The Gulf Conspiracy (23 page)

‘
You mean Porton fancied a bit of extra money?’ said Steven.

‘
Not quite that simple,’ said Macmillan. ‘Porton – in terms of its director and administrators - appears to have known nothing at all about it.’

‘
Bloody hell,’ said Steven.

‘
My informant is continuing to pick away at it but it looks as if someone who knew about the existence of the Beta Team budget decided to recruit for it at Porton and have the team work on something the others knew nothing at all about.’

‘
The agent D’Arcy told me about last night,’ said Steven. ‘Crowe’s team was the Beta Team of its day.’

Macmillan nodded. ‘Which raises several awkward questions . . .’

‘
Not least, did the government know about this project at the time?’ said Steven. ‘Maybe they even instigated it?’

‘
A can of worms on its own,’ said Macmillan.’

‘
But it looks as if the accident at Porton was kept secret from them otherwise they wouldn’t have contemplated using up the old vaccine stocks,’ said Steven.

‘
On the other hand there have been several changes of government in the last twelve years,’ said Macmillan. ‘We can’t overlook simple cock-ups.’

‘
I suppose not,’ said Steven.

‘
Happily we are not alone in this. My man in high places – who must remain nameless - is equally worried. He’ll get back to me when he’s established whether or not he thinks it was a government-of-the-day initiative or whether it was some kind of . . . private enterprise?’

‘
I’m not sure which of these would be the more comforting,’ said Steven with a rueful shrug. ‘In the meantime I’ll try and get as much as I can out of D’Arcy.’

Macmillan’s phone rang and he snapped into it that he had asked not to be disturbed.

Steven heard the faint, soothing tones of explanation being given by Rose Roberts.

‘
Put him on,’ said Macmillan.

Steven watched Macmillan’s face turn ashen as he listened. He appeared to age before his eyes before he said, ‘Thank you for letting me know.’

‘
It’s D’Arcy,’ said Macmillan. ‘He’s dead.’

Steven felt a hollow open up in his stomach. ‘But how?’ he asked. ‘He was quite stable and in an IC unit, for God’s sake.’

‘
A “doctor” whom the hospital’s people believed to be one of ours and whom our people believed to be one of theirs gained access to D’Arcy and administered a lethal injection. He was dead within seconds.’

Steven felt a mixture of anger and shock. ‘How could they possibly have known where he was?’

‘
What a good question,’ said Macmillan.

‘
I told Jane Sebring,’ said Steven.

‘
I see,’ said Macmillan. The question,
why
, was hanging in the air but wasn’t asked. Instead Macmillan said quietly, ‘Am I right in thinking that this woman means something to you?’

Steven nodded. ‘A great deal.’

‘
Show me a man who’s never made a fool of himself over a woman and I’ll show you a man without a heart,’ said Macmillan.

Steven acknowledged the kindness and smiled but it faded almost immediately and he said, ‘But Michael D’Arcy’s dead.’

Steven faced another question he had been trying to avoid. Why had an attempt been made on D’Arcy’s life on the very day he had intended to confront him? The man had been in possession of whatever secret information he’d held for nearly twelve years so why had he suddenly been seen as a danger on that very day? Coincidence? Or had someone been tipped off about his impending visit? Only one person had known about it and that was Jane.

Steven closed his eyes to hide whatever was showing there from Macmillan’s gaze as he felt the acid drip of suspicion burn inside his head.

‘
Of course we could be jumping to conclusions here,’ said Macmillan. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’

Steven told him that Jane was the only person who knew of his plans yesterday.

‘
Maybe someone overheard you telling her?’

‘
I told her over the phone.’

Macmillan’s eyes hardened. ‘Mobile?’

‘
My mobile . . . but her house phone,’ said Steven, suddenly seeing what Macmillan was thinking. ‘Same as when I told her about D’Arcy’s transfer!’

‘
They’ve probably had a tap on George Sebring’s house phone for years,’ said Macmillan.

Steven felt a flood of relief surge through him but almost immediately he started to feel guilty over what he’d imagined. ‘Oh my God,’ he sighed.

‘
Now, we don’t know for sure that’s what’s been happening,’ cautioned Macmillan. ‘But I think my money’s on it.

Steven nodded.

‘
But if that’s the case,’ said Macmillan, ‘they must know everything that’s passed between you two over the phone. Where does that leave us?’

‘
I’ll have to think back.’

‘
Did you pass on what D’Arcy told you about the agent before he died?’

Steven admitted he had.

‘
In which case,’ said Macmillan slowly measuring his words, ‘They may conclude that Mrs Sebring knows too much . . .’

‘
But we know about it too,’ said Steven. ‘There would be no point in harming Jane.’

‘
Unless they saw her as a loose cannon who might go to the newspapers and stir up a hornet’s nest about the contaminated vaccine and her husband’s death?’

‘
God, I have to get up there.’

‘
Does she have a mobile phone?’

Steven shook his head. ‘We joked about it. She won’t have one. She got so fed up with her pupils’ phones ringing in class that she took a real dislike to them. She refuses to have one herself. I’ve got to warn her.’

‘
You can’t risk the house phone,’ said Macmillan.

‘
I know, I know,’ murmured Steven, drumming his fingers lightly and rapidly on the desktop as he sought inspiration. ‘Look, maybe you could ask the Leicester Police to go round there on some pretext,’ he said. ‘Get them to take her down to headquarters and hold on to her until I get there?

‘
I’ll get on to them right away,’ said Macmillan.

‘
And maybe Rose could set up safe-house accommodation? I’ll call later to get the details?’ said Steven, anxious to be on his way.

Macmillan picked up the phone but indicated that Steven should not leave just yet. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk with his free hand and withdrew an automatic pistol and a shoulder holster. ‘You know how I feel about these things,’ he said. ‘But after what happened last night to D’Arcy I got Rose to order up this for you. It’s your preferred weapon. Sign for it before you leave.’

Steven took off his jacket, slipped on the Burns Martin holster and checked the magazine of the gun before putting it away and re-donning his jacket. He pocketed three boxes of shells and all without comment. He had no greater liking for guns on the streets than Macmillan but on occasions it made sense and this was one of them.

Steven went out to Rose Roberts’ office and signed for the weapon.

‘
If you lose it you pay for it,’ smiled Rose but there was little humour in her eyes when she said it, nor was there much in Steven’s answering grin. When he returned to Macmillan’s office he asked, ‘All right?’

‘
They’re on their way,’ said Macmillan. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I hear she’s safe. Perhaps on the drive up to Leicester you can give some thought to how we go about getting more information about this damned agent now that D’Arcy’s dead. We have to know more than we do before we can start to make waves.’

‘
I already have,’ said Steven. ‘But I need to talk to a molecular biologist.’ He told Macmillan about Maclean’s bacterial culture collection. ‘I’m convinced the agent is lurking in that lot somewhere but it’s been so well disguised that it’s going to be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack,’ he said. ‘I’m hoping there may be some quick way of checking for DNA changes in bacterial strains other than sequencing the entire genome of every bug.’

‘
I’ll see what I can set up,’ said Macmillan.

Steven had been driving for some forty minutes when his mobile rang. He slowed so that he could hear it above the engine noise. It was Macmillan to say that Jane was now safe at police headquarters and was none too pleased because no one could or would tell her what was going on.

‘
Sounds like her,’ said Steven. ‘How about accommodation?’

‘
That’s been arranged too,’ said Macmillan. ‘Rose will text you the details.’

‘
Steven, just what the hell is going on?’ demanded Jane when she saw Steven enter the interview room where she was seated at a table, an untouched cup of tea in front of her. ‘Why am I being held here? No one will tell me anything.’

Steven raised both his palms in a placatory gesture. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You’re not being held. I asked them to bring you here for your own safety.’

‘
My safety,’ said Jane, her anger giving way to something more circumspect. ‘What does that mean?’

Steven sat down and took both her hands in his. ‘Michael D’Arcy was murdered earlier today in St Thomas’s Hospital,’ he said.

Jane’s eyes searched Steven’s, trying to make some connection between the news and her own predicament. ‘How awful,’ she said.

‘
I take it you didn’t tell anyone he was there?’

‘
Of course not,’ said Jane. ‘Who would I tell?’

‘
You were the only person outside of Sci-Med who knew where he was,’ said Steven.

Jane looked at him as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘I don’t think I understand,’ she said. ‘What are you suggesting?’

‘
That your home phone has been tapped,’ said Steven, having seen all he wanted in Jane’s reactions. ‘Someone has been listening in to all our conversations.’

‘
Oh my God,’ said Jane, letting her head fall down on to her chest.

‘
You made me promise to tell you everything,’ said Steven.

Jane nodded but more in trepidation than conviction.

‘
I told you over the phone about going to see D’Arcy unannounced. They beat me to it. I told you over the phone where we were going to squirrel him away and they got to him and finished the job. I told you over the phone about the agent George had been working on,’ said Steven.

‘
And?’ asked Jane.

‘
There’s a chance that they may see you as a potential problem . . .’

Jane looked as if she were about to go on to overload. ‘Are you saying that someone may try to kill me?’ she asked in a very small voice.

‘
It’s a possibility,’ said Steven. ‘Maybe a remote one but we didn’t want to take any chances.’

‘
But I only know what you and your organisation know,’ Jane protested weakly.

‘
I thought that too,’ said Steven. ‘But John Macmillan pointed out that they might be afraid of you going to the papers with what you know. He has a point.’

‘
Who’d believe me?’ said Jane.

‘
You’re the wife of a former Porton Down scientist who was recently found murdered,’ said Steven. ‘They might very well run it just to see what happens.’

‘
So what happens now?’ asked Jane, now visibly angry.

‘
I think you should move out of your home for the time being,’ said Steven. ‘Just until we get to the bottom of this.’

‘
Move out,’ repeated Jane as if it were a death sentence. ‘Leave my home, my friends, my job . . . and go hide somewhere?’

‘
Steven came round to Jane’s side of the table and put his arms on her shoulders. ‘I know,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry I got you into this. I’d do anything to turn back the clock and give you your life back but there’s nothing anyone can do now. Hang in there and we’ll come through this together.’

‘
A brighter tomorrow,’ said Jane, her voice tinged with sarcasm. ‘If I live that long.’

‘
I won’t let anything happen to you; I promise,’ said Steven. He brought Jane to her feet and held her tight. Jane felt the weapon under his left arm as she reciprocated. ‘Oh my God,’ she murmured. ‘If I were a braver person I’d make some kind of Mae West joke but I’m not. Right now I’m a very scared person.’

Steven kissed the top of her head. ‘Let’s get started,’ he said.

‘
I take it you’re going to let me pick up some things from my house?’ asked Jane as they got into Steven’s car.

‘
Of course,’ said Steven. This had not been his intention but he saw that denying her might be a step too far after what Jane had been through. In the current situation some clothes and a few personal possessions might well assume an importance beyond their actual substance.

Steven turned the car round and parked it in the street as they wouldn’t be staying long. He waited downstairs while Jane got some things together, looking out of the window while he waited.

From upstairs he heard Jane call out, ‘This is crazy. What will all my friends think if I just disappear? What about the school? My classes? Look, I really don’t think I can do this.’

‘
Everything will be fine,’ Steven replied. ‘I’ll get you a mobile phone and you can call your friends. Just don’t tell them where you really are. Invent a sick relative in Yorkshire.’