Resurrection (35 page)

There was a gas water heater in the bathroom that provided instant hot water. Dewar prepared a shallow bath for the cat. He was idly watching the water level rise - painfully slowly because of the narrowness of the instant supply pipe, when he suddenly realised why the glass vials in the box seemed familiar. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead and his fingers tightened on the rim of the bath. These vials didn’t contain drugs at all and they hadn’t been supplied by a pharmaceutical company. He’d seen vials just like them before; he’d come across them at medical school. They were used for the long-term storage of freeze-dried cultures of viruses and bacteria! Liquid cultures of laboratory-grown micro-organisms were aliquotted into small volumes in thin-bore glass tubes and subjected to vacuum drying. When all the liquid had evaporated the dried culture would be sealed inside the glass tube by melting the end. In that form, viruses could stay viable for many years.

The letters on the paper strip inside were the key to what the vial contained. In this instance, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that VM must stand for
Variola major
, the most dangerous form of smallpox virus. No wonder Denise Banyon and Sharon Hannan had thought bad drugs to blame for their men’s condition. Kelly and Hannan had injected themselves with live smallpox virus!

Exposure to a large dose of virus now seemed like a gross understatement.

Thanks to the cat rescue operation, Dewar had just solved part of the puzzle. This of course, led to more questions. How many of these vials did Kelly have? Where had they come from? If these really were the ‘bad drugs’ then, according to Sharon Hannan, it had been Kelly who had stolen them from a man who had asked him to help in their recovery. She hadn’t known know any more than that. There was only one person who could perhaps tell him about the man and where the vials had been recovered from and that was Denise Banyon. She had to talk now. The nightmare had come true. There
was
a source of live smallpox outside the institute and right now, he didn’t know where the hell it was!

Dewar went through the process of cleaning up the cat which had fortunately decided that he was a friend - or at least, a provider of food, and should be tolerated as such. This was fortunate because his mind was on other things and dealing with a reluctant snarling moggie wouldn’t have helped either of them. This was particularly true of the last part of the clean-up when Dewar had to immerse the cat completely for a few seconds in warm water containing disinfectant.

He turned on the gas fire in the living room because there was no towelling in the flat to help dry the animal. The decontamination team had taken away all clothes and linen for destruction. The cat would have to see to its own rehabilitation while he thought about what to do next. It wasn’t enough to raise the alarm about the virus source, maybe not even desirable. There was nothing anyone else could do about it. It was going to be up to him. He needed a positive plan of action and it unfortunately had to centre on Denise Banyon. He took out his phone and called George Finlay.

‘
How is Denise Banyon today?’

‘
Still no problem,’ replied Finlay. ‘She must be one of these people with natural immunity.’

‘
George, I need a favour. An unethical favour.’

‘
What?’ replied Finlay uncertainly.

‘
I want you to give her a TAB shot.’

‘
An anti typhoid injection?’ exclaimed Finlay. ‘What on earth for?’

‘
I want her to feel ill. I want her to feel achy all over. I want her to think she’s going down with smallpox. She’s the key to this whole damned outbreak. I’ve got to make her talk.’

‘
Making someone believe they’ve got a deadly disease is just not on,’ protested Finlay.

‘
Remember you said something about it being all right not to know the details of how all this started as long as the source of the epidemic wasn’t still out there?’ interrupted Dewar. ‘Well, it is.’

‘
Good God.’

‘
Denise Banyon can help me get to it.’

There was a pause before Finlay finally said, ‘All right, I’ll do it.’

‘
As soon as you can please. I’ll give her a few hours and then come in. With a bit of luck she’ll be feeling ill.’

Dewar phoned Steve Malloy next.

‘
Nothing new to report, I’m afraid,’ said Malloy. ‘And I’ve just about exhausted every avenue.’

‘
I’ve found several cultures of the virus.’

‘
What?’ exclaimed Malloy. ‘Where?’

‘
In Tommy Hannan’s flat. Freeze dried cultures in glass vials. He and Kelly must have thought the vials contained heroin.’

‘
Jesus Christ,’ whispered Malloy, painting the picture for himself. ‘They injected themselves?’

‘
Looks that way. I’d like you to take a look at the vials,’ said Dewar. ‘Maybe you could confirm their origin?’

‘
Of course,’ replied Malloy. ‘When? Where?’

‘
If you could come over to the Scottish Office? I’m going back there right now. My first priority is going to be trying to get my hands on all the vials that Kelly had in his possession. I think I’ve got all the ones he gave to Hannan. I’ll have to talk to the team who decontaminated Kelly’s flat. They may have taken possession of them without realising what they were or maybe even the police have them, believing, like Kelly, that they contained drugs.’

‘
Jesus, but where did Kelly get the damned things from?’

‘
The story, as I know it, is that some man approached Kelly and asked him to help him recover a stash of drugs and at some point, maybe when his back was turned or whatever, Kelly stole some from him. I haven’t been able to find out anything about this man or where the stuff was hidden - or why he needed help in the first place, but I’m assuming that Pierre Le Grice must be involved somewhere along the line.’

‘
I suppose you’re right, but God knows how he came to make it without anyone suspecting,’ said Malloy. ‘And as you say, why would he need help in recovering the vials? Where had he hidden them that they that they needed “recovering”?’ he asked.

‘’
Can’t think,’ admitted Dewar, although he had just remembered that Sharon Hannan had happened to say that this had taken place before Kelly had lost his job. Maybe this was relevant.

‘
I’m going to have another go at getting Denise Banyon to talk,’ said Dewar. ‘She knows far more than she’s let on so far.’

‘
Anything you’d like me to do?’

‘
There is one thing you might be able to help me with.’

‘
Oh yes?’

‘
I need a home for a cat.’

‘
You’re serious?’

‘”
Fraid so.’

TWENTY ONE

Dewar drove back to the Scottish Office, very conscious of what was in the vials sitting in the box on the floor behind him. He’d gone to considerable trouble to individually wrap them using toilet roll from the pack he’d found in a cupboard to provide protection from any sort of impact. The whole box was then wrapped up in the plastic bag that had held the cat food. The last thing in the world he - or indeed the city needed, was for him to be involved in any kind of an accident. In the event, he reached the Scottish Office without incident.

He took the box with the vials up to his room and put them safely away in a drawer to await Malloy’s arrival. It seemed such a mundane thing to do with enough virus to wipe out the city and more but there was no call for drama, he reasoned. A convoy of police cars, sirens wailing and lights flashing could be summoned to take the vials to safe-keeping at the university but right now, that wasn’t necessary. The vials were perfectly safe as long as the glass didn’t break.

He called Mary Martin to say that he had to speak with the team who had dealt with the decontamination of Kelly’s flat. She promised to ask them to get in touch when they returned from their current assignment. ‘Is it urgent?’

‘
Very.’

Dewar sat down and embraced a few minutes silence while he got his thoughts in order. He still couldn’t make much sense of a putative link between Kelly and Pierre Le Grice. It was very much a case of the old question, why on earth would Le Grice involve someone like Kelly? But, as far as he could see, the alternative to that scenario was even more unattractive. It would involve the virus not having come from Le Grice at all. He’d have to consider that there might be another source of virus out there, a completely different one, one that he hadn’t even imagined.

The phone rang. It was Karen.

‘
I’m in Edinburgh,’ she said.

‘
Where about?’

‘
I’ve just come in from the airport. I’m going to take my stuff down to Mum’s and then I’ll come back up. Maybe we could meet? I’ve to report with the other volunteers to Dr Martin at the Public Health Service at six this evening.’

‘
I’m going to be tied up this afternoon. I’ve made some progress at last. I’m not sure where it’s going to lead me but you’ll be carrying your phone?’

‘
Yes.’

‘
I’ll get in touch the minute I’m free.’

‘
Take care, Adam.’

‘
Nobody’s hero, that’s me.’

‘
If only that were true,’ said Karen. ‘Please be careful.’

Dewar went down to the communications room to see how things were in the estate. He left instructions that he be called as soon as Malloy arrived.

‘
The police have been touring with loudspeaker vans telling the people that the vaccine will be here tomorrow and where they should go to get it.’ said the official currently in charge of the room.

‘
Please God they’re right,’ said Dewar.

‘
Superintendent Tulloch was adamant that good news was needed to head off any more trouble. It’s his responsibility.’

Dewar reflected that it wasn’t going to matter a damn whose responsibility it was if the vaccine didn’t come soon. ‘What about the no-go area?’ he asked. ‘Anything happening?’

‘
The yobs are still in control. There’s been no attempt to re-take it. The police are keeping a low profile. I think they’re hoping that the broadcasts about the vaccine will tip the balance in their favour and the ordinary people inside the area will stage their own revolt.’

‘
Has anything at all been getting in or out?’

‘
They’ve let in ambulances to remove sick people and they allowed a doctor and nurse in this morning to see a sick child.’

Dewar nodded.

‘
Dr Malloy is here,’ said a woman’s voice behind him.

Dewar returned upstairs and greeted Steven Malloy. ‘The vials are in my room,’ he said.

Malloy raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. He followed Dewar upstairs and stood by while Dewar carefully removed one of the vials from the drawer and then from its wrapping to hand it gingerly to him.

Holding it carefully in two hands, Malloy took it over to the window and examined it. After a few moments he sighed. Strangely, there was an element of relief in the sound. He looked at Dewar. ‘These didn’t come from the institute,’ he said. ‘They’re very old. Nobody’s used FD capsules like these for years.’

‘
Maybe Le Grice used old equipment to avoid detection? Something he found in a basement maybe?’ said Dewar.

Malloy shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not,’ he said. ‘What’s good news for the institute is bad news for you.’ He looked at the vial in his hand again. ‘This vial is really old … in fact, I’d even suggest that these numbers on the strip inside the vial … four and nine, forty-nine stand for 1949, well before the institute was even built and certainly before Pierre Le Grice was born.’

Dewar closed his eyes and said in a flat monotone, ‘That means there is another source of the virus out there and we’ve no idea where it is.’

‘
Bloody hell,’ said Malloy.

‘
Sweet Jesus Christ,’ muttered Dewar.

‘
We could be sailing up shit creek here. Government secrets and all that.’

‘
What d’you mean?’

‘
It was before my time of course, but you hear these stories about so-called defence initiatives at the time of the second world war when the government experimented with all sorts of disease-carrying bombs. I suppose I’m thinking of Gruinard Island off the west coast of Scotland, the one they infected with anthrax and consequently put the island out of commission for over half a century.’

Dewar nodded. ‘I think there was some kind of accident with plague too on Salisbury Plain if I remember rightly,’ he said.

‘
That sort of thing,’ said Malloy. ‘A lot of it went on in the forties and fifties.’

‘
So now we have to consider that somebody has stumbled across a stash of secret wartime biological weapons,’ said Dewar.

‘
Just an idea,’ said Malloy.

‘
But at exactly the same time the Iraqis come to Edinburgh, trying to persuade people to make smallpox for them? I don’t think I buy that.’

‘
I agree, it’s stretching coincidence a bit far,’ conceded Malloy.

‘
Even so, I’ll get Sci-Med to check out your idea but getting any information out of the ministry of defence can break your heart. They’ve turned stone-walling into an art form. But whatever they say, there’s still a linking factor in all of this,’ said Dewar. ‘One that involves the institute.’