Crisis (46 page)

‘
I think I can help you there,’ said Bannerman. He
brought out Colin Turnbull’s survey charts from his
bag and said, ‘A young man named Colin Turnbull prepared these geological charts of the area. I think
they’ll help.’

‘I’m sure they will,’ said Morris. ‘I’ll pass them
on.’

‘When you’ve finished with them, see that they are
returned to Julie Turnbull; she’s the primary school
teacher in Stobmor. I think she’d appreciate knowing
what a help they’d been.’

‘I’ll see to it,’ said Morris.

‘What about Sproat and the vet, Finlay,’ asked
Bannerman.

‘It’s pretty much as you suspected,’ said Morris. They both knew about the chemical leak from the
quarry which happened about a year ago. Van Gelder
came clean at the time and bought their silence. He
had to, because the chemical killed the sheep nearest
to the leak outright. When the others developed a
form of
Scrapie
a year or so later and started dropping
like ninepins they suspected that the chemical had
been involved. Van Gelder bought them off again.
The new cars were a dead give-away.’

‘Bastards,’ said Bannerman. ‘That’s why the Sproats
sent May Buchan away on holiday. Conscience mon
ey.’

‘
Take a look at life again soon,’ said Morris.

‘Can I go now?’ asked Bannerman.

‘Not exactly,’ said Morris.

‘What does that mean?’ asked Bannerman.

‘
I have a message for you from Mr Allison. He says
that he would like to see you in London as soon as
possible.’

‘
I see,’ said Bannerman.

‘And one more thing, sir, he says to remind you
that you signed the Official Secrets Act and that
everything to do with this affair is covered by it.’

‘Why?’ snapped Bannerman angrily. ‘A bloody
Dutchman starts using Scotland as a dump for all
the world’s shit. A sheep virus starts killing people
and Whitehall wants to keep it an official secret!’

‘Best discuss that with Mr Allison, sir,’ said Mor
ris.

‘Something wrong?’ asked Shona, when Bannerman
emerged from his conversation with Morris.

‘I have to go to London,’ said Bannerman.

‘Have to?’ asked Shona.

‘I’m not running away,’ said Bannerman softly.
The establishment wants a word with me.’

‘And then what?’ asked Shona quietly.

Bannerman looked at Shona and said, ‘I feel as if I’m walking a tight-rope and I’m going to fall at any
moment.’

‘But the important question is, on which side?’

‘Come with me?’ said Bannerman, taking her into
his arms and resting his cheek against her hair.

Shona remained silent in his arms for a few
moments and then drew back again to smile and
shake her head. ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘I’m beginning
to miss my island. I’m going home.’

Bannerman nodded and said softly, ‘I’ll call you.’

Shona just smiled as she turned away. Take care,’
she whispered.

The taxi carrying Bannerman across London ground
to a halt in heavy traffic for the umpteenth time.
‘A bit busy today,’ smiled the driver.

Bannerman smiled at the blind optimism that
prevented the driver from seeing that it was like
this
every
day.
‘Park Crescent you said?’
‘The Medical Research Council.’
‘Doctor, are you then?’
‘A pathologist.’ ‘Like that, do you?’

Bannerman found himself lost for words. It was a
simple question but there seemed to be no simple
answer. ‘It’s a living,’ he smiled.

‘Just like me mate,’ said the driver. ‘Life begins
when you clock off.’

Bannerman ripped the driver well and returned his
wave as he drove off. He sighed as he looked at the
official Rover parked near the entrance to the MRC.
It was Allison’s car.

‘My dear Doctor Bannerman, how nice to see you,’
exclaimed Allison when Bannerman was shown in,’
He rose to shake Bannerman’s hand warmly. John
Flowers and Hugh Milne got up to do the same.

‘I can’t tell you how grateful we are to you for
clearing up this awful business,’ said Allison.

Flowers and Milne sat quietly while Allison con
ducted the proceedings. Bannerman watched the
government man’s eyes. The rest of him was ani
mated and exuding
bonhomie
but his eyes remained
cold and calculating.

‘I know it sounds strange in view of the terrible cir
cumstances up north but Her Majesty’s Government
is profoundly relieved.’
‘Relieved?’ exclaimed Bannerman in surprise.

‘
That the deaths had nothing to do with
natural
Scrapie.

‘Natural Scrapie?’
repeated Bannerman.

‘You know what I mean,’ said Allison, waving
his hands. ‘These poor men died from this mutant
monster thing that the chemical created.’

‘But nevertheless it was created, Mr Allison. There
is now a form of
Scrapie
which will infect people.’

‘But the government has seen to it that every
sheep on Inverladdie Farm has been slaughtered
and disposed of by incineration. There is no further
source of the agent.’

Bannerman was lost for words for a moment. He
couldn’t believe the aura of complacency about the
man. ‘But it’s what happened before we found out the truth that matters!’ he exclaimed.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that sheep carcasses were lying around
all over the place because Sproat was too mean to
dispose of them, and for God knows how long!’

‘
I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,’ said Allison
condescendingly.

‘One bird feeding off one infected carcass a few
weeks ago will by now have spread the virus to
another part of the countryside. Sooner or later a new flock will become infected and just maybe a
few infected lambs will make it to market before the
regulations step in. Then what happens?’

‘
I feel we are moving in to the realms of fantasy here
Doctor,’ said Allison. ‘You can’t seriously be suggest
ing that we quarantine every sheep in the land?’

‘I’m suggesting that you tighten up the regulations immediately. You make
Scrapie
a notifiable disease
and you offer compensation to farmers for infected
sheep at a level above market value so there will be
no “slipping through the net” before notification.’

‘If we do that then it will appear that something is
wrong,’ said Allison.

‘Something
is
wrong!’ insisted Bannerman.

Allison thumped his hands angrily on to the table.
‘No,’ he exclaimed. ‘This is over the top! You’ll be
suggesting next that we ban people from crossing the
road so that road accident figures will drop!’

Bannerman recognized Allison’s attempt at blus
tering to gain the initiative. He remained calm and
said. That is not the same thing and you know it.’

Allison changed tack. He suddenly became rea
sonable. ‘Look Doctor, we both know that very little
is known about the spread of
slow
virus infection.
A lot more research needs to be done. Her Majes
ty’s Government has agreed to fund an extensive
programme of research. The programme will be
administered by the Medical Research Council who
will set up a new board specifically for that purpose.
We would all be delighted if you would chair that
board.’

Bannerman felt as if he was being swept along by
a freak wave. He shook his head and looked down
at the table in silence.

‘At least think about it,’ said Allison, getting to
his feet.

Bannerman held up his hands arid said, ‘Not
so fast.’

The silence that ensued could have been cut with
a knife. ‘You have not said one word about the
business at the quarry,’ said Bannerman.

‘What’s there to say?’ asked Allison. ‘Thanks to
you we’ve been able to put a complete stop to
it.’

‘What about charges, Mr Allison? A foreign com
pany has been using our country as a dump for some of the most dangerous substances on earth and there
has not been one mention of it in the papers or on the
radio or on television. Why not?’

For the first time Allison displayed real vul
nerability. He sat down again slowly and Bannerman
noticed a small smile flicker across the lips of Flowers,
who had remained silent throughout.

‘Frankly Doctor, the government believes that it would be in the best interests of the people of this
country if the full extent of this outrage was not made
public. Don’t you agree?’

‘No, I do not!’ said Bannerman forcefully.

‘Doctor, you force me to remind you that …’

‘I signed the Official Secrets Act. Yes, I get the
picture and “D” notices will fly like confetti while you and your cronies conduct yet another cover-up
of what really goes on in this country!’

‘We have to do what we think best,’ said Allison.

‘Why Allison? Tell me that. There’s got to be more
to it than “the best interests of the people”. Just tell
me why?’

Allison laced the fingers of his hands together in
front of him and took a deep breath. Even then, there
was one false start before the words started to come
out. ‘The waste … the toxic chemicals …’

‘Yes?’

‘
They were British.’

‘British?’ exclaimed Bannerman in disbelief. He saw that Milne and Flowers had already been told
this.

‘The government awarded a disposal contract to a
Dutch company we believed to be reputable. As it
turns out they were not.’

Bannerman’s mouth fell open as he realized what
had been happening. ‘You mean that you were
loading it on to ships at one end of the country
and unloading it at the other? God, what
a farce! So to save your blushes, you hush it all up?’

‘
There’s more,’ said Allison, avoiding Bannerman’s
eyes. The chemicals were manufactured in this coun
try at a time which puts us in contravention of an international agreement banning such work. The
Dutch company knows this.’

‘My God,’ said Bannerman, shaking his head.

‘
The Russians broke the agreement, the Americans
too; everyone knows they did,’ said Allison.

Though it was never proved,’ said Bannerman.
‘But if you pursue the Dutch they’ll crucify you on
the world stage. Am I right?’

‘More or less.’

‘I need some fresh air,’ said Bannerman, getting to
his feet.

Flowers and Milne shrugged their embar
rassment at him.