Mona was losing grasp of time. Once they’d left London and turned onto the motorway, the drive had grown increasingly monotonous, without buildings or landmarks to relieve the tedium. She felt like she’d been staring at the same dark nothingness for ever, but her watch showed 2am, which meant they’d only been driving for two hours. She wasn’t sure she could bear another five hours of this.
Greg seemed to sense her boredom. ‘Feel free to fall asleep. I won’t be offended.’
‘Thanks, but I’m too wound up.’ Her bones were weary and aching, but her mind was racing, struggling to process the events of the last two days. Some shut-eye would be good. At the moment the obstacles in their way seemed huge, and her mind was already worrying about the fallout of their trip once they were safely back in Edinburgh. Sleep, in her experience, tended to bring perspective; a couple of hours’ solid snoozing and she’d be ready to deal with whatever else this journey would throw at her.
‘I could turn the radio on if you like?’
‘Nah. Don’t want to disturb either of our sleeping beauties.’ The professor and Paterson were sound asleep on the back seat, their heads lolling from side to side as the car purred along the empty roads.
‘It’s been an eventful few days . . .’
Mona sensed this was the start of a conversation, and felt grateful to Greg for making the effort. From his point of view, it must be bad enough having to drive them through the night, without having to keep her entertained as well. ‘Yeah. Thanks so much for your help. We’d definitely not have got this far without you, and I know you didn’t want to get dragged into all this.’
‘No, it’s all right. Doing things you don’t really want to do comes with the territory of being a cop. I’m more worried about Liz getting caught up in all this.’
‘Sorry. I really liked Liz. I take it she’s your girlfriend?’
‘Sort of. We’re very different, as I’m sure you saw. So we get along for a bit, then I’ll say something about the difficulties for the police of responding to the Virus and we have a huge argument, and it’s all off again.’
Mona wondered if Greg was any less difficult to live with than his father. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re friends at the moment, because she did us a pretty massive favour.’
‘Yep. And she was happy to do so. As she said, she’s a huge fan of the prof.’
‘You didn’t know that before you took us there?’
‘No. I should listen more carefully to what Liz is ranting about.’ He laughed. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d have given it a miss if I’d known. Liz can be a bit of a nightmare when she’s on her soapbox. She’d get herself into all kinds of trouble just to prove a point of principle.’
‘What do you know about the Health Collective that she’s involved with? Is it all legal?’
‘Oh yeah, despite our words back there it is all legitimate trade union stuff. Are they not active in Scotland?’
‘Not that I’m aware of.’
‘Well, according to Liz, the Health Collective thinks the sun shines out of the prof’s nether regions. She gave me a pretty thorough run-down of his good points when she was shouting at me in the hall earlier.’
‘Oh yeah?’ said Mona, intrigued. ‘And what are they?’
‘Well, her agitator mates think he’s the only person who is actually admitting there is a problem. The politicians have agreed their consensus approach to the Virus, which is great in terms of letting the scientists and everyone get on with trying to tackle the problem, but it does mean that they all stick to the line that everything is under control. And the State of Emergency means there’s a limit to how much the unions and voluntary sector can do without getting into trouble. Liz is always complaining about the ban on demonstrations, for example, not even allowing immune people to gather in big groups. But she says Bircham-Fowler stands up and tells it like it is.’
‘Like it is? And what exactly is it like?’
‘Well, I’ll give you one example. Liz is always banging on about the monthly Health Checks being too far apart to do any good. And that’s one of Bircham-Fowler’s hobby horses. He’d have them weekly if it was up to him.’
‘He’s not wrong on that one. By the time someone ends up on our desk, assuming the referral doesn’t get lost in the system which it frequently does, it’s five weeks since they had a Health Check, then it can take us a couple of weeks to find them. That’s a long time for someone to be out there, possibly infectious. Add into that the fact that they’re sharing needles or sleeping rough . . .’
‘Yup, a health disaster waiting to happen. But where would the resources come from to increase the HET team four-fold to enforce a weekly regime?’
‘Is that the kind of thing you say to Liz that gets you into trouble?’
He threw his head back and laughed. ‘Yes, that’s exactly the kind of thing that gets me into trouble.’
Mona smiled. Despite the situation, Greg’s laughter was infectious.
‘I do love Liz, but sometimes I think she is so naïve. The government didn’t make up the State of Emergency with the sole mission of stopping dissent. There really is a Code Black emergency going on. But then I remember that she and her colleagues are right at the sharp end of all this. They’re the ones with people coughing and spluttering all over them, and people dying in their arms. And with the unions muzzled, no one’s speaking for them.’
She nodded. Like Greg, she could see both points of view. ‘So this thing with Liz, is it on or off at the moment?’
‘It was all off, and to be honest I thought she might tell me to sling my hook when I phoned up to ask a favour.’
‘Lucky for us she’s a forgiving sort.’
‘She’s great. And I think she was quite impressed to have the professor to stay, so maybe I’m back in the good books. Was my dad asking if Liz and I were together?’
‘I think he did wonder. I take it you haven’t mentioned her to him?’
‘Nope. None of his business.’ He looked over at her. ‘Do you think I’m being harsh with him?’
‘Don’t ask me. I’m still struggling to picture the Guv as somebody’s dad. What was he like when you were growing up?’
‘Absent a lot of the time, but you know what police work is like. Pretty strict when he was there. So, in classic bitter child of first family style, it irks me a bit when I hear about him playing football with his younger kids, and going to school concerts and stuff. My brother and I would have liked a bit more of that.’
‘He must have done something right. After all, you followed him into the force.’
‘I suppose. So, have you got it all sussed with your folks?’
She laughed, softly. ‘Hardly. I’m the world’s worst when it comes to dealing with parents. I’ve only very recently got round to telling my mum that I’m gay.’
There was the sound of spluttering from the back seat. Mona turned round and stared at her boss. Paterson’s eyes were still closed, and he was sitting perfectly still, not even apparently breathing. His impersonation of a sleeping man was fooling no one.
Professor Bircham-Fowler’s head lolled to one side, and bumped against the side of the car. Mona thought she saw his eyes flutter, his eyelashes lifting for a second before returning to rest. A moment later a lengthy fart emanated from his direction. Paterson used this as a pretext to waken up, continuing to ham it up with some look-I’ve-just-woken-up stretches.
‘Think he’s starting to come to.’ Paterson gave him a gentle prod. ‘Professor?’
There was no response. Bircham-Fowler’s head flopped back against the leather, and he started to snore again.
‘Try him again in half an hour, Guv. I’m sure I saw his eyes nearly open.’ She turned round, smiling, wondering if Greg had caught the charade on the backseat. To her surprise, he was staring at the road, his face creased with concern.
‘Trouble?’
‘I think we’ve got company.’ He nodded toward the back of the car. She turned, and saw another set of headlights about twenty feet behind them. It was the only other car in sight.
‘That car’s been keeping pace with us. It’s a pretty quiet road and I’ve been speeding up and slowing down, but it’s not shown any interest in overtaking us.’
‘Have they been following us ever since we left Liz’s?’ asked Paterson.
‘I don’t think so. It’s only about twenty minutes since I started noticing them.’
‘But we’re in an unmarked police car. If they haven’t been tailing us since Liz’s how would they have found us?’
‘I don’t know.’ His tone was defensive. ‘I deliberately didn’t use my own car in case they’d clocked it earlier.’
‘Someone could have told them.’ Paterson peered over his shoulder. ‘An inside leak?’
‘I don’t think anyone other than my boss knows about this little jaunt at my end. He was making noises about this being a discreet operation so I’m pretty sure he’ll have been warned not to discuss it.’
‘So, what do we do now?’ asked Mona. ‘Try and shake them off?’
‘Pretty much impossible if they already know where we are going.’
‘You could try putting some distance in between us and them.’
Greg clicked his teeth as he thought about the options. ‘I don’t want to speed. If they are police it gives them a perfect excuse to pull us over.’ He looked again in his rear-view mirror. ‘In fact, I’m pretty keen not to find out what happens if we stop.’
‘You think they’d try to arrest us?’
‘Possibly, if “they” are the police. After all, all they need to do is keep the Prof detained long enough to miss his check, which is less than ten hours away now. Any copper worth his salt could come up with enough excuses to detain him for three or four hours at least.’
‘They wouldn’t have grounds to arrest him.’
‘No, not legitimate ones, and it wouldn’t be easy for them to arrest on some made-up charge, what with me being a serving MET officer, on official business . . . but like I say, all they need to do is hold us up for a good long while.’
‘And what if they’re not police?’
‘I think we have to assume that it wouldn’t end well.’
They drove in silence for a few seconds, each thinking about the possibilities. Mona’s mind was coming up with scenario after scenario. They could be driven off the road. They could be forced to a halt, and the professor kidnapped. They could all be detained, by persons unknown. She wished again that she’d had some sleep, to help her sort out the likely from the fantasy.
‘Dad?’
‘Yeah?’ Paterson was fully engaged in staring at the headlights of the car behind them.
‘We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. Maybe you should phone your boss and ask for instructions. I know you don’t want to use your phone in case it’s being hacked, so why don’t you use mine.’ He handed it to him. ‘Less chance that anyone has messed around with that.’
Paterson sighed. ‘Fair enough. After all, Stuttle got us into this, so he can tell us what to do next. If we’re really lucky he might even tell us what’s actually going on here.’
Mona and Greg listened to the one-sided phone conversation. The monosyllables used by Paterson gave little away about the content of the conversation. When he hung up, Mona was surprised to see a broad grin on his face.
‘These cars are incredibly easy to hack, according to Stuttle. They’ve all got a chip in them to allow them to be traced if they’re stolen, and apparently if you are a technology geek who knows what you are doing you can hack into that. And Stuttle said, and I quote, he knew the MET idiots would be stupid enough to use a pool car, so he’s prepared for this eventuality.’
‘Has he prepared for the eventuality of this MET idiot dumping you all on the hard shoulder and leaving you to it?’
Mona leapt in. ‘How exactly has he prepared?’
‘He’s got a couple of guys driving south, even as we speak.’
‘Where are we meeting them?’
‘Locksbridge Services. Says it does a great full English.’
‘So we ditch the car and drive on with them?’
‘Even better, we deliver the professor into their tender care and they do the rest.’ He grinned. ‘Sorted.’
‘And did Mr Stuttle deign to tell us who is pursuing us up the M1, or give any indication why?’
‘You heard me ask those very questions, but all I got in return was an “all in good time, John”. But, as I said, our part in all this is coming to an end, thank Christ.’
‘We’re not there yet, Guv. These clowns following us could try something. And how are we even going to know who Stuttle’s people are? There’s lots that could—’
Her concerns were interrupted by a burst of flatulence from the back seat. She turned to see the professor staring at her wide-eyed.
‘It’s OK, Professor Bircham-Fowler, you are quite safe.’
Recognition came into his eyes, followed immediately by panic. He looked round the car. ‘Tess? Where is she?’
‘On her way back to Edinburgh, Professor,’ said Paterson. ‘Travelling in considerably more style than we are.’
‘And my daughter, please tell me she hasn’t come to any harm?’
‘She’s fine, Professor,’ said Greg. ‘Some of my MET colleagues are keeping an eye on her house.’
The professor sighed, and rubbed his temples with the palm of his hand.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘My head hurts. What happened to me?’
‘We think you were injected with a sedative.’
‘Poisoned? Oh, dear Lord. Dear, dear Lord.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve made a terrible mess of everything, haven’t I? I should never have taken off like this.’
‘I think you’ve been rather manipulated, Professor,’ said Paterson. ‘Anyone would have reacted the same way when they got that photograph. Your family has to come first.’
Greg snorted.
Mona jumped in before Patersons senior and junior started fighting again. ‘The events of the last few days indicate that you’ve upset someone. Any idea who that might be?’
‘I’ve absolutely no idea,’ said the professor, and sighed. ‘But I do agree that my reputation is under attack. O tempora! O mores!’
She looked at Greg, who shrugged. For the first time in their journey she wished Bernard was there. He would have got on with the prof like a house on fire, and his translation skills would have been useful.
‘O what, Professor?’
‘It means, what times we live in.’
Mona thought for a moment. ‘I’m still not quite sure what you mean.’
‘I mean, the world has gone mad. Since the Virus hit, all our values have been turned upside down. In the good old days you discredited academics by finding them with a rent boy. My entire career would have been over with a Daily Mail exclusive entitled “Top Boffin in Kinky Gay Sex Scandal”.’
Paterson tutted. ‘Yup, read a few of those articles in my time.’
‘But nowadays, nobody would be either surprised or particularly bothered if I was homosexual. In fact, I would probably go up in the estimation of some of my students. No, in today’s Virus frenzy if you really want to ruin the career of a virologist the one thing that would guarantee it would be missing a Health Check.’
‘Well, that’s not going to happen, Professor,’ said Paterson, cheerfully. ‘We’re going to get you to that Health Check, and into the Parliament.’
Mona looked over at Greg, who was staring into his mirror again.
‘They’re speeding up,’ he said quietly.