Trauma (38 page)

Sarah smiled at his discomfort and said gently, 'It will be all right. Really it will.'

Lafferty finally gave in and nodded his agreement.

'Can I use your phone?'

'Of course.'

'I'd rather be alone,' said Sarah.

Lafferty got up and left the room.

Cyril Tyndall's secretary answered.

'May I speak to Professor Tyndall please? It's Dr Lasseter.'

'I'm sorry Doctor, I rather think he's just left . . . Oh no, hang on.'

Sarah could hear the woman calling out Tyndall's name in the background and then the receiver being picked up again. 'I've managed to catch him, Doctor,'

'Thank you,' said Sarah, looking at her watch. She hadn't realised it was getting late.

'Tyndall here,' said the voice.

'Professor? It's Sarah Lasseter. I must apologise for not having called you earlier. Please forgive my rudeness.'

'Not at all, Doctor. My brother explained the position to me. I quite understand.'

'I really am most disappointed Professor. I was so looking forward to renewing our acquaintance . . .' Sarah said it in what she hoped was a sexy sounding voice. 'I really am most interested in your work. It's absolutely fascinating.' Sarah screwed her face up in embarrassment at what she was doing. She couldn't remember feeling so stupid. But it appeared to be working.

'Really?' said Tyndall slowly as if he was weighing up the possibilities. 'I should be delighted to tell you more, Doctor. Perhaps we could meet sometime even if you won't be coming here to work?'

Sarah blew a silent kiss into the air and said, 'I was rather hoping you might suggest that,' she cooed.

'When would be convenient?' Tyndall asked, sounding more than a little flustered.'

'As soon as you like,' cooed Sarah, screwing up her face again. 'But you must be an awfully busy man . . .'

'My diary is rather full,' agreed Tyndall. 'Perhaps . . . we might be able to meet, well, outside working hours?'

'What an excellent idea,' said Sarah, offering up silent thanks again. How about this evening?'

There was a pause before Tyndall cleared his throat and said, 'This evening? I don't see why not. Could you perhaps come to my house?'

'Sounds perfect,' said Sarah, trying to keep a note of triumph out of her voice.

'I'm afraid I live outside the city,' said Tyndall.

'No problem,' said Sarah. 'I have a car.'

'Shall we say eight o'clock then?'

'Eight o'clock,' repeated Sarah and wrote down the address.

Sarah opened the door and called Lafferty back into the room. 'It worked. I'm going to see him this evening at his house.'

Lafferty didn't know whether to be pleased or apprehensive but smiled at Sarah's obvious enthusiasm.

'If I succeed in getting the key, I'll come back here and we can go to the Institute tonight,' said Sarah.

'You mustn't take risks Sarah. Apart from anything else, you have to think of your career. Not only are you leading the professor on, you are planning to commit the crime of breaking and entering.'

Sarah's elation suddenly died. She said, 'I wish you hadn't said that.'

'There's still time to change your mind,' said Lafferty.

'I'm going,' said Sarah firmly.

When it was time to leave, Lafferty saw Sarah out to her car and wished her luck. He warned her once again not to take any unnecessary risks and she moved off with a last assurance and a wave of her hand. He stood for a moment by the kerb after her car had disappeared round the corner, wishing in his heart that she wasn't going.

Sarah made her way out on to the city by-pass and picked up speed as she joined it from the slip road with a quick glance over her shoulder. With the car comfortably settled at sixty five and the traffic light at seven fifteen in the evening, she relaxed a little and turned on the radio. She changed station three times before finding some music she liked. She didn't know the name of the piece but she did know it was Mozart.

As her Fiesta ate up the miles she gave thanks for the by-pass which took her all the way round the outside of the city and brought her to the coast road which she joined at the small village of Longniddry. Her speed dropped considerably on the winding road that now traced the shoreline eastwards but a glance at her watch told her she still had plenty of time to reach the coastal town where Tyndall lived by eight o'clock.

Although it was dark, the night was clear and there was no sign of the rain promised by the local weather forecast at six o'clock. At five minutes to eight she found the road where Tyndall lived and started looking for the house.

The Elms was a large, detached Victorian villa which looked less than welcoming on a dark night. Apart from a dim porch light, there was no sign of a light on in the rest of the house. This puzzled Sarah but there was no mistake; this was the house. Its name was etched into the stone pillar that supported a gate that had obviously not been closed for many a long year. She locked her car and walked up the gravel path leading to the front door. There was a large, brass bell-push on the wall. She pushed it and heard it ring somewhere inside. After a few moments, she heard footsteps and felt her throat tighten with nerves. Cyril Tyndall opened the door.

'Dr Lasseter, how nice,' he said extending his hand. Sarah shook it and found it moist. Tyndall was nervous too.

'I thought we might talk down here,' said Tyndall, leading the way from the main entrance hall down a wide, carpeted flight of stairs to the basement rooms. This was why she couldn't see a light on from outside, thought Sarah. Tyndall opened a white painted door and ushered her inside. She found herself in a long low room, comfortably furnished as a sitting room and welcomingly warm after the outside temperature.

'I live alone,' explained Tyndall. 'It makes more sense for me to use the basement rooms. They're easier and more economical to heat.

'It's a big house,' said Sarah. Nervousness made her smile a little wider than usual.

'It was our family house,' said Tyndall. 'Murdoch and I were brought up here.'

'I see,' said Sarah.

'A drink, Dr Lasseter? Or may I call you Sarah?'

'Please do,' said Sarah, although it did little to put her at her ease. She really didn't like rooms that had no windows. 'Gin and tonic would be nice.'

She watched Tyndall pour her a very large drink and thought, what an amateur. Here was a professor and a potential Nobel Prize winner behaving like a sneaky teenage boy. She accepted the glass with a smile and took a small sip.

Tyndall poured himself a small malt whisky, added a little water and sat down on the chair beside her which he pulled a little closer. 'Now Doc . . . Sarah, what would you like to know about my research?'

'Everything,' smiled Sarah. 'The development of the vaccine is such an enormous achievement. There are so many questions I'd like to ask; I just don't know where to begin.'

Tyndall gave a half smile as if he hadn't anticipated this response. Sarah noticed that he was sweating along his top lip. His eyes had taken on a flint like quality which alarmed her a little. She had counted on Tyndall continuing to behave like a shy, awkward schoolboy. Maybe this wasn't going to be the case.

'How exactly did you identify the virus trigger?' she asked.

Tyndall looked a little reluctant to talk about work and Sarah wondered if she had overdone the sexy voice in the phone conversation. She was anxious to get things back on an even keel. Eventually Tyndall said, 'Using a new technique which we developed in the lab, we managed to isolate undisrupted viral DNA in its latent form. From that we sequenced the upstream DNA and from that, we identified a protein which bound reversibly to this sequence. When the protein was absent, the virus was free to replicate and cause an active infection. When the protein reappeared and bound tightly to the sequence, the virus was inactivated. We went to work in the lab and designed an enzyme that would bind irreversibly to the trigger sequence.'

'Brilliant,' said Sarah. 'But how could you be sure that the binding was irreversible?'

Once again, Tyndall looked at Sarah strangely. 'Tissue culture,' he said. 'We challenged the virus in tissue culture.'

'I don't know too much about tissue culture Professor. What little I know suggests that it's a technique of culturing human cells in glass bottles?'

'That's right,' said Tyndall.

'But is that really the same as testing the system in a human being?' asked Sarah.

'Not really,' said Tyndall as if the reply didn't matter. He was staring at Sarah in a way which made her regret having come. But she was here and she had a job to do, she told herself as Tyndall moved even closer. She got to her feet and said, 'Phew, it's hot in here. Do you mind if I take my jacket off?'

Tyndall's features suddenly relaxed and he said, 'Of course not. Let's both get more comfortable.' He took off his own jacket and tossed it carelessly over the couch. Sarah noticed his wallet sticking out of the inside pocket.

'That's better,' said Sarah sitting back down again.

'You've hardly touched your drink,' said Tyndall, nodding in the direction of her glass.

'Actually, I'm rather thirsty,' said Sarah, putting a hand to her throat. 'I don't suppose you have anything soft. Orange squash? Coke?'

Tyndall let a slight look of irritation betray him before he said, 'I think I have some orange in the fridge.'

Sarah felt an adrenaline surge, fuelled by fear as she watched Tyndall leave the room. This was her chance and she had to take it. With a supreme effort she overcame the nerves which threatened to paralyse her and picked up Tyndall's jacket to extract his wallet. Her fingers became thumbs as she searched through the contents, looking for the electronic key card. She was almost sick with apprehension before she found what she was looking for. A black and blue, plastic card marked, ENTACARD. She slipped it into the side pocket of her skirt and stuffed the wallet back into Tyndall's jacket. Her pulse was still racing when he returned carrying a glass of orange. She accepted it with a Miss World smile and hoped that he hadn't noticed that her hand was shaking. Tyndall watched her like an owl eyeing up a mouse as she drank the juice.

'Better?' he asked.

'Much,' smiled Sarah. 'What I don't understand Professor is how you managed to do field trials on your vaccine. Surely if . . .' Sarah ground to a halt as Tyndall put his hand on her knee. 'Later,' he croaked.

Sarah gripped his hand and pulled it off her knee. 'I think you are presuming too much Professor,' she said, hoping to rebuff him but still keep everything on a civil basis. She was now very afraid. She had totally underestimated Tyndall and she was now alone with him in the basement of a big house.

Tyndall's eyes flashed with anger. 'I don't think so,' he murmured, moving ever closer. 'We both know why you came here so cut out the silly games. You want me . . . I want you, so let's stop teasing, shall we? '

Sarah felt her knee being gripped so hard it hurt and she let out a little cry.

'What a nice sound,' murmured Tyndall, now almost on top of her. 'So feminine, so inviting . . .'

'Get off me!' cried Sarah. She could smell Tyndall's breath as his face bore down on hers. She struggled but he was proving too strong for her. He had hold of both her wrists and was pulling her up off the chair. 'We'll be more comfortable here,' he gasped. He was breathing heavily when he pushed her down on to the couch and smothered her with his own body. She could feel the roughness of his beard on her cheek as he reached down with his right hand to start pulling up her skirt. She heard the material tear and her legs become free.

Sarah beat against Tyndall's back with her one free hand but it was useless. Her anger was now interspersed with sobbing and pleading. 'Get off me, you animal,' she gasped, as she felt his right knee wedge itself between her legs, forcing them apart.

Tyndall paused for a moment to lift his head and look down at Sarah. 'I've heard that some women like it rough,' he snarled. 'So be it.'

Sarah could not believe that she had been so wrong about the man. She simply could not believe that the beast on top of her was the shy, seemingly ineffectual little man she had met at the hospital reception. The shyness must have been a mask for arrogance, the diffidence really contempt for everyone around him. If only she had heeded Ryan's warning. She cried out as Tyndall bit her right breast through her blouse and forced his hand into her crotch to tear away her underwear.

* * * * *

Lafferty looked at his watch and saw that only half an hour had gone by. He couldn't relax; he had done little else but pace up and down since Sarah's departure. The worst of it was that he didn't know why he felt so uneasy. After all, Sarah was probably right; she was a grown woman; she knew what she was doing. Once again he failed to convince himself as he looked at his watch yet again. The thought that he didn't even know where she had gone occurred to him and made him feel even worse if that were possible. He had been out of the room when Sarah had made the phone call so he had not heard her repeat an address. This fact niggled away at him for the next five minutes until he thought of something he could do. He remembered a Boy Scout trick from long time ago. You could sometimes find out what had been written on a piece of paper by lightly shading the piece under it on the pad. Sarah had written the address down on his phone pad.