the technician.
‘Maybe I was a bit hasty in pushing the panic button,’ said Saxby. ‘She hasn’t been abroad for two years, and even then it was only bloody Majorca. I don’t think it can be what I thought it was. Bloody odd, though.’
‘So all this is unnecessary?’
‘Better safe than sorry.’
‘What about the samples you took?’
‘Send them to the lab in the usual way.’
‘And the shower?’
‘Won’t do you any harm.’
FIVE
Edinburgh
‘Yes, what is it, Jean?’ snapped Paul Grossart.
His secretary moved back involuntarily from the intercom, surprised at his tone of voice. A change had come over her boss in the last week or so. Ever since the Americans’ visit he had been preoccupied and on edge. ‘I have a Mr Brannan on the phone for you.’
‘I don’t know any Brannan, do I?’ asked Grossart.
‘He’s a journalist with the Scotsman . He wonders if he might have a few words.’
Grossart paused and swallowed hard before saying, ‘Put him through.’
‘Mr Grossart?’ said a friendly sounding voice. ‘Jim Brannan, science correspondent of the Scotsman .’
‘What can I do for you, Mr Brannan?’ said Grossart, adopting a neutral tone.
‘There’s a rumour doing the rounds that Lehman is making a big cut in its transgenic research initiative.’
‘What gives people that idea?’ asked Grossart defensively.
‘You paid off a number of staff at the end of last week.’
Grossart had to think fast. He hadn’t realised that this was a newsworthy event but it was a fact that Lehman had paid off a number of support staff engaged on the Snowball project whose services were no longer required. They were relatively low-grade, and none had been privy to the overall aims of the project, but a couple were part-qualified junior technicians and might have been able to figure out something. ‘We are a cutting-edge research company, Mr Brannan,’ said Grossart. ‘Our priorities constantly have to change with the ever-advancing state of scientific knowledge. The loss of jobs was simply the unfortunate fall-out from a course adjustment we had to make.’
‘So Lehman isn’t abandoning its transgenic animal work?’
‘We remain committed to exploring every avenue of medical research which will benefit mankind,’ replied Grossart.
‘I trust I can quote you on that,’ said Brannan sourly, thinking he could have found a better quote in a Christmas cracker.
‘Of course.’
‘It was a bit sudden, this “course adjustment”, wasn’t it?’
‘Not at all. We’d been considering it for some months.’
‘Right,’ said Brannan slowly, sounding less than convinced. ‘So nothing went wrong, then?’
‘Nothing at all,’ said Grossart.
The conversation ended and Grossart took several deep breaths before looking at his watch and doing a mental calculation. He punched the intercom button and said, ‘Get me Hiram Vance in Boston.’ He tapped nervously on the desk until the connection was made.
‘Paul, what can I do for you?’
‘They know,’ hissed Grossart hoarsely. ‘For Christ’s sake, Hiram, they know. I’ve just had the press on the phone asking about the shutdown of the Snowball project.’
‘Slow down, Paul,’ said Vance, sounding calm and controlled. ‘Just take it easy and tell me exactly what happened.’
Grossart gave him the details of his conversation with Brannan.
‘Then what the hell are you worried about?’ said Vance. ‘You said exactly the right thing and it’s my guess that will be an end to it.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Grossart hesitantly.
‘Trust me,’ said Vance. ‘A story about a few guys losing their jobs isn’t exactly Watergate, is it? By tomorrow it’ll be yesterday’s news.’
‘Brannan knew they were working with transgenic animals.’
‘Who isn’t these days, in our line of business?’ said Vance. ‘Relax, Paul.’
‘If you say so.’
‘One thing worries me, though,’ said Vance, sounding less
‘Maybe I was a bit hasty in pushing the panic button,’ said Saxby. ‘She hasn’t been abroad for two years, and even then it was only bloody Majorca. I don’t think it can be what I thought it was. Bloody odd, though.’
‘So all this is unnecessary?’
‘Better safe than sorry.’
‘What about the samples you took?’
‘Send them to the lab in the usual way.’
‘And the shower?’
‘Won’t do you any harm.’
FIVE
Edinburgh
‘Yes, what is it, Jean?’ snapped Paul Grossart.
His secretary moved back involuntarily from the intercom, surprised at his tone of voice. A change had come over her boss in the last week or so. Ever since the Americans’ visit he had been preoccupied and on edge. ‘I have a Mr Brannan on the phone for you.’
‘I don’t know any Brannan, do I?’ asked Grossart.
‘He’s a journalist with the Scotsman . He wonders if he might have a few words.’
Grossart paused and swallowed hard before saying, ‘Put him through.’
‘Mr Grossart?’ said a friendly sounding voice. ‘Jim Brannan, science correspondent of the Scotsman .’
‘What can I do for you, Mr Brannan?’ said Grossart, adopting a neutral tone.
‘There’s a rumour doing the rounds that Lehman is making a big cut in its transgenic research initiative.’
‘What gives people that idea?’ asked Grossart defensively.
‘You paid off a number of staff at the end of last week.’
Grossart had to think fast. He hadn’t realised that this was a newsworthy event but it was a fact that Lehman had paid off a number of support staff engaged on the Snowball project whose services were no longer required. They were relatively low-grade, and none had been privy to the overall aims of the project, but a couple were part-qualified junior technicians and might have been able to figure out something. ‘We are a cutting-edge research company, Mr Brannan,’ said Grossart. ‘Our priorities constantly have to change with the ever-advancing state of scientific knowledge. The loss of jobs was simply the unfortunate fall-out from a course adjustment we had to make.’
‘So Lehman isn’t abandoning its transgenic animal work?’
‘We remain committed to exploring every avenue of medical research which will benefit mankind,’ replied Grossart.
‘I trust I can quote you on that,’ said Brannan sourly, thinking he could have found a better quote in a Christmas cracker.
‘Of course.’
‘It was a bit sudden, this “course adjustment”, wasn’t it?’
‘Not at all. We’d been considering it for some months.’
‘Right,’ said Brannan slowly, sounding less than convinced. ‘So nothing went wrong, then?’
‘Nothing at all,’ said Grossart.
The conversation ended and Grossart took several deep breaths before looking at his watch and doing a mental calculation. He punched the intercom button and said, ‘Get me Hiram Vance in Boston.’ He tapped nervously on the desk until the connection was made.
‘Paul, what can I do for you?’
‘They know,’ hissed Grossart hoarsely. ‘For Christ’s sake, Hiram, they know. I’ve just had the press on the phone asking about the shutdown of the Snowball project.’
‘Slow down, Paul,’ said Vance, sounding calm and controlled. ‘Just take it easy and tell me exactly what happened.’
Grossart gave him the details of his conversation with Brannan.
‘Then what the hell are you worried about?’ said Vance. ‘You said exactly the right thing and it’s my guess that will be an end to it.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Grossart hesitantly.
‘Trust me,’ said Vance. ‘A story about a few guys losing their jobs isn’t exactly Watergate, is it? By tomorrow it’ll be yesterday’s news.’
‘Brannan knew they were working with transgenic animals.’
‘Who isn’t these days, in our line of business?’ said Vance. ‘Relax, Paul.’
‘If you say so.’
‘One thing worries me, though,’ said Vance, sounding less
Similar Books
