Denise looked at him suspiciously. ‘Have you “reconsidered” my case?’ she asked.
‘I’ve reconsidered,’ said Dewar. ‘I’ll give you an injection.’
‘They’re in the flat.’
‘Where in the flat?’
Denise paused as if giving away this secret was still something that was difficult to do despite the circumstances. ‘Under the sink.’
‘In the cupboard under the sink?’
‘Not just in the cupboard. There’s a board at the back that hides the pipes. Mike fixed it so it lifts out. There’s a space behind it. You’ll find what you’re looking for there.’
‘They’re still there?’
‘Unless any of you bastards have had them away.’
‘Thanks Denise.’
‘Don’t thank me, you shit. Just give me the vaccine.’
‘Roll up your sleeve.’
Denise did as she was told. Dewar brought out his little bottle of sterile saline and charged a syringe. He swabbed the skin on her upper arm and injected a little sterile saline, something that would do her neither good nor harm. ‘There you go,’ he said. ‘All done.’
‘Good. Now fuck off and leave me alone.’
‘Another satisfied customer,’ murmured Dewar as he left the room. He called George Finlay on an internal phone in the hallway. He didn’t want to get out of protective gear just yet.
‘He was called away,’ said the nurse who answered. ‘Some problem up in the wards. He said to ask you when you came out if we were to treat Denise any differently?’
‘Yes,’ Dewar replied. ‘Be very positive. Tell her she’s looking better each time you go in. Tell her you think she’s got away with it. She’s not going down with the disease after all.’
Understood. Are you coming out now?’
‘I’d like to see Sharon Hannan first.’
‘She’s in number 7.’
Sharon Hannan was obviously in a bad way but she recognised Dewar when he entered. The rash on her face was now well developed and she was shivering despite suffering an obvious fever showing in the sweat on her skin. ‘Did you go?’ she croaked.
‘I did. Puss is fine. She sends her love.’
Despite the fact that Denise’s eyes were almost hidden in small slits due to the swelling of the tissue around them, Dewar saw relief appear in them.
‘Thanks. Thanks a lot,’ she said.
‘She’s quite a cat.’
‘She’s all I’ve got.’
TWENTY-TWO
Dewar called Karen’s mobile number on the way back. ‘Where are you just now?’ he asked.
‘I’ve just come back up to town.’
Dewar glanced at his watch. It was coming up to five o’clock. ‘What d’you say we meet for coffee? Then I’ll run you over to Public Health in time for your meeting.’
‘What about the cafe in the Royal Mile?’
‘Fifteen minutes.’
They met up in a small coffee shop in the Royal Mile which they’d frequented on previous visits to Edinburgh, usually on Sunday mornings after walking in the old town and before returning to London after spending the week- end with Karen’s mother.
There was only one other couple sitting there when Dewar arrived five minutes late. Karen was sitting in the opposite corner nursing a cappuccino. She got up and he hugged her. ‘Good to see you but I still wish you hadn’t come. More coffee?’
‘No, I’m fine and no lectures please.’
Dewar smiled. There was no point in arguing.
‘The city seems remarkably calm,’ said Karen, when Dewar returned from ordering black coffee at the counter.
‘The Scots aren’t big on panic,’ said Dewar with a smile.
‘I know we’re not but I did expect people to be a little less laid-back over something like smallpox.’
‘So far, we’ve been lucky,’ said Dewar.’ The problem’s remained confined to the Muirhouse estate.
‘You mean things might be different if it broke out in Morningside or Comely Bank?’
‘Call me cynical.’
Karen smiled. ‘You look tired,’ she said.
‘I’m okay.’
‘You said you’d made progress?’
Dewar nodded. ‘I more or less stumbled over the reason for the outbreak. I found the virus cultures that started the whole thing off.’ He told Karen the story of the cat rescue. ‘Trouble is, I only found the vials Kelly gave to Hannan. The others are still hidden in Kelly’s flat. ’
‘So you were right about a laboratory source. Well done. What’s the institute saying about the egg on its face?’
‘The virus didn’t come from the institute,’ said Dewar.
‘You’re kidding!’ exclaimed Karen.
‘I know, it’s almost unbelievable but it didn’t.’
‘So where … ‘
‘The vials contain freeze-dried virus from forty or fifty years ago.’
‘Freeze dried?’
‘One of the best ways of storing viruses long-term.’
‘I know. I went to medical school too,’ said Karen. ‘I was just trying to think who would want to do that.’
‘Steven Malloy suggested the Ministry of Defence. I’ve asked Sci-Med to check out any interest the MOD might have had in smallpox in these parts in the past.’
‘As if they’d admit it,’ said Karen.
‘Macmillan carries a lot of weight in Whitehall. If anyone can get it out of them, he can.’
‘But at the moment, you’ve no idea where these vials came from?’
‘In a local sense, yes. Kelly was working as a digger driver on a new housing development when some man approached him and asked him to do a bit of private digging on the side. According to Kelly’s girlfriend, he unearthed a store of these vials for this character. Kelly, being Kelly, assumed they contained drugs. He went back later and helped himself. You can fill in the rest.’
‘My God. He injected? …’
‘Both he and his pal, Tommy Hannan.’
‘God, what a nightmare! So where was this place? And the man? Who was he?’
‘I’m trying to find that out.’
Karen looked at the clock on the wall. ‘I’m sorry. It’s time I was making a move.’
Dewar paid the bill and drove Karen over to Public Health headquarters. The pavement outside was crowded with volunteers — about thirty in all, who’d come in from all over the country and were converging for their introductory briefing from Mary Martin. Karen saw some people she knew and, kissing Dewar on the cheek, she went off to join them. Dewar was about to drive off when he saw Mary Martin in the rear view mirror pull up behind him in her Volkswagen Passat. He got out to exchange a few words.
‘Did Malcolm get in touch?’ she asked, locking her car door — a task made difficult by the fact she was
