‘’So what do you really think Trish has got herself mixed up in?’ asked Eve.
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Steven confessed. ‘She may not be directly involved in anything herself but she certainly knows something about what’s going on and I think she told the authorities about it after making some kind of deal with them.’
‘So if the authorities know about this, how come you don’t? You’re one of them, aren’t you? Right hand doesn’t know what the left is doing?’
‘More serious than that. There’s some kind of conspiracy going on, something I’m not party to.’
‘A conspiracy to do what?’ asked Eve.
‘In the beginning, I thought it was a straightforward industrial espionage thing; one biotech company setting out to discredit another through rumour and innuendo about their experimental crop, hoping perhaps to get their license revoked, but I was wrong. It’s something much bigger although it’s still tied up in some way with the crop in the fields at Peat Ridge.’
‘A conspiracy involving the government and all over a couple of fields of oilseed rape?’ said Eve doubtfully.
‘Genetically modified oilseed rape,’ Steven reminded her.
‘Oh yes,’ said Eve thoughtfully. ‘We mustn’t forget the big bad ‘G’ word. The minute you mention that, people start running for the hills. Frankly, from what I’ve seen of ‘government’ in Blackbridge, these people would be hard pushed in conspiring to cross the road safely.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with the people at the hotel,’ said Steven. ‘They’re small bit-players. This is something way out of their league.’
Eve looked puzzled. ‘You know, I still can’t see it,’ she said. ‘You’re going to have to do better than that if you want me to betray my friend.’
Steven topped up her glass while he pondered a decision about how to proceed, then he made it and said quietly, ‘The rats’ behaviour has been changing around Blackbridge.’
Eve looked at him questioningly then her eyes widened a little as shock arrived with the realisation of what he was implying. ‘The rats in the canal!’ she exclaimed, then looked about her to see if anyone had overheard. She lowered her voice. ‘And you think it has something to do with the genetic changes made to the crop?’
‘Don’t get me wrong; I don’t see how that can possibly be but the continued attempts to have it discredited and destroyed suggests that someone knows more about it than I do.’
‘God, this is awful!’ exclaimed Eve in a hoarse whisper. ‘It never occurred to me to think… I mean… apart from anything else this could mean that my brother died because of it! That rat might not have bitten him otherwise.’
‘Steven nodded and agreed, ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘but that’s possible.’ He now had Eve’s full attention. ‘McNish didn’t drown,’ he continued. ‘The rats got him first. They severed his carotid artery. The story about him drowning was a fabrication.’
Eve grimaced and said, ‘Oh my God, I don’t think I know what to say. What is it that you want me to do exactly?’ she asked.
‘I need to know what Trish Rafferty knows about the vendetta against Peat Ridge Farm. I think it might be tied up in some way with the reason she left her husband, so try picking away at that. You might also ask her about the two men staying at Crawhill Farm, Rafferty’s so-called business advisors. They’re not. They’re part of the plot too.’
‘I’ll call her in the morning,’ said Eve. ‘I’ll suggest we meet up for a bit of a girls’ night out. How much can I tell her?’
‘Nothing. You must play the innocent; you’re just a friend concerned for her welfare. If she suspects for a moment that you’ve been put up to it, she’ll clam up and say nothing, I’m sure of it. Don’t say anything to anyone else either,’ said Steven. ‘If the local yobs get wind of any connection between the Peat Ridge experiment and the rats’ behaviour they’ll use it as an excuse to make big trouble and someone could get badly hurt.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ said Eve.
Steven thanked her. He picked up the sweet menu. ‘What takes your fancy?’ he asked.
‘I think I’ve just lost my appetite,’ said Eve.
They both settled for just coffee. Eve was now very subdued although she did her best to respond to Steven’s attempts at lightening the conversation and smiled in all the right places. He, for his part, knew that she was brooding about her brother. It was inevitable but he could think of nothing reassuring to say in the circumstances.
It was raining quite heavily when they left the restaurant but Eve declined Steven’s offer that she should wait in the dry while he went to pick up the car and bring it round. Instead they both ran through the puddles. Steven reached out his hand and Eve took it. It was a nice moment and helped dispel the cloud that had settled over Eve. Halfway home however, she said, ‘You know, I can’t see how oilseed rape, GM or otherwise, could have caused a behavioural change in the rats. A change in the weed-killers they’re using on the fields would be a much better bet for something like that.’
‘My thoughts too,’ said Steven with a smile. ‘That’s always been the big worry about this kind of trial. No one really knows what effects a sudden change to the use of powerful weedkillers would have on the environment.’
‘You know, it would be a good idea to check out the rats for traces of chemicals in their bodies,’ said Eve.
‘It’s in hand,’ smiled Steven.
Eve looked at him sideways and smiled. ‘Of course it is,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. Now I feel stupid. That was probably the first thing you did.’
‘You’re a very long way from being stupid, Eve,’ said Steven. ‘Keep thinking about it. We’d welcome your input.’
‘We? I thought you worked alone.’
Steven told her about James Binnie’s involvement.
‘Nice man,’ said Eve.
Steven pulled up outside Eve’s parents’ house. ‘I’ll need your phone number,’ she said. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I’ve had a chance to talk to Trish.’
Steven wrote it down on the piece of paper that Eve tore from a small notebook in her handbag. ‘Thank you for a nice evening,’ she said.
‘Maybe we could do it again?’ suggested Steven.
Eve looked at him for a long searching moment before saying simply, ‘Maybe.’ Without warning she leaned over and kissed him full on the lips and ran her fingers softly down his cheek. Steven was surprised but did not draw away. Eve sat back and looked into his eyes. ‘I hope that’s guilt I see and not revulsion,’ she said.
‘Definitely not revulsion,’ Steven assured her.
‘Good Night.’
FIFTEEN
It was a little after midnight when Steven got back to his new hotel but he still found room in the car park round the back. He supposed that some guests had been put off by the narrow potholed lane leading through to it so they had left their cars out in the street instead — probably hoping to be away in the morning before the traffic wardens were up and about. Steven parked his car with the front bumper hard up against the back wall of the hotel, making it well nigh impossible for anyone to open the bonnet.
Despite the rain, he still took time to look around for a number of small stones and positioned them at strategic intervals round the car so that anyone crawling underneath the vehicle would be sure to disturb the pattern he’d made. He didn’t really think an attack on this car was likely; it was more a case of being better safe than sorry.
On the way back round to the front of the hotel, he took a good look at the building itself, noting the position of his room window in relation to what was near it in the way of pipes and guttering — routine insurance against circumstances dictating that he might have to get out in a hurry. Once inside his room he locked the door and wedged the foot of it with a cheap ballpoint pen — insurance against the opposition gaining access with a key. He turned out the light and looked out on the rain swept streets, pleased to see that the windows were double-glazed. It was well nigh impossible to throw anything through a double glazed window. He closed the curtains and switched on the bedside light before taking off his jacket and removing his holster, which he hung over the single chair in the room. The gun itself, he took out put on the bedside table. ‘And you’re the one who hates melodrama,’ he murmured to himself.