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 restau
rant 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 sign. He took a look round the car for
signs of damage and failed to see anything. After a
second inspection he thought he detected a small
scrape on the rear bumper but when he bent down to touch it he found that it disappeared when he rubbed
it; it was dirt. He stood up and took another look
around the car-park; it remained silent and empty.
Bannerman shrugged his shoulders and decided that
the man must have left when he saw that there
were no real signs of damage after all. Modern
plastic bumpers could take much more in the way
of impact than the old metal ones without showing
signs of damage. He started to walk back up the
lane leading to the front of the hotel when, sud
denly, he was gripped from behind and pushed
hard up against the wall of the building. His bro
ken nose came into contact with the rough stone
and he let out a yelp of pain. Tears welled up in
his eyes.
‘Where is Colin Turnbull’s body?’ rasped a voice
behind him.
‘I’ve no idea,’ gasped Bannerman, as he fought
against having his arms twisted up his back.
‘You were told that Julie Turnbull didn’t want the
body interfered with, weren’t you?’ said the voice. The statement was punctuated with another painful
jerk on his arms. ‘But that wasn’t good enough for
you was it?’
Bannerman let out a gasp of pain and tried to lean
forward to take some of the pressure off his shoulder
sockets. As he did so a knee came up and caught
him between the legs. He cried out and the grip
on him was relaxed, allowing him to fall to the
ground.
‘Where is the body?’ repeated the voice.
Bannerman thought he recognized it despite the
fact that the man was angry and rasping rather than
speaking. He turned over and saw his attackers. There
were two of them. Mitchell, the security chief, and one
of the two power workers who had been plaguing his
life. ‘You should bloody know!’ he replied through
his pain.
‘What does that mean?’ demanded Mitchell, draw
ing back his foot as if to kick Bannerman on the ground.
Bannerman curled up defensively. When the kick wasn’t delivered he said, ‘What’s this pantomime all
about Mitchell? Your lot took it away last night. How
do you think I got a face like this?’
Mitchell took a closer look at Bannerman’s face
and saw the black eyes and damage to his nose.
He seemed lost for words for a moment. ‘Are you
trying to tell me that you didn’t have Turnbull’s body
removed for pathology?’ he said.
‘Of course I didn’t,’ gasped Bannerman. ‘And you
were the only ones interested in preventing me doing that. You have interfered with my work here through every step of the way because you imagine I’m trying
to close you down, so what is all this crap about me
taking the body?’
‘We haven’t got it,’ said Mitchell.
‘Jesus,’ gasped Bannerman, overloaded with pain
and frustration. ‘I don’t believe this place …’
‘Who else would want it?’ said Mitchell.
‘You,’ accused Bannerman.
‘Why do you keep saying that?’ demanded Mitchell.
‘Julie Turnbull didn’t want you quacks getting your
hands on Colin. We’re just seeing that her wishes
are respected.’
‘Like hell you are,’ rasped Bannerman.
The power worker, the man Bannerman had the
run in with in the hotel washroom on the previous
evening, moved as if to strike him but Mitchell put
out a restraining hand.
Bannerman looked up at the man and said, ‘All the
sheep aren’t on the hills are they Mitchell?’
The insult proved too much for the power worker
who lashed out with his foot and caught Bannerman
in the solar plexus.
Bannerman brought up the contents of his stomach
and curled up in agony. Through his pain he heard
Mitchell berate the man then turn his attention back
to him. ‘If it’s any comfort Doctor,’ he said, ‘I believe
you. Perhaps you will believe me when I say that
… we haven’t got it either.’ The men left, leaving
Bannerman lying on the cobbles.
Bannerman got to his knees and paused for a moment
with one hand against the wall of the hotel. He could
hear the engine of an approaching car. It slowed and
turned into the lane leading from the main street to
the hotel car-park. As its headlights swung round
they caught him in their glare and the car came to
a halt. Bannerman shielded his eyes and heard a car
door being slammed as the driver got out.
‘My dear Doctor. What on earth happened?’ asked a friendly voice. It was Joop van Gelder.
‘
I was mugged,’ replied Bannerman.
‘This is awful,’ exclaimed van Gelder. ‘Are you
hurt badly? Can you stand? Let’s get you inside and
then I’ll call the police.’
‘No, no police,’ said Bannerman.
‘But …’
‘Really, no police. It’s personal. Just leave it.’
‘Personal?’ exclaimed van Gelder. ‘You mean you
know who did this to you?’
‘Just give me a hand up will you.’
Van Gelder helped Bannerman to his feet and
supported him on one side, up the lane leading to
the front of the hotel. As they passed the Dutchman’s
car, Bannerman saw that there was a man sitting in
the front passenger seat. For some reason he couldn’t
fathom, alarm bells started ringing in his head. He
felt sure that he knew the man but in his present
state he couldn’t think clearly enough to put a name
to him.
Shona came rushing over as soon as he was
through the front door. ‘I was just coming to find you. Just look at you! What happened?’
‘Let’s say there was a misunderstanding over the
fate of Colin Turnbull’s body,’ said Bannerman.
‘Come upstairs. Can you manage?’ Shona took
over from van Gelder and helped Bannerman
upstairs. Van Gelder called after them, ‘I still think
you should let me call the police.’
‘No,’ said Bannerman. Thanks for your assis
tance.’
Shona closed the room door and said, Tell me. What
happened out there?’
‘It was Mitchell from the power station and one
of his pet monkeys. They thought I had stolen
Turnbull’s body to carry out an autopsy.’
They thought
you
had taken the body?’ exclaimed
Shona. ‘But you were sure that
they
had taken it!’
That’s about the size of it,’ agreed Bannerman,
holding his stomach.
‘What hurts most?’ asked Shona.
‘I’d rather not say,’ said Bannerman.
Shona smiled sympathetically. She said, ‘You don’t believe in taking the easy way do you
Ian?’
‘Character-building stuff,’ said Bannerman through
gritted teeth.
‘So who did take the body, and why?’ asked
Shona.
‘An embarrassing question,’ said Bannerman.
‘Embarrassing?’
‘Because I haven’t a clue.’
Bannerman changed out of his soiled clothes and
cleaned himself up. Shona helped by applying cotton
wool soaked in antiseptic to some new superficial
cuts and grazes.
‘Will you be fit enough to travel in the morning?’
asked Shona.
‘Yes
…
if you’ll drive?’
‘Don’t I always?’ said Shona.
Bannerman smiled. It turned out to be more of a
grimace.
‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Brandy.’
‘Large?’
‘Enormous … and Shona?’
‘Yes?’
‘If you get the chance, try to find out who van
Gelder was with this evening, will you?’
‘Still playing detective?’ smiled Shona.
‘Not for much longer,’ said Bannerman. ‘But I feel
sure I know the man who was sitting in his car. I just
can’t place him and it’s bothering me.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ said Shona.
Shona left the room and Bannerman got to his feet
to walk slowly round the room. His aches and pains
were beginning to subside and the question of who
had taken the body was now uppermost in his mind.
Julie Turnbull could not have known about it or she
would have raised hell at their meeting, unless, of
course, she had arranged it! That seemed to be the
most likely explanation. Julie Turnbull had arranged
for her husband’s body to be removed from the
hospital for safety. Perhaps he should let sleeping
dogs lie. His first priority was to get the infected
sheep brain to Munro in Edinburgh. Searching for
Turnbull’s body would only delay matters. He and
Shona would set off for Edinburgh first thing in the
morning. Events in Stobmor could take their natural
course.