MacLeod read it out and Bannerman copied it down. ‘I’m grateful to you,’ he said.
‘Just don’t upset her,’ said MacLeod.
Bannerman left the hotel, assuring Shona that he shouldn’t be any longer than half an hour. He had dressed casually, hoping that this might help dispel Julie Turnbull’s initial impression of him as a ghoul, hell-bent on stealing her husband’s brain. Shona had suggested that a suit and tie might be deemed more respectful but Bannerman decided that Julie would have seen enough black ties in the last twenty-four hours. He wore a sweater, slacks and a leather jerkin.
Bannerman followed MacLeod’s directions and found the house in a quiet street three blocks north of the primary school where Julie worked. The blinds were half drawn. There was an air of nearness and order about the place, an air which extended to others in the row with one exception. The house which stood three doors away from the Turnbull’s cottage had two wrecked cars in its drive. Its garden was unkempt and a motor cycle with its back wheel missing was propped up against the front wall. There’s always one,’ thought Bannerman.
Julie Turnbull was wearing black. Her face was pale and her eyes were ringed with redness. She took a pace back to indicate that Bannerman should come in but didn’t say anything until they were in the living-room. ‘I really didn’t want to see you Dr Bannerman but Dr MacLeod persuaded me that I should.’
‘I’m grateful to you, Mrs Turnbull,’ replied Bannerman. ‘Please believe me when I say that you have my deepest sympathy. I met your husband on several occasions when I was last here and I liked him a lot.’
‘What is it you want to know?’ asked Julie Turnbull.
‘I want to know if Colin knew any of the other men who died recently in Achnagelloch and Stobmor.’
‘He knew the man who worked at the garage. Colin had his car serviced there.’
‘Were they close friends?’
‘No.’
‘How about the men from Inverladdie Farm?’
‘He didn’t know them at all.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘He may have known them to nod to in the street, but no better than that,’ said Julie. ‘He steered clear of sheep farmers whenever he could.’
‘Why was that?’
‘Colin was a clever man, Dr Bannerman. He worked as a labourer but he had a good brain. He was bored by constant talk of sheep. He resented the fact that so much of the life of the town revolved around sheep and sheep farming. I think that’s what made him decide to do a part-time degree. It exercised his mind. It gave him the stimulation he needed.’
Bannerman nodded. He asked, ‘Did you and Colin ever eat apart?’
Julie Turnbull’s face registered surprise at the question. She half shrugged her shoulders in bewilderment and said, ‘No, not that I can think of, except for lunch of course.’
‘Lunch?’
‘Colin took sandwiches to the quarry.’
‘Who made them?’
‘Me. What are you suggesting Doctor? That Colin was killed by something he ate?’
Bannerman was reluctant to commit himself to a straight answer. He said, ‘Mrs Turnbull it’s important that I establish certain details about Colin’s diet over the past two weeks or so. Please bear with me.’
‘What details?’ asked Julie Turnbull.
‘Sheep products in particular. Mutton, lamb.’
‘That’s easy, none.’
‘None?’
‘Colin disliked sheep meat. He never ate it at all.’
‘Never?’ repeated Bannerman, feeling failure descend on him like a lead yoke.
‘Never.’
‘Does this mean that Colin was vegetarian?’
‘No. He liked nothing better than a good steak. He simply didn’t like mutton or lamb.’
Bannerman tried desperately to think of another way that Turnbull could have contracted the disease. He knew he would probably not have another chance to question Julie Turnbull. He asked a broad general question, ‘Did anything change about Colin’s lifestyle in the past two to three weeks? Did he do anything out of the ordinary or different?’
Julie shook her head slowly as she considered. ‘No, I don’t think so, except for the geological survey of course.’
‘Tell me about that,’ said Bannerman.
‘He’s been doing geology for his degree. He thought he would impress Mr van Gelder if he carried out a survey of the land in the surrounding area.’
‘I remember him saying something about that the last time I saw him,’ said Bannerman. ‘He was hoping for a better job with the company.’
‘That’s right,’ replied Julie. She paused as she considered that this would not now ever happen.
‘When did he do this Mrs Turnbull?’
‘At the weekends.’
‘Was he out last weekend?’ Julie Turnbull nodded.
‘Do you know where?’
Julie shook her head but she got up and went over to a writing desk to open the drawer. She pulled out a series of charts and said, These are Colin’s notes on his work.’
‘May I borrow them?’
Julie handed them over without saying anything.
Bannerman got up to go. He thanked Julie, offered his sympathy again and said, ‘I’ll see that these are returned to you.’
‘How did it go?’ asked Shona when Bannerman got back to the hotel.
‘Not good,’ replied Bannerman. ‘Turnbull never ate mutton or lamb. He didn’t like it.’
‘What rotten luck,’ said Shona. ‘Just as it all seemed to fit together.’
Bannerman smiled wryly and said, ‘That’s the way it goes.’
‘Perhaps he ate it without knowing?’
‘How?’
‘In a stew or a curry or something.’
Bannerman hadn’t considered that possibility but he dismissed it after a little thought. Turnbull ate nothing but what his wife cooked except for lunch-times when he ate sandwiches prepared by her. She wouldn’t have given him something he didn’t like.’
‘I suppose not,’ agreed Shona. ‘Maybe a restaurant meal she forgot about?’
‘If infected meat had been served in a restaurant there would have been lots of cases,’ said Bannerman.
‘So how did he get it?’ asked Shona.
‘I wish to hell I knew.’
FIFTEEN
Bannerman and Shona were sitting in the hotel bar just after ten o’clock when the barman came over to say that Banner-man’s car had been bumped in the car-park by a leaving customer. He didn’t think the damage was great but would he mind taking a look? The driver concerned was waiting for him in the car-park.
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Bannerman. The hire company will have me black-listed if this goes on.’
‘Don’t lose your temper,’ cautioned Shona with a smile.
‘Won’t be long,’ said Bannerman.
He walked round to the hotel car-park and over to his car. The car-park wasn’t well lit — a single lamp was mounted on the back wall of the hotel — but he should have been able to see anyone waiting there. There was no
