Marjorie woke just as the first rays of Birmingham sunshine
filtered through her grubby window.  She lay drowsily for a
while, looking forward to her fourth month's work at the
university.  The automatic tea-maker began to make its
comforting whir.  Marjorie was glad she had brought it with
her from London, because she found it hard to get going in the
mornings.  Today she was excited about her work and though it
was only six o'clock in the morning, she was soon out of bed,
dressing so hurriedly that she put on her cardigan inside out.
The first bus put her down at the centre of the university
campus a full two hours before most of the staff and students
arrived.
She saw Brian walking away from the research laboratory along
the path which ran between the bookshop and the university
hospital.  Brian Cunliffe, clean-shaven and grey-suited,
looked conventional but had unusual habits.  He liked to work
at night, often leaving off at seven in the morning.  This was
convenient for Marjorie because he left the back door of the
laboratory open and she was able to get in and start work
before the porters arrived.
"Marjorie!" said Brian brusquely, "I don't think you'll be
able to do any work today.  There's a poisonous atmosphere in
the lab."
"What do you mean?  Have you spilt some chemicals?"   She
paused and looked at Brian, who seemed agitated and was now
gesticulating wildly.
"Don't go up the back stairs today," he said.  "I've left a
notice on the back door but it's covered up now.  You won't
see it."
"I don't understand.  What's wrong?"
"I've had an accident.  Don't go in there, please."
"What is it then?"
"An accident. An accident.  Get Professor Rushmore to burn the
laboratory."
"You don't know what you are saying!"
"Please, please!"
"Brian, you should never have started working at night. It is
against regulations to work alone in the lab.  Being on your
own so much is not good for you."
"But you're not bothering about the regulations yourself,
coming in so early."
"That's different!"
"Well, it's no good standing and talking.  I'll just have to
show you something frightful."
He took Marjorie's arm and propelled her forward past the
hospital and down the path which led to the ivy-covered
building in which the research lab was housed.  They paused at
the back of the building near a flight of stone steps leading
to a balcony, from which the lab could be entered.

"Now you'll see!" said Brian.
"What is it?"
"Look at the new light-green plant up there.  It shows up
against the ivy."
"New plant?  I don't see anything."
"Look now!"
A robin flew on to the balcony looking for crumbs from the
research students' sandwiches.  Marjorie recognised this
particular bird, which she fed regularly.  This time the robin
was the food.  It disappeared into a gourd, something like an
enlarged Venus fly-trap.  The plant had eaten the bird.
 

"How horrible, that was my pet bird," said Marjorie.  "Who has
created this monstrosity?"
"I'm sorry said Brian.  "I was doing it on the side - it
contains some DNA from a cat.  I called it the fast-food plant
- it has grown too fast and eaten all the laboratory animals."

Ostensibly, Brian had been experimenting with a method of
extracting protein economically from leaves.  All Marjorie had
seen of his work was a row of flasks left dirty each morning,
where he had been determining the nitrogen content of his
samples, from which he calculated the percentage protein.  But
as he worked at night, no-one saw too much.  Marjorie thought
about the limits to genetic engineering indicated by the
ethics committee of this university, but this was not the time
to bring up the issue.

So she said, "Yes, we'll have to destroy these plants before
they escape into the environment."
"We'll have to set fire to them," said Brian.  "No good trying
to get in through the back entrance.  It's completely blocked
with foliage.  Come on round the front where we can break a
window."
"Why haven't you done something before this?  You looked as if
you were going to run away when I saw you."
"No, I wasn't.  I was looking for you.  I did not want to try
fire-raising alone."
"I see," said Marjorie.  She did not like the look on his
face, but nevertheless followed him to the front entrance
where they broke a window and gained entrance to the stores.
It was easy to force open the barrier fitted over the counter.
They seized several bottles of petroleum ether and hurried up
the stairs.  In the first-floor research lab the plant had
colonised half the floor space.
"It does not need soil - feeds off the air," said Brian.
"Needs water though; I kept it wet at first, then it seemed to
get enough moisture from the air."
They proceeded to soak everything with petroleum ether.

"You're sure there is no-one else in the building?" asked
Marjorie.
"No, there never is at night.  Sometimes, someone as keen to
start work as you are, comes in at seven or eight in the
morning through the balcony entrance, but the porters make
sure all the other doors are locked."
"OK, then, we'll start the fire," said Marjorie, as she threw
a lighted taper on to the petroleum-soaked wooden benches,
partly covered by foliage.  The fast-food plant had large
leaves; its gourds hung everywhere in a profusion of green,
brown and red.  It was soon blazing furiously.

"We'll have to start another fire on the balcony where the
plant has escaped," said Brian, as they rushed away from the
flames.
When they were in the open air again at the back of the
building, Brian said, "Wait down below, Marjorie;  I'll do
this."
He carried a bottle of petroleum ether up the steps to the
balcony and set fire to the foliage there.  As he was coming
down, Marjorie noticed he was carrying a hollow glass globe.
"What is that?" she asked.
"This is an enclosed system - with sufficient water, air and
food for the plant growing inside.  Some of its leaves die and
are recycled, providing food for the insects and shrimps
swimming in the water which eat the water-weed; it is an
enclosed ecological system - a safe way to keep the plant
which may be dangerous in the earth's own large ecosystem."

Marjorie looked at the globe and said, "I think we must
destroy that too.  Or take it to show Professor Rushmore
first."
Brian pushed her roughly aside.  "No, I am keeping this.  It
is the only specimen and it's mine."
As Marjorie fell to the ground, Brian hit her again on the
head and she lost consciousness. He ran off across the
deserted sports fields.  Marjorie soon came round and for a
moment was bemused and wondered what had happened.  But she
had no time to consider her own troubles because she could see
the laboratory building on fire.  The ivy which had covered
the brick walls was now burning, and there was no trace of the
new plant.  It was still only eight o'clock in the morning and
no-one was about.  Marjorie decided to call the fire brigade.
The brigade took about twenty minutes to arrive. Just as it
was going into action, Marjorie was horrified to see Brian
return in a police car, accompanied by two constables.  The
policeman approached Marjorie and told her that Brian had
stated that she had started this fire.
"But Brian helped me to start the fire and we had a good
reason. There was  a dangerous plant growing in the lab."
"Dangerous plant. What do you mean by that?"
When Marjorie had explained, the constable said that Brian's
story was quite different and much more likely to be true.

"You were his girl-friend, said the constable but because he
had begun to devote all his time to his research work and
neglected you, in a fit of pique you set fire to the lab in
which the research was being carried out."
"But I was the one who called the fire brigade," replied
Marjorie.
"You were not," said the policeman. "Mr. Cunliffe called the
fire brigade from his home just before calling the police."

"But he knocked me down before running away with a specimen of
the dangerous plant," said Marjorie.
It was obvious that the police officer believed Brian's story
and Marjorie was forced to accompany him to the police
station.  She was kept in a cell overnight, and next morning
was formally questioned.  She was allowed home under condition
that she kept the peace and did not visit the laboratory
again. The police indicated that they were going to call Brian
in for questioning, as they were not entirely satisfied with
his story.
 

 On the way out someone who had been sitting on the benches in
the police station caught up with her.
"I'm John," he said. "I've been charged for breaking an
entering a house.  But I went in to rescue a dog. The
occupants had gone on holiday and left it without any food. So
I took it away."
"Oh," said Marjorie, taking an instant liking to him, "you may
be able to help me."  She told him about the fire in the
University.

Not long afterwards, Marjorie and John met again by
arrangement outside Birmingham Central Library.
"Hello, John, are you OK?" said Marjorie when she saw him.
"I'm doing well," said John.  "Labouring for a few weeks and
I'm studying part-time for building trade management. It was
true that I used to be a thief, and I was going to steal
things from the last house I broke into. But when I saw the
dog, who looked as if he had not eaten for days and had only a
bowl of dirty water beside him, I changed my mind. Yes I have
done time in prison for earlier thefts, but I am going
straight now."
"Well, we must get on with what we arranged to do," said
Marjorie.  "I've found out Brian Cunliffe's address from the
electoral register.  There were only four people of that name
on the list, and at my third call I struck lucky.  He has a
first floor flat with an elderly widow as landlady.  He  works
at night. But I don't think he will be going to work at the
moment because his laboratory has been burnt down.   If we
wait outside long enough we may see him go out. I don't fancy
this job.  But I must do it."
"I don't fancy it either," said John.  "I'm not going inside;
you do that."
"Me! Breaking and entering!" said Marjorie.
"Well, I'm not doing it.  If I got caught, how could I explain
it?  Me, an ex-prisoner?  I want to go straight."
"All right," said Marjorie, " you're taking a risk by helping
me."
The couple sat in an all-night launderette until six in the
morning and then went to the address.  John kept watch
inconspicuously from across the road, while Marjorie waited
patiently out of sight.  The first thing that happened that
morning was the arrival of the police.  To John's
satisfaction, Brian accompanied the police outside and they
drove off in the police car. He walked round the corner to
inform Marjorie what had happened and they came back together.

 John fiddled with some tools, forced the downstairs sash
window open and raised it quietly, holding it up for Marjorie
to enter.  Then he made himself scarce.  Marjorie was
surprised to find how easy it was.  The upstairs rooms were
unlocked and deserted and the glass globe was displayed on a
side table.  Marjorie had it in her hands now.
All the way home on the bus she cradled it, hiding it under
her coat.  Alone again in her silent kitchen, for a fleeting
moment she wondered if she should take it to Professor
Rushmore to examine.  But the evil was too pressing.  She
carried the container gently to the gas stove and watched with
a growing sense of relief as the water in the container boiled
and the last remaining fast-food plant shrivelled and died.
 

---------By Joan Hughes, Flat Marjorie woke just as the first rays of Birmingham sunshine
filtered through her grubby window.  She lay drowsily for a
while, looking forward to her fourth month's work at the
university.  The automatic tea-maker began to make its
comforting whir.  Marjorie was glad she had brought it with
her from London, because she found it hard to get going in the
mornings.  Today she was excited about her work and though it
was only six o'clock in the morning, she was soon out of bed,
dressing so hurriedly that she put on her cardigan inside out.
The first bus put her down at the centre of the university
campus a full two hours before most of the staff and students
arrived.
She saw Brian walking away from the research laboratory along
the path which ran between the bookshop and the university
hospital.  Brian Cunliffe, clean-shaven and grey-suited,
looked conventional but had unusual habits.  He liked to work
at night, often leaving off at seven in the morning.  This was
convenient for Marjorie because he left the back door of the
laboratory open and she was able to get in and start work
before the porters arrived.
"Marjorie!" said Brian brusquely, "I don't think you'll be
able to do any work today.  There's a poisonous atmosphere in
the lab."
"What do you mean?  Have you spilt some chemicals?"   She
paused and looked at Brian, who seemed agitated and was now
gesticulating wildly.
"Don't go up the back stairs today," he said.  "I've left a
notice on the back door but it's covered up now.  You won't
see it."
"I don't understand.  What's wrong?"
"I've had an accident.  Don't go in there, please."
"What is it then?"
"An accident. An accident.  Get Professor Rushmore to burn the
laboratory."
"You don't know what you are saying!"
"Please, please!"
"Brian, you should never have started working at night. It is
against regulations to work alone in the lab.  Being on your
own so much is not good for you."
"But you're not bothering about the regulations yourself,
coming in so early."
"That's different!"
"Well, it's no good standing and talking.  I'll just have to
show you something frightful."
He took Marjorie's arm and propelled her forward past the
hospital and down the path which led to the ivy-covered
building in which the research lab was housed.  They paused at
the back of the building near a flight of stone steps leading
to a balcony, from which the lab could be entered.

"Now you'll see!" said Brian.
"What is it?"
"Look at the new light-green plant up there.  It shows up
against the ivy."
"New plant?  I don't see anything."
"Look now!"
A robin flew on to the balcony looking for crumbs from the
research students' sandwiches.  Marjorie recognised this
particular bird, which she fed regularly.  This time the robin
was the food.  It disappeared into a gourd, something like an
enlarged Venus fly-trap.  The plant had eaten the bird.
 

"How horrible, that was my pet bird," said Marjorie.  "Who has
created this monstrosity?"
"I'm sorry said Brian.  "I was doing it on the side - it
contains some DNA from a cat.  I called it the fast-food plant
- it has grown too fast and eaten all the laboratory animals."

Ostensibly, Brian had been experimenting with a method of
extracting protein economically from leaves.  All Marjorie had
seen of his work was a row of flasks left dirty each morning,
where he had been determining the nitrogen content of his
samples, from which he calculated the percentage protein.  But
as he worked at night, no-one saw too much.  Marjorie thought
about the limits to genetic engineering indicated by the
ethics committee of this university, but this was not the time
to bring up the issue.

So she said, "Yes, we'll have to destroy these plants before
they escape into the environment."
"We'll have to set fire to them," said Brian.  "No good trying
to get in through the back entrance.  It's completely blocked
with foliage.  Come on round the front where we can break a
window."
"Why haven't you done something before this?  You looked as if
you were going to run away when I saw you."
"No, I wasn't.  I was looking for you.  I did not want to try
fire-raising alone."
"I see," said Marjorie.  She did not like the look on his
face, but nevertheless followed him to the front entrance
where they broke a window and gained entrance to the stores.
It was easy to force open the barrier fitted over the counter.
They seized several bottles of petroleum ether and hurried up
the stairs.  In the first-floor research lab the plant had
colonised half the floor space.
"It does not need soil - feeds off the air," said Brian.
"Needs water though; I kept it wet at first, then it seemed to
get enough moisture from the air."
They proceeded to soak everything with petroleum ether.

"You're sure there is no-one else in the building?" asked
Marjorie.
"No, there never is at night.  Sometimes, someone as keen to
start work as you are, comes in at seven or eight in the
morning through the balcony entrance, but the porters make
sure all the other doors are locked."
"OK, then, we'll start the fire," said Marjorie, as she threw
a lighted taper on to the petroleum-soaked wooden benches,
partly covered by foliage.  The fast-food plant had large
leaves; its gourds hung everywhere in a profusion of green,
brown and red.  It was soon blazing furiously.

"We'll have to start another fire on the balcony where the
plant has escaped," said Brian, as they rushed away from the
flames.
When they were in the open air again at the back of the
building, Brian said, "Wait down below, Marjorie;  I'll do
this."
He carried a bottle of petroleum ether up the steps to the
balcony and set fire to the foliage there.  As he was coming
down, Marjorie noticed he was carrying a hollow glass globe.
"What is that?" she asked.
"This is an enclosed system - with sufficient water, air and
food for the plant growing inside.  Some of its leaves die and
are recycled, providing food for the insects and shrimps
swimming in the water which eat the water-weed; it is an
enclosed ecological system - a safe way to keep the plant
which may be dangerous in the earth's own large ecosystem."

Marjorie looked at the globe and said, "I think we must
destroy that too.  Or take it to show Professor Rushmore
first."
Brian pushed her roughly aside.  "No, I am keeping this.  It
is the only specimen and it's mine."
As Marjorie fell to the ground, Brian hit her again on the
head and she lost consciousness. He ran off across the
deserted sports fields.  Marjorie soon came round and for a
moment was bemused and wondered what had happened.  But she
had no time to consider her own troubles because she could see
the laboratory building on fire.  The ivy which had covered
the brick walls was now burning, and there was no trace of the
new plant.  It was still only eight o'clock in the morning and
no-one was about.  Marjorie decided to call the fire brigade.
The brigade took about twenty minutes to arrive. Just as it
was going into action, Marjorie was horrified to see Brian
return in a police car, accompanied by two constables.  The
policeman approached Marjorie and told her that Brian had
stated that she had started this fire.
"But Brian helped me to start the fire and we had a good
reason. There was  a dangerous plant growing in the lab."
"Dangerous plant. What do you mean by that?"
When Marjorie had explained, the constable said that Brian's
story was quite different and much more likely to be true.

"You were his girl-friend, said the constable but because he
had begun to devote all his time to his research work and
neglected you, in a fit of pique you set fire to the lab in
which the research was being carried out."
"But I was the one who called the fire brigade," replied
Marjorie.
"You were not," said the policeman. "Mr. Cunliffe called the
fire brigade from his home just before calling the police."

"But he knocked me down before running away with a specimen of
the dangerous plant," said Marjorie.
It was obvious that the police officer believed Brian's story
and Marjorie was forced to accompany him to the police
station.  She was kept in a cell overnight, and next morning
was formally questioned.  She was allowed home under condition
that she kept the peace and did not visit the laboratory
again. The police indicated that they were going to call Brian
in for questioning, as they were not entirely satisfied with
his story.
 

 On the way out someone who had been sitting on the benches in
the police station caught up with her.
"I'm John," he said. "I've been charged for breaking an
entering a house.  But I went in to rescue a dog. The
occupants had gone on holiday and left it without any food. So
I took it away."
"Oh," said Marjorie, taking an instant liking to him, "you may
be able to help me."  She told him about the fire in the
University.

Not long afterwards, Marjorie and John met again by
arrangement outside Birmingham Central Library.
"Hello, John, are you OK?" said Marjorie when she saw him.
"I'm doing well," said John.  "Labouring for a few weeks and
I'm studying part-time for building trade management. It was
true that I used to be a thief, and I was going to steal
things from the last house I broke into. But when I saw the
dog, who looked as if he had not eaten for days and had only a
bowl of dirty water beside him, I changed my mind. Yes I have
done time in prison for earlier thefts, but I am going
straight now."
"Well, we must get on with what we arranged to do," said
Marjorie.  "I've found out Brian Cunliffe's address from the
electoral register.  There were only four people of that name
on the list, and at my third call I struck lucky.  He has a
first floor flat with an elderly widow as landlady.  He  works
at night. But I don't think he will be going to work at the
moment because his laboratory has been burnt down.   If we
wait outside long enough we may see him go out. I don't fancy
this job.  But I must do it."
"I don't fancy it either," said John.  "I'm not going inside;
you do that."
"Me! Breaking and entering!" said Marjorie.
"Well, I'm not doing it.  If I got caught, how could I explain
it?  Me, an ex-prisoner?  I want to go straight."
"All right," said Marjorie, " you're taking a risk by helping
me."
The couple sat in an all-night launderette until six in the
morning and then went to the address.  John kept watch
inconspicuously from across the road, while Marjorie waited
patiently out of sight.  The first thing that happened that
morning was the arrival of the police.  To John's
satisfaction, Brian accompanied the police outside and they
drove off in the police car. He walked round the corner to
inform Marjorie what had happened and they came back together.

 John fiddled with some tools, forced the downstairs sash
window open and raised it quietly, holding it up for Marjorie
to enter.  Then he made himself scarce.  Marjorie was
surprised to find how easy it was.  The upstairs rooms were
unlocked and deserted and the glass globe was displayed on a
side table.  Marjorie had it in her hands now.
All the way home on the bus she cradled it, hiding it under
her coat.  Alone again in her silent kitchen, for a fleeting
moment she wondered if she should take it to Professor
Rushmore to examine.  But the evil was too pressing.  She
carried the container gently to the gas stove and watched with
a growing sense of relief as the water in the container boiled
and the last remaining fast-food plant shrivelled and died.
 

---------By Joan Hughes, Flat Marjorie woke just as the first rays of Birmingham sunshine
filtered through her grubby window.  She lay drowsily for a
while, looking forward to her fourth month's work at the
university.  The automatic tea-maker began to make its
comforting whir.  Marjorie was glad she had brought it with
her from London, because she found it hard to get going in the
mornings.  Today she was excited about her work and though it
was only six o'clock in the morning, she was soon out of bed,
dressing so hurriedly that she put on her cardigan inside out.
The first bus put her down at the centre of the university
campus a full two hours before most of the staff and students
arrived.
She saw Brian walking away from the research laboratory along
the path which ran between the bookshop and the university
hospital.  Brian Cunliffe, clean-shaven and grey-suited,
looked conventional but had unusual habits.  He liked to work
at night, often leaving off at seven in the morning.  This was
convenient for Marjorie because he left the back door of the
laboratory open and she was able to get in and start work
before the porters arrived.
"Marjorie!" said Brian brusquely, "I don't think you'll be
able to do any work today.  There's a poisonous atmosphere in
the lab."
"What do you mean?  Have you spilt some chemicals?"   She
paused and looked at Brian, who seemed agitated and was now
gesticulating wildly.
"Don't go up the back stairs today," he said.  "I've left a
notice on the back door but it's covered up now.  You won't
see it."
"I don't understand.  What's wrong?"
"I've had an accident.  Don't go in there, please."
"What is it then?"
"An accident. An accident.  Get Professor Rushmore to burn the
laboratory."
"You don't know what you are saying!"
"Please, please!"
"Brian, you should never have started working at night. It is
against regulations to work alone in the lab.  Being on your
own so much is not good for you."
"But you're not bothering about the regulations yourself,
coming in so early."
"That's different!"
"Well, it's no good standing and talking.  I'll just have to
show you something frightful."
He took Marjorie's arm and propelled her forward past the
hospital and down the path which led to the ivy-covered
building in which the research lab was housed.  They paused at
the back of the building near a flight of stone steps leading
to a balcony, from which the lab could be entered.

"Now you'll see!" said Brian.
"What is it?"
"Look at the new light-green plant up there.  It shows up
against the ivy."
"New plant?  I don't see anything."
"Look now!"
A robin flew on to the balcony looking for crumbs from the
research students' sandwiches.  Marjorie recognised this
particular bird, which she fed regularly.  This time the robin
was the food.  It disappeared into a gourd, something like an
enlarged Venus fly-trap.  The plant had eaten the bird.
 

"How horrible, that was my pet bird," said Marjorie.  "Who has
created this monstrosity?"
"I'm sorry said Brian.  "I was doing it on the side - it
contains some DNA from a cat.  I called it the fast-food plant
- it has grown too fast and eaten all the laboratory animals."

Ostensibly, Brian had been experimenting with a method of
extracting protein economically from leaves.  All Marjorie had
seen of his work was a row of flasks left dirty each morning,
where he had been determining the nitrogen content of his
samples, from which he calculated the percentage protein.  But
as he worked at night, no-one saw too much.  Marjorie thought
about the limits to genetic engineering indicated by the
ethics committee of this university, but this was not the time
to bring up the issue.

So she said, "Yes, we'll have to destroy these plants before
they escape into the environment."
"We'll have to set fire to them," said Brian.  "No good trying
to get in through the back entrance.  It's completely blocked
with foliage.  Come on round the front where we can break a
window."
"Why haven't you done something before this?  You looked as if
you were going to run away when I saw you."
"No, I wasn't.  I was looking for you.  I did not want to try
fire-raising alone."
"I see," said Marjorie.  She did not like the look on his
face, but nevertheless followed him to the front entrance
where they broke a window and gained entrance to the stores.
It was easy to force open the barrier fitted over the counter.
They seized several bottles of petroleum ether and hurried up
the stairs.  In the first-floor research lab the plant had
colonised half the floor space.
"It does not need soil - feeds off the air," said Brian.
"Needs water though; I kept it wet at first, then it seemed to
get enough moisture from the air."
They proceeded to soak everything with petroleum ether.

"You're sure there is no-one else in the building?" asked
Marjorie.
"No, there never is at night.  Sometimes, someone as keen to
start work as you are, comes in at seven or eight in the
morning through the balcony entrance, but the porters make
sure all the other doors are locked."
"OK, then, we'll start the fire," said Marjorie, as she threw
a lighted taper on to the petroleum-soaked wooden benches,
partly covered by foliage.  The fast-food plant had large
leaves; its gourds hung everywhere in a profusion of green,
brown and red.  It was soon blazing furiously.

"We'll have to start another fire on the balcony where the
plant has escaped," said Brian, as they rushed away from the
flames.
When they were in the open air again at the back of the
building, Brian said, "Wait down below, Marjorie;  I'll do
this."
He carried a bottle of petroleum ether up the steps to the
balcony and set fire to the foliage there.  As he was coming
down, Marjorie noticed he was carrying a hollow glass globe.
"What is that?" she asked.
"This is an enclosed system - with sufficient water, air and
food for the plant growing inside.  Some of its leaves die and
are recycled, providing food for the insects and shrimps
swimming in the water which eat the water-weed; it is an
enclosed ecological system - a safe way to keep the plant
which may be dangerous in the earth's own large ecosystem."

Marjorie looked at the globe and said, "I think we must
destroy that too.  Or take it to show Professor Rushmore
first."
Brian pushed her roughly aside.  "No, I am keeping this.  It
is the only specimen and it's mine."
As Marjorie fell to the ground, Brian hit her again on the
head and she lost consciousness. He ran off across the
deserted sports fields.  Marjorie soon came round and for a
moment was bemused and wondered what had happened.  But she
had no time to consider her own troubles because she could see
the laboratory building on fire.  The ivy which had covered
the brick walls was now burning, and there was no trace of the
new plant.  It was still only eight o'clock in the morning and
no-one was about.  Marjorie decided to call the fire brigade.
The brigade took about twenty minutes to arrive. Just as it
was going into action, Marjorie was horrified to see Brian
return in a police car, accompanied by two constables.  The
policeman approached Marjorie and told her that Brian had
stated that she had started this fire.
"But Brian helped me to start the fire and we had a good
reason. There was  a dangerous plant growing in the lab."
"Dangerous plant. What do you mean by that?"
When Marjorie had explained, the constable said that Brian's
story was quite different and much more likely to be true.

"You were his girl-friend, said the constable but because he
had begun to devote all his time to his research work and
neglected you, in a fit of pique you set fire to the lab in
which the research was being carried out."
"But I was the one who called the fire brigade," replied
Marjorie.
"You were not," said the policeman. "Mr. Cunliffe called the
fire brigade from his home just before calling the police."

"But he knocked me down before running away with a specimen of
the dangerous plant," said Marjorie.
It was obvious that the police officer believed Brian's story
and Marjorie was forced to accompany him to the police
station.  She was kept in a cell overnight, and next morning
was formally questioned.  She was allowed home under condition that she kept the peace and did not visit the laboratory
again. The police indicated that they were going to call Brian in for questioning, as they were not entirely satisfied with his story.
 

 On the way out someone who had been sitting on the benches in the police station caught up with her.
"I'm John," he said. "I've been charged for breaking an
entering a house.  But I went in to rescue a dog. The
occupants had gone on holiday and left it without any food. So I took it away."
"Oh," said Marjorie, taking an instant liking to him, "you may
be able to help me."  She told him about the fire in the
University.

Not long afterwards, Marjorie and John met again by
arrangement outside Birmingham Central Library.
"Hello, John, are you OK?" said Marjorie when she saw him.
"I'm doing well," said John.  "Labouring for a few weeks and
I'm studying part-time for building trade management. It was
true that I used to be a thief, and I was going to steal
things from the last house I broke into. But when I saw the
dog, who looked as if he had not eaten for days and had only a bowl of dirty water beside him, I changed my mind. Yes I have done time in prison for earlier thefts, but I am going
straight now."
"Well, we must get on with what we arranged to do," said
Marjorie.  "I've found out Brian Cunliffe's address from the
electoral register.  There were only four people of that name
on the list, and at my third call I struck lucky.  He has a
first floor flat with an elderly widow as landlady.  He  works
at night. But I don't think he will be going to work at the
moment because his laboratory has been burnt down.   If we
wait outside long enough we may see him go out. I don't fancy this job.  But I must do it."
"I don't fancy it either," said John.  "I'm not going inside;
you do that."
"Me! Breaking and entering!" said Marjorie.
"Well, I'm not doing it.  If I got caught, how could I explain
it?  Me, an ex-prisoner?  I want to go straight."
"All right," said Marjorie, " you're taking a risk by helping
me."
The couple sat in an all-night launderette until six in the
morning and then went to the address.  John kept watch
inconspicuously from across the road, while Marjorie waited
patiently out of sight.  The first thing that happened that
morning was the arrival of the police.  To John's
satisfaction, Brian accompanied the police outside and they
drove off in the police car. He walked round the corner to
inform Marjorie what had happened and they came back together.

 John fiddled with some tools, forced the downstairs sash
window open and raised it quietly, holding it up for Marjorie
to enter.  Then he made himself scarce.  Marjorie was
surprised to find how easy it was.  The upstairs rooms were
unlocked and deserted and the glass globe was displayed on a side table.  Marjorie had it in her hands now.
All the way home on the bus she cradled it, hiding it under
her coat.  Alone again in her silent kitchen, for a fleeting
moment she wondered if she should take it to Professor
Rushmore to examine.  But the evil was too pressing.  She
carried the container gently to the gas stove and watched with a growing sense of relief as the water in the container boiled and the last remaining fast-food plant shrivelled and died.
 

---------By Joan Hughes Copyright 2000