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stench of filth and decomposition would fill the air, accompanying the moans of the sick, the groans of the dying …
    ‘When news spread north to the cities, the families of some of the more noble Scottish participants were adamant they did not want their loved ones left to be rolled and tumbled into the communal pits and pyres of the forest. The Le Clerk family were tasked with preserving the bodies of those of noble birth they could find and transporting them up to Edinburgh and beyond for proper burial.
    ‘This never happened: Black Death beat them to it. It had already spread north by the time the bodies had been preserved and was wreaking havoc throughout Scotland. The embalmed corpses remained in the Borders, where they were buried in a secret chamber at Dryburgh Abbey – the papers I mentioned earlier tell us where that chamber is. Sixteen Black Death victims, preserved by masters of the craft, lie waiting there. Are you interested, doctor?’
    John Motram’s face was wreathed in smiles. ‘I feel as if Christmas has come early this year,’ he said. ‘What a fascinating story, and what an intriguing prospect … although …’ The smile faded. ‘There’s a bit of a cloud on the horizon, I’m afraid. It seems my research funding in this area is not going to be renewed, and without it the cost of mounting an excavation would be prohibitive.’
    Harvey leaned back in his chair as if master of all he surveyed and said, ‘You know, I think we might be able to help there.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Have you heard of the Hotspur Foundation?’
    Motram shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’
    ‘Neither had I until a few weeks ago, but we, among certain other academic institutions across the land, have been asked to recommend suitable candidates for funding – what the newspapers might call “top scientists” – in certain fields. You fall into one of the categories.’
    ‘Bygone plagues?’ said Motram with a look of incredulity.
    ‘It’s more your expertise in the mechanics of viral infection they’re interested in,’ said Harvey with a smile. ‘Your broader area of expertise – but two birds with one stone and all that, eh, doctor? It’s up to you how you spend the money.’
    ‘Sounds too good to be true,’ said Motram. ‘Who’s behind this foundation?’
    ‘It’s not clear,’ replied Harvey, ‘but that isn’t unusual in these cases – probably a reclusive billionaire atoning for the past misdeeds which got him the fortune in the first place, I shouldn’t wonder. He’ll be bidding for a late entry pass through the gates of heaven – if you’ll pardon my cynicism.’
    Motram smiled. ‘And what exactly would these people expect from me?’ he asked.
    ‘The only stipulation is that your expertise can be called upon without too much notice if and when the occasion arises during the next few months. Nothing more specific.’
    ‘Pretty vague,’ said Motram. ‘Still, if this enables me to carry on with my work and lets me unlock the secrets lying in the Scottish Borders, I’m all for it.’
    ‘Good. Then I can put your name forward?’
    ‘Please do.’ Motram hesitated, then asked, ‘At the risk of sounding rude and perhaps even ungrateful, might I ask what you and the college are getting out of all this?’
    Harvey smiled. ‘Prestige, doctor – what we value most. After all, if you are successful, we would be instrumental in bringing about the resolution of an important academic argument, would we not?’
    ‘Absolutely,’ said Motram.
    ‘Excellent,’ exclaimed Harvey. ‘Then I think we should put our collaboration on a more formal basis. I’ll send off a letter to your university suggesting that we make you an honorary research fellow of the college for the duration of the investigation and put forward your credentials for funding from the Hotspur Foundation. Perhaps you’d care to join me for some lunch?’
     
     
    Motram was entertained to the kind of lunch that had him