‘On the other hand there have been several changes of government in the last twelve years,’ said Macmillan. ‘We can’t overlook simple cock-ups.’
‘I suppose not,’ said Steven.
‘Happily we are not alone in this. My man in high places — who must remain nameless — is equally worried. He’ll get back to me when he’s established whether or not he thinks it was a government-of-the-day initiative or whether it was some kind of… private enterprise?’
‘I’m not sure which of these would be the more comforting,’ said Steven with a rueful shrug. ‘In the meantime I’ll try and get as much as I can out of D’Arcy.’
Macmillan’s phone rang and he snapped into it that he had asked not to be disturbed.
Steven heard the faint, soothing tones of explanation being given by Rose Roberts.
‘Put him on,’ said Macmillan.
Steven watched Macmillan’s face turn ashen as he listened. He appeared to age before his eyes before he said, ‘Thank you for letting me know.’
‘It’s D’Arcy,’ said Macmillan. ‘He’s dead.’
Steven felt a hollow open up in his stomach. ‘But how?’ he asked. ‘He was quite stable and in an IC unit, for God’s sake.’
‘A “doctor” whom the hospital’s people believed to be one of ours and whom our people believed to be one of theirs gained access to D’Arcy and administered a lethal injection. He was dead within seconds.’
Steven felt a mixture of anger and shock. ‘How could they possibly have known where he was?’
‘What a good question,’ said Macmillan.
FOURTEEN
‘I told Jane Sebring,’ said Steven.
‘I see,’ said Macmillan. The question, why, was hanging in the air but wasn’t asked. Instead Macmillan said quietly, ‘Am I right in thinking that this woman means something to you?’
Steven nodded. ‘A great deal.’
‘Show me a man who’s never made a fool of himself over a woman and I’ll show you a man without a heart,’ said Macmillan.
Steven acknowledged the kindness and smiled but it faded almost immediately and he said, ‘But Michael D’Arcy’s dead.’
Steven faced another question he had been trying to avoid. Why had an attempt been made on D’Arcy’s life on the very day he had intended to confront him? The man had been in possession of whatever secret information he’d held for nearly twelve years so why had he suddenly been seen as a danger on that very day? Coincidence? Or had someone been tipped off about his impending visit? Only one person had known about it and that was Jane.
Steven closed his eyes to hide whatever was showing there from Macmillan’s gaze as he felt the acid drip of suspicion burn inside his head.
‘Of course we could be jumping to conclusions here,’ said Macmillan. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’
Steven told him that Jane was the only person who knew of his plans yesterday.
‘Maybe someone overheard you telling her?’
‘I told her over the phone.’
Macmillan’s eyes hardened. ‘Mobile?’
‘My mobile… but her house phone,’ said Steven, suddenly seeing what Macmillan was thinking. ‘Same as when I told her about D’Arcy’s transfer!’
‘They’ve probably had a tap on George Sebring’s house phone for years,’ said Macmillan.
Steven felt a flood of relief surge through him but almost immediately he started to feel guilty over what he’d imagined. ‘Oh my God,’ he sighed.
‘Now, we don’t know for sure that’s what’s been happening,’ cautioned Macmillan. ‘But I think my money’s on it.
Steven nodded.
‘But if that’s the case,’ said Macmillan, ‘they must know everything that’s passed between you two over the phone. Where does that leave us?’
‘I’ll have to think back.’
‘Did you pass on what D’Arcy told you about the agent before he died?’
Steven admitted he had.
‘In which case,’ said Macmillan slowly measuring his words, ‘They may conclude that Mrs Sebring knows too much…’
‘But we know about it too,’ said Steven. ‘There would be no point in harming Jane.’
‘Unless they saw her as a loose cannon who might go to the newspapers and stir up a hornet’s nest about the contaminated vaccine and her husband’s death?’
‘God, I have to get up there.’
‘Does she have a mobile phone?’
Steven shook his head. ‘We joked about it. She won’t have one. She got so fed up with her pupils’ phones ringing in class that she took a real dislike to them. She refuses to have one herself. I’ve got to warn her.’
‘You can’t risk the house phone,’ said Macmillan.
‘I know, I know,’ murmured Steven, drumming his fingers lightly and rapidly on the desktop as he sought inspiration. ‘Look, maybe you could ask the Leicester Police to go round there on some pretext,’ he said. ‘Get them to take her down to headquarters and hold on to her until I get there?
‘I’ll get on to them right away,’ said Macmillan.
‘And maybe Rose could set up safe-house accommodation? I’ll call later to get the details?’ said Steven, anxious to be on his way.
Macmillan picked up the phone but indicated that Steven should not leave just yet. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk with his free hand and withdrew an automatic pistol and a shoulder holster. ‘You know how I feel about these things,’ he said. ‘But after what happened last night to D’Arcy I got Rose to order up this for you. It’s your preferred weapon. Sign for it before you leave.’
Steven took off his jacket, slipped on the Burns Martin holster and checked the magazine of the gun before putting it away and re-donning his jacket. He pocketed three boxes of shells and all without comment. He had no greater liking for guns on the streets than Macmillan but on occasions it made sense and this was one of them.
Steven went out to Rose Roberts’ office and signed for the weapon.
‘If you lose it you pay for it,’ smiled Rose but there was little humour in her eyes when she said it, nor was there much in Steven’s answering grin. When he returned to Macmillan’s office he asked, ‘All right?’
‘They’re on their way,’ said Macmillan. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I hear she’s safe. Perhaps on the drive up to Leicester you can give some thought to how we go about getting more information about this damned agent now that D’Arcy’s dead. We have to know more than we do before we can start to make waves.’
‘I already have,’ said Steven. ‘But I need to talk to a molecular biologist.’ He told Macmillan about Maclean’s bacterial culture collection. ‘I’m convinced the agent is lurking in that lot somewhere but it’s been so well disguised that it’s going to be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack,’ he said. ‘I’m hoping there may be some quick way of checking for DNA changes in bacterial strains other than sequencing the entire genome of every bug.’
‘I’ll see what I can set up,’ said Macmillan.
Steven had been driving for some forty minutes when his mobile rang. He slowed so that he could hear it above the engine noise. It was Macmillan to say that Jane was now safe at police headquarters and was none too pleased because no one could or would tell her what was going on.
‘Sounds like her,’ said Steven. ‘How about accommodation?’
‘That’s been arranged too,’ said Macmillan. ‘Rose will text you the details.’
‘Steven, just what the hell is going on?’ demanded Jane when she saw Steven enter the interview room where she was seated at a table, an untouched cup of tea in front of her. ‘Why am I being held here? No one will tell me anything.’