Alchemist (24 page)

She saw Seals lying on the floor. His body disappearing in the explosion of vapour when she'd turned on the shower. She remembered going to phone the ambulance, struggling with
the dial, then nothing more. ‘How – how is – he?' Her voice sounded strange, much higher than usual, squeaky.

‘Your colleague?'

She nodded, hoping desperately there had been some miracle.

‘Not good,' the doctor said gently.

‘Is he – alive?'

The reply seemed to take an age. ‘I'm afraid he didn't make it.' Pause. ‘You did everything you could.'

She bit her lip, which felt puffy. ‘No, I – I –' She tried to think, to go back to the lab, to replay the scenario in her mind. She'd left him lying there, hissing and screeching under the shower. Eaten alive by acid.

She could taste the coppery tang of blood and the sharper, sourer, sulphurous taste of the chemical; could smell it in her nostrils. It was eating its way through her, too. That's why there were so many people looking at her. Medical students; they had been brought along to watch her die in agony. Like Mr Seals, but more slowly.

‘There was nothing more you could have done,' the doctor said. ‘You did all the right things.'

She thought fleetingly of the defiant, arrogant Jake Seals in the pub on Monday, suddenly clamming up and refusing to talk any more about the company, as if something had scared him. He had not seemed like a man to be easily scared. Then yesterday, quietly telling her he had got the pills she wanted, still looking scared.

What had happened to those Maternox? Were they destroyed by the acid, or still lying around in the lab somewhere? Could she get a message to Mr Wentworth before she, too, died?

‘How does your throat feel?' the doctor asked.

She looked back at him and swallowed, testing it. ‘OK – a bit sore.'

‘The scans we've done have shown up a small oedema in your lungs, but it's nothing to worry about – it's more a reaction to the irritant – there's no sign of any permanent damage. You may have suffered a tiny amount of burn and scarring to some internal tissue, which will cause you some
tenderness for a while – but it should heal up in a couple of weeks. You need to take it very easy for a few days.'

Her first thought was not relief but that he was lying. Even if he was telling the truth, how could he be sure? He didn't know how destructive the acid was; no one did.

She breathed in again. The metallic smell was sweetened suddenly with the scent of flowers. She turned her head and saw a large bouquet on the table beside her, and suddenly noticed her father sitting by the bed. His presence immediately comforted her.

Dressed in a white polo-neck sweater and tweed jacket, absorbing everything that was going on, giving the impression he was presiding over the room like a tribal chieftain, he winked as he caught her eye. And the simple gesture flooded her with warmth and a burst of confidence.

‘You were very brave, darling, trying to help the poor chap,' he said.

‘I did the wrong things. I shouldn't have put water on; I should have stayed with him.'

‘Water was the right thing; there wasn't anything else you could have done.'

‘I'll come back in the morning,' the doctor said. ‘See how you're getting on.' He turned to her father. ‘Good to see you again, Dick.'

‘You too. I really appreciate this.'

Monty watched the two men shaking hands, then, as the entourage moved off, her father leaned over to her. ‘Gordon Lanscomb. He's the top respiratory man in the country. I worked with him on that government genetics advisory board a few years back – you couldn't be in better hands.'

She smiled her acknowledgement. ‘What's the tune?'

He glanced at his watch. ‘Half past four.'

The news surprised her. ‘Four? In the afternoon?'

‘You've been asleep for a while, darling. How are you feeling?'

‘OK,' she said flatly. ‘I'm OK.' She watched him for a while. ‘You don't need to stay – it's nice that you're here, but you have a lot to do – tonight – you have something on, don't you?'

‘I've got that talk at Sussex University – I'll have to leave in a sec. I'll be back in the morning.'

‘How long do I have to stay in?'

‘Gordon thinks a couple of days – they want to let your lungs settle down, keep you under observation.' He squeezed her hand. ‘Don't worry, you're a tough little thing.'

‘It's that chemical that worries me.'

‘The healthy human body's a pretty resilient thing. They've given you a cocktail of anti-carcinogen drugs that are pretty effective – they're used in the nuclear power industry for workers who have accidental radiation exposure – you'll be fine. Dr Crowe rang me a short while ago – said if you'd prefer they could arrange to have you moved to one of the Bendix clinics. They're superb hospitals, but I think with Gordon Lanscomb being the consultant, I'd rather you stayed here. Up to you?' He raised his eyebrows.

‘I'll stay here.'

‘Sensible.' Then he frowned. ‘Tell me what actually happened, darling. And why on earth were you in so early?'

Monty tried to collect her thoughts, not wanting to say too much to her father. ‘Mr Seals said he was leaving in a few weeks and wanted to have a blitz on getting everything straight for us before he did. We thought the best thing was to have a few really early mornings, get in before the phones started.'

‘Were you there when the accident happened? Did you see it?'

She shook her head.

‘That's the danger of doing anything when you're overtired. He must have tripped, I suppose – but surely to God the man had more sense than to carry a chemical that lethal with its cap removed? And no protective eye-wear?'

‘He said something about a wolf.'

‘Did you say
wolf
?' her father echoed.

‘I didn't understand either.'

The scientist looked at her quizzically. ‘Wolf?' He took Monty's left hand and examined it thoroughly. ‘You didn't get any of this stuff on your skin, did you?'

‘No.'

‘Well, I don't think I've noticed too many wolves wandering around the building. Have you?'

She managed a half-smile back. ‘I think he – he was delirious. I just heard an alarm ringing when I got out of the lift and ran straight down. He – he –' Her voice faltered.

‘It's OK, don't talk about it now.' Dr Bannerman turned towards the flowers, changing the subject. ‘Wonder who these are from? A secret admirer?'

Monty turned her head towards them, fighting back tears. She reached up an arm. Anticipating her, Dick Bannerman pulled the envelope off the top and handed it to her. She opened it carefully and read the short message inside.

‘
I understand you were extremely brave this morning. Our thoughts are with you for what you have been through. We are all very proud of you. Neil Rorke
.'

The note cheered her, and she passed it to her father. ‘I think that's very kind, don't you, Daddy?'

‘About the least he could do. Probably trying to fend off a lawsuit from you.'

She chided him. ‘That's a bit harsh! He's a really nice man – he did keep his word about Walt –' She bit her lip. She had not told her father the news about Walter Hoggin being made redundant and then reinstated.

‘Walt?'

‘I – I really do like Sir Neil,' she said hastily.

‘I prefer him to Crowe. Not that there's much of a contest.'

There was a sharp knock on the door, then it opened and a man looked in. ‘Miss Bannerman?' he said, without apologizing for his intrusion.

‘Yes?'

His appearance instantly told her he was not a medic. He possessed more the air of a bank manager. In his mid-forties, he had a smoothly good-looking face with neatly delineated features beneath close-cropped black hair. A raincoat was neatly folded over his arm.

‘Detective Superintendent Levine,' he said by way of introduction in a crisp voice that carried a faint Scottish burr. Acknowledging her father's existence with only a
cursory nod, he walked across to the bed, fished from his breast pocket a wallet, which he opened in a slick one-handed motion to show Monty his warrant card. ‘I wonder if I might have a few words with you?'

‘Of course.'

‘Could this not wait until tomorrow?' Dick Bannerman said, a trace aggressively.

‘It's OK, Daddy,' Monty said.

Bannerman looked at the detective, stood up then leaned down and kissed Monty. ‘You sure?'

‘Yes.'

‘Right – I'll leave you to it. I'll come by first thing in the morning.'

‘Don't, Daddy, there's no need – you have so much to do at the moment.'

He squeezed her hand gently and looked into her eyes. ‘You matter more than any of it, darling. OK?'

She kissed him goodbye. ‘Thank you,' she mouthed.

The policeman waited until the scientist had closed the door behind him, then sat down, resting his coat on his lap. Sharp grey eyes studied her carefully and perfect white teeth transmitted to her the fleeting illusion of a smile. His skin had the kind of light tan acquired from sun-beds, and his trim physique suggested a man who kept himself in shape, perhaps obsessively. There was something altogether rather clinical about him, Monty thought, which was furthered by his very formal way of speaking.

‘I won't take up much of your time, Miss Bannerman, but as you are the only person who saw what happened you'll appreciate my need to talk to you.' He sat very straight, with perfect posture.

‘Of course.'

‘Would you like to tell me as much as you can remember?' Again the teeth hinted briefly at a smile before gliding back behind thin, straight lips.

Monty told him exactly what had happened from the time she stepped out of the lift. He listened in silence, without taking any notes. When she told him Seals had shouted something about a wolf, he frowned.

‘Are you sure you heard correctly?' The idea seemed to perturb him.

‘Yes.'

‘I don't know if you are aware, Miss Bannerman, but it appears your colleague was intoxicated when he came to work. He had a blood alcohol level of twice the legal limit for driving. That might explain his extraordinary carelessness.'

‘It seems out of character.'

The detective superintendent parted his hands as if he were opening an invisible book. ‘It might also explain any strange remarks. I understand he'd had a night on the town and was with a young lady until two in the morning. If he'd drunk a lot, it's very possible his blood alcohol level was still high at a quarter to six in the morning.'

Monty heard what he was saying, but it astonished her. Then she realized she barely knew Jake Seals. Maybe he had even been on drugs as well, hence the wolf hallucination.

Levine fixed a penetrating stare on Monty. ‘A quarter to six seems very early to go to work, Miss Bannerman. Is that your normal routine?'

She thought before responding, not wanting to say anything that could enable him to probe deeper. ‘When you work for someone like my father, you have to put in those kind of hours just to keep up with him.'

‘Of course.' There was no reaction in Levine's face and his eyes did not leave hers. ‘And that is the time you start work every day?'

‘I used to in our previous lab,' she lied. ‘I hoped it might be easier here, with more assistants, but it isn't. We're still winding down our old premises, so I'm trying to be in two places at once. I decided to start coming in early from today.'

‘And is it customary for Mr Seals to come in so early?'

‘I wouldn't know.'

His eyes continued to scrutinize her. ‘I thought it was the police who drew the short straw on unsociable hours.' This time there was a trace of warmth in his smile.

‘It's not from choice,' she said. ‘I can assure you.'

He stood up. ‘You've been very helpful, thank you. I
won't take any more of your time now. If you don't mind, in a few days I'll arrange for someone to come and take a formal statement, and I expect you'll be asked to attend the inquest.'

‘Yes, of course.'

After he had gone, she lay back thinking. Detective
Superintendent
. She did not know much about police ranks, but that sounded senior. It struck her as strange that someone so high up should be sent to investigate an industrial accident, but maybe that was the kind of respect Bendix Schere commanded – or insisted on.

She closed her eyes, feeling tired, and lapsed into a troubled doze.

‘Do you think you can manage a little something to eat?'

Monty opened her eyes with a start to see a nurse in blue uniform laying a tray on a swing table over the bed. ‘I brought you some tomato soup, steamed fish and ice cream.'

Monty looked at it queasily. ‘I – I don't think I'm really very hungry.'

‘Try to eat a little.'

Monty started to sit up. The nurse cranked up the head rest and shifted her pillows. ‘There you go. Would you like the television on?'

‘OK, sure.'

The nurse switched it on, then gave Monty the remote control. A man and a woman were arguing loudly in a pub on the screen. As the nurse reached the door she said, ‘Oh, hello, you have a visitor!'

Conor Molloy came into the room holding a spray of flowers and a massive wicker gift basket of fruit. ‘Hi,' he said. ‘You about to eat? I'll come back.'

‘No – stay, please. Hey, what's all this?'

He blushed. ‘I – er – I –' Then he grinned. ‘I mugged an old lady in the lift.'

She grinned back. ‘They're gorgeous – thank you.'

‘I'll ask the nurse – see if I, if she can get a vase or something. How you doing?'

‘OK – apart from my voice.'