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Authors: Ken McClure

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Medical, #Suspense, #Thrillers

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BOOK: Deception
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Steven saw that it was after 4pm. Time was getting on and he still had a lot to do before meeting Eve. He drove over to his hotel, got his things together and checked out, saying that he had been recalled to London at a moment’s notice. This was for the benefit of anyone who subsequently tried to trace his movements through the hotel register. He drove over to an area of the city near Bruntsfield Links, where he’d noticed that every second or third house seemed to be a small hotel, and checked in to a suitably anonymous-looking one. It had the added bonus of having its own car park round the back of the building. He didn’t want his car lying out on the street if he could help it.

When he logged on to the Sci-Med computer he found some information waiting for him on Childs and Leadbetter. Both had been trained as explosive experts during their time in the army. ‘And in the occasional use of small musical boxes,’ thought Steven. There were several other skills attributed to them: Childs spoke Arabic: Leadbetter was fluent in French and German and an authority in field communications, but it was the fact that
both
were explosive experts that captured Steven’s attention. It suggested that this had something to do with their being in Blackbridge although he had to admit, it was hard to see what - always assuming that blowing up Blackbridge as a solution to everyone’s problem was not an option, however appealing he found the notion himself. He thought he would take a leisurely bath before changing his clothes and setting off to pick up Eve.

Steven’s mobile phone rang while he was in the bath. Luckily he had propped it up on the edge. It was Jamie Brown.


Well, we’ve got some action on the rat problem,’ said Brown. ‘I’ll have to give McColl credit for that.’


So I saw,’ said Steven. ‘I was out there earlier. Nice to know someone can actually get something done out there when they put their minds to it.’


Know what you mean,’ agreed Brown. It reminds me of a joke. How many local government administrators does it take to change a light bulb? Answer, none. They’ll set up a sub committee to investigate coping with darkness. But do you want to hear the best bit?’


Amaze me,’ said Steven.


Nobody out there knows
who
started things moving.’


What d’you mean?’


No one’s taking the credit for it and that’s unusual in itself but no one seems to know who sent in the rat killers.’


But someone must,’ Steven protested.


You’d think so but it turns out not. Apparently everyone thought that someone else was responsible. When they finally got round to talking to each other, nobody claimed the credit.’


Has no one asked the men on the banks?’


Apparently they arrived in an unmarked truck and waved away anyone who approached them. When darkness fell they left in the same truck when it arrived to pick them up. The police had a word with them but they wouldn’t tell me anything when I asked them.’


Not even how many rats the men got?’


One of the locals said they only had one sack with them when they left and it was about half full. Not more than a dozen or so, he reckoned.


That shouldn’t upset the British Association for the Preservation of Rats too much,’ said Steven.


Is there one?’ asked Brown, naively.


Bound to be,’ replied Steven.

When Brown rang off, Steven rang Brewer at police headquarters. ‘So who’s dealing with the rats?’ he asked.


Would you believe the army?’


You’ve got to be kidding,’ said Steven, astonished at the reply.


I wish I was,’ said Brewer. He had an air of resignation in his voice. ‘All we need now is the Berlin Philharmonic putting in an appearance and we can stage, Blackbridge, the musical.’


You’re sure about the army’s involvement?’


Two of my lads challenged them when they were leaving this evening. They were shown Army ID.’


Well, I suppose they can at least shoot straight,’ said Steven. ‘It makes some kind of sense, I suppose. But who made the decision?’


Exactly,’ exclaimed Brewer. ‘None of the briefcases up at the hotel knows, or no one will own up to knowing, and so the squabbling goes on.’


Well, at least someone’s shooting the rats while they set up sub committees, request clarification, defer decisions and report upwards, downwards and sideways,’ said Steven.


I’m really surprised that there’s been no involvement at ministerial level yet,’ said Brewer. ‘You’d think one of the buggers would have had the courage to put in an appearance.’


This mess isn’t going to do anyone’s career any good,’ said Steven. ‘Politicians have an innate sense of that. They’ll leave it to the spear carriers as long as possible.’


Suppose you’re right,’ agreed Brewer.

Steven ended the call but then thought to himself that the decision to call in the army had presumably not been made by some postal clerk in the Scottish Office down in Leith or a window cleaner in Whitehall. Surely that decision must have been taken at ministerial level, so why hadn’t the relevant minister – whoever he or she was – appeared on the scene to take the credit for firm, swift action in the wake of the Clarion’s story? Such shyness seemed well out of character. Steven found that it was difficult to work out even
where
the decision would have been made. Rural Affairs was a Scottish matter. Health was a bit of both. Defence – and therefore the army - was definitely Whitehall’s province.

Steven drove out to Blackbridge and picked up Eve outside the hotel at eight as arranged. He thought she looked stunning in an emerald green dress that highlighted her beautiful red hair and said so.


Smooth southern bastard,’ said Eve with disarming frankness but she was far from being annoyed. ‘You’ve changed your car,’ she observed.


I’m that kind of a guy,’ said Steven. ‘Wild, impetuous, untamed.’


Anchored only to this earth by your civil service superannuation scheme,’ added Eve.


Ye gods, the night is only five minutes old and I’ve been shot down in flames already,’ Steven complained.


Where are we going?’


The Witchery.’


You must want me to talk to Trish real bad,’ said Eve. ‘When I go out with a bloke for a meal, it’s usually a Dutch treat at Pizza Hut.’


It’s not just that,’ said Steven.


Of course not,’ laughed Eve.


How are your folks?’ asked Steven, as they drove off.


They’ve gone to Aunt Jean’s down in North Berwick for a few days. It’ll do them good to get away from here for a bit.’

Steven agreed, thinking it would do anyone good to get away from Blackbridge for any length of time. ‘How did they take the Clarion story?’ he asked.

Eve snorted at the memory. ‘Bloody rag,’ she complained.


I’m sorry. I take it they were very upset?’


No,’ said Eve quietly, sounding strangely embarrassed. ‘Mum and Dad actually believed that the Clarion ran the story out of concern for them and their feelings.’


I see,’ said Steven. ‘And what did you tell them?’


I kept my mouth shut and let them go on thinking that.’


Good for you. Sometimes education can be a dangerous thing.’


Tell me about it,’ said Eve. ‘You know, it’s so ironic that the very thing good, decent people strive to give their children is often the very thing that drives them apart. I keep seeing it.’


Not in your case though.’ said Steven.


I’ve worked out what’s really worth having in life and you don’t find it in Harrods or the glossy pictures in the Sunday supplements.’

Steven had to seek Eve’s advice when he thought they were getting near the restaurant.


Turn left at the next junction, then left again,’ Eve directed.


What like’s parking there?’ he asked.


Go round into Castle Terrace,’ said Eve. ‘It should be okay at this time of night.’

They found a parking place without trouble and Steven got out to stare up at the floodlit castle, towering above them. ‘Impressive,’ he said. ‘What’s all the scaffolding for?’


It’s not really scaffolding,’ Eve corrected him. ‘It’s the seating for the military tattoo. The Edinburgh Festival starts soon. You won’t be parking here then!’

They walked the short distance to the restaurant, which was situated very near to the entrance to the castle esplanade and walked down the steps to the Secret Garden of the Witchery.

‘’
So what do you really think Trish has got herself mixed up in?’ asked Eve.


I honestly don’t know,’ Steven confessed. ‘She may not be directly involved in anything herself but she certainly knows something about what’s going on and I think she told the authorities about it after making some kind of deal with them.’


So if the authorities know about this, how come you don’t? You’re one of them, aren’t you? Right hand doesn’t know what the left is doing?’


More serious than that. There’s some kind of conspiracy going on, something I’m not party to.’


A conspiracy to do what?’ asked Eve.


In the beginning, I thought it was a straightforward industrial espionage thing; one biotech company setting out to discredit another through rumour and innuendo about their experimental crop, hoping perhaps to get their license revoked, but I was wrong. It’s something much bigger although it’s still tied up in some way with the crop in the fields at Peat Ridge.’


A conspiracy involving the government and all over a couple of fields of oilseed rape?’ said Eve doubtfully.


Genetically modified
oilseed rape,’ Steven reminded her.


Oh yes,’ said Eve thoughtfully. ‘We mustn’t forget the big bad ‘G’ word. The minute you mention that, people start running for the hills. Frankly, from what I’ve seen of ‘government’ in Blackbridge, these people would be hard pushed in conspiring to cross the road safely.’


It’s got nothing to do with the people at the hotel,’ said Steven. ‘They’re small bit-players. This is something way out of their league.’

Eve looked puzzled. ‘You know, I still can’t see it,’ she said. ‘You’re going to have to do better than that if you want me to betray my friend.’

Steven topped up her glass while he pondered a decision about how to proceed, then he made it and said quietly, ‘The rats’ behaviour has been changing around Blackbridge.’

Eve looked at him questioningly then her eyes widened a little as shock arrived with the realisation of what he was implying. ‘The rats in the canal!’ she exclaimed, then looked about her to see if anyone had overheard. She lowered her voice. ‘And you think it has something to do with the genetic changes made to the crop?’


Don’t get me wrong; I don’t see how that can possibly be but the continued attempts to have it discredited and destroyed suggests that someone knows more about it than I do.’


God, this is awful!’ exclaimed Eve in a hoarse whisper. ‘It never occurred to me to think . . . I mean . . . apart from anything else this could mean that my brother died because of it! That rat might not have bitten him otherwise.’


Steven nodded and agreed, ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘but that’s possible.’ He now had Eve’s full attention. ‘McNish didn’t drown,’ he continued. ‘The rats got him first. They severed his carotid artery. The story about him drowning was a fabrication.’

Eve grimaced and said, ‘Oh my God, I don’t think I know what to say. What is it that you want me to do exactly?’ she asked.


I need to know what Trish Rafferty knows about the vendetta against Peat Ridge Farm. I think it might be tied up in some way with the reason she left her husband, so try picking away at that. You might also ask her about the two men staying at Crawhill Farm, Rafferty’s so-called business advisors. They’re not. They’re part of the plot too.’


I’ll call her in the morning,’ said Eve. ‘I’ll suggest we meet up for a bit of a girls’ night out. How much can I tell her?’


Nothing. You must play the innocent; you’re just a friend concerned for her welfare. If she suspects for a moment that you’ve been put up to it, she’ll clam up and say nothing, I’m sure of it. Don’t say anything to anyone else either,’ said Steven. ‘If the local yobs get wind of any connection between the Peat Ridge experiment and the rats’ behaviour they’ll use it as an excuse to make big trouble and someone could get badly hurt.’


I’ll do my best,’ said Eve.

Steven thanked her. He picked up the sweet menu. ‘What takes your fancy?’ he asked.


I think I’ve just lost my appetite,’ said Eve.

They both settled for just coffee. Eve was now very subdued although she did her best to respond to Steven’s attempts at lightening the conversation and smiled in all the right places. He, for his part, knew that she was brooding about her brother. It was inevitable but he could think of nothing reassuring to say in the circumstances.

BOOK: Deception
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ads

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