‘Then I accept,’ said Shona.
‘Welcome back Doctor,’ said George Stoddart, when had informed Stoddart about the real fate of ‘poor Lawrence’. He was relieved to find, as the conversation progressed, that Stoddart was under the impression that Gill’s death had been an accident. This was good. Stoddart could contribute nothing useful to the investigation. The less he knew the better.
‘Such a promising career,’ crooned Stoddart, ‘and all sacrificed on the altar of Venus.’
Bannerman looked at Stoddart sideways, wondering if he’d heard right. ‘Professor,’ he said, ‘Lawrence Gill’s running off had nothing to do with “Venus”. He did not run off to be with another woman as you all thought.’
Then why?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Most peculiar,’ mumbled Stoddart.
‘I don’t see Doctor Napier,’ said Bannerman looking about him.
‘No,’ said Stoddart. ‘She took the news of Lawrence’s death very hard I’m afraid. I suggested she have a couple of days off.’
Damn, thought Bannerman. He had hoped to hear news of the animal experiments from Morag Napier. Now he would have to glean what he could for himself.
Bannerman was surprised to find the door to the animal lab unlocked. He opened it and knocked gently on the glass portion of the half open door; there was no reply, so he went inside. He followed the sound of music coming from one of the back rooms until he found signs of life. The animal technician on duty was not the same girl that he had seen on his last visit with Morag Napier. This was an older woman and she was carrying out a post-mortem examination on a rabbit. The animal was spread-eagled on a wooden board, its limbs secured to nails at the four corners by strong elastic bands. The first incision had been made, opening the animal from neck to crotch and the technician was presently taking samples of lung tissue. Music was coming from a small portable radio propped up on a corner of the table.
Bannerman coughed quietly to attract attention.
The woman dropped the scalpel she had been holding and caught her breath. The instrument bounced off the edge of the table and clattered to the floor. ‘God, you gave me a fright,’ she exclaimed. ‘Who are you?’
‘My name’s Bannerman. We haven’t met.’
‘Bannerman?’ repeated the woman, the tone of her voice indicating that the name meant nothing to her. Her whole demeanour suggested fear and uncertainty.
Bannerman smiled in an effort to put her at ease. ‘From the MRC,’ he said. ‘I’m working on Dr Gill’s project. I’m sorry I startled you.’
The woman relaxed. ‘My fault,’ she said. The door should have been locked but I forgot again. The Prof will have my hide if he finds out; you won’t tell him will you?’
Bannerman shook his head. ‘No. Why the preoccupation with locked doors?’
The animal rights people,’ replied the woman. They’ve been active around Edinburgh recently.’
Bannerman watched as the woman used Lysol to swab the areas of the table and floor that the dropped scalpel had come into contact with. She discarded the used swabs in a sterilizer bin.
‘Something nasty?’ asked Bannerman, noticing the meticulous care she was taking.
TB,’ replied the woman. ‘It’s making a come-back in AIDS patients.’
‘Why the rabbit?’
There was some question about this particular patient’s strain being bovine or human in origin so we did a guinea pig and rabbit inoculation. If it’s bovine it’ll infect both, if it’s human it’ll only go for the guinea pig, but I suppose you knew that?’
‘If I ever did, I’ve long since forgotten,’ smiled Bannerman. ‘I haven’t come across a case of TB in years.’
‘Lots of things are making a come-back in AIDS patients,’ said the woman. ‘People with no immune system are just what a whole lot of bugs have been waiting for.’
‘Not a happy thought Miss…?’ said Bannerman.
‘Cullen, Lorna Cullen. Have a look at the lungs on this animal. They’re riddled.’
Bannerman took a closer look and saw the rash of buff coloured nodules over the rabbit’s lungs. ‘I see what you mean.’
‘How can I help you, Doctor?’
‘Lawrence Gill inoculated some mice before he disappeared. I just wondered how they were getting on. They were up here if I remember rightly,’ said Bannerman, moving to where the relevant mice boxes were on his last visit. He brought down the first one and looked inside. In contrast to the last time when he had seen nothing but healthy animals the two mice inside had lost condition and had little sense of balance or coordination. It was the same story in the other two boxes.
‘How are they?’ asked Lorna Cullen, continuing with her post-mortem. The words were muffled by her protective mask.
‘Sick.’
‘What do you want done with them?’
‘Nothing. I’m going to check with the Neuro-biology Unit first to make sure they are prepared to receive samples, then either myself or Morag Napier will kill the animals and remove their brains.’
‘Something nasty?’ asked Lorna Cullen, using Bannerman’s own expression.
‘Very,’ replied Bannerman.
Bannerman phoned Morag Napier from upstairs. She sounded very subdued when she answered, saying, ‘I didn’t realize you were back.’
‘Last night,’ said Bannerman. ‘I’m sorry about Gill.’
‘He was a nice man,’ said Morag.
‘I’ve just been down to the animal lab,’ said Bannerman. The mice that Gill inoculated are looking very sick. I think they should be killed soon and brain samples sent to Hector Munro’s lab.’
‘Did you find out anything about the deaths while you were up north?’ asked Morag.
‘Very little, but I think the mice results will tell us for sure. I’m going to kill them tomorrow.’
‘Would you like me to do it?’ asked Morag.
‘Are you coming back soon?’ asked Bannerman.
‘I’ll be in tomorrow,’ said Morag.
‘Why don’t we both do it. We’ll be able to get the samples to Munro’s lab, by lunch-time and I thought we could make a few microscope preps for ourselves? If we see evidence of degenerative disease we’ll
‘Very good,’ said Morag. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Bannerman called Milne at the Medical Research Council to say that he was back in Edinburgh and to give a progress report.
After initial pleasantries Milne asked Bannerman how the investigation was going.
‘Before he died Lawrence Gill inoculated some experimental mice with brain material taken from the three men who died. I’m going to kill them tomorrow, if they’re not already dead, and give the brains to Hector Munro for full
‘Is there anything we can do at our end?’
‘You can arrange for radioactivity monitoring along the foreshore of Inverladdie Farm. I tried to do it myself but I ran into some opposition.’
‘Opposition?’
‘I was seen as a threat to jobs in the area.’
‘No violence I hope?’
‘A little,’ said Bannerman. ‘My car was vandalized and somebody took pot shots at me on the beach.’
‘Good God, Bannerman. You’ve had an exciting time.’
‘I managed to monitor the boundary ground between Inverladdie and the nuclear station and it was clear, but
