Crisis

there is a chance that contamination came in from the sea further along the shore. If so, that might have caused the sheep virus to mutate.’

There has been no further incidence of brain disease in the area I take it?’

‘None,’ agreed Bannerman.

‘So there’s a chance that this may have been a single isolated incident which may never happen again,’ said Milne.

‘It’s possible,’ agreed Bannerman, thinking that it was also possible that the new virus had already been spread to every corner of the country and was waiting to infect new flocks before slipping through the food chain to the Sunday lunch tables of the land. He had a mental picture of a crow on the wing, its beak dripping with blood from the sheep carcass it had just gorged itself on.

‘I’ll ask Allison to brief the Health and Safety Executive. They’ll carry out a full inspection,’ said Milne.

‘What about Gill’s death?’ asked Bannerman.

‘Not much to report I’m afraid. I understand from Allison that the only lead they have is a description of the man who called at the post office in Cairnish pretending he was Gill, and it wasn’t particularly helpful.’

‘Not a one-legged Chinaman with a scar?’ said Bannerman.

‘Afraid not. Quite tall, medium build, fairish, good-looking, and the post mistress thought he had some kind of an accent but she couldn’t place it.’

‘As you say, not much to go on,’ agreed Bannerman.

‘What are your plans after tomorrow?’ asked Milne.

‘Once I’ve got the brain samples off to Munro and done the microscopy I’ll return to London and get back to work at the hospital while we wait for the results.’

‘We’re very grateful to you Doctor,’ said Milne.

‘What is Mr Allison saying to all this?’ asked Bannerman.

‘I think the official line is to treat this whole affair as an isolated incident.’

‘It’s a bit early to conclude that,’ said Bannerman. ‘And if it should turn out that the men died of Scrapie, we will have to face up to the fact that the disease can pass to man.’

‘Mr Allison and his colleagues are taking the view that if a mutated Scrapie virus is to blame then it is no longer a Scrapie virus.’

That is outrageous!’ said Bannerman.

‘I think we must be positive Doctor, not alarmist. You said yourself that Scrapie has been around for a long time. If it had caused trouble before we would have been aware of it.’

‘Not necessarily,’ argued Bannerman. The reason you were carrying out the brain disease survey in the first place was because we have no real idea of its incidence in the population. A few deaths here and there don’t get noticed. It’s only when you know what you are looking for that things become clear.’

‘I don’t think we can realistically destroy our farming industry on the basis of a few unclassified deaths here and there which may or may not have been due to infected animals. Do you?’ asked Milne.

‘I don’t think we should cover it up either,’ said Bannerman.

Milne said, ‘Mr Allison has assured me that generous government funds will be made immediately available to investigate brain disease in the population.’

‘Right after you tell them what they want to hear,’ mumbled Bannerman under his breath.

‘Pardon? I didn’t quite catch that,’ said Milne.

‘It wasn’t important,’ said Bannerman with resignation.

‘Perhaps you would like to apply for an MRC project grant for your own department to carry out some of the work?’ said Milne.

Bannerman closed his eyes and kept rein on his tongue. ‘Perhaps,’ he said and put down the phone.

Bannerman was still in a bad mood when Shona arrived back at the apartment early evening.

‘Bad day?’ she asked, noticing Bannerman’s preoccupation.

‘You could say that,’ he smiled. ‘How about you?’

‘Oh, so-so,’ said Shona. ‘I seem to have spent most of my day listening to former friends speak of nothing but babies and mortgages and what Roger or Harry likes for his tea. They used to be interesting people!’ complained Shona. ‘Whatever happened to them?’,

The Age Fairy,’ said Bannerman.

The what?’

‘I have a theory. One night we go to bed and the Age Fairy comes and taps us on the shoulder. When we wake up we’re old and boring.’

Shona smiled and asked, ‘At what age does this Age Fairy come to call?’

‘No set age,’ replied Bannerman. ‘It can happen to some people when they’re in their twenties or in some cases not even by their sixties.’

‘Dare I ask …?’

‘I woke up one night and saw it there,’ said Bannerman. ‘It scared me.’

‘But it didn’t touch you. I can tell,’ said Shona.

‘I’m not so sure,’ said Bannerman.

‘What made your day so bad?’ asked Shona.

‘Dealing with the establishment.’

‘What do you mean, “the establishment”?’ asked Shona.

‘People with power. The people who run things in this country. Sometimes their behaviour is little short of downright dishonest.’

‘Never,’ said Shona sarcastically.

Bannerman looked at her and said, ‘Oh I know it’s popular to suggest that everyone in power is corrupt and self-seeking but I never really believed it. A few maybe, but I thought that basically, truth, honesty and integrity prevailed and operated in our best interests.’

‘And now you don’t?’

‘It’s what they perceive to be in our best interests that worries me,’ said Bannerman.

‘Such disillusionment calls for large quantities of medicinal alcohol,’ said Shona. ‘It’s my last night. Let me buy you a drink?’

‘No, no,’ protested Bannerman. ‘I’m indebted to you for driving me down here. I don’t think I could have made it otherwise. I insist on taking you out to dinner, unless you’ve made other arrangements?’

Shona smiled and said, ‘No, no other arrangements.’

Shona and Bannerman were on the verge of leaving the apartment; Bannerman was checking his pocket for the keys, when the doorbell rang. ‘Who on earth …’he muttered, pulling open the door. Lawrence Gill’s wife was standing there.

The department gave me your address; I hope you don’t mind, I understand you were the one who found Lawrence’s body?’

‘Er, yes, that’s so Mrs Gill and I’m very sorry, you have my deepest sympathy. I was actually going to come and see you before I left …’

Vera Gill was obviously waiting to be asked inside and Bannerman was acutely aware that Shona was standing just to the left of the door in the hallway. He felt embarrassed. ‘I was just on the point of going out,’ he said, uncomfortably aware of how callous he must appear.

‘I just wanted to know something about the place where he died,’ said Vera Gill. ‘I know it must sound silly but I’d like you to describe it to me, so I could picture it in my mind.’

‘Hello Vera,’ said Shona quietly coming out from behind Bannerman.

‘You!’ exclaimed Vera Gill, her eyes filling with suspicion. ‘What the … Oh I see, you’ve lost Lawrence, you’re after him now!’

‘Nothing like that,’ said Shona, with what Bannerman thought was admirable calmness. ‘It’s true I was once in love with your husband and I did have an affair with him, but that was many years ago. Lawrence did not run away to be with me. He didn’t leave you Vera; he loved you; that’s why he broke it off with me.’

Vera Gill stared wild-eyed at Shona and said, ‘Lying bitch! He was overheard on the phone making