‘I don’t remember him but if that’s the case maybe he knows more than you think?’ said Crowe.
Mowbray shook his head. ‘We’ve been keeping tabs on him for years. He’s suffered the traditional fate of all long-term anti-government rebels; he’s become part of the establishment. He’ll probably end up with a gong in some New Year’s honours list in the near future.’
‘If you’re sure,’ said Crowe.
‘Don’t lose any sleep over it,’ said Mowbray. ‘Everything’s fine. Just you concentrate on what you have to do. Any news?’
‘Ready for final briefing in two weeks,’ said Crowe.
‘If you’re sure keeping everything a secret until the last minute is still the best idea?…’ said Mowbray.
‘It is,’ said Crowe. ‘There’s very little for your people to take on board. It’s all very simple. What about Everley?’
‘He’s already up there, making friends and influencing people,’ said Mowbray. ‘Keeps him out the way.’
‘Good.’
It was after eleven before Steven got back to Jane’s house. He was tired after a long day but any suggestion of fatigue disappeared when he saw her standing at the door.
‘I’m glad you came back,’ she said.
Steven took her in his arms and kissed her hungrily. ‘You look wonderful,’ he said.
‘I thought we might have a late supper,’ said Jane. She made a little movement with her head over her left shoulder.
Steven looked and saw the table set with a bottle of wine sitting in an ice bucket and candles lit. ‘Great idea,’ he murmured, giving Jane’s neck some serious attention. ‘Bur first things first.’
‘Would I be right in thinking you are considering an alternative order of priorities, Doctor?’ murmured Jane.
‘Clairvoyant too,’ said Steven, leading her towards the stairs. Jane made to go up first but Steven, catching sight of her bottom, pulled her back into him and cupped his hands over her breasts. Jane responded by gyrating her bottom against him, giggling as she felt his hardness. ‘At this rate,’ she murmured, ‘I fear we’re not going to make it to the bedroom.’
‘That… is a very real possibility,’ said Steven as he hitched up Jane’s dress over her hips and slipped his hand into her panties to find her already wet.
‘God, I want you.’
‘I’d never have guessed,’ said Jane, reaching behind her to free Steven. ‘The only question now is geographical?’
‘Right here, right now,’ said Steven.
Jane bent forward to rest her hands on the stairs as Steven slipped her panties off and entered her from behind.
‘You weren’t kidding, were you?’ she gasped.
When Steven finally withdrew he eased himself sideways to lie down beside her on the stairs, his face beaded with sweat. ‘Bloody hell,’ he gasped.
Jane smiled. ‘Not quite the starter I was planning on,’ she murmured. ‘But nevertheless… very nice.’
Steven kissed her lightly on the forehead and said, ‘I adore you.’
Jane put a finger on his lips and said, ‘You hardly know me. Go shower while I go do things in the kitchen.’
Later as they sat talking and sipping coffee, Jane looked up at the clock and said, ‘Look at the time. It’s gone one o’clock. If you are planning on an early start in the morning…’
‘Let’s sit in the garden,’ said Steven.
‘What?’
‘It’s a warm night. Let’s sit outside for a little while.’
Jane looked as if she had tried but failed to come up with an objection. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I don’t think anyone’s ever invited me into the garden in the middle of the night before.’
‘You should never take summer nights for granted in England,’ said Steven.
They sat together on the swing they’d sat on last time, Jane with her head resting on Steven’s shoulder, the air heavy with the scent of honeysuckle and the sky above them studded with twinkling stars. ‘Look, you can see the dagger in Orion’s belt as clear as anything,’ murmured Jane.
‘A perfect night,’ said Steven. ‘Now, if only we could make time stand still.’
‘But summer’s lease hath all too short a date,’ said Jane.
‘But thy eternal summer shall not fade,’ said Steven squeezing her hand.
‘If only,’ said Jane.
Steven was about to set off for Glasgow in the morning when his phone rang. After a brief conversation he turned to Jane and said, ‘Change of plan. That was Sci-Med. Porton have agreed to talk about vaccines. They’ve accepted an invitation to a meeting at the Home Office this afternoon. I’ll have to go back to London.’
Steven was late in getting to the meeting, which was held in Macmillan’s office. He apologised, citing a lorry shedding its load on the motorway as the reason, and Macmillan performed the introductions.
‘Steven, this is Dr Robert De Fries. ‘Dr De Fries acted as liaison officer between the Porton establishment and the army medical authorities over troop vaccinations before the Gulf War.’
Steven shook hands with a saturnine man who didn’t bother to smile and appeared to look past him.
‘And this is Dr Jonathan Sked, deputy director of the Defence Establishment at Porton Down,’ said Macmillan moving on to a tall, angular man with a greying beard who had no problem with eye contact and whose firm handshake seemed reassuring. Steven sat down beside Macmillan to face both Porton men who also sat side by side with their briefcases at their feet.
Macmillan said, ‘We’re extremely grateful to you gentlemen for agreeing to meet us at such short notice.’
‘Yes indeed,’ echoed Steven. Flattery was always a good opening gambit.
‘How can we help exactly?’ asked Sked.
Macmillan nodded to Steven who began by saying, ‘You may know, Doctors, that we’ve been looking into the death of Dr George Sebring, a former employee of yours. Although the police initially thought his death to be suicide, he was in fact, murdered and our investigation has thrown up the possibility that his killing was connected in some way with his time at the defence establishment and what he was working on there. You have told us that he was a member of a team working on the development of an AIDS vaccine but we suspect there is a link between his work and rumoured problems with the vaccinations given to the troops. We’d appreciate any help you can give us in understanding what that connection might be.’
‘You are mistaken, Doctor,’ said Sked. ‘As a researcher, Dr Sebring would not have had anything to do with routine troop vaccinations. He was employed as a viral protein specialist. This is something I checked out thoroughly with Dr Crowe, who was his team leader at the time. I did this when you people first asked about his work.
‘With respect, Doctor, I don’t think the troop vaccinations were quite the routine matter you suggest,’ said Steven. ‘History records that it was extremely difficult to get any information at all out of Porton about what exactly the troops were given.’
Sked spread his hands in a gesture of concession. ‘I admit there were problems in that certain components on the vaccination schedule were classified. This fact gave rise to rumour and counter rumour. You know how these things can get out of hand.’
‘Perhaps Sebring worked on some classified aspect of the schedule that you don’t feel at liberty to divulge?’ suggested Steven.
‘No,’ said Sked firmly. ‘It’s not a case of hiding anything. As I said, I checked all this out with Dr Crowe.’
‘Are these vaccine components still classified?’ asked Steven.
Sked shook his head, ‘No, all the vaccines were declassified by MOD at the end of 1996.’
‘Can I ask what the classified vaccines were?’
‘There were three: anthrax, pertussis and plague.’