The Lazarus Strain by Ken McClure

door opened and John Macmillan passed through the office with a face like thunder. ‘Brains in their backsides,’ he muttered to no one in particular before closing his office door.
    ‘Life’s rich pattern,’ murmured Jean.
    ‘Sci-Med . . . an everyday story of scientific folk . . .’ said Steven. ‘Do you think he noticed me?’
    Jean shrugged and showed the palms of her hands. She pressed the intercom button and said in her business voice, ‘Steven Dunbar is here, sir.’
    ‘Send him in.’
    ‘Idiots,’ said Macmillan as Steven closed the door behind him. ‘They open Pandora’s Box and then show me a piece of paper to demonstrate it was all perfectly legal and they’ve done no wrong. It’s not on the list,’ he mimicked in mincing tones. Not on the list! They should be on the list of the certifiably insane. Whatever happened to common sense in this country?’
    ‘I have this theory that says it was wiped out and replaced by political correctness some time in the early nineties,’ replied Steven. ‘Sounds as if you’ve found out just what kind of flu virus Devon was really working with.’
    ‘Unbelievable!’
    ‘Was this solely a DOH initiative?’ asked Steven.
    ‘Hard to say. They’re passing the buck like the parcel at a kids’ party,’ said Macmillan. ‘But, reading between the lines, I think getting Devon to work on a vaccine against the 1918 strain was seen as being “far sighted” and “imaginative”. Your man, Nigel Lees, apparently had a conversation with some chap from the World Health Organisation who convinced him he might get brownie points for initiative if he commissioned work on a new vaccine against bird flu.’
    ‘I suppose he might have done if the work hadn’t been assigned to a small institute in Norfolk without the proper lab facilities; one which was vulnerable to outside attack by animal rights extremists,’ said Steven.
    ‘According to Lees, thought was given to the need for heightened security surrounding the storage of such a virus on the premises. Cambodia 5 virus wasn’t kept with the other viruses in the deep freeze. It was stored separately in a safe similar to the sort used on nuclear submarines to store launch codes: two keys were required to open it. Of course, in this case, it also had to be kept at low temperature.’
    ‘Who was the other key-holder?’
    ‘It had to be someone outside the institute to guard against the risk of terrorist attack so DOH held the second key. When Devon needed access to live virus he would call DOH and the second key holder would come out to the institute accompanied by security people.’
    ‘But when it came to testing the new vaccine it had to be done in live animals rather than locked safes,’ said Steven.
    ‘And that’s when it all went tragically wrong.’
    ‘Presumably the virus itself is still in that safe?’
    ‘I’ve never been keen on presumption. Maybe you could check that out?’ said Macmillan.
    ‘Will do,’ said Steven. ‘Did you manage to get anything out of them about the Elwoods?’
    Macmillan nodded. ‘It’s pretty much as you suspected. Harry Elwood didn’t feel well so they are keeping both him and his wife under surveillance for the time being.’
    ‘And the escaped animal?’
    ‘The army are still hunting it.’
     
    * * * * *
     
    ‘And tonight’s lucky winner in the police computer draw of the week for red-headed suspects is . . . could I have drum roll please?’
    ‘Get on with it,’ said Morley to his friend and fellow sergeant, Keith Barnes in the criminal records section.
    ‘Kevin Shanks, aged twenty-four, drop-out from Liverpool University, two illegal substance convictions and three for breach of the peace at hunt meetings. A member of the animal rights movement since 1999. Lives in Norwich . . . and has long red hair.’
    ‘Address?
    ‘Last known address at time of arrest seven months ago was a shared flat in Elton Road, number sixteen.’
    ‘You’re a star Barnesy.