Deception (14 page)

Steven got tired of just standing there so he took a stroll about the yard. He found a man carrying out repairs on a combine harvester there and said, ‘Nice day.’

‘
No’ bad,’ replied the man. ‘What’s your business then?’

‘
I’m here to see Mr Rafferty.’

The man looked him over before saying, ‘Another civil servant. Right?’

‘
Sort of.’

‘
We’ll soon have one each around here. What’s your particular bag?’

‘
Environment,’ said Steven.

‘
Environment? About time you buggers did something about the rat problem then. My laddie’s lying in St Johns with Weil’s disease thanks to these bastards. They’re all over the place.’

‘
I heard about that,’ said Steven, now remembering Macmillan telling him that one of the boys’ fathers worked on Crawhill Farm. He diplomatically didn’t point out that swimming in stagnant water where rats might be present was not the brightest thing to do at any time.

‘
Maybe you buggers could go up the canal and start beating the bastards to death with your umbrellas and briefcases!’

Steven smiled and said, ‘It’s a thought and I’ve heard worse suggestions.’

The man broke into a smile too, approving of Steven’s response. ‘Nae offence like.’

‘
None taken.’

Steven saw the man who’d opened the door to him coming towards him. He was now accompanied by another man, also smartly dressed.

‘
I got tired waiting,’ said Steven by way of explanation.

‘
Sorry about that. Mr Rafferty will see you now. Would you mind if we were present?’

‘
Who are you?’ asked Steven as he was ushered inside the house.

‘
I’m Charles Childs, this is Martin Leadbetter. We’re business associates of Mr Rafferty.’

Steven waited until Childs had led the way into the farmhouse kitchen and invited him to sit before asking exactly what business they were in.

‘
We’re venture capitalists,’ replied Childs.

‘
Venture capitalists?’ exclaimed Steven. He hadn’t reckoned on venture capital going into something like farming. Biotechnology on the other hand, would be quite another matter.’

Childs took his surprise as an invitation to explain unnecessarily what venture capital was. ‘We’re constantly on the lookout for good business opportunities to recommend to our principals. That’s why we’re here. We have the investment capital and Mr Rafferty has the ideal farm for investment from our point of view. The demand for organically grown produce is growing all the time.’

‘
And judging by the price they charge for it in supermarkets, you could well be on to a good thing,’ said Steven, hoping to relax the atmosphere. People were always more inclined to let things slip out when they felt secure.

Childs was pleased at his response and smiled. ‘Coffee?’ he asked.

‘
Please,’ replied Steven. ‘I expected Mr Rafferty to be here?’

‘
He was on the telephone, I’ll just go fetch him,’ explained Leadbetter.

Childs had just put a large caffetiere down in the middle of the table when Leadbetter returned with Rafferty. ‘Sorry about that,’ said Rafferty. ‘I had to call the vet about my dog. He’s sick again.’ He stretched out his hand and said, ‘Tom Rafferty, what can I do for you?’

Steven knew from the Sci-Med file that Rafferty was forty-eight. He looked younger thanks to a shock of curly red hair. He wore jeans, carpet slippers and a checked shirt, open at the collar to reveal a gold chain.

‘
Good of you to see me, Mr Rafferty, I’m Steven Dunbar from the Sci-Med Inspectorate in London. I’d like to ask you a few questions.’

‘
Fire away,’ said Rafferty, helping himself to coffee. Childs had already filled the other cups on the table.

‘
Have you always had an interest in organic farming?’

‘
Can’t say I have,’ replied Rafferty, a bit unsurely.

‘
So what made you apply for accreditation?’

‘
A business proposition from these gentlemen.’

Steven admired Rafferty’s apparent honesty. ‘Does this mean that you intend to sell the farm or at least take on business partners?’ he asked.

‘
No, definitely not,’ said Rafferty abruptly. ‘I’m keeping the farm. It’s mine and it stays that way. I have to keep it.’

‘
Have to?’ asked Steven, puzzled at Rafferty’s strong reaction to his question. The man suddenly looked very vulnerable.

Rafferty looked at Childs first and then directly at Steven. ‘Trish, my wife left me. She had good reason to. If I show her that I’ve turned over a new leaf and can make Crawhill a going concern again, I think she’ll come back to me.’

Steven got the impression that Rafferty had rehearsed what he’d just said. He said, ‘But you’ve got a plant hire business. I thought it was doing quite well?’

‘
Not that well. The machines are getting old. They need a lot of attention. Trish always said it was lazy money. She never liked that.’

‘
I see,’ said Steven. ‘So how exactly does your business arrangement with these gentlemen work?’

‘
They put up the finance for the change over and subsidise the farm until it’s up and running. When I start to make a profit they’ll get their money back and a handsome return on their investment.’

‘
What about the plant hire business?’

‘
I’m not sure.’

‘
I see. You’re taking a bit of a risk aren’t you?’

‘
I want Trish back,’ said Rafferty.

Christ, I know the feeling, thought Steven, suddenly feeling sorry for Rafferty but at least in Rafferty’s case it was possible.

‘
I don’t really think there’s much risk involved,’ said Childs. ‘Organic produce is a winner.’

Steven nodded but inside he was thinking that this was a strange thing for a venture capitalist to say. Surely the whole point of venture capital enterprise was to deliberately seek out and invest in high-risk projects with a view to getting really big returns? When all was said and done, high street banks would be happy to invest in sure-fire winners and wouldn’t demand nearly so much in return. He kept this however, to himself. ‘How far along the road have you come to getting your organic farm off the ground?’ he asked Rafferty.

‘
Lane’s GM crop is holding things up.’

‘
You didn’t know about that when you applied for accreditation?’

‘
Of course not. The bastard kept it a secret from the whole village, didn’t he?’

‘
Mr Lane says you were aware of it.’

‘
Bullshit.’

‘
The application was made in good faith,’ said Childs.

‘
If you say so. Was it you who contracted for an analysis of the crop on Peat Ridge Farm?’ Steven asked.

‘
Me?’ exclaimed Rafferty. ‘Of course not, that’s an official government lab analysis.’

‘
So where did the report come from?’

‘
Our lawyers, McGraw and Littlejohn, got a copy.’

‘
How?’

‘
I’ve no bloody idea. I suppose someone figured out what Lane and that bloody company he’s in cahoots with were up to and sent them a copy to help with our protest.’

‘
That’s our understanding too,’ said Childs.

‘
Does your venture capital company have a name, Mr Childs?’ Steven asked.

‘
We’re not really a company as such,’ replied Childs with what he believed to be a disarming smile. ‘Just a group of wealthy individuals who like a challenge.’

Steven stared at him until he felt compelled to add, ‘However, if you should need to ask anything you can use any of these numbers.’ He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a business card, which he handed over.

Steven looked at it.
Pentangle Venture
, it said. The phone and Fax numbers had a London code. ‘Thank you, gentlemen. You’ve been most helpful.’

EIGHT

Steven stopped for a moment to speak to the man in the yard he’d talked to earlier. This time, he was crossing the yard carrying a can of fuel oil. ‘I hope your son gets better soon,’ said Steven.

‘
Cheers,’ said the man. ‘Don’t forget to tell the briefcases to start swinging at these rats.’

‘
I’m on my way there now,’ smiled Steven. ‘I might just put your idea to them.’

‘
A hard day’s work wid kill the buggers.’

At that moment an unearthly howl interrupted the conversation. ‘What the hell was that?’ asked Steven.

‘
Just Khan,’ said the man. ‘Tom Rafferty’s dog. I think he’s going to have to get him put down or maybe a part in a Hammer movie!’

‘
He said his dog was sick,’ remembered Steven. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘
If it was human, he would have been banged up as a psychopath long ago and if anything, he’s been getting worse of late. Tom’s had him for years. Christ knows what he sees in him. He scares the shit out of everyone else. Mind you, maybe that’s the reason!’

‘
I think Mr Rafferty said something about phoning the vet,’ said Steven.

‘
He scares the shit out of the vet too!’

The howl went up again and Steven said, ‘Right, I’m off.’

He changed his mind about going directly over to the Blackbridge Arms. He felt that he needed to walk for a bit and do some thinking. He didn’t want to tramp round the depressing streets of Blackbridge so he opted once more for the canal towpath, this time heading west along the southern edge of Peat Ridge Farm. He paused for a moment to look at the golden flowers of the oilseed rape crop in the fields, thinking that it looked exactly the same as any other oilseed rape he’d ever seen but then, as he reminded himself, there was no reason why it shouldn’t. It made him reflect that people, including himself, tended to associate genetic alteration with physical change. In fact, they were happier when this was the case because you knew where you were with something you could see. Knowing that the genetic material of this crop had been altered in some
invisible
way put it in the same league as other things you couldn’t see, like viruses or bacteria or poison. He moved on when he became aware of a patrolling security guard regarding him suspiciously and then start to move towards him.

He had now spoken to both the main parties in the current dispute. Ronald Lane was an unpleasant, abrasive individual, capable of being devious and opportunist, he had no doubt, but he was the kind who took pride in doing so within the rules of the game. There were a lot of businessmen like that. They saw it as sailing close to the wind and it gave them a buzz. Thomas Rafferty, on the other hand, was not nearly so well educated or accomplished as Lane but could probably be just as devious, given the chance. The villagers, by all accounts, saw him as a bit of a rogue, a man who drank too much and who didn’t have too much liking for hard work but this morning, he had seen a man who had lost his wife and who appeared to want her back desperately. To this end, he seemed prepared to change, maybe even start out on a whole new course in life with the organic farming venture. Could this particular really leopard change his spots? he wondered or was not the road to hell paved with good intentions?

The players behind the two principals were very different characters. Phillip Grimble, the technical director of Agrigene seemed a thoroughly decent individual who had been reluctant to even consider the company’s competitors stooping to skulduggery. This could have been an act, of course. Coming across as a thoroughly decent individual was a prime requisite for any successful confidence trickster, but in Grimble’s case, he didn’t think that was the case. Childs and Leadbetter warranted more suspicion. Venture capitalists getting into organic farming? Backing a man like Tom Rafferty? Even for people who liked a challenge, Rafferty struck him as one hell of a risk to take on for the sake of a few fields of vegetables.

On the other hand, Pentangle had not actually put their money where their mouth was to any great extent. They had not purchased a share in Crawhill, although, he conceded that that might have been down to Rafferty refusing them one. Rafferty had reacted quite strongly when asked if he had sold the farm or any part of it. At the moment, Pentangle’s investment was minimal apart from the fact that they were picking up the protestors’ legal bills. They had not however, admitted to being behind the independent analysis of the Agrigene crop and that was odd. According to Rafferty, the report had been sent to McGraw and Littlejohn from person or persons unknown. Maybe that was the way it had been done but if Pentangle should turn out to have any connection with a rival biotech company, it might explain just about everything.

It was even a very clever idea to hide behind a venture capital initiative, thought Steven. The only thing it didn’t explain was why they had gone to all this trouble. This was a real puzzle. According to Phillip Grimble – and he thought he believed him - there was very little to be gained from putting a halt to one GM trial on a crop that was being tested at several sites all over the UK.