Trauma (27 page)

'We did,' replied Tyndall.

'May I ask how?' said Sarah.

'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?' offered 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,' said Murdoch Tyndall 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 who 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 professors are a bit much for any one family.'

'Makes you believe in genetics,' smiled Sarah. She was about to follow Paddy to the food 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. He said, 'I don't think we finished our conversation, Doctor Lasseter.'

'Sarah felt a flush come to her cheeks. A prospective 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. It felt awfully close to betrayal of her father. She told Tyndall of her intention.

'That's a pity,' said Tyndall. 'My brother tells me that you are an exceptionally gifted Doctor. It would be a shame to see such potential go untapped.'

'That'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 working well,' he said before taking his first mouthful.

'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 as well as make 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 and said, 'Wouldn't dream of it. Playing gooseberry is not my style.' He smiled mischievously as he saw the anger flash again in Sarah's eyes. Sarah saw that he was baiting her so she calmed down and said, 'Enough! I'm hungry.'

For once, John Main was lucky. There was no other obvious lead story for the local evening paper to go for. No one had been murdered or raped in the city that day. Banks and sub post-offices had remained inviolate and nothing substantial had gone on fire. The only national story was the latest wrangle over EEC farming subsidies - not a natural for a city local. The first edition of the paper led with a council tenant 'slamming' the council over dampness in his flat but 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. There was a second photograph, this time of the burnt out wreck of the car the men had died in. 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.

The final paragraph of the story was what pleased Main most. It included an eye witness report of the car fire. Main had not known about this. The paper must have sent out a reporter to ask around the houses near the scene of the fire. He had come up trumps. Mrs Katherine Donaldson had been leaving her house to go shopping when she had seen a car in the street outside her gate explode. 'It was terrible,' she said. 'There was a loud bang that shook her windows and flames shot out from the car. There was glass everywhere. No one got out.'

Main felt a glow of satisfaction. He was now convinced the fire had been no accident. The men had been murdered. He called Ryan Lafferty and asked him if he’d seen the story.

'No. What do they say?' asked Lafferty.

Main told him and Lafferty whistled softly. 'That should shake the police up,' he said. 'You did well.'

'I was lucky.'

'So now we wait and see what happens,' said Lafferty.

'The nice thing is I think the papers are obliged to follow this up. That will keep the pressure on the police.'

'Excellent,' said Lafferty. 'How are you feeling?'

'Better,' replied Main. 'A lot better.'

'Good.'

'I'm thinking of going back to work,' said Main.

'I'm delighted to hear it,' said Lafferty. It's about time.'

Main smiled at Lafferty's directness and said, 'You're right. I want to thank you,' he said.

'There's nothing to thank me for,' said Lafferty.

'Yes there is,' countered Main. 'I was on the verge of giving up hope and you stopped me. Things are beginning to happen and it's down to you. I think we're going to get to the bottom of this.'

'I hope so,' said Lafferty. 'But what I said in the beginning still goes. I'm sure your son's soul has been in no danger.'

'I just wish I could believe that, Ryan,' said Main.

'I know. Get some sleep,' said Lafferty kindly.

Main decided against wearing a suit; he felt that it would be too formal and might suggest that he was being interviewed for his own job. He opted instead for a sports jacket and cord trousers, checked shirt and university tie. Casual but acceptably establishment. He parked the car outside the school entrance and walked up the gravel drive past the playing fields where the third year was at rugby practice. Hargreave, the principal teacher of physical education was cajoling them into cohesive action instead of individual bids for glory. 'Pass it you clown!' yelled the track-suited man as a large fair haired boy was caught in possession. 'That's what team mates are for!'

'Yes sir,' mumbled the boy as he got to his feet and looked down at them.

'Rugby is a team game, boy! Life is a team game!'

'Well, that's taken care of that,' thought Main as he turned away and continued up the drive. The bottom line to centuries of philosophy had just been supplied by Hargreave. Why didn't they ask him in the first place? he wondered.

After the five minute obligatory wait - important people never saw you immediately- the headmaster welcomed Main with a handshake and the offer of sherry. Main declined politely, fearing it might be a test of his sobriety, a paranoid thought born of guilt about his less than sober habits of the past few weeks.

'How are you feeling Main?'

'Much better, Headmaster, thank you.'

'A bad business all round,' said the headmaster sagely.'

Main remained impassive, wondering if the headmaster had made a study of old war films.

'I understand you feel well enough to come back to us?'

'Yes sir, I'd like to if that's all right with you?'

'Well, naturally, we'd all be delighted to see you back,' began the headmaster. 'But are you sure you're well enough? You've been through an awful lot lately, more than any man should have to contend with and we all feel for you. Mr Close was just saying as much yesterday.'

'Yesterday?' asked Main, suddenly suspicious of an uneasiness that had crept into the headmaster's manner.

'There was a meeting yesterday of the board of governors and with the newspaper story and all - it couldn't have come at a worse time really - you were very much in everyone's mind.'

'I see,' said Main cautiously.

' All this witchcraft business and now the suggestion of murder being bandied about and everything coming on top of the loss of your poor wife, well ... we all felt that it might be for the best if you were to take your time about coming back. Maybe go on extended leave until this whole unfortunate thing is cleared up.'

'You mean it's all a bit embarrassing for the board of governors?' said Main flatly.

'That's a bit unkind Main,' said the headmaster, looking hurt.

'But accurate,' countered Main.

The headmaster leaned forward and spread his hands on the desk. He said, 'The governors have to consider the parents John and they are the most fickle and delicate of creatures at the best of times. With the recession biting deeply, recruitment figures for the school are on a knife edge. Next year will be touch and go. We have to avoid ...' The headmaster searched the air for a word ... 'Association of the school with any kind of ... unpleasantness.

'I see,' said Main tersely.

'This business about exploding cars and burning bodies smacks of ... criminality.'

'A side of life you would rather the pupils at this school knew nothing about,' said Main.

'I really expected better from you, Main,' said the headmaster looking hurt again. 'I thought you would see sense.'

'I do Headmaster. I see it very clearly. So I'm suspended? Or would you prefer that I resigned?'

'There's no question of that Main,' said the headmaster. 'Let's just give it some time and with any luck this whole business will be behind us by the end of term.'

'And if it isn't?'

The headmaster spread his hands on the desk again and looked apologetic. 'Then you must do what you feel is right John, what's right for the school as well as anyone else.'