Ken McClure - Crisis

One of the men flicked open an ID wallet and Bannerman saw the photograph and read the name.

‘I’m Inspector Morris. This is Sergeant West. We’re from Special Branch.’

‘What can I do for you?’ asked Bannerman, quite bemused.

‘We’d like you to come with us, sir,’ said Morris.

‘Am I being arrested?’ exclaimed Bannerman.

‘No, sir,’ replied Morris evenly. ‘We’d just like to ask you a few questions.’

‘About what?’

‘Later, sir.’

Bannerman shrugged his apologies to Shona. ‘When will I be back?’ he asked Morris.

‘Can’t say, sir.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Shona … ‘I’ll wait for you.’

Bannerman was shown out to an unmarked, dark green Austin Montego and ushered into the back. Morris got in beside him. West sat in the front passenger seat and said something to the driver — also in plain clothes — which Bannerman couldn’t quite catch. He felt that there would be no point in asking where they were going and assumed that it would be the police headquarters. He was surprised therefore when the car turned in through the west gate of the Royal Infirmary. Bang went his theory about it having something to do with the disappearance of Colin Turnbull’s body. The car drew to a halt and he was invited to get out.

Their footsteps echoed along the corridor that took them to Seminar Room eight. There was no mistaking that they were in a hospital. Even if he had been blindfolded, Bannerman would have recognized the distinctive smells of anaesthetic and disinfectant that pervaded hospitals the world over.

‘In here, sir,’ said West as he opened the door and stood back to allow Bannerman to enter.

There were three men inside. They were seated at a plain wooden table but got up when Bannerman entered.

‘Good of you to come Doctor. Please sit down.’

Bannerman remained standing. He said, ‘You know who I am but I’m afraid you have the advantage of me.’

The two men in suits looked at each other and then said, ‘I’m Jackman.’

‘And I’m Mildrew.’

Mildrew indicated to the white coated man on his left, This is Dr Mellon of the poisons bureau.’

‘Are you Special Branch too?’ asked Bannerman.

‘No we’re not,’ replied Jackman.

‘Then who are you?’ asked Bannerman.

‘I can vouch for these gentlemen, sir,’ said Morris, attempting to defuse the tension.

‘I want to know who they are,’ said Bannerman, evenly.

‘We are from the Ministry of Defence,’ said Jackman with an air of reluctance.

‘Special Branch and the Ministry of Defence,’ said Bannerman slowly. Then presumably this is not in connection with a parking offence?’

Mildrew ignored the comment and said, ‘You are Ian Bannerman, consultant pathologist at St Luke’s Hospital in London?’

‘Correct.’

‘Last night you brought in a sample of sheep brain to the Poisons Reference Bureau and requested toxic analysis on it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where did you get it?’

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Surely it’s a reasonable question, Doctor,’ said Jackman.

‘So is mine,’ said Bannerman.

‘Frankly, Doctor, I think I should warn you that if you continue to be obstructive you could be in very serious trouble,’ said Mildrew.

‘What did they find in the sheep brain?’ asked Bannerman. They did find something, didn’t they? That’s what this is all about.’

‘Where did you get it?’

The impasse continued in silence for a few moments before Bannerman said, ‘I’d like to make a telephone call.’

‘Do you think you need a lawyer, Doctor?’ asked Jackman.

‘I’m not calling one,’ said Bannerman. ‘I would like to speak to Mr Cecil Allison of the Prime Minister’s office.’

The Prime Minister’s office?’ repeated Jackman. ‘What do you have to do with the Prime Minister’s office?’

‘I’ve been carrying out an investigation on behalf of the Medical Research Council in conjunction with the PM’s office,’ replied Bannerman.

Mildrew and Jackman looked at each other and then at Morris who shrugged his shoulders. ‘We were unaware of this,’ said Jackman. There seems to have been a breakdown in communications somewhere.’ His look to Morris indicated where he thought it lay. ‘Perhaps Inspector Morris will place the call for you.’

Morris moved to an adjoining room and returned a few moments later to say to Bannerman, ‘Mr Allison is on the line, sir.’

Bannerman closed the door behind him and picked up the receiver.

‘I understand you are in a spot of bother, Doctor,’ said Allison.

Bannerman never thought he would be pleased to hear the sound of Allison’s voice, but he was. He told him about the sheep brain and about his having requested a chemical toxin analysis on it.

‘But what did they find?’ asked Allison. ‘What’s all the fuss about?’

‘They won’t tell me and I won’t tell them where I found it, so we’re sitting here, looking at each other.’

‘Perhaps I should speak to them,’ suggested. Allison.

‘I’d be grateful.’

Mildrew spoke to Allison in private, then returned to the room and indicated to Bannerman that Allison wanted to speak to him again.

‘Bannerman, I suggest that you cooperate fully with Mr Mildrew and his colleagues,’ said Allison.

‘Without question?’ said Bannerman.

‘Yes.’

‘No way,’ said Bannerman, flatly. ‘I’ve not come this far to be fobbed off like this. I want to know what was in the sample.’

‘I thought you’d say that,’ said Allison. ‘I warned Mildrew you might. Mr Mildrew is prepared to tell you more but first you will have to sign the Official Secrets Act.’

‘Ye gods! What next,’ exclaimed Bannerman.

‘If you lab boffins had got this right in the first instance, none of this would have been necessary,’ said Allison and put down the phone abruptly.

‘Well thanks a lot,’ said Bannerman to the dialling tone.

‘Sign where I’ve marked it,’ said Jackman, handing Bannerman a copy of the Official Secrets Act.

Bannerman signed without comment and pushed the form to one side.

The brain sample you presented last night contained traces of a chemical called NYLIT,’ said Mildrew.

‘Nylit,’ repeated Bannerman. ‘Never heard of it.’

‘We would have been surprised if you had.’

‘Where does it come from?’

‘This is the cause of our interest, Doctor,’ said Mildrew. ‘NYLIT is not a by-product of any chemical process, as so many toxins are. It was a specific component of a biological weapon developed in 19 … some time ago.’

‘A weapon?’ exclaimed Bannerman.

‘It was one of a chain of compounds developed by our defence establishment.’

‘And it’s a powerful mutagen?’

‘Among other things, yes.’

‘So how the hell did it get into a sheep in the north of Scotland?’

‘That’s what we intend finding out, Doctor, with your help of course.’

‘I’ll give you all the information I have,’ said Bannerman.

It was after ten in the evening before Bannerman got back to the hotel. He was exhausted, having told Mildrew and Jackson every single detail he could remember about the investigation in Achnagelloch and Stobmor.

‘I’ve been so worried,’ said Shona. ‘What did they want?’

‘The sheep were exposed to a powerful mutagen,’ said Bannerman.

‘Where did it come from?’

‘We don’t know, but the best guess at the moment is that some canister was washed up on the beach at Inverladdie and through time it leaked and contaminated the ground. Grazing sheep which were incubating the Scrapie virus at the time were affected by it, and the rest you know.’