Deception (22 page)

‘
Don’t jump to conclusions,’ said Steven but he was wondering just how many other people were going to leap to exactly the same one.

‘
Of course not,’ said Brewer sourly.

‘
Otherwise it could be a recipe for disaster,’ added Steven, looking directly at Brewer so that he fully understood what he meant.’

‘
Frankly, Doctor,’ said Brewer, ‘There are times when I’m tempted to torch the bloody stuff myself.’

Steven drove back to the hotel and, despite having bathed a few hours earlier, took a shower in order to free himself of the lingering smell of formaldehyde. He hated the foetid sweetness of it and the images it conjured up. The smell went but the image of McNish’s body stayed with him despite the best efforts of three gin and tonics. The rats at Blackbridge had actually killed a man – maybe two people if you counted Ian Ferguson as well. That was some behavioural change. True it wasn’t known just how much provocation there had been, at least not in the case of McNish. It was possible that he had fallen into the canal in his drunken state and provoked them in some way, just as it was possible that the Ferguson boy might have stood on one, but it was a worry all the same. Something would have to be done.

Just what that something would be was taken out of everyone’s hands next morning when the Clarion story appeared, confirming Jamie Brown’s worst fears about what McColl might do. The paper had used a funeral photograph on its front page. As predicted by Brown, it was the one of the rat sitting on top of Ian Ferguson’s coffin with McNish looking on with eyes like a homicidal maniac in the background. The headline screamed, ‘THIS SCANDAL HAS TO STOP’. The story was angled as a crusade against what the paper saw as the disgrace of an ever-increasing rat population in the Union Canal while the authorities did little or nothing at all about it. Yesterday one of these, ‘filthy creatures’ had defiled the funeral of Blackbridge teenager, Ian Ferguson, bringing unnecessary pain and anguish to his grieving family.

‘
Not that your shitty little rag isn’t doing exactly that . . .’ murmured Steven as he read on.

The paper extended its heart-felt sympathy to the Fergusons and promised to keep up pressure on ‘the guilty ones’ until something was done and no one else would have to go through the hell they’d been through.

Steven felt like vomiting at the hypocrisy but at least the Clarion hadn’t cottoned on to the change of behaviour angle. That was a blessing, he thought. A campaign against increasing rat numbers would probably result in a local rat cull and right now, that sounded just fine. The paper went on to complain about the continuing strength of feeling against the GM crop trial in Blackbridge and deplored the authorities’ lack of progress in sorting it out. They called for intervention at ministerial level and demanded that the relevant ministers return from their ‘endless’ holiday to take charge. They went on to list the ministers concerned from both the Westminster and Scottish parliaments and gave details of their salaries and the length of the summer vacation and even where they were currently sunning themselves. ‘We want organ grinders dealing with the situation, not monkeys,’ demanded the Clarion. ‘There are enough of them to start a zoo!’

Jamie Brown turned up at the hotel just as Steven was preparing to drive out to Blackbridge. He handed over the letter that he’d promised and Steven put it in his inside pocket with a nod of thanks.

‘
You’ve seen McColl’s piece?’

Steven nodded.

‘
Makes you wonder about the human race, huh?’

‘
Despair would be a better word,’ said Steven.

‘
What are your plans?’

‘
I think I’ll have another word with Eve Ferguson. She’s a friend of Trish Rafferty’s. Maybe Trish said something to her or maybe just dropped a clue about what’s been going on. I’ll see if I can jog her memory. You?’

‘
I’ve been told to ask the authorities what they plan to do about the rat problem now that it’s been highlighted by our friend, McColl. Do you have any idea what they’ll do?’

‘
They can’t use poison because it would mean contaminating the entire canal and killing off everything in it so that leaves mounting some kind of cull using firearms.’

‘
How successful would that be?’

‘
Not very,’ said Steven. ‘But don’t quote me on that. It’s the gesture that’s all-important in this instance. The powers-that-be will just want to be seen doing something in order to get McColl off their backs.’

‘
If I didn’t know you better, Doctor, I’d say you were a cynic.’

‘
I prefer realist,’ said Steven.

‘
Me too but it’s a lost cause. Every time I hear Barbra Streisand singing, ‘People’, I want to throw up.’

They parted company and Steven reflected on the one thing that he had not shared with Brown, the information about the change in the rats’ behaviour and its possible link to the GM crop. His main reason for driving over to Blackbridge that morning was not to speak with Eve – although he intended to do that too – but to ask James Binnie if he’d heard anything back from the vet school yet about the PM examination on the rat.

‘
I’m afraid James is out on his rounds,’ said Ann Binnie when she opened the door to him.

‘
I feared he might be,’ Steven confessed. ‘Maybe you can tell me if he’s heard anything back from the university?’

Ann Binnie shook her head. ‘I’m pretty sure he didn’t get anything in the mail this morning,’ she said. ‘If he had, I’m sure he would have said. Why don’t I get him to call you as soon as he hears?’

Steven left his mobile phone number and thanked her, declining her kind offer of coffee. He walked along the street to the Blackbridge Arms and looked at his watch. It wasn’t quite lunchtime. Perhaps he could snatch a word with Eve before the rush started. He went into the bar and asked for a half of lager. He sipped it slowly until Eve noticed him standing there as she was passing between the kitchen and the dining room.

‘
Hello,’ she said. ‘Staying for lunch?’

‘
No, I actually wanted to see you. Do you have a minute?’

Eve looked doubtful and looked up at the clock over the bar. It was five to twelve. ‘Lunch starts in five minutes,’ she said.

‘
Five minutes will be fine.’

Eve took off her apron and put on a jacket.

‘
I went to see Trish Rafferty,’ Steven said as they started to walk.

‘
Was she very angry with me?’

‘
She doesn’t know anything about your involvement,’ said Steven. ‘She mistook me for someone else. She thought I’d come to see her for another reason entirely.’

‘
I don’t think I understand. What other reason?’

‘
Now that’s something I’d really like to know,’ said Steven. ‘Trish Rafferty is mixed up in this GM scandal business in some way but she saw through me before she said too much.’

‘
Trish? Involved? You’re joking.’

‘
I’m certain. She said enough to make me sure of that.’

‘
So where do I come into all this?’ asked Eve.

‘
I’d like you to think back to your last conversation with her just to see if you can remember her saying anything – anything at all, that you might have thought sounded odd at the time but probably dismissed as something you didn’t pick up properly. Anything at all.’

‘
I don’t think I remember anything like that,’ said Eve. ‘I’ve only seen her twice since she left.’

‘
And you noticed nothing strange about her at all. She wasn’t worried or secretive? She didn’t seem nervous?’

Eve shrugged. ‘In truth I suppose she was all of these things to a certain extent but as she had just left her husband I didn’t think there was anything strange or unusual about it. It was a big step to take after all these years.’

‘
I suppose so.’

‘
I do remember thinking at one point that she might have had another man on the go. It wasn’t anything she said. It was more an air of . . .’ Trish searched for the right word. ‘Guilt, I think. Yes, that was it. She struck me as having an air of guilt about her.’

‘
Could that have been about leaving her husband?’

‘
No, she didn’t say too much about that, come to think of it, but when she did speak about Tom it was as if she seemed relieved to be away from him, not feeling guilty.’

‘
Good,’ said Steven. ‘I couldn’t persuade you to visit her again, could I? This is important.’

Eve’s eyes widened. She asked, ‘Just what would I be getting into?’

‘
She just might confide in you what she was feeling guilty about whereas she wouldn’t dream of telling me.’

‘
And then I betray her to you?’

‘
You tell me if it’s something you think might concern me. If it turns out to be another bloke or she’s fiddling her tax return or even if she turns out to be the Brighton trunk murderer, I don’t want to know. Bargain?’

Eve looked anxiously at her watch. ‘I must go.’

‘
Will you do it?’

Eve looked very uncertain. ‘I really don’t know,’ she said. ‘God, I must go.’

‘
Have dinner with me tonight?’

‘
I’m working.’

‘
Tomorrow?’

Eve thought for a moment before saying. ‘All right. Pick me up here at seven thirty.’

Steven drove over to police headquarters in Livingston to see Brewer. He had just got out of his car when he saw Alex McColl coming out the building. He quickly ducked back in and pretended to be looking for something in the glove compartment until McColl had got into his own car and driven off.

‘
What did
he
want?’ asked Steven of Brewer.

‘
The cause of death for the Rev McNish,’ Brewer replied.

‘
That’s what I came here to talk to you about,’ exclaimed Steven, suddenly alarmed. ‘I hope you stalled him.’

‘
No, I gave him the official cause.’

‘
Shit.’

‘
Drowning.’

‘
What?’

Brewer pushed a piece of paper over the desk in Steven’s direction. ‘It’s official. The PM report says so.’

Steven couldn’t believe his eyes when he read through the report, concluding in, ‘Death by drowning’. He looked at Brewer. ‘Have you spoken to Levi about this?’ he asked.

‘
The good doctor has been hard to get hold of today. Ours is not to reason why,’ said Brewer.

‘
Who leaned on him?’ asked Steven.

Brewer just shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know,’ he said resignedly. ‘I just hope to God all you buggers know what you’re doing.’

THIRTEEN

Steven’s first thought was to go after Levi and demand to know why he had put a different cause of death on the PM report to the one he had already given orally to Brewer and himself at the city mortuary, but when he’d calmed down he decided against it. Doing that wasn’t going to solve anything and would just advertise his own involvement in the Blackbridge affair even more. He could certainly gain satisfaction from rattling Levi’s cage until the man admitted that he’d been leaned on but there really wasn’t any doubt about that. The real question was who had done the leaning? And he felt certain that Levi would not know the answer to that, just that the order had come down from on high.

Steven bit the bullet and accepted that he wasn’t going to get any closer to Sigma 5 by pursuing that course of action so there was no point in even considering it. Instead he simply tried to analyse the motives behind such a cover-up.

Clearly, Sigma 5 did not want the press to know about the rats’ involvement in McNish’s death - presumably because it did not want anyone making the connection between the GM experiment and the change in the rats’ behaviour – always assuming that there was a connection. The little niggling doubt came back again, the one that said that there was nothing at all wrong with the Agrigene crop: it was perfectly ordinary oilseed rape.

The actions of the opposition in all this however, were forcing him to consider that maybe there was something about the crop that he didn’t know, something that made the Agrigene oilseed rape different from all the other GM variants. Thinking along these lines made him conclude that he should have another talk with their technical manager, Phillip Grimble.

Steven was near enough to Peat Ridge Farm to act upon that thought immediately. He turned into the track leading up to the farm and as expected, was flagged down by security guards. He went through the ritual of showing his ID but this time he asked the one who was doing the phoning to find out if the Agrigene man as still there. He was.

‘
Well, Doctor, I trust you have come to tell me that the authorities have finally admitted their blunder. They’ve agreed to pay us large amounts of compensation and we can stop paying all these guards out there forthwith?’ said Ronald Lane by way of greeting.

‘
Not quite,’ said Steven. ‘That won’t be my decision I’m afraid. I’m just here to see fair play along the way. Actually I’d like a few words with Mr Grimble, if that’s possible?’