Crisis by Ken McClure Page A

professional help with this affair.’
    ‘ I would be happy to help you with the lab work if that’s what you mean,’ said Bannerman.
    ‘Actually, it isn’t,’ said Flowers. ‘What we would like, would be for you to investigate this whole matter.’
    Bannerman was taken aback and left speechless for a few moments.
    Flowers said, ‘We need a first-rate pathologist to go up to Scotland and report back. We have to know; one, if the men’s deaths were really due to Scrapie; two, what caused the disease to cross the species barrier; and three, whether or not we can regard this as an isolated incident.’
    ‘And it has to be done discreetly,’ added Allison.
    ‘Presumably no mention of Scrapie was made on the men’s death certificates?’ asked Bannerman.
    ‘No. The official cause of death was given as meningitis.’
    ‘What about the sheep in the area?’
    ‘The Scrapie -infected sheep were, of course, destroyed but there has been no general alert,’ said Allison. ‘That would have attracted immediate and unwanted attention.’
    ‘And you wouldn’t want to cause unnecessary alarm,’ added Bannerman, acidly.
    ‘You must see how delicate the situation is, Doc tor,’ said Allison.
    Reluctantly, Bannerman had to admit that he could. ‘But you must have a pathologist working on it already,’ he said. The man who reported the problem in the first place.’
    That’s another thing, I’m afraid,’ said Flowers. ‘Dr Gill has disappeared.’
    ‘Disappeared?’ exclaimed Bannerman.
    ‘He left home nine days ago and hasn’t been seen since.’
    ‘Some domestic upheaval, we’re told,’ said Munro.
    Bannerman shook his head in bemusement but didn’t know what to say. ‘Where is the pathology lab work being done?’ he asked.
    ‘Edinburgh, in George Stoddart’s department at the medical school,’ said Flowers.
    ‘Edinburgh is full of experts on Scrapie and slow viruses,’ said Bannerman, looking to Munro.
    ‘My people are scientists Doctor,’ said Munro. ‘We would give you all the back-up you required but the investigation calls for a medic.’
    ‘Insistent but discreet,’ added Allison. ‘I’m sure there’s no need to tell you what the press would make of this.’
    Bannerman sighed and looked down at the well- polished surface of the table.
    ‘We appreciate that you will need a little time to think this over,’ said Flowers, ‘but you must know that time is of the essence and we would have to ask for your decision by say, ten o’clock tomorrow?’
    ‘You’ll have it,’ said Bannerman. ‘Perhaps I should add that we would provide the hospital with a locum in your absence,’ said Flowers.
    Bannerman was about to say that he had intended to take some time off anyway but he thought better of it. His morale had been given an unexpected boost by what had been said about his professional reputation. He did not want to diminish the effects with talk of stress and strain.
    ‘Would you like me to call you a taxi, Doctor?’ asked the woman at the front desk as Bannerman prepared to leave. He looked out and saw that it had stopped raining. ‘I think I’ll walk for a bit,’ he replied.
    The air was damp and fiercely cold after the heat of the offices; for a moment it made his eyes water. He grimaced and pulled up his collar as he made his way down Park Crescent to cross Marylebone Road and continue down into Regent’s Park. The grass stretched before him like a wet, green desert below a leaden sky. What the hell was he to do? He wondered.
    An investigation of this importance was hardly a job for someone undergoing any kind of personal crisis but on the other hand the whole thing intrigued him deeply. It would be no picnic but at least, if he took up the investigation, he would be away from the pressures of the hospital and there would be no emergency diagnostic work for a while. He might even be able to do some winter climbing in Scotland after all.
    Bannerman was suddenly aware of a woman