‘Hey! John Le Carré stuff,’ Lukas exclaimed. ‘Is the exchange going to be made on London Bridge at midnight?’
‘We think a sorting office somewhere in south west London is more likely,’ said Steven. ‘MI5 are coming to the party too.’ He went on to tell Lukas of the agreement that all material was to be shared on site. ‘Can you bring along everything you might need to make copies from a range of data sources?’
‘No problem. What’s between you and Five, I thought we’re all on the same side?’
‘We think Five, or more likely Porton Down, have been working on the same thing Barrowman has and maybe they’d like to keep it all to themselves.’
‘For reasons connected with defence of the realm,’ Lukas said with the merest suggestion of sarcasm.
‘What else?’
‘OK, I’ve got the picture, but what happens then?’
‘I’m not with you,’ Steven confessed.
‘We both leave with the data. Presumably you’d like me to examine it and interpret it if I can?’
‘There’s no one better.’
‘But from what you’ve said it sounds like it’s some sort of race. You don’t think there might be... interference? I mean, if Five really doesn’t want to share Barrowman’s data...’
‘Sir John obtained an assurance from the Home Secretary herself that no such “interference” would be tolerated,’ said Steven. ‘Sci-Med is off limits to the intelligence services.’
‘A comfort,’ said Lukas, ‘but maybe I should increase our fire insurance cover just in case a freak lightning storm should strike the area.’
‘Wouldn’t do any harm,’ agreed Steven, ‘nor would making some extra copies of everything to be kept at an undisclosed location.’
Before leaving for Capital University in the morning, Steven sent a text to Jane Lincoln to warn her he would be coming, but not to see her. He planned to interview Dorothy.
‘I take it you’re her to see Jane,’ said Dorothy Lindstrom when she saw him appear in the lab. She said so without smiling and Steven replied in the same way, ‘No, Professor, it’s you I’d like to speak to.’
For a moment, it looked as if Dorothy might dig in her heels to make a point, but Steven’s unsmiling countenance changed her mind. ‘If you can just give me a moment.’
‘Of course.’
Dorothy finished briefing the student she was with and invited Steven in to her office. She parked herself behind her desk as if establishing the rules of the game and invited him to sit with a wave of her open palm. Before he did so, Steven challenged the rules by taking out his ID and laying it open on the desk. He informed Dorothy that this was a formal interview, he was not interviewing her under caution, although he had the right to do so and, if she preferred, they could continue at a local police station.
Dorothy’s eyes opened wide in amazement. ‘Good heavens, couldn’t we just talk?’ she asked.
‘Professor Lindstrom, I have reason to believe that the fire which took the lives of two of your young colleagues at Yale University may not have been an accident. I think there’s a very real chance that they were murdered.’
Dorothy searched for words. ‘But this is... an outrageous suggestion,’ she stammered. ‘It was an accident... a tragic accident... the fire department, the police... they all agreed it was an accident.’
‘They did,’ Steven agreed, ‘but they could have been wrong.’
‘But why? Why would anyone want to kill Paul and Carrie?’
‘To make sure what they had discovered would not be made public.’
Dorothy reacted by staring down at her desk.
‘You weren’t happy with their findings either, were you, Professor?’
‘It’s true I found their conclusions... very difficult to accept.’
‘To the point of preventing their publication.’
Dorothy shook her head as if dismissing a ridiculous suggestion. ‘That’s going too far,’ she said. ‘I... we all had to be absolutely sure before allowing such findings to be made public. Paul and Carrie were young; they were impatient and impetuous; they gave no thought to the possible repercussions of what they were intent on announcing.’
‘So, you put a stop to that.’
Dorothy took two or three deep breaths before saying quietly, ‘I suppose you could say that. I just needed time to be sure. We all had to be sure.’
‘Did you know they were repeating their experiments in the evening in the hope of convincing you they were right?’
‘Of course, I did.’
‘But you didn’t want to know.’
‘They were rushing, doing the same thing all over again in the same way, that’s not what was needed.’
‘So, you murdered them to put a stop to it.’
‘No, a thousand times no,’ Dorothy spluttered, shocked to the core. ‘They were my colleagues, my friends, brilliant young minds. I wanted them to slow down, think things through and use a different approach to asking the same questions.’
‘They thought you were blocking their findings for your own selfish reasons.’
‘If by “selfish reasons” you mean my faith, you’re right, that has always been very important to me. I certainly didn’t want it damaged by findings which subsequently turned out to be flawed. I didn’t want to hide the truth, I just had to be sure it was the truth.’
‘Outside your lab... who knew about the findings?’
‘No one.’
‘You didn’t tell anyone at all?’
Steven noticed a slight flicker in her eyes before she repeated her answer. ‘Are you... absolutely sure?’
‘I was deeply troubled,’ said Dorothy. ‘I... I did unburden myself at confession, but that is sacrosanct. It’s not the same as telling someone.’
Steven thought privately it was exactly the same but asked, ‘Who took your confession, Professor?’
‘Bishop Charles Stanley.’
‘Was he the cleric who spoke at the Yale conference on human behaviour?’
Surprise registered on Dorothy’s face. ‘Yes, we have been friends for some time. How did you know about that meeting?’
Steven told her that Neil Tyler had been present at the conference.
‘I see. Bishop Stanley and I both believe that there is no need for science and religion to be at war with each other. They have more in common than most care to admit.’
‘Your post-doc, Paul Leighton, openly accused you of blocking the publication of his work at that meeting.’
‘He did,’ Dorothy responded quickly. ‘Paul was upset, he was a young man in a hurry to receive scientific acclaim, without subjecting himself to rigorous examination from all angles.’
‘And Carrie?’
‘Paul could be very persuasive. He probably convinced her she could be the next Marie Curie.’
Steven relaxed his demeanour: he believed what he was hearing. ‘So, Professor, if you weren’t involved in the deaths, who was?’
‘I can’t believe anyone was. I’m still convinced it was an accident, an awful accident.’
‘A priest came to see you at the university a few days after the fire, who was he?’
Dorothy paused as if wondering where Steven was heading. ‘Father Liam Crossan.’
Steven was forced to prompt for more. ‘The priest at your local church?’
Dorothy shook her head. She did it absent-mindedly as if thinking about something else, but when she became aware that Steven was waiting patiently, she said, ‘Bishop Stanley asked him to come and see me. He was worried about my state of mind and thought I might benefit from counselling.’
Steven noted a slight edge creep into her voice. ‘And did you?’ he asked.
‘No... Father Crossan came across as a friendly, charming man, but, after a short conversation, it became apparent that he was more interested in my future plans than in my then state of mind...’