‘It’s more than likely that these will be the last cases,’ said Cane. ‘It’ll all be over by Christmas.’ He laughed at his own joke and his team dutifully followed his lead. Steven couldn’t help but think that the last time someone in authority said that, it had been followed by five years of world war.
‘I still think we should be at least thinking about contingency plans, in the unfortunate event that we’re faced with a more lengthy outbreak than we had anticipated,’ said Byars, tiptoeing through a minefield of egos.
‘I must say I agree,’ said Miss Christie, the nursing director. ‘I think it would be an idea to broaden our nursing base for the courses to include nursing volunteers from other hospitals.’
‘We might also like to talk to the local council about suitable vacant accommodation that could be pressed into service — in the unfortunate event that the need should arise,’ said Byars.
Cane shrugged as if he wanted nothing to do with such considerations, and looked at his watch. He said, ‘I’m due to speak with my Scottish colleagues about the outbreak in Perth in ten minutes. We’re hopeful of being able to establish a link.’
‘Good luck,’ said Steven.
‘And so say all of us,’ added Byars. ‘I suggest we all meet again tomorrow morning to assess the situation. Miss Christie, I suggest you contact your colleagues at other hospitals with your idea, and perhaps Mr Morely might speak to relevant council officials about the accommodation issue — purely as a precautionary measure.’
Steven left the meeting with Caroline Anderson. When they were free of the others he said, ‘You look like a woman in need of a cup of coffee.’
‘I’d sell my soul for one right now,’ she replied.
‘There’ll be no charge.’ Steven smiled.
They sought out a local hotel and sat down at a window table in the breakfast room, where they both ordered black coffee and toast.
‘What’s the problem?’ asked Steven, seeing that she was preoccupied.
‘That damned disco,’ replied Caroline. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about it now that the girl’s gone down with the disease. I’m beginning to think I should have put out that appeal yesterday.’
‘You called it as you saw it and, for what it’s worth, I think it was the right thing to do. The appeal wouldn’t have made any difference in practical terms. It’s not as if you were going to be able to take two hundred people off the streets and lock them away for two or three weeks. The best you could have hoped for was persuading them to stay at home for the period when they’re going to infect the people they’re most likely to infect anyway: their families.’
Caroline looked at him and smiled. ‘Thanks for the support. But I still feel bad because… because I…’
‘You didn’t play it strictly by the book, and that makes you vulnerable should the shit start to fly.’
‘I suppose that’s it exactly,’ agreed Caroline. ‘You sound as if you’re familiar with the feeling.’
‘Story of my life,’ said Steven. ‘Doing what’s right isn’t nearly as easy as people imagine. In your case the book might say that frightening two hundred kids to death is a good idea, but you and I know differently, especially when dealing with a disease we can do nothing at all about.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate your support.’
‘Actually, there’s something else I’d like you to do that isn’t strictly by the book,’ he said.
‘Hence the coffee.’ Caroline smiled.
‘That had nothing to do with it,’ said Steven firmly. ‘Do you think you could spare one of your people to carry out an inspection of a restaurant in town?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Caroline, a bit guardedly.
‘On a daily basis until I say stop?’
Caroline’s eyes opened wide. ‘Are you serious?’ she asked.
‘Never more so.’
NINE
Edinburgh
Paul Grossart hitched up the waistband of his trousers as he approached the desk of the George Hotel. He had lost weight recently and his clothes were starting to hang badly on him.
‘I’m having dinner with Mr Vance,’ he told the receptionist, thinking that eating dinner was the last thing he wanted to do. Food just wasn’t high on his agenda these days.
The girl, wearing corporate uniform with a distinctive Scottish theme, pushed her hair back with both hands and checked a small lined notebook in front of her. ‘Mr Vance’s party is in a private dining room this evening, Mr…?’
‘Grossart.’
‘Mr Grossart. William will take you up, sir.’ She smiled, and summoned the short stocky porter lurking by the stairs and Grossart was led to a small dining room, where he found Vance sitting talking with two other men. His first impression was that the men were not scientists; they were dressed too well.
‘Come in, Paul,’ said Vance, getting to his feet. ‘I thought it best if we met on neutral ground this time round. Drink?’
Grossart asked for a gin and tonic, which Vance ordered before introducing him to the strangers. ‘Paul, this is Clyde Miller, a crisis-management specialist, and this is Dr Lee Chambers, one of our in-house physicians and a specialist in infectious diseases.’
Grossart shook hands with both men and sat down.
‘How are things?’ asked Vance.
Grossart looked at him as if it were an obscene question. ‘You know how things are,’ he retorted. ‘Both my people at the field station have called in sick — that’s why you’re here, damn it. Look, Hiram, this thing has gone far enough. I think we should come clean and be done with it.’
Vance looked at him coldly and said, ‘Not an option, I’m afraid. We’re all in this together and there’s no going back.’ He spoke with such finality that Grossart was speechless for a moment.
‘And just what the hell do I do about my people in Wales?’ he asked when he’d recovered.
‘Nothing,’ said Vance. ‘Absolutely nothing. That’s why Clyde and Lee are here. They’ll be on their way to Wales first thing tomorrow morning and they’ll take charge of everything. They’ll see to it that your folks get the best of treatment, should they need it. They’ll want for nothing, I promise. All you have to do…’
Grossart looked at him expectantly.
‘All you have to do is stall the families when they start asking awkward questions. We’ll have to sever direct communications with the field station until the situation resolves itself one way or the other, so they’re bound to start complaining.’
‘And what the hell do I tell them when they do?’ complained Grossart.
Vance leaned forward in his seat, all trace of good humour gone from his face. ‘You use your initiative, Paul, that’s what you do. I fucking well pay you enough!’
Manchester
The first snow of the winter fell on Manchester. It quickly turned to brown slush on the city streets, but the parks and gardens managed to hold on to their blanket of white long enough for Steven to see the irony of a white coat being worn by such a black day. Twelve new admissions were made to City General, thankfully all of them known contacts, while three more people in Perth went down with the disease, again, known contacts of the dead man, McDougal.
Jack Cane avoided eye contact with anyone when he admitted quietly at the morning meeting that no connection between the Manchester and the Scottish outbreaks had been established, nor was one likely to be. His team had worked all day and right through the night with their opposite numbers in Scotland, but had failed to find a link.
‘The damned thing seems to have come out of the blue,’ said a weary-looking Cane.
Steven took no pleasure in seeing that all Cane’s self-confidence had disappeared and he seemed a broken man.
Cane’s comment heralded thirty seconds of silence, before George Byars said, ‘So it seems fair to say things aren’t looking too good this morning.’
‘One of my nurses in the special unit reported sick this morning,’ said Miss Christie. ‘I think it’s serious. She sustained a needlestick injury last week while changing a saline drip. The patient was only semi-conscious at the time: he moved at the wrong moment and the needle went right through her suit into her arm.’