Steven let out a low whistle followed by a quiet, ‘Oh dear.’
‘And for the life of me I can’t work out why,’ Macmillan continued. ‘You’d think any research into the working of the human mind and how to control it would be right up their street’
‘Shades of, The Manchurian Candidate,’ smiled Steven.
‘I was thinking more of The Quiller Memorandum,’ said Macmillan. ‘Better music.’
‘Maybe it’s just a case of mental illness always being the poor relation when it comes to handing out cash,’ said Steven.
‘That wouldn’t explain MI5’s involvement,’ said Macmillan.
‘True.’
‘Anyway, your friend Barrowman must be very relieved that money has come in from somewhere.’
‘Actually, he’s not,’ said Steven. ‘He’d obviously been drinking when he called last night, but he was angry; he’d much rather the money had come from one of the more usual sources. He’s been told the holders of the purse strings will have the final say about what gets made public and what doesn’t and he doesn’t like the sound of that, thinks it could screw up his career.’
‘Some people are never happy,’ said Macmillan with a world-weary shrug and a wave of his hand.
‘He has a point,’ said Steven. ‘Young scientists have to get their work published to get a foot on the career ladder. To work hard, make a breakthrough and then be told to keep quiet about it could lead to being seriously pissed off.’
‘Nothing’s ever straightforward these days.’
Steven gave a wry smile. He said, ‘You know, I came in this morning to suggest we keep an eye on the situation and then you drop the bombshell about Five’s involvement. That sort of changes everything.’
‘What was your concern before that?’
‘Supposing... just supposing Owen Barrowman did come up with a way of treating psychoses and the funding body wanted to hush it up... for whatever reason.’
‘How could they stop publication?’
‘You can bet your house that top lawyers will have been involved in drawing up the conditions attached to the grant.’
‘See what you mean,’ Macmillan conceded with a sigh. ‘So, what does your friend do about that?’
‘Barrowman’s a bright guy. He’ll have seen that scenario on the horizon.’
‘Ah,’ said Macmillan appreciating what Steven was getting at. ‘And be tempted to be economical with reports of his success?’
‘Exactly. I gather he works alone so he’s in a position to decide who gets told about his results... and who doesn’t...’
‘’You’re right,’ agreed Macmillan. ‘So, he hides what he finds out under the bed. What does he do next?’
Steven thought for a moment before saying, ‘He has a first-class degree and a PhD, but he’s probably never been involved in doing anything devious in his life. He’ll be out of his league.’
‘Unlike you,’ said Macmillan.
‘Not sure that was a compliment.’
‘Just a fact.’
‘He’ll come up with what he thinks is a cunning plan. He’ll resign and take his findings with him. He’ll apply for a new job somewhere else, pretend to begin his research all over again. After a while he’ll announce his discovery, accept the congratulations of his colleagues and submit his paper to Nature.’
‘Something tells me that isn’t going to work,’ said Macmillan.
‘We don’t know who the funding body is, but, for the moment, let’s call them the opposition.’
Macmillan nodded.
‘The one thing we can safely assume is that they’ll be pretty bright too.’
‘And maybe even streetwise and devious,’ added Macmillan with a smile.
‘That we don’t know, but even if they are perfectly respectable and completely above board, they’ll figure out what Barrowman’s up to and go after him with charges of theft of intellectual property. They’ll inform the scientific journals of pending proceedings and they’ll immediately put a hold on publication.’
‘You said theft?’
‘It won’t be hard to prove that the data really came from Barrowman’s work while he was in the Lindstrom group at Capital and, as such, it’ll belong to the funding body not the scientist under the terms of their agreement. Under these circumstances no one would dare publish it. The opposition might even suggest he made the whole lot up if they were so inclined. One way or another Barrowman’s career would be over.’
‘Maybe someone... a friend should warn him if he’s considering going down that route?’
The look on Macmillan’s face suggested that someone should be Steven. ‘He trusts you.’
‘Not sure if a late-night phone call under the influence amounts to that, but I could give it a try... if only because there’s another possible scenario.’
‘Go on.’
What I outlined is what might happen if the funding body is a respectable outfit with entirely innocent reasons for maintaining anonymity.
‘Anonymous philanthropy? Not that common.’
‘So, let us consider they might not be all that innocent,’ said Steven. ‘We simply don’t know. But again, for the sake of argument, let’s suppose they are a ruthless bunch of venture capitalists backing the research for some reason we haven’t worked out. Young Barrowman might find himself being persuaded to hand over his data by virtue of having his kneecaps removed.’
Macmillan recoiled at the thought. He got up and walked over to the cupboard where he kept his much-loved Amontillado sherry. He poured two glasses and, in accepting one, Steven recognised this as the ritual, performed by Macmillan when he was about to commit Sci-Med formally to an investigation.
Macmillan took a sip and relaxed back into his chair. He took a moment to get his thoughts in order before looking up at the ceiling and saying, ‘We have a backer for medical research who doesn’t want to be identified, a scientist who might not want to share his results with anyone and an intelligence community who doesn’t want the research to be carried out in the first place.’
‘About sums it up.’
‘What the hell’s going on?’
‘I don’t know, but I take it you think this is a problem for Sci-Med?’
‘We can’t ignore it,’ said Macmillan. ‘Apart from anything else we can’t sit back and let MI5 interfere with legitimate medical research.’
Steven murmured his agreement.
‘And we can’t stand by idly while a young scientist possibly conceals knowledge which could have huge benefits for mankind.’
‘More difficult,’ said Steven. ‘We don’t know what Dorothy Lindstrom has signed up to and what the nature of the funding body is.’
‘You mean they might want to keep it under wraps?’ asked Macmillan, sounding surprised. ‘But why would they fund it if they wanted to bury the results?’
‘Maybe they’d just want exclusive use of them,’ Steven suggested. ‘And, as you have pointed out on more than one occasion, John, discoveries that can be used for good...’
‘Can also be used for evil,’ Macmillan intoned with a weary sigh.
Macmillan’s phone rang and Steven made to leave but Macmillan signalled him back as he reached the door.
‘Well, well,’ said Macmillan replacing the phone. ‘That didn’t take long. After what you told me about Moorlock Hall I asked my sources to keep me informed if any mention of it should crop up in the corridors of Whitehall. There’s to be an inspection of the place by an ad hoc parliamentary committee.’
Steven shook his head and said, ‘They couldn’t leave well alone.’
‘It never rains...’
‘Do you know when?’