Scorpion [Scorpions 01] Read Online Free PDF Page A

to have done any good. The sting was at the base of the left thumb. Now the whole of the left arm and his face have swelled up and turned black.’
        ‘Sounds a bit extreme for a wee insect bite,’ McFee said. ‘Perhaps it was something else. Snake maybe?’
        ‘There was only one puncture,’ Allan pointed out.
        McFee thought for a moment. ‘I don’t think you can rule out a snake-bite just on that. It could have been a snake with a defective fang. Or maybe it only managed to make contact with one fang.’
        ‘A short-sighted adder?’ Allan grinned.
        McFee grunted in disgust. ‘If all you can do is scoff, you ignorant Englishman, I’ll away back to my own wee corner.’
        ‘A snake that can’t aim straight,’ Allan chuckled. He glanced at McFee and saw that the Scot was grinning too.
        ‘Can’t you just hear it singing to itself ‘Fangs ain’t what they used to be’.’
        ‘Cut it out, Fergus,’ Allan said. He knew to his cost how infectious the Scot’s humor was, but he was going to have Camperly yelling over his shoulder for his report before long. ‘Haven’t you got anything to do?’ he asked. ‘A dead haggis to dissect?’
        Stifling his snorts of laughter McFee presented a sober expression. ‘If there’s one thing I canna abide next to an Englishman, it’s a dedicated, ambitious, boot-licking Englishman!’
        He slid off the stool and returned to his work - a complex analysis of a new cholera strain. That was McFee’s way. When he played he always went over the top, when he worked he was single-minded and fanatically thorough.
        Allan settled down at his own bench, preparing for the intricate tests he was about to carry out. Here was the nucleus of his work, the nub from which everything else radiated. And it was here where Allan derived his greatest satisfaction, never once failing to become excited as his precise evaluations began to reveal definite results…
        Three hours later he had gleaned every scrap of information possible from the blood and saliva samples taken from Les Mason.
        The tests had revealed that Mason’s blood contained heavy traces of an extremely powerful neurotoxin. As far as Allan could determine, it was far stronger than anything likely to be injected by a bee or a wasp. He had also confirmed that the venom was hemolytic in its action in that it attacked and destroyed the red blood corpuscles. If he had been called upon to express an opinion Allan would have agreed with Fergus McFee’s suggestion - that Les Mason had suffered some kind of snakebite. Even so, Allan found himself puzzled by the characteristics of the venom; it was a strain he hadn’t come across before. The venom was far more potent than the native adder. It was, of course, always possible that a foreign reptile could have somehow got itself loose in the countryside - dangerous pets had escaped before.
        Allan took his report to Camperly’s office. As usual the office was empty. That was typical of Camperly; he would chase everyone around, raising the roof over some report, which, according to him, was vital to the survival of the country; he would bully everyone to get the work done, and then as soon as it was delivered he would vanish and the report would sit on his desk for days. Allan left the report in the centre of Camperly’s unmarked blotter and closed the door of the office. He returned to his own work, picking up where he’d left off earlier when he had accompanied Camperly to see Renshaw’s patient. Allan wondered how Les Mason was doing. He hoped that the man recovered. Not that there was anything Allan could do. Camperly would handle the case in his usual manner: he would assume complete control and allow no further involvement on the part of his staff. Allan’s part in the matter had ended when he placed the report on Camperly’s desk.
        

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