Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [83]
Hutch tried not to let his face show a thing.
The policeman tried again. ‘Is it somebody local, or someone passing through?’
Again, Hutch stood silent.
‘Am I going to have to take this higher?’
‘It seems so. Officer, if you had paid for me to protect your privacy, I expect you would want me to keep my word?’
The policeman was exasperated now. He turned to go. ‘I will be consulting my superiors. I’d rather you didn’t leave the premises, Mr Hutchinson. I may be back before too long.’
‘Certainly, Officer,’ said Hutch. ‘I was not planning to go out anyway, and that is why I will be here. I think that if you ask your superiors you will find that you have no more right to restrict my movements than you have to demand the information you desire. We will talk again when you have satisfied yourself as to the legal position.’
The policeman left, muttering under his breath. He was fed up with Hutch and his pomposity. What right had he to be so proud, when he’d taken in that kid – the son of a killer?
Chapter 40
CONSPIRATORS
‘What do you mean, a complication?’ shouted Mr Bennett.
Mrs Langford tried to explain. ‘There’s a boy,’ she said calmly. ‘He’s come here from Stambleton. He’s Winnie Swanson’s son. He’s been looking for me.’
‘What! How on earth did he find you?’
‘I don’t know. But he’s coming to this room at any moment, and we’re ready for him.’
Johnny could imagine her motioning towards the deadly drug waiting on the desk.
‘Look, I don’t need to be part of anything like that,’ said Bennett. ‘You deal with the boy. Give me the next batch of vaccine and you can have your share of the money for the last lot. Get a move on. I don’t want to hang around.’
‘Here’s the box,’ said Howell.
There were two thuds on the desk. Bennett had thrown down a couple of packets of money. ‘There you are. Not a bad piece of work, eh? The whole batch gone. You were right, Marie. We can hook in customers every way. We can play on them as rebels who want something illegal; or as social climbers after something no one else has got; or as anxious parents worried that their babies might get sick. I tell you, by the time I’ve finished with them, they’re scared not to buy it. I could do with those leaflets you promised me, though. I need to make the medical details more convincing. Some people prefer things in black and white.’
‘Here they are,’ said Mrs Langford. ‘It’s word-for-word what they say in France. She declaimed the first sentence grandly: ‘Faites préserver vos enfants contre la tuberculose par le vaccin BCG … Save your children from TB with the BCG vaccine. I’ve copied out the whole thing – except for this bit here, of course.’
Bennett read out a sentence in a schoolboy French accent. ‘Délivré gratuitement par l’institut Pasteur sur demande du médecin ou de la sage-femme.’
Mrs Langford translated it for him: ‘Delivered for free by the Pasteur Institute at the request of a doctor or midwife.’
Bennett laughed, but Howell was serious.
‘It should be free,’ he said. ‘I never wanted to charge for it.’ Bennett groaned as Howell continued, ‘This doesn’t feel right. I only helped Dr Langford because he wanted to save lives, and now we’re exploiting people.’
Johnny was beginning to work out what was going on. Perhaps he’d been wrong about Howell. Maybe he had never meant to get involved. It was Bennett who was at the heart of the sales scheme, and Bennett was so clever that he was even giving Howell and Mrs Langford some of the takings so they would share his guilt.
But Johnny shuddered when Mrs Langford’s voice broke in, with a sarcastic ring. ‘Forgive me, Doctor, but I don’t see you turning down your share of the proceeds. And why are you so high-minded about human life all of a sudden?’ Johnny heard her pick up a glass jar from the desk. ‘Look at this, Bennett,’ she hissed. ‘When you came in, our saintly friend, the doctor, was preparing to kill somebody!’
‘I told you. I don’t want to know about that,’ said Bennett. ‘I’m off.’
Johnny heard Howell step aside, blocking Bennett’s path