Dewar told him.
‘Bloody hell, that’s all we need,’ exclaimed Wright. ‘The loonies in charge of the asylum.’
‘Maybe you can show me on the map exactly where Aberdour Court is?’
Wright turned back to the map and traced a curving pattern in the air with his pen. He homed in on one spot and then looked at Dewar over his glasses. ‘Right in the middle of the no-go area. You must be mad. Surely the police, if they knew what was at stake would …’
‘I’ve already been down that road,’ interrupted Dewar. ‘I’ve been talking to Grant at police headquarters. The likely backlash from a mob-handed police raid might make things infinitely worse in the long run than they are at the moment. The vaccination programme would be hopelessly disrupted and the epidemic would almost certainly spill over into the rest of the city.
Wright shook his head but he saw the sense in what Dewar was saying. ‘Need company?’ he asked.
Dewar smiled. ‘That was a kind thought, and a brave one,’ he said but Grant and I have worked out a plan we think will work providing the streets aren’t blocked off.’ He told Wright about using an ambulance.
Wright looked dubious. ‘As I understand it, the yobs have been letting ambulances through in the daytime. No one’s tried it at night yet.’
The same thought had occurred to Dewar. He shrugged and said, ‘If we don’t try it we’ll never know.’
A meeting of the crisis management team was scheduled for seven but it was nearer half past before enough people had arrived. Tulloch sent his apologies but the night had already started as far as he was concerned. He was needed elsewhere. Mary Martin was late through welcoming the new volunteers and assigning them tasks for tomorrow.
‘Do you have enough people?’ asked Wright.
‘I think so. The response has been good. I’m going to continue using my own people for new patients and contacts because they have local knowledge. The new people will be used mainly to man the vaccination centres. They are all qualified so little or no training will be required. They can get straight into it.’
George Finlay was the last to arrive. He didn’t bother with apologies. He simply smiled and said, ‘I’ve just heard. The vaccine is on its way.’
The relief round the table was palpable. People just hadn’t realised how tense they had become over the delay with the vaccine. It was like having a dull, nagging headache suddenly disappear.
‘The first shipment is due in at the airport at around eleven tonight. If the vaccination centres are functional we’ll take it directly to them. What d’you think?’ asked Finlay.
‘Fine by me,’ said Mary. ‘They’re all set up and ready to go. Just as long as Superintendent Tulloch manages to keep the trouble confined to the no-go area. I don’t want my people being stoned or fire-bombed.’
‘I’d better put the superintendent’s mind at rest about the vaccine and tell him his gamble paid off,’ said Finlay. ‘Maybe he can continue with the street broadcasts throughout this evening. Might help to keep things calm.’
‘Good idea,’ said Dewar without declaring an interest.
‘When shall we open the centres for business?’ asked Finlay.
‘The sooner the better, I would have thought,’ said Rankin.
‘First thing tomorrow,’ countered Wright. ‘If we open the centres through the night we’ll just be ensuring a large number of people on the streets during the hours of darkness. I don’t think Superintendent Tulloch would welcome that.’
There was no real dissent after Wright had pointed this out.
‘Very well, seven thirty tomorrow morning,’ said Finlay. ‘I’ll relay the information to Superintendent Tulloch. Mary, you’ll probably want to deploy your people to the centres to get ready for the arrival of the vaccine?’
‘Gladly,’ said Mary Martin, smiling for the first time in many days. ‘I’ll just have go find some of the people I’ve just said good-night to! Tell them they won’t be going to bed after all. Luckily they’re all being put up at the same hotel.’
Finlay reported that there had been no surprises that day in terms of numbers of new cases adding most importantly, that the disease was still confined to the estate. ‘We’re coping,’ was the bottom line.
‘Maybe someone’s smiling on us at last,’ said Wright.
Dewar called Sci-Med in London to ask why there had been no answer as yet to his enquiry over the location of Michael Kelly’s last job.
The duty officer answered. ‘Mr Macmillan thought you’d be calling,’ he said, sounding slightly embarrassed. ‘Apparently the building company are having a little trouble with their records …’
‘You mean Kelly’s employment didn’t go through their books,’ said Dewar with world-weary cynicism. ‘He was taken on as casual labour, a day at a time, cash in hand and they’ve no idea where.’
‘Something like that. They say they’re going to make their own enquiries. Ask their squad leaders if they remember him. That sort of thing.’
‘Jesus,’ murmured Dewar. ‘I hope somebody told them they’re about to have the Inland Revenue Service going through their financial trousers like a ferret with attitude if they don’t get their finger out?’
‘I believe Mr Macmillan did mention something along those lines,’ said the duty officer.
‘Get back to me as soon as you hear.’
Dewar went downstairs to the operations room. Hector Wright was there. ‘Everything’s okay at the moment,’ he said.
Dewar looked at his watch. It was eight thirty. He called Grant. ‘Seems quiet enough. What d’you think?’
‘If this was a western I’d say it was too quiet, I don’t like it,’ replied Grant. The bastards could be up to something.’
‘Maybe it’s just the good news about the vaccine taking the edge off things,’ said Dewar.
‘You wish. Let’s give it another half hour then we’ll chance it if it’s still quiet. I’ve got the ambulance outside.’
Dewar stayed down in the operations room, familiarising himself with the surroundings of Aberdour Court on Wright’s map while he listened in for any change in the situation. At eight fifty reports of a stone throwing confrontation started to come in from police patrolling the northern edge of the no-go area.
‘Just kids,’ was the phrase Dewar latched on to. The estimated age of the stone throwers was fourteen. There was no response from the police. Grant called just after nine. ‘I’m game if you are?’
Dewar drove over to Police Headquarters and changed into the green overalls of an ambulance crew man. Grant had already changed. He was carrying a clip board and looked the part. The vehicle was parked in shadow round the back.
‘Harry Field, my mate at ambulance HQ says if we break it, we pay for it,’ said Grant. ‘Who’s going to drive?’
‘You’d better. You know the streets. I’ll do the talking.’
They climbed into the ambulance and put on their forage caps. Grant familiarised himself with the controls before starting the engine. Before taking away, he turned to Dewar and said, ‘I hope you feel better about this than I do.’
‘The words scared and shitless spring to mind,’ replied Dewar.
‘Let’s do it.’
‘
‘Why not.’
With lights flashing and siren wailing, they accelerated down Crew Road until they could see the barrier at the Crew Toll roundabout. ‘Are they going to stop us?’ Grant wondered out loud.
‘No reason to,’ said Dewar. ‘Might be different coming out.’
They were within two hundred metres of the striped bar across the road when it rose and they were waved on through. Dewar lifted his arm casually in thanks as they sped past into the estate. ‘So far so good,’ he said. As he himself had said there was no reason for the soldiers to stop them but it was still nice to have it confirmed that they weren’t carrying a huge sign on the front saying, ‘This ambulance is not for real.’
They turned off the siren and slowed down as they navigated the narrower streets of the estate, passing occasional police cars touring the area with their loud-speaker messages about the vaccine’s imminent arrival.
