out of mischief?’ asked John Macmillan, coming out of his office and slapping a file into Jean’s in-tray. ‘Good to see you, Steven,’ he said, shaking hands. ‘It’s been a while.’ He turned back to Jean and said, ‘If you could get these out by tonight, I’d be obliged.’
‘Yes, Sir John.’
Steven reflected on Macmillan’s knighthood as he followed him back into his office and closed the door. It had been granted in the New Year’s honours list and was, in his view, long overdue. Macmillan had always been his own man and had guarded Sci-Med’s autonomy over the years with a zeal that had irritated many in the corridors of power. Suggestions by the powerful that Sci-Med might back off in certain investigations when they came too close to home were always met with refusal and expressions of support for his people. He never excused or ignored any wrong-doing among the rich and powerful of the land and had, as a result, made many enemies along the way. He had once confided in Steven that certain individuals would move heaven and earth to stop him being recognised for Sci-Med’s achievements so Steven had been tickled pink to see Macmillan’s name come up in the honours list. He hoped that his own success in thwarting a potentially disastrous attack by Al-Qaeda on the UK and US government infrastructures might have helped pave the way for the award because he liked and respected the man enormously and had on several occasions in the past good cause to thank him for his backing when he personally had ruffled the feathers of the establishment.
Steven had been on leave for the past two months, recovering from traumas suffered in his last assignment and regaining fitness at a military camp in North Wales through an arrangement with his old regiment.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fit and well,’ replied Steven.
‘Jean said you were up in Scotland when she contacted you?’
‘I was up seeing Jenny.’
‘How is she?’
‘I think I’ve just had a glimpse of the terrible teens to come.’
‘Oh dear,’ smiled Macmillan. ‘Girls are always so much more trouble than boys in my experience.’
‘So people keep telling me.’
Macmillan settled back in his chair, looking every inch the Whitehall mandarin, tanned, smooth skin belying his sixty odd years, silver hair swept back, confidence oozing from every pore. He looked at Steven for a moment before saying, ‘Nothing too serious I hope?’
‘Not in the great scheme of things, I suppose. It was just a bit of a shock to discover that she no longer sees me as her knight in shining armour who appears out of the mist from time to time bearing gifts and telling tales of fighting evil. She now sees me as a flawed human being who chose to abandon her in a far-off land.’
Macmillan smiled and said, ‘I’m sure that’s not true but it sounds like something all fathers in your position have to go through. The irony is that if you really had abandoned her and she never saw you at all, she’d regard you as a saint and make all sorts of excuses for you.’
‘I suppose.’
‘Don’t let it get you down. You’ve always had Jenny’s best interests at heart. She’s always been a much loved little girl. I remember celebrating her birth in this very office.’
Steven nodded, anxious that the conversation should move on.
Macmillan flipped open a file on his desk. ‘Dr Scott Haldane, aged thirty-five, general practitioner in a family practice in Edinburgh – at least he was until he took his own life, leaving a wife and two young children behind.’
Steven screwed up his face. ‘Thirty-five? No age at all. What’s our interest?’
‘I’m not sure that we have one but … it’s possible. His wife is absolutely adamant that he did not commit suicide.’
‘Not an uncommon reaction,’ said Steven. ‘It must be a very hard thing to come to terms with.’
‘Well, she apparently has no intention at all of accepting it. She insists that her husband
‘Yes, Sir John.’
Steven reflected on Macmillan’s knighthood as he followed him back into his office and closed the door. It had been granted in the New Year’s honours list and was, in his view, long overdue. Macmillan had always been his own man and had guarded Sci-Med’s autonomy over the years with a zeal that had irritated many in the corridors of power. Suggestions by the powerful that Sci-Med might back off in certain investigations when they came too close to home were always met with refusal and expressions of support for his people. He never excused or ignored any wrong-doing among the rich and powerful of the land and had, as a result, made many enemies along the way. He had once confided in Steven that certain individuals would move heaven and earth to stop him being recognised for Sci-Med’s achievements so Steven had been tickled pink to see Macmillan’s name come up in the honours list. He hoped that his own success in thwarting a potentially disastrous attack by Al-Qaeda on the UK and US government infrastructures might have helped pave the way for the award because he liked and respected the man enormously and had on several occasions in the past good cause to thank him for his backing when he personally had ruffled the feathers of the establishment.
Steven had been on leave for the past two months, recovering from traumas suffered in his last assignment and regaining fitness at a military camp in North Wales through an arrangement with his old regiment.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fit and well,’ replied Steven.
‘Jean said you were up in Scotland when she contacted you?’
‘I was up seeing Jenny.’
‘How is she?’
‘I think I’ve just had a glimpse of the terrible teens to come.’
‘Oh dear,’ smiled Macmillan. ‘Girls are always so much more trouble than boys in my experience.’
‘So people keep telling me.’
Macmillan settled back in his chair, looking every inch the Whitehall mandarin, tanned, smooth skin belying his sixty odd years, silver hair swept back, confidence oozing from every pore. He looked at Steven for a moment before saying, ‘Nothing too serious I hope?’
‘Not in the great scheme of things, I suppose. It was just a bit of a shock to discover that she no longer sees me as her knight in shining armour who appears out of the mist from time to time bearing gifts and telling tales of fighting evil. She now sees me as a flawed human being who chose to abandon her in a far-off land.’
Macmillan smiled and said, ‘I’m sure that’s not true but it sounds like something all fathers in your position have to go through. The irony is that if you really had abandoned her and she never saw you at all, she’d regard you as a saint and make all sorts of excuses for you.’
‘I suppose.’
‘Don’t let it get you down. You’ve always had Jenny’s best interests at heart. She’s always been a much loved little girl. I remember celebrating her birth in this very office.’
Steven nodded, anxious that the conversation should move on.
Macmillan flipped open a file on his desk. ‘Dr Scott Haldane, aged thirty-five, general practitioner in a family practice in Edinburgh – at least he was until he took his own life, leaving a wife and two young children behind.’
Steven screwed up his face. ‘Thirty-five? No age at all. What’s our interest?’
‘I’m not sure that we have one but … it’s possible. His wife is absolutely adamant that he did not commit suicide.’
‘Not an uncommon reaction,’ said Steven. ‘It must be a very hard thing to come to terms with.’
‘Well, she apparently has no intention at all of accepting it. She insists that her husband
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