Ken McClure - Pandora's Helix

Any response from Pereira or Kate was cut short by a knock at the door. Ann Miles said, “Miss Sayers is here, Doctor.”

The three of them exchanged looks of total disbelief.

Pereira shook his head and said, “She’s got neck, I’ll give her that.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Kate.

“I don’t think I do either,” said Neef.

Kate and Pereira got up to go. Kate led Pereira out through the door that led into the unit rather than have them meet Eve in Ann Miles’ office. “We’ll be in the duty room,” she said.

A few moments later, Eve stood in the doorway. “Can I come in?” she asked.

“I’m not sure we have anything to say to each other,” said Neef. His features would have made the sphinx seem animated.

“So little faith, Neef?” asked Eve.

Neef saw that her gaze was level and unyielding. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t write the story.”

Neef’s face was a picture of disbelief. “Sure,” he said.

“I did not write the story,” repeated Eve slowly in an unvarying monotone.

Neef said, “Only three people knew about the Langholm address connection.”

“Someone else must have,” said Eve.

“Did you get the job?” asked Neef.

“I didn’t take it.”

“Why not?”

“They showed me the story they were going to do about Menogen and asked if I would do the follow-ups. I refused.”

“You refused?”

“I told them I thought the Menogen story was irresponsible journalism. They were going to destroy a company’s reputation without having any evidence against them at all. They showed me the door.”

“Why didn’t you call last night?”

Eve said, “It was late when I got back and my damned phone was out of order. I was feeling so low I didn’t have the heart to go out to a call box. I took a sleeping pill and went to bed.”

“Christ! What a day,” said Neef slumping back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

“Can I go and see Neil now?” asked Eve.

“No, I’d rather you didn’t,” said Neef.

Eve looked suddenly vulnerable, as if he’d struck her. “You’re not going to stop me seeing him?”

“Nothing like that,” said Neef. “He’s just been injected with Menogen virus.”

“You got permission?” asked Eve, her whole expression changing.

“Yes... and, no,” replied Neef. He told Eve what he’d done.

“You injected him without a license?” exclaimed Eve, “but you said you’d never do that.”

“I said I couldn’t do it without the proposal being screened by experts. It was screened by them and approved. That was good enough for me. The ban was invoked by politicians in response to your... the story in the papers. That wasn’t good enough for me, or Neil.”

“Thank God,” said Eve.

“Max Pereira is out in the duty room with Kate Morse. They both think you wrote the story. This morning Kate thought Pereira had killed her husband. I think Max believes he’ll never work again.”

Eve closed her eyes. “What can I say,” she said.

“Nothing,” said Neef. “If you didn’t write the story.”

Neef made Eve wait while he summoned Pereira back into the room. Kate Morse had gone off to deal with some problem in the unit.

Pereira looked at Eve as if she was a curious, alien life form.

“She didn’t write the story,” said Neef.

“And I’m playing quarterback for the Giants next season,” said Pereira softly.

“I’m serious,” said Neef.

“I didn’t write it,” said Eve. “I knew it was going in; they asked me to do the follow-up but I did not write the story that appeared in the paper this morning.”

“Then who did? How many closet journalists do you have on the staff in this goddam hospital?” asked Pereira.

“They didn’t get the story from a journalist,” said Eve. “Or they wouldn’t have asked me to carry on with it. An insider gave them the information and an Express staffer wrote it up.”

“So, who on the staff would want to put out a story like that?” said Neef, thinking out loud.

“And why?” added Pereira.

“Tim Heaton is always looking for press attention,” said Neef. “But this wouldn’t make sense. The story isn’t going to do St George’s any good at all. The Louradis article on gene therapy has already associated St George’s with Menogen in the public mind. This is going to be as damaging to us as it is to Menogen.”

“But maybe not so costly,” said Pereira. “You don’t think it could have been Louradis himself do you?”

“But why?” asked Neef.

“He called me up to ask a few things when he was writing his ‘plain man’s guide to gene therapy’ article. The man obviously craves press attention. He struck me as the kind who’d say anything to stay in the limelight.”

“I don’t think he knew about Melanie living next to Menogen,” said Neef. “Apart from that it’s hard to see how this story would help Louradis in his quest for stardom.”

“So we’re still looking for a motive,” said Eve. “Maybe someone wanted to seriously damage Menogen. Did you upset anyone that much, Max?”

Pereira shrugged.

“Or maybe it was some kind of deliberate diversion,” said Neef. He was thinking of Heaton’s tactics in the past of using a good news story to counteract the damage caused by bad publicity.

“But a diversion from what?” said Eve.

“That’s what we have to work out,” said Neef. “Let’s take it one step at a time. If someone wants Menogen blamed for the cancer outbreak it might just be that that same someone knows the real reason behind it and wants it covered up.”

“But no one has even thought of an alternative possibility, have they?” asked Eve.

“No,” admitted Neef.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could find out from the newspaper who gave them the story?” Pereira asked Eve.

Eve shook her head and said, “None at all. They’ll protect their source. Apart from that, we didn’t exactly finish up on good terms.”

“Why don’t we have a think about this and meet again tomorrow?” suggested Neef, looking at his watch. “We’ll be doing Thomas Downy’s last scan in the morning. You’ll probably want to be here for that anyway Max?”

“Yeah,” replied Pereira. “I’m looking forward to that.” He got up to go.

“What are your plans Eve?” asked Neef as the door closed.

“Right now I’m going down to Sutton Place. It’s my guess that this morning’s story will have forced the hand of Messrs Klein and Waters. They’re going to have to make some kind of press statement. I plan to make it an uncomfortable experience for them.”

“Good for you,” said Neef. “Will I see you later?”

“If you like.”

They arranged that Eve would come over to Neef’s cottage when she had finished writing up her piece for the Citizen.

Tim Heaton called shortly after four. He was not in a good mood.

“I’ve spent all bloody day trying to get sense out of these ministry people and I’ve failed. They admit that they were not investigating Menogen Research before the newspaper story broke but they refuse to kill the story. It’s as if they want the public to believe it!”

“It takes the heat off them,” said Neef.

“But St George’s is associated with Menogen!” exclaimed Heaton. “Just as we were about to capitalise on Mr Louradis’ groundwork and go public with our St George’s cancer cure success this has to happen! It’s all gone sour. University College Hospital Trust will think we’re a laughing stock. What GP fund holders in their right minds will refer patients to us now when we’re associated with a discredited company like Menogen?”