There was a long silence at the end of the phone before Rose murmured, ‘I wish I could argue with you…’
‘Pity,’ said Steven. ‘I was sort of depending on you. I was hoping this was all my imagination.’
‘But if the Cambodia 5 attack is nothing more than a diversion… what are they really up to?’ asked Rose.
‘I have absolutely no idea,’ said Steven.
‘Perhaps you should re-convene Earlybird and tell them what you’ve just told me?’
‘And confess to everyone that we really have no idea what al-Qaeda are up to? HMG will go bananas and it’ll look like sports day for headless chickens in Whitehall.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ agreed Rose. ‘The Spanish will probably lobby Brussels to slap a quota on red herrings on the grounds that we’ve been over-fishing them.’
‘I can’t prove any of this,’ said Steven. ‘It’s still just a feeling. I could still be wrong. Maybe the Norfolk Police were just lucky in getting to the mill house… Maybe it was just good forensic work that came up with the monkey hair and good fortune that the garage attendant remembered the Land Rover…’
‘No,’ interrupted Rose. ‘Let me stop you there. She remembered it because it had been in to the filling station a number of times. We should have seen that earlier. We both know that no trained terrorist group would have returned to the same place time and time again unless…’
‘They had been told to,’ completed Steven. ‘They wanted to be remembered. Of course, you’re right.’
‘So where do we go from here?’
‘As I see it, there’s nothing anyone can do that isn’t already being done,’ said Steven. ‘All the services are already on high alert. We have to sit down and think our way out of this one.’
‘So we say nothing?’
‘For the moment.’
Steven saw that there was one exception he had to make and that was to tell John Macmillan. He called him and told him what he had just told Rose.
‘You know,’ said Macmillan, not sounding too surprised, ‘I’ve been sitting here wondering about that petrol receipt. If it had been found among general detritus on the floor of the van, I might just have bought it, but it was the only thing the police found in the van apart from the monkey hair…’
‘So you agree?’
‘I do. I think it was a plant.’
‘Did anything else strike you?’ asked Steven.
‘One thing,’ said Macmillan. ‘I see from your report that you asked about the sale of primates up and down the country?’
‘I was trying to find out how the opposition got their hands on a monkey to plant in the wilds of Norfolk for the army to find,’ said Steven. ‘But I drew a blank. The only orders for primates placed in the previous three months came from recognised research labs.’
‘That’s true,’ said Macmillan. ‘But one of them was the Crick.’
‘Professor Devon was using them to test his experimental vaccine on,’ said Steven.
‘The last order — for six monkeys — was placed a week after Devon died.’
‘Shit, I missed that.’
‘The real question is who wanted them and why?’ said Macmillan. ‘According to your report, Professor Devon was the only researcher using monkeys at the institute. When Dr Martin took over the work on a vaccine against Cambodia 5 there was no question of her being able to try it out on animals. Apart from there being no time, everyone had learned their lesson from the Devon debacle. Any animal tests to be carried out involving Cambodia 5 would have to be done out at Porton Down.’
‘Good point,’ agreed Steven. ‘Maybe I’ll go up to the Crick first thing tomorrow and find out who placed the order…’
Steven smiled as he put down the phone. It was good to see that John Macmillan was still as sharp as ever. He called the garage to ask why his replacement car had not turned up.
‘We were promised it this morning but it didn’t happen,’ said Stan Silver, the owner of the small garage who’d supplied Steven’s cars and who had looked after them for several years. Although they’d never served in the regiment at the same time together, Silver had also served with the SAS. ‘I phoned at the back of four and they said it was ‘in transit’. It’s still not appeared.’
‘I need a car first thing in the morning, Stan.’
‘There’s an old Nissan Primera you could have… rear spoiler and everything… Hello? Are you still there?’
‘I assumed you were having a laugh,’ said Steven coldly.
‘Okay, okay, look, there’s a Porsche 911 I could let you have but I have to have it back by tomorrow night at the latest. A customer’s coming in to see it first thing on Thursday morning and I need this sale. Definitely no cliff diving. Understood?’
‘Highly amusing,’ said Steven. ‘I’ll have it back, Stan; I promise.’
In the morning, Steven decided to drop in and see Frank Giles before driving on to the Crick Institute. As it happened, Giles was just coming out of the building as Steven was parking the Porsche.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Giles. ‘A silver Porsche… supplied by Stan Silver Motors,’ he said, reading from the rear screen. ‘You’ve come up in the world.’
‘It turns into a pumpkin at midnight,’ said Steven. ‘Mine for a day.’
‘Bad luck. You coming to see me?’
‘I was passing so I thought I’d pop in and see if you’d caught the bastard who rolled me off the bridge,’ said Steven.
Giles shook his head. ‘He abandoned the stolen vehicle half a mile up the road and disappeared into the night. We’ve absolutely nothing to go on.’
‘May he rot in hell,’ said Steven.
‘Mustn’t let a little thing like attempted murder become personal,’ said Giles. ‘It strikes me as odd though…’
‘What does?’
‘According to your statement, he reversed and deliberately pushed you off the bridge.’
‘He did.’
‘Why? Your car was disabled and you didn’t get a look at him on the way past: you said he was all wrapped up against the cold. Why stop, reverse and try to kill you?’
‘Who knows? I suppose I was pretty abusive: I shouted at him.’
‘You must have really pissed him off…’ said Giles. ‘If a bit of road rage escalated to that… in such a short space of time…’
‘Sign of the times,’ said Steven.
‘Maybe…’
‘Well, I don’t think I want to go there right now,’ said Steven.
‘Just a thought,’ said Giles. ‘Where do you want to go right now?’
Steven told him about going to the Crick and why.
‘Let me know how you get on.’
Steven did not have much interest in cars but had to admit that the drive over to the Crick in a Porsche 911 was something to savour. He knew the car had a marvellous reputation and now he understood why. It stuck to the road like glue as he pushed it harder and harder through the corners. He was feeling quite exhilarated and more than a little disappointed that the journey was over when he reached the institute and nursed the car in through the gates to park in front of the newly rendered façade of the building.
‘I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again,’ said Nick Cleary with a smile. He’d come along to Reception to meet Steven. ‘I’d like to think this is social but I fear not?’