“Good,” said Sarah. Paddy stifled a smile.
Sarah changed the subject quickly in case Tyndall had noticed. “I didn’t realise you had an interest in immunology sir?” she said.
Tyndall smiled self-deprecatingly and said, “It’s my brother who’s the star, Doctor but we discuss everything and I contribute the occasional idea.”
“I’m sure you are being far too modest, sir,” said Sarah.
“I don’t think you’ve met my brother, Doctor?” asked Tyndall, turning away to look behind him.
Paddy shot Sarah an amused glance which she found irritating. “Frightening!” he whispered, as Tyndall called to his brother to join them.
The man who joined them was the short man about whom Sarah had wondered earlier. He still didn’t smile, but nodded curtly and shook hands with both Sarah and Paddy in turn as Murdoch Tyndall introduced them.
“Congratulations, Professor,” said Sarah. “A brilliant piece of work.”
Tyndall smiled for the first time, a shy introverted smile which told Sarah that he was uneasy in the company of women. “It’s kind of you to say so, Doctor,” he said. “Do you have an interest in this kind of research?”
“I got interested in molecular biology at medical school, Professor, but there were so many other things to learn at the time that I couldn’t give it as much attention as I’d have liked. I understand that you identified the molecular trigger sequence of the virus?”
“We did,” replied Tyndall.
“May I ask how?”
“Basically, we identified the repressor substance which normally binds to the trigger sequence of the virus.”
“That’s what normally keeps the virus in check?” queried Duncan, anxious to be part of the conversation.
“That’s right,” said Tyndall. “Once we’d done that we could design a protein which would bind to the sequence irreversibly instead of being subject to degradation by UV light, stress etc.”
“So the virus is still present in the body?” asked Sarah.
“Yes but it’s no longer subject to periodic triggering.”
“Absolutely fascinating,” said Sarah.
“I think we’re being called,” Murdoch Tyndall murmured to his brother. They all looked in the direction Tyndall was looking in and saw that the chairman of the board of management and the hospital secretary were beckoning to the Tyndalls. One was smiling and pointing at his watch.
“I’m afraid it looks like speech time,” said Murdoch Tyndall making an apologetic gesture with his shoulders and spreading his hands. “See you later.”
Sarah and Paddy watched the Tyndall brothers make their way through the crowd to the front of the room, Murdoch enjoying the greetings and congratulations on the way, his brother obviously embarrassed by it all, keeping his head down as if intent on watching where he was putting his feet. The crowd broke into spontaneous applause as the pair mounted the small platform to be welcomed with handshakes from the chairman of the board and several other men whom Sarah didn’t recognise but assumed to be something to do with management.
The hospital secretary made a short speech congratulating the Tyndalls on their achievement and reflecting on how much kudos their work would bring the hospital. The board of management took particular pride in being the first — he felt sure — of many bodies to honour the Tyndalls for their work. This reference to future prize prospects brought more applause and murmurs of ‘Hear, hear’. In reply, Murdoch Tyndall made a charming, self-effacing speech, giving the lion’s share of the credit to his brother and saying that their greatest pleasure came from the knowledge that they had made a contribution to the fight against disease. There was more applause and the speeches were over.
The crowd became small groups again and chatter took over as the Tyndalls started to circulate with Murdoch doing the talking and smiling and his brother following along behind.
“So what do you think of the great man?” asked Paddy.
“I think he’s rather sweet,” replied Sarah. “It’s strange how two brothers can be so different.”
“Chalk and cheese,” agreed Paddy.
“But both brilliant.”
“There ain’t no justice,” said Paddy. “Two geniuses are a bit much for any one family.”
“Makes you believe in genetics,” smiled Sarah.
She was about to follow Paddy to the buffet table when she suddenly realised that Cyril Tyndall had detached himself from his brother’s coat-tails and was coming towards her. She had a moment’s indecision, feeling that it must be someone else he was making for before saying to Paddy, “You go on. I’ll join you.”
Tyndall came up to Sarah and smiled without parting his lips. “I don’t think we finished our conversation, Doctor Lasseter.”
Sarah felt a flush come to her cheeks. A possible Nobel prize-winner had come all the way over to speak to her and she felt flattered beyond belief. “This is really very good of you, Professor,” she stammered.
“It is always a pleasure to speak to people who are research-minded. Do you plan to move into research yourself, Doctor?”
For the first time in her career Sarah felt slightly embarrassed about admitting to her plans of going into general practice. She didn’t like the feeling and blamed Logan for it, sensing that she was betraying her father. She told Tyndall of her intentions.
“That’s a pity,” said Tyndall. “Murdoch tells me that you are an exceptionally gifted doctor. It would be a shame to see such potential go untapped.”
“It’s very kind of you to say so,” said Sarah, feeling totally overwhelmed by the thought that the Tyndall brothers had been discussing her.
“Perhaps you would like to visit my lab one day soon and we could perhaps talk further?” suggested Tyndall.
“That’s very kind of you sir. I’d love to,” replied Sarah.
“Just give me a call then,” said Tyndall. “Murdoch will give you my private extension.”
“Thank you sir,” said Sarah, still feeling overawed by everything.
Tyndall excused himself and returned to his brother’s side as Paddy returned with another food-laden plate. “You’re getting on well,” he said before taking his first mouthful.
“Professor Tyndall invited me to visit his lab,” said Sarah.
“I’m not surprised. That dress of yours is absolutely stunning.”
Sarah turned on Paddy with an angry look in her eyes. “Of all the sexist nonsense,” she stormed, trying to keep her voice down while making her point forcibly.
“Is it?” replied Paddy. “He didn’t ask me.”
“Professor Tyndall recognised that I was interested in the research. That’s why he invited me.”
“Of course,” said Paddy, tongue in cheek.
“I’m quite sure the professor wouldn’t mind if you were to come along too if you’re interested,” said Sarah.
Paddy smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Playing gooseberry is not my style.” He grinned mischievously as he saw the anger flash again in Sarah’s eyes.
Realising he was baiting her, she calmed down and said, “Enough! I’m hungry.”
For once, John Main was lucky. No one had been murdered or raped in the city that day. Banks and sub post-offices had remained inviolate and nothing substantial had been burned down. The only national story was the latest wrangle over EEC farming subsidies — not a natural for a local evening paper. So, although the first edition led with a council tenant ‘slamming’ the council over dampness in his flat, the second and final editions hit the streets with CEMETERY FOUR DIE IN HOLOCAUST.
Main bought a copy from the newsagent on the corner of the street where he lived and read it outside on the pavement. Below the headline was a photograph of the cemetery where Simon had been buried. It was the same photograph the paper had used in the original story but that didn’t matter. The coverage was what mattered. The story began with a recap of his son’s disinterment and how the police had failed to make an arrest. Main felt pleased with himself as he read on. This was exactly what he had set out to achieve. A second photograph showed the burnt-out wreck of the car in which the men had died. There had been no other vehicle involved, and the circumstances of the fire remained a mystery. The police had refused to comment at this stage but their inquiries were continuing. Questioned as to whether foul play was suspected, Chief Superintendent Hamish Anderson had declined to speculate.