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.Taking his drink, he sat on the sofa opposite Cramm and studied his assistant.In the past few months he had been leaving a lot to this young man.With a spark of unease it occurred to him that Cramm’s eagerness to serve, his dogged pragmatism and his precocious grasp of office politics may not have been matched by a corresponding level of judgement.‘Tell me about the fire,’ he said.‘It was an animal rights raid.Octek were using rodents.The activists broke in, liberated the animals and set fire to the place – ’Schenker interrupted with an upheld finger.‘These activists, why did they choose Octek?’Cramm hesitated, uncertain as to the purpose of the interrogation.‘Why not choose a more obvious target?’ Schenker persisted.‘One of our own places, for example?’Cramm got the idea; they were playing detective.‘The place was unguarded,’ he said.‘An easy target.’‘And how would they know that?’An instant followed, a taut silence in which Cramm’s gaze hardened.‘They must have been tipped off.’Schenker felt his mood descend another notch.‘But it was definitely animal rights campaigners, was it?’‘Yes.’ Cramm nodded emphatically, his eyes challenging Schenker to disagree, and in that moment Schenker’s heart completed its descent.He was no longer in any doubt that Cramm had got carried away, that the situation, if unravelled, would prove ugly.Absorbing this, he felt a flash of anger, barbed with sudden fears and anxieties.Then just as rapidly, he pushed these feelings aside.Anger served no purpose, not until he could see his way clear.He put his glass to his lips and sipped his drink.‘Go on.’‘They’re going to try to pin it on us.’‘Who are?’‘Daisy Field and her group.They’re threatening to go to the press.’‘On what evidence?’‘Apparently the police are saying the job was too professional for animal rights people.’‘That cuts both ways, surely.If it was too professional for one group, then why not for another?’ Without waiting for a reply he pressed on: ‘Is that all?’Cramm shifted in his seat and studied his glass.‘No … There’s something else apparently, some other evidence.’‘That could link us to the fire?’‘Yes.’‘And what is it?’‘We don’t know.’‘We don’t know,’ repeated Schenker heavily.‘Well, what could it be?’Cramm retorted defensively: ‘I’ve no idea! There’s nothing for them to know.’Schenker regarded him carefully.This, he decided, was probably the truth.‘So what’s the problem?’Cramm looked surprised that he should miss the obvious.‘Well, the press could make it look very bad for us.’‘But how? No paper will print a story without some facts to back it up.What facts could they have?’‘I don’t know, but the Field woman’s boyfriend is a Sunday Times journalist.’‘So? He’s a professional then, isn’t he, with a tough editor.No stories without solid substantiation.’‘But she’s got something, so she says.’‘Well, she’s bound to say that, isn’t she? It’s called rattling the opposition.Come on, Cramm, if there are no facts, there are no facts!’Cramm nodded uncertainly.Schenker said crisply: ‘I suggest you draft a suitably dismissive statement for the press, in case they try to run something.’ He moved to the edge of the seat, ready to get up and show Cramm out, but the younger man obviously hadn’t finished.‘They’re planning to carry on,’ he said doggedly, ‘to start another lab and continue the work.They say none of this is going to put them off.’‘Did you imagine it would? These people have to martyr themselves,’ Schenker scoffed with a wave of the hand.‘Let them! Silveron’s okay.Nothing they can do is going to show otherwise.They’re just going to waste a hell of a lot of money.’ He slapped his knees and stood up.‘That’s it?’ he asked.‘No,’ Cramm replied.‘They say they’ve got evidence that the Silveron trials were fixed.They say someone in a key position is prepared to talk.They’re threatening to go public.’Schenker had the sudden sensation of having been in this job too long, of seeing events come round for the second or third time, like the rerun of a tired old film.‘It’s not that madman again, is it? That toxicologist in Chicago – the one with the name?’Cramm nodded.‘Dublensky.’He laughed derisively.‘He’s just a nutcase!’‘But there’s a chance, a risk – he might have documentation.’‘What do you mean, documentation?’‘He might have copied some data,’ Cramm said eventually, picking his way cautiously through the words.‘Data that shows that some of the Silveron test results were lifted from another product.’‘Lifted?’‘Identical data, duplicate results.’‘And what’s meant to be the significance of this – data? What’s it meant to show?’‘That the Silveron trials were not carried out properly.’Schenker let out a harsh guffaw that rang loudly in the quiet of the flat.‘You’re not suggesting it’s genuine?’‘Well …’ Cramm spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.‘It looks genuine, and that’s the same thing.’Schenker felt a shiver of anger.He slapped his palm down on the table.‘I want that document on my desk first thing this morning.’‘I’ll try – ’‘By ten.At the latest.’Cramm looked unhappy but did not say it was impossible.‘So what’s the bottom line here?’ Schenker snapped.‘A press bonanza? A media massacre?’‘That’s about it.’Schenker got to his feet, fighting for air, and strode to the window.What a cock-up! Christ, and he had trusted Cramm to keep a finger on the pulse! With a swoop of resignation, he saw that he was going to have to take personal charge of this, that nothing would get sorted out unless he did.‘Okay,’ he said, turning briskly.‘Let’s go through it from the top.’ He returned to his seat, leaning close over the coffee table, tapping the surface with a forefinger.‘I want a list of damage containment ideas by the morning.I want to know how this Dubinsky – ’‘Dublensky.’‘ – how this Dublensky can be effectively discredited the moment the first journalist gets on the line.I want to know how he can be neutralized.’And, he thought to himself, I want to know how to guard my rear, to cover myself in the unpleasant eventuality that this thing blows up in my face.He thought of the cola magnate, and the discussions on Long Island, and wondered how close he was to being offered a new job.‘You might think of how to clip Miss Field’s wings too,’ he went on [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]