Ken McClure - Wildcard

‘They needed a particular kind of nurse. Maureen and the other woman had both trained as fever nurses, and apparently fever nurses are like gold dust these days. They said it was very important.’

‘Were the nurses told what was wrong with these people?’ asked Steven.

‘Not exactly, just that they should take every precaution in dealing with them.’

‘But why would anyone in their right mind take on such a job?’ asked Steven.

Williams looked at the floor and said almost inaudibly, ‘Three thousand pounds each, that’s why.’

It was Steven’s turn to be surprised. He let out a low whistle. ‘And part of the deal was that they didn’t say anything about it?’

Williams nodded.

‘Who were these Americans?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘How did they pay?’

‘Cash in advance.’

‘Where were the patients?’

‘Somewhere up in the hills behind Capel Curig. They weren’t supposed to tell anyone, but Maureen told me that much.’

Steven looked silently at Williams for a moment, and the man put his hands to his eyes and began to sob. ‘I’m going to lose her,’ he said. ‘I never thought for one minute that anything like this would happen. We were going to use the money to visit Malcolm and his wife in Australia. It’s ten years since we last saw them.’

‘There’s still hope,’ said Steven softly. He had got what he wanted, so there was no need to play the hard man any more and he felt for the man. There was every chance that the welcome addition of cash to the Williams household was going to pay for his wife’s funeral. ‘Did Maureen say anything at all about the patients she nursed?’ he asked.

Williams shook his head. ‘She told me not to ask.’

‘This other woman. Was her name Mair Jones, by any chance?’ asked Steven.

Williams nodded. ‘That’s her. She went off to Majorca. I think she was scared she was going to get the virus, too. She wanted to have a last fling in the sun in case it happened.’

Just in case, thought Steven.

‘Cup of tea?’ asked Williams.

‘Please.’

When he returned to his car Steven called the duty man at Sci-Med and told him about Mair Jones. He wanted her found in Majorca and brought back to the UK as soon as possible.

‘On what grounds?’

‘She has vital information about the virus epidemic. Pull out all the stops and get her back here under any pretext you like — get Special Branch to go out there and kidnap her, if necessary.’

‘Would you like to have a word with Mr Macmillan?’

‘He’s there?’ exclaimed Steven, automatically looking at his watch and seeing that it was after two-thirty.

‘Been here all night.’

Macmillan came on the line. ‘Dunbar, where are you?’

‘I’m in Wales. You’re up late.’

‘There was a long meeting of the national emergency committee. We couldn’t agree, so we’re still holding off.’

‘Good,’ said Steven. ‘Maureen Williams isn’t a wildcard, she’s a contact.’

‘You know how she got it?’ exclaimed Macmillan.

‘Just that she got it from someone else. It’s all a bit complicated at the moment.’ He told Macmillan what he’d learned and about the need to find Mair Jones.

‘I think the Home Secretary’s still in the building,’ said Macmillan. ‘I’ll have a word and impress on him the importance of finding her.’

‘Good.’

‘What will you do in the meantime?’

‘Go back to the hospital in the morning and see if Mrs Williams regains consciousness.’

Steven opted to drive into Bangor rather than return to Caernarfon. He thought his chances of finding a hotel open in the early hours of the morning might be better in a bigger place, and so it proved. There was no chance of getting anything to eat, but at least he found a bed for what remained of the night and a bathroom with hot running water. There was an electric kettle in the room, with sachets of tea, coffee, sugar and whitener and, thankfully, a few biscuits. He had a warm bath, then dined on instant coffee and digestive biscuits. Luckily he was so tired that he fell asleep quickly, putting his hunger on hold until the morning.

The consultant in charge of the special unit at Caernarfon General, Dr Charles Runcie, had been made aware of Steven’s interest in the case. He smiled and offered his hand. ‘I don’t think I can tell you any more than my houseman, Roger Morton, did last night,’ he said.

‘But I can tell you something,’ said Steven. He told Runcie of his success in establishing that Maureen Williams was no wildcard case.

‘A nursing job!’ exclaimed Runcie. ‘So what in God’s name happened to her patients?’

‘That’s what we have to find out,’ said Steven. ‘They’re trying to trace Mair Jones at the moment. I don’t suppose she ever came here in person?’

The consultant shook his head and said, ‘I think not. There would have been no point. We would only have given out information to relatives.’

‘What are the chances of getting any information out of Mrs Williams?’

‘Slim,’ replied Runcie. ‘Frankly, I don’t think she’s going to last beyond-’

There was a commotion outside, then the door burst open and they saw a harassed-looking woman trying to restrain another woman.

‘I’m sorry, Dr Runcie, but this woman insists on seeing Mrs Williams. She seems to think she knows something about her husband’s disappearance.’

‘I’m afraid Mrs Williams cannot receive visitors because of her condition,’ said Runcie calmly. He got up from his chair. ‘Mrs…?’

‘Doig, Karen Doig. I’m sorry to burst in like this, but there seemed to be no other way. We’ve been trying to see Mrs Williams for the past two days, and I’m at my wits’ end — we’re both at our wits’ end,’ she added. She gestured at a man who, looking slightly embarrassed, was hovering in the background. ‘This is Ian Patterson. His wife, Amy, and my husband, Peter, have disappeared from a company field station near Capel Curig where they were working, and Mrs Williams knows something about it.’

Runcie looked at Steven and said, ‘I’m sorry, the world seems to have gone mad this morning.’

Steven’s bemused detachment had changed when he heard Capel Curig being mentioned. He ignored Runcie’s apology and asked, ‘What kind of field station?’

It was Runcie’s turn to look bemused. He turned to his secretary, who was smoothing herself down, and said, ‘Claire, do you think you could bring us all some coffee?’

‘Peter and Amy both work for a company called Lehman Genomics, just outside Edinburgh,’ explained Karen. ‘They were sent down to the company’s field station here in Wales, and now both of them have disappeared. The company claims that they ran off together, but we won’t accept that until we have more than Lehman’s word for it. We came to find out for ourselves.’

‘Where does Mrs Williams come into it?’ asked Steven.

‘She was one of a party of four people who stopped in Capel Curig about twelve days ago and asked for directions to the field station. There were two American men and two local women — one was Mrs Williams. We’ve been able to establish that at least one of the men worked for Lehman, but the company denied all knowledge of this when we phoned them earlier.’

Steven was beginning to feel that his luck had turned. ‘Mrs Doig,’ he said, ‘you don’t realise it but you’ve done your country a great service by coming here this morning.’

Karen was not the only one to look puzzled, but Steven was already on the phone to Sci-Med. ‘I need to know everything about Lehman Genomics’ was his request.

Runcie asked to be excused, but said Steven was welcome to use his office for as long as necessary. Steven questioned Karen and Ian Patterson closely for the next thirty minutes, trying to establish whether there was a connection between the company and the virus outbreak. He didn’t say as much, but it was clear that Peter Doig and Amy Patterson were the two patients Maureen Williams and Mair Jones had been recruited to nurse.