‘Nonsense,’ said Stepney.
‘It was sitting in the lane the last two Thursdays when I went round to Ellen’s.’ She looked at Steven. ‘Ellen’s my friend. She lives by the post office. I always go round on a Thursday for a cuppa and a chinwag. Her Bill goes out to his club, you see.’
‘Stupid woman,’ said Stepney. ‘You wouldn’t know a 4x4 if it ran over you.’
‘I just said it was a red car.’
‘That should narrow it down to twenty million,’ scoffed her husband.
‘Did you tell the police this, Mrs Stepney?’ asked Steven.
‘He said not to bother,’ said the woman, inclining her head towards Stepney.
‘Where exactly is the post office?’ asked Steven.
Both gave him directions at once but he managed to deduce where he should be heading. ‘Many thanks, you’ve been a great help.’ He got back into the car, leaving the Stepneys arguing in the garden.
Steven stopped the car just past the lane near the post office and reversed back into it. He saw that he now had a clear view of Elm Street without being too noticeable himself. Elm Street rang a bell. It was where… He checked the file beside him again. It was where the Nichols lived… Another check of the file for the date of Nichol’s death and a quick calculation in his head told him that Nichol had been killed on a Thursday.
Steven breathed an expletive as he put things together. The person or persons sitting in the red car when Mrs Stepney had come round to visit her friend on a Thursday evening could have been establishing Alan Nichol’s routine. They would have discovered what time he took the dog for a walk and what route he took and used that information to intercept him somewhere along the way. Alan Nichol might well have been murdered.
THIRTEEN
Not for the first time in his career with Sci-Med, Steven found himself reluctant to accept the evidence he was uncovering. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one that seemed to undermine everything he stood for. He had long ago stopped believing that the UK government couldn’t possibly get involved in anything underhand or downright illegal. Common sense demanded that they be as ruthless as any potential enemy when it came to matters affecting state security. But it was important to him to believe that he still worked for the ‘good guys’. The distinction however seemed to have been becoming more and more blurred.
Some kind of experiment carried out on unwitting school children with government approval and involving the murder of a scientist connected with the affair was pushing things to the very limit. Had Nichol got cold feet about what he was doing and decided to blow the whistle? Had he been ‘silenced’ because of it? Had Scott Haldane in Edinburgh been murdered because he’d suspected that something unethical or even illegal was going on? Steven drew the line at believing in state-sanctioned murder but on the other hand, Dr David Kelly’s suicide had never struck him as being entirely convincing. He would check first thing in the morning on the state of health of all the green sticker children. If any more had developed conditions like Keith Taylor or Trish Lyons, the time for discreet inquiries would be over. Like it or not, Macmillan would have to tackle the Department of Health head-on and demand an explanation. As to what that explanation could possibly be… Steven shivered as he considered that someone might see it as being more expedient to do away with Sci-Med than come up with one. He called Tally’s number.
‘Hello, how are you? Where are you?’
Steven was pleased that Tally sounded happy to hear from him. ‘I’m just outside Cambridge; I wanted to hear your voice.’
‘That’s nice,’ said Tally. ‘I’m glad you phoned. Any particular reason?’ She couldn’t hide the mischief in the question.
‘The foundations of my life are being swept away and I thought you might be able to help…’
‘How?’
‘Strong drink and a shoulder to cry on would be a good start.’
‘But you’re in Cambridge.’
‘I’ve got a Porsche.’
Tally laughed and said. ‘All right, come up but if you’re not here by ten, forget it and don’t bother ringing the bell. I’ve got a very busy day tomorrow.’
‘On my way.’
Steven pushed the entry-phone button outside Tally’s apartment block at a little after nine thirty and was rewarded by an invitation to enter. He sprinted up the stairs and found her standing at her front door, leaning on the jamb with an amused smile on her face. She gave a slight shake of the head and said, ‘For a man who’s had the foundations of his life swept away, you’re moving rather well…’
‘The Dunbars have always been resilient,’ smiled Steven, taking her in his arms and giving her a big hug. ‘Nice to see you.’
‘You too.’
Tally poured Steven a large gin and tonic and topped up her own wine glass. ‘Well,’ she said, sitting down beside him on the couch. ‘Tell Aunt Tally all about it…’
Steven smiled wryly and said, ‘I’m trying to make light of it but it’s deadly serious and I wasn’t joking about the way I’m feeling. I think I’m losing the place here…’
Tally could see that Steven was genuinely undergoing some kind of a crisis. ‘Go on,’ she said.
He told her what he had uncovered and deduced, admitting, ‘I can’t see any other way of looking at it.’
‘But this is outrageous,’ exclaimed Tally. ‘Experimenting on children? It beggars belief.’
‘It won’t be as cold-hearted as that when the truth comes out, I’m sure,’ said Steven. ‘It’ll be a case of someone meaning well but screwing up big time — it usually is where HMG is concerned — but two murders to keep it quiet? That’s taking things to a whole new level.’
‘You can’t be sure these people were murdered,’ said Tally.
‘No, but it’s looking odds on.’
‘Any idea what they gave the children?’
Steven shook his head. ‘Something they thought would do them good,’ he intoned.
‘Like a vaccine?’
‘Like a vaccine,’ agreed Steven. ‘Only it’s hard to see how a vaccine could cause what I’ve been seeing. Have you ever seen necrotising fasciitis?’
‘No, thank God, I never have.’
‘You don’t want to. Believe me.’
‘But if it was the “vaccine” that caused it, doesn’t this mean that all the children are at risk?’
‘That’s my real fear,’ said Steven. ‘I’m going to run a check in the morning on all the kids involved, just to see what the current situation is.’
‘And if there are any more who’ve fallen ill?’
‘Then it’s a national disaster in the making and one which might well bring down the government… if they let it.’
Tally looked at him. ‘You mean if they’ve murdered two people to keep this quiet, they may murder more?’
‘That’s what I’m having trouble getting my head round. I thought I worked for the white hats…’
‘I can see the problem,’ said Tally thoughtfully, her eyes breaking contact.
‘No one knows I’m here,’ said Steven. ‘No one in my world knows you exist. You’re quite safe.’
Tally gave a slightly embarrassed smile. ‘You read my mind,’ she said.
‘Can you read mine?’ asked Steven softly, taking both her hands in his.
‘Steven… I thought we agreed this isn’t a good idea…’
‘I think it’s a very good idea.’
‘I see. I just see you in times of national crisis?’
‘If we both want it, we can make it work…’
‘Steven…’
Steven brought her closer and a first hesitant kiss led to passion that rose inside both of them. ‘Oh bugger…’ murmured Tally as she wrapped her arms around Steven. ‘I’m going to regret this in the morning…’
‘Good morning,’ said Steven as he delivered coffee to a sleepy Tally who was still in bed.
‘Oh my God,’ she exclaimed in alarm. ‘What time is it?’
‘Just after six.’
Tally relaxed. ‘God, I thought for a moment you were going to say nine.’