The Gulf Conspiracy (25 page)

Crowe agreed that he had.

‘
Everley called me today,’ said Mowbray. ‘He’s getting suspicious.’

‘
What about?’

‘
He was complaining that the local Tories are not taking him seriously enough when he tells them that there’s going to be a radical change in public opinion coming soon. He thinks they’re not doing enough to benefit from it.’

‘
Well spotted, Rupert,’ said Crowe under his breath.

‘
What are the arrangements for pay day?’ asked Mowbray.

‘
Half the money will be paid into our Zurich accounts when the papers start carrying stories of a strange illness, the other half when it reaches epidemic proportions and general disaffection breaks out.’

‘
What happens when Rupert finds out he can’t capitalise on it?’

‘
He’ll have to come to terms with it,’ said Mowbray. ‘He’s no stranger to failure and he can hardly go and complain to the authorities.’

‘
Suppose not,’ agreed Crowe.

Mowbray’s mobile phone rang and he answered it. Crowe heard immediately that something was wrong from the stream of anxious questions that Mowbray started asking. ‘What’s up?’ he asked as Mowbray ended the call.

‘
Pull the car over,’ said Mowbray.

‘
We’re on a motorway.’

‘
Just stop the car.’

Crowe pulled off on to the hard shoulder and turned off the engine. ‘What is it, for God’s sake?’

‘
Two of my agents are being held by the Leicester Police. I sent them to deal with Sebring’s wife. I didn’t want her shooting her mouth off to the papers. Apparently Dunbar was with her when they arrived. He outwitted them and called the police.’

‘
Bloody hell,’ said Crowe. ‘What the hell do we do now?’

‘
Keep our nerve,’ said Mowbray. ‘I think we can still brass this out but we must keep our nerve. ‘Is there anything left in your lab to link you with the agent?’

‘
No, I went to great pains to clear everything out.’

‘
So they can’t prove anything,’ said Mowbray. ‘Work on the agent still stopped back in ’91. The accident with the vaccine had to be kept a secret for the sake of the government and national security. If we stick to that line they can’t touch us. Agreed?’

‘
Agreed,’ said Crowe.

‘
But be warned . . . they’re going to try.’

Crowe glanced in his rear-view mirror and said, ‘Shit! It’s the police.’

The traffic patrol car pulled off the carriageway and stopped in front of Crowe’s car at an angle. Two officers got out and Crowe wound down his window.

‘
Problems, gentlemen? asked the police driver.’

‘
Not really, Officer,’ replied Crowe as pleasantly as his nerves would permit. ‘I took a spot of cramp in my right leg. I thought it safest to stop and stretch for a couple of minutes. I was just about to drive off again when you chaps appeared.’

‘
Then we won’t detain you any longer, sir,’ said the officer with a smile.

Steven stayed the night with Jane in the Kensington flat that Rose Roberts had arranged as safe accommodation. Neither of them slept much - Jane because she was struggling to come to terms with all that had happened and Steven because he wasn’t at all sure who he could trust any more. Every sound in the night had his eyes moving to the gun that hung in its holster on the end of the bed. Never had the dawn of a new day been more welcome.

Breakfast was a silent affair punctuated with smiles of encouragement, with both of them opting for just juice and coffee although the cupboards in the kitchen and the fridge had been well stocked with just about anything they might have fancied.

‘
I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ said Steven as he prepared to leave for the Home Office, holding Jane close and hugging her.

‘
Take as long as you like,’ said Jane with a brave attempt at a smile. ‘Just sort this mess out.’

‘
Don’t ans-’

Jane held up her hands and said, ‘I think I’ve got the picture. Believe me, I have got the picture.’

Macmillan grimaced as Steven pushed the two IDs across his desk. ‘God, this is hard to believe,’ he said.

Steven followed up with the two automatic pistols he’d taken from the men at Jane’s house. He’d put them in plastic bags. ‘I’d put money on one of them having been used on Michael D’Arcy,’ he said.

‘
I’m going to have to take this right to the top,’ said Macmillan. ‘I can’t believe any of this had government sanction. These two must have been pursuing their own agenda.’

‘
The one I spoke to behaved as though he were doing his job,’ said Steven. ‘He had the confidence that comes with the ID.’

‘
Which could mean that the problem might be further up the chain,’ said Macmillan. ‘Not a happy thought.’

‘
It’s all beginning to sound a bit like the situation at Porton,’ said Steven. ‘Everyone’s assuming that everything has official backing.’

‘
I’ve been making some progress there,’ said Macmillan. ‘My source has come up with a name behind the Beta Team budget. He’s Sir James Gardiner.’

Steven shook his head and said, ‘Doesn’t mean much I’m afraid.’

‘
Right-wing Tory, had his day in the Eighties, very influential. It turns out it was he who resurrected the budget for the experimental team at Porton Down and also instituted the accounting measures necessary to keep it out of the way of prying eyes.’

‘
And recruited for it?’ asked Steven.

‘
My man didn’t know that but presumably Gardiner had some purpose in mind when he set about putting the funds in place. Whether he had official sanction for it or not is a bit more problematical. It seems that Gardiner was involved in setting up a right-wing think-tank at the time - something he did with a man named Warner, Colonel Peter Warner, and a few others we don’t know too much about although rumour had it that Rupert Everley, the property magnate, was supplying the financial wherewithal for the group.’

‘
Then they weren’t short of a bob or two,’ said Steven. ‘What did they get up to exactly?’

‘
Apart from feeding rumour and innuendo about Labour politicians to the media and generally underpinning right-wing causes, we don’t know too much about them,’ said Macmillan. ‘There were suggestions about links with the National Front but then there always are about groups like that. There was nothing ever concrete. It could even have been the other side’s rumour machine having a go at them.’

‘
If Donald Crowe was the leader of the Beta team at Porton maybe he was one of them?’ said Steven.

‘
You may well be right,’ said Macmillan.

‘
George Sebring and Michael D’Arcy were definitely under the impression that they were working for the government during their time there,’ said Steven. ‘Maybe these two . . .’ Steven reached over for the two ID cards to examine the names. ‘Are under a similar sort of delusion?’

Macmillan thought for a moment before saying, ‘I’m going to the Home Secretary with this. We can’t risk aiming any lower.’

‘
Let’s hope he’s not a pal of Gardiner’s too,’ said Steven.

‘
Wrong party,’ said Macmillan.

‘
Bit hard to tell them apart these days,’ said Steven.

‘
But as a priority, I’m going to have him ask the Leicester Police to hold on to these two until we at least know where their instructions came from?’

‘
Good,’ said Steven.

Macmillan clicked on the intercom and asked Rose Roberts to set up an urgent call to the Home Secretary ‘What will you do in the meantime?’ he asked Steven.

‘
Did Rose have any success coming up with a molecular biologist?’

‘
Macmillan opened his desk drawer and took out a small card, which he slid across to Steven, saying, ‘Professor William Rees of the Medical Research Council’s Laboratory of Molecular Biology at Cambridge is expecting your call. He’ll actually be in London today and tomorrow at the MRC’s head office in Park Crescent. He said that it would be all right if you wanted to speak to him there.’

‘
That might save some time,’ said Steven. ‘I’ll call him and see if I can fix something up for this afternoon.’

‘
Why don’t we meet back here later and exchange notes?’ asked Macmillan.

Steven agreed. They settled on 6pm.

Steven set up a meeting with Rees for 2pm that afternoon and then went back to the safe house to check on Jane, using a bus and two taxis in a roundabout route just in case he was being followed. He didn’t think he would be but where Jane’s safety was concerned he didn’t intend taking any chances. He told her about Macmillan going to the Home Secretary.

‘
I still can’t believe this is happening,’ said Jane. ‘It’s as if everything I’ve ever believed in has been swept away and I’m floating around in a sea of suspicion.’

‘
I’m sorry,’ whispered Steven, gathering her in his arms. ‘I know what you’re going through.’

‘
Do you?’ challenged Jane. ‘Do you really?’

‘
Yes,’ said Steven. ‘I felt exactly the same way the first time I crossed swords with the establishment and realised what they were capable of. The world suddenly stopped being black and white. The clear distinctions I’d imagined existed between right and wrong, good and evil became blurred and everything was etched in shades of grey.’

‘
So how do you cope?’

‘
I support the lighter shades,’ smiled Steven. ‘I try to do what I believe to be right - that’s a much more difficult thing to do than you might imagine. The right thing to do is not always the wise thing, the safe thing or even the legal thing. It can be a hard road to travel.’

‘
If you say so,’ said Jane. ‘What happens now?’

‘
I’m going to talk to a scientist this afternoon about how we can identify the agent your husband and Michael D’Arcy were working on and then I’m seeing Macmillan again at the Home Office to find out what’s happening.’

‘
In the meantime I will thrill to the magic of daytime television,’ said Jane.

‘
It won’t be for long,’ said Steven.

‘
Better not be,’ said Jane. ‘If it comes to a choice between a bullet in the head and watching
Countdown
, it’s going to be a pretty close-run thing.’

Steven smiled and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’d best be off.’

Steven was shown into one of the committee rooms at the headquarters of the Medical Research Council and offered coffee while he waited. He declined and took a seat at the long, polished wooden table, surrounded by portraits of past secretaries of the council looking down at him from the walls. Not the happiest looking bunch of people, he concluded in the silence before turning his attention to an assortment of periodicals lined up on a shelf next to the period fireplace. Predictably, they were either scientific or medical. He flicked through the pages of
Nature
and
Molecular Microbiology
before the door opened and a short, stocky man with wiry dark hair and wearing a tweed jacket entered. His first utterance betrayed the fact he was Welsh.

‘
I’m Rees, sorry I’m late.’

‘
Not at all, I’m grateful to you for seeing me at such short notice,’ said Steven.

‘
I never put off till tomorrow what I can do today,’ said Rees. ‘Unlike some of them round here who make a career out of “asking for clarification” and “deferring decisions” in the hope that the question will go away if they sit on the bloody fence for long enough.’

‘
Sounds like you’ve been asking for funds,’ said Steven with a smile.

‘
For a new unit,’ said Rees.

‘
A lot then,’ said Steven.

‘
The Americans will be conducting field trials by the time we lay the foundation stone,’ said Rees. ‘Some things never change.’ He shook his head and looked down at the floor for a moment before appearing to remember why he was there and breaking into a smile, saying, ‘I’m sorry; excuse my rudeness. What can I do for you?’

Steven explained the problem.

‘
Well, we certainly don’t need to sequence the entire genomes of these things,’ said Rees.

‘
That’s a relief,’ said Steven.

‘
The fact that you suspect that the foreign genes might come from the HIV virus means that we can construct probes and check for any homology in the host DNA.’

‘
Is that a big job?’ asked Steven.

‘
It’s no walk in the park,’ replied Rees, ‘but nothing like sequencing the entire chromosome would be: that’s a non-starter. You say you have three dozen of these cultures?’

‘
All normal body commensals according to the man who isolated them,’ said Steven. ‘No pathogens.’

‘
This man’s a doctor?’ asked Rees.

‘
A medical technician,’ said Steven.

‘
Maybe I could have a look at the list?’ said Rees. ‘It would be nice to narrow the field down if at all possible.’

‘
I thought you might want to see it,’ said Steven. ‘I’ve brought it with me on disk.’

‘
Excellent,’ said Rees. ‘I have my laptop here. Let’s have a look, shall we?’