During the course of the day, Neef was to discover what this meant. Lennon called to say that he was no longer in charge of the investigation. A team of specialists had arrived from the Ministry of Health to take charge. They counted among their number a scientist from Porton Down, the government’s chemical and biological defence establishment.
“They’ve also removed Charles Morse’s body,” said Lennon. “They want to carry out their own pathological investigation”
“Can they do that?” asked Neef.
“Under their terms of reference, they can do pretty much what they damn well please,” said Lennon. “They’ve virtually taken over everything down here at Sutton Place and put an immediate ban on all Press briefings. I dare say you’ll be meeting them soon enough. A man named Klein is in charge.”
Two hours later Ann Miles announced that Drs Klein and Waters were outside.
“Send them in.”
Klein, a tall thin man with a prominent Adam’s apple that bobbed disconcertingly above a stiff Bombay-stripe shirt collar, appeared first and held out his hand. “John Klein.” He came across as being neither friendly nor rude, just business-like. His companion, a head shorter, with sloping shoulders and a downturn to the left side of his mouth that suggested a slight stroke in the recent past, introduced himself as Malcolm Waters. Neither man smiled.
“Thank you for seeing us at short notice, Doctor,” said Klein. “As you probably know already, we’re heading a team sent in by the Ministry of Health to deal with your problem.”
“I’d rather you didn’t call it mine,” said Neef, hoping to lighten the atmosphere.
“Quite,” said Klein without a trace of humour. “I meant, you in the general sense of the area. We’re just acquainting ourselves with all the local medical and scientific personnel who have been involved in the investigation so far. I understand from Dr Lennon that it was you who raised the possibility of a virus being responsible for the cancer outbreak.”
“One of my colleagues suggested it,” corrected Neef. “I just passed it on.”
“This would be...” Klein paused while he thumbed through a sheaf of papers. “Dr Pereira.”
“That’s right.”
“What made Dr Pereira suspect a virus?”
Neef shrugged and said, “Case pattern, I think, failure to establish any other cause.”
“If all else fails, blame a virus,” said Waters with a smirk.
Neef and Frank MacSween had often made the same kind of comment but somehow, coming from Waters, Neef found it offensive. He took a dislike to the man.
“There were other things,” said Neef. “But you’ll have to ask Dr Pereira; he’s the expert on viruses, not me.”
“But you actually got as far as looking for this supposed virus, I understand?” said Klein.
“Not personally,” said Neef. “Another of my colleagues did some electron microscopy on lung samples taken from Charles Morse. He didn’t find anything.”
“That would be...” Klein referred to his notes again. “Dr Farro-Jones at the university medical school?”
“That’s right.”
“Is Dr Pereira here at the moment?” asked Waters.
Neef said not. “Dr Pereira is not actually on the staff. He’s an employee of Menogen, a commercial biotechnology company. We’re conducting a trial of their Gene Therapy vectors at the moment.”
“We know,” said Waters. “I just thought he might be here.”
“He only comes in a couple of times a week,” said Neef.
“Why was Dr Pereira’s opinion sought in the first place?” asked Klein.
“The subject came up in conversation I suppose,” said Neef
“In conversation?” said Klein. “Do you often discuss confidential medical matters with outsiders, Doctor?”
“I regard Dr Pereira as a colleague. He is also an expert virologist who had an opinion to offer at a time when no one else did. I’m sure Dr Lennon valued his contribution too.”
“Dr Lennon is no longer in charge of this investigation,” said Klein coldly.
Neef chose not to comment.
“We must point out that there a question of confidentiality at stake,” said Klein. “Dr Pereira is an outsider.”
“I don’t understand,” said Neef. “How is this a problem?”
“The ministry has instructed us to enforce a total information ban while we conduct our inquiry. No member of the hospital or university staff will be permitted to say anything at all to the press and you of course, will no longer be at liberty to discuss any aspect of the problem with Dr Pereira.”
Neef had to consider for a moment before the full implication of what Klein was saying dawned on him. “Or what?” he challenged.
“I sincerely hope it won’t come to that, Doctor,” said Klein. “It’s all for the best. I’m sure the last thing either of us wants is to create unnecessary fear and alarm among the general public.”
Here we go again, thought Neef. “So you think it’s a virus too,” he said, giving Klein a jaundiced look.
“I think we can do without rash statements like that, Doctor.”
“Are you here to investigate the problem or cover it up?” asked Neef, his hackles rising.
“The ministry has only the public interest at heart,” said Klein.
“A comfort,” said Neef.
“I had hoped we might have a better working relationship than we appear to be developing,” said Klein.
“All you have done since you came in is tell me to keep my mouth shut,” said Neef. “Why did you bother to come all the way over here to do that?”
Klein and Waters exchanged looks. “We understand you have an association with a journalist,” said Klein. Klein made the word sound obscene.
“Miss Eve Sayers,” added Waters, referring again to his notes.
“So what?”
“We just wanted to make sure you understood how important the ministry considers confidentiality in this matter and how seriously it would view unwelcome publicity should it arise.”
“Just so there’s no misunderstanding,” added Waters.
Neef had difficulty keeping rein on his temper but he managed. Instead of arguing, he looked at his watch and said, “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m rather busy.”
“We may want to speak to you again, Doctor,” said Waters.
“My secretary, Mrs Miles will arrange an appointment,” said Neef curtly.
Waters gave a lop-sided smile and Klein said, “Thank you for your time, Doctor.” They left.
Neef picked up the phone and called David Farro-Jones. “I’ve just been interviewed by the bloody Gestapo,” he said.
“Klein and Waters? They’re not exactly Laurel and Hardy, are they?”
“Pompous pricks,” said Neef. “What exactly are they?”
“Klein’s an epidemiologist from DOH. He’s been given charge of the investigation. Waters is a virologist from Porton Down.”
“Looking for his next ‘defensive’ weapon no doubt,” said Neef.
“Careful, the phone might be tapped,” said Farro-Jones in a joking whisper.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said Neef. “You didn’t say anything about the Langholm connection, did you?” asked Neef.
“It wouldn’t have been fair to Max,” said Farro-Jones. “We didn’t come up with any evidence so I saw no point in telling them. They may of course, spot it themselves.”
“Well, if they alienate everyone as much as they have me they’re going to have to spot just about everything for themselves.” said Neef.