowman called out. ‘C’mon, you know I’m delighted... It’s just been such an awful day and not just because of the funding thing... this guy at Moorlock Hall... he’s really getting to me.’
The bedroom door slammed.
Five
‘You look thoughtful,’ said John Macmillan.
‘Sorry,’ smiled Steven, ‘a lot on my mind. Owen Barrowman phoned me late last night. An anonymous outfit has come up with funding for the Lindstrom group.’
‘Well, well,’ said Macmillan. ‘I heard a rumour to that effect at dinner last night. Apparently, the fact that her group is looking for genetic links to extreme criminal behaviour attracted someone’s attention, someone to whom money is no object.’
‘Barrowman’s work,’ said Steven. ‘He’s been collecting data from psychopaths in high security units all over the UK. He’s looking for genetic and biochemical differences that might point the way to possible treatments.’
‘A cure for psychopaths?’ exclaimed Macmillan.
‘The Lindstrom group are looking at a wide range of extreme human behaviour. It’s the old story, if you understand how something works you’re coming close to controlling it.’
Macmillan looked as if his mind had strayed off somewhere else. ‘You know, this is all getting quite... bizarre. I had a note delivered to me just before you arrived. It was unsigned.’
‘Was it the kind you have to swallow after you’ve read it?’ asked Steven with a grin, which attracted a withering look from Macmillan.
Thinking that Macmillan had been told the identity of the anonymous Lindstrom benefactors, he said, ‘I take it your billet-doux has given you the name of the funders?’
‘Nothing to do with that,’ said Macmillan. ‘My anonymous informant was telling me why government-sponsored funding had been turned down for Professor Lindstrom’s group.’
‘Payback time for standing on too many toes in the past?’
‘Nothing so banal,’ said Macmillan, looking Steven straight in the eye. ‘Our intelligence services warned them off.’