had decayed to leave the base like a row of rotting teeth. 'It's still there,' he announced. 'He changed cars.'
They agreed to keep watch in shifts until Vanney returned. One of them would stay near to the entrance of the lane while the other two could stretch their legs, get coffee at a cafe nearby or whatever.
Vanney did not get back till one in the morning. Jamieson was on watch when a green Mini slowed and turned into the lane. He got a good view of Vanney at the wheel and noted down the number. The Lotus left shortly afterwards and ten minutes later Fenton and Kelly returned.
The three men agreed to meet again on Monday near the entrance to the lane and follow the green Mini when it left. In the meantime they decided to abandon routine surveillance on Vanney, a move that proved equally popular with Jenny and Mary Kelly. Fenton wondered later about Jamieson. Was he married? The subject had never come up. It was not the sort of thing you asked him, it was the sort of thing he asked you.
Spring came suddenly to Edinburgh. It flooded the city with a yellow sunshine that highlighted the rash of buds that had broken out on the trees in Princes Street Gardens. It made drops of rain water, which had persisted from the previous night's rain, sparkle like precious stones on railings as Fenton rode to the lab through the morning traffic.
Faces were held high as heads that had spent most of the winter bent forward against wind and rain were lifted to receive the kiss of spring sunshine. Feet slowed as the lure of office central heating lost its grip on the imagination and people stopped to speak to each other in the streets. They were smiling; the annual war was over and the survivors were glad to see each other.
The sunshine had even invaded Fenton's lab. It sought out the dust that coated reagent bottles and illuminated the intricacies of a large cob web. Now that he had seen it the dirt began to annoy him. He fetched a wet cloth and started to wipe each bottle individually. He was doing this when Charles Tyson came in. He said, 'I'd like to see you in my room in ten minutes if that's convenient?'
Fenton said that it was.
Fenton joined Tyson and Liz Scott brought in coffee. Tyson stirred his and said, 'I'm considering recommending to the Health Board that you be made official deputy head of department, Neil's position.'
'Thanks,' said Fenton.
'Don't thank me just yet. I said I was considering it.'
Fenton waited for Tyson to elaborate.
Tyson looked hard at Fenton and said, 'A senior position like this demands something more than just scientific ability. It requires a certain degree of diplomacy. It requires discretion, a willingness to operate within accepted guidelines. A willingness to drift with the prevailing current rather than a tendency to…rock the boat. Do I make myself clear?'
'Perfectly,' said Fenton controlling his temper. He was being warned off and offered an incentive. The question was what was he being warned off? Was it just his natural tendency to go to war with the hospital authorities that Tyson was concerned about or was it something more sinister? He couldn't tell anything from Tyson's expression.
'Well?' said Tyson.
'I don't think I'm your man,' said Fenton. 'I reserve the right to play the game as I see it.'
'I see,' said Tyson tapping the end of his pen on the blotting pad in front of him. 'Don't be too hasty. Sleep on it.'
Fenton got up to go.
'There is one more thing,' said Tyson.
'Yes?'
'I'm going to recommend to the board that Ian Ferguson be upgraded to senior biochemist. Do you have any views?'
'That's fine by me,' said Fenton.
'Good,' said Tyson. 'I hoped you'd say that. He put down his pen and rubbed his eyes. 'I'll be glad when everyone can concentrate solely on their work again.'
Was that another warning? Fenton wondered. He looked for signs of an accusation but Tyson's was concentrating on his papers again.
Fenton was checking the day book in the main lab when Liz Scott came in and told Ian Ferguson that Tyson wanted to see him. Ferguson made a face at Fenton and said, 'When the trumpet calls…'
Fenton smiled but did not say anything.
The good weather lasted over the week-end and Fenton and Jenny took the opportunity of taking their first real walk of the year. They went out to Colinton Village and climbed up into the Pentland Hills to the south of the city. As they reached the top of Bonaly Hill they stopped to catch their breath and look at the view. Jenny was standing slightly lower down than Fenton so, as she looked north over the houses to the Forth Estuary, he looked at her. Her hair was like spun gold in the sun and her fresh complexion seemed to embody the spirit of the season. He stooped to kiss her lightly on the back of the neck and she raised her hand to touch his cheek. She did not speak.
'I love you Jenny,' whispered Fenton.
Jenny still did not speak.
'All right, I don't love you.'
Jenny smiled and turned. She said, 'Tom, you will be careful tomorrow?'
Fenton reassured her and hugged her tightly from behind.
They walked through a pine forest on the way to Caerketton Hill and their feet were silent on a thick carpet of needles. Sunlight sneaked through the branches to create little pools of light on the floor of the woods.
On Monday morning Jamieson rang Fenton at the lab to finalise details about following Vanney. He and Kelly would tail the Mini in his car, an unmarked Ford. Fenton was to follow on the Honda. If Vanney should tumble to the Granada Jamieson would turn off leaving Fenton to pick up the tail.
Fenton was glad that Jenny had already left for the hospital when he got home because he felt nervous and needed to be alone. Where would Vanney go? Would they be any closer to discovering the truth about Neil's death at the end of the evening?
The butterflies in his stomach did not subside until the Honda had started and he had set out for Leith Street. Jamieson was already there when he arrived, although he was not late. He handed him a two way radio and gave him a crash course in how to use it while they waited for Kelly to arrive.
Kelly arrived and, with ten minutes to go if Vanney were to be his usual punctual self, Fenton got back on the Honda and moved some two hundred metres away from Jamieson's car. He parked it again and waited in a doorway watching the street.
Two minutes late, the Lotus swung into the street and nose dived into its garage. Fenton felt the adrenalin begin to flow as he changed to watching the far end of the lane. The lights of the green Mini appeared at the junction; it paused then turned left on to the main road. Fenton saw the Granada start to move. He walked out from his doorway, as if he had just emerged from the building, and got on the bike. He took off from the kerb and settled at a comfortable distance behind Jamieson, feeling pleased at how smoothly it had all gone.
The Mini was making for the coast. Fenton hoped that it might take the main road south where there would be plenty of traffic to provide cover but it was not to be. Vanney made a left turn at the edge of town and joined the old, winding coast road which meticulously followed the southern shore of the Firth of Forth. The Granada's headlights would be in Vanney's mirror all the time, thought Fenton. The odds were that it would not alarm Vanney unduly but that he might feel obliged to take routine precautions to prove to himself that he was not really being followed.
The test came as they entered the small coastal village of Port Seton. The Mini's left indicator began to flash and Vanney pulled in to the side and stopped beside some shops. The move obliged Jamieson to drive straight past. Fenton was able to stop well behind the Mini. The street lighting was good. Vanney would have been able to get a good look at the Granada as it passed, maybe even taken its number. There was no way that Jamieson could take up the tail again.
Fenton got out his radio and called up Jamieson. He told him what he thought and suggested that he should pick up the tail on Vanney from now on.
'All yours,' replied Jamieson.
It started to rain and the sound of the drops hitting his leathers sounded unnaturally loud to Fenton as he sat,
