by John Holt
At a Press Conference held at Pasteur House yesterday evening, Professor Gerald Mason, chairman of the Royal College of General Practitioners, said the latest death should not lead to panic. “This does not change anything at the moment,” he said. “We would have expected a certain number of deaths at this stage. In fact I would have expected a death with no underlying causes much earlier.”
The patient’s family has asked that no details of their relative be released to the public. The Chief Medical Officer has said that this death underlines that, although the virus is proving generally mild in most people, it is more severe in some cases. As with all flu-like viruses, some people are at a much higher risk than others. Unfortunately, people who are otherwise healthy could also become seriously ill or, sadly, die. The patient was the first, in the United Kingdom, to die after contracting Rican flu without any underlying health problems, although not the first in the world, the Department of Health said.
There are at least two thousand one hundred and six confirmed cases of Rican flu in the United Kingdom, the third highest in the world after South America, where the bug was first identified, and the United States. To date South America has a total of six thousand two hundred and forty-three cases of the disease, and there have been just under five thousand cases in the United States.”
* * *
Kendall had been sitting at his desk for about twenty minutes going over the conversation that he had with Doctor Lambert. Suddenly he reached across the desk, and picked up the telephone. He quickly dialed a number.
A few moments later the telephone was answered. “Detective Devaney, Miami Police Department,” a voice said. “How can I help?”
“Devaney, it’s me,” Kendall said.
Devaney sighed. “Okay, so it’s you,” he replied. “What do you want?”
“Why did the police take so many photographs of Richard Dawson, in that car park?” Kendall asked.
Devaney was puzzled. “Why did we take so many photographs?” he repeated. “Why not, what’s the problem? You don’t like our photographs or something?”
“I love your photographs,” Kendall said quickly. “But why were you even at the scene?”
“The young man was dead, right. Died in what was, originally thought to be suspicious circumstances. And we had to carry out an investigation, didn’t we?”
“I understand that,” Kendall replied. “But I understood that Dawson had actually died the next day in the hospital.”
Devaney sighed. “Have you read the file that I gave you?” he asked wearily. “That states quite clearly that he was dead at the scene.” He paused. “When the paramedics arrived they pronounced him dead, there and then. They called us in. We carried out an investigation, and came to the conclusion that it had been an accident, a very unfortunate accident, but an accident, nonetheless.”
“I’ve read the file,” Kendall replied. “I’ve seen what the paramedics said.”
“Well then, why all the dumb questions?” said Devaney.
“I was told that he had died the following day at the hospital,” Kendall said.
“Well did you check with the hospital?” asked Devaney.
“I checked,” said Kendall.
“Well then, that settles that don’t it,” said Devaney. “So who told you he had died at the hospital anyway?”
“Well, it was actually Alan Clark, up at Trenton Pharmaceuticals,” Kendall answered.
Devaney shook his head, and heaved a sigh. “Alan Clark,” he repeated. “Well, I don’t know why he would say that, but he was very mistaken.”
“It certainly seems that way,” Kendall replied, unconvinced. He paused for a moment. “Incidentally as far as I can see from your photographs, there was no damage to the brick wall, and no sign of any blood staining. Is that right?”
“If that’s what the photographs show, or don’t show, then that’s how it was,” Devaney replied. He paused, and then started to laugh. “The camera never lies, that’s what they say.”
Kendall shook his head. “So there was no damage to the wall, then, and no blood staining, right?”
Devaney took a deep breath. “Right,” he said sharply. “Anything else?”
“One other thing,” Kendall said. “As far as I can see there was no damage to Dawson’s clothes. Is that correct?”
Devaney was beginning to get slightly agitated. “If that’s what the photographs indicate then …”
“That’s how it was,” suggested Kendall.
“Right,” replied Devaney. “Is that everything now?”
“For the time being,” Kendall replied.
“Kendall, it was an accident,” Devaney said quite slowly, and deliberately. “Let it go at that.”
“Thanks Devaney,” Kendall replied. “You have been a great help, as always.” He slowly replaced the receiver, and looked at Mollie.
She looked at Kendall, and raised her eyes. “So, what did he say?”
* * *
Ten minutes later Kendall had told her everything that Devaney had said. Mollie looked puzzled. “So if Dawson was already dead at the scene, why do you think Clark said that he died the next day, at the hospital?” she asked. Kendall remained silent. “A simple mistake, probably,” she suggested, answering her own question.
Kendall was staring across the room. He shook his head, thinking hard. Somehow he didn’t think Clark was in the habit of making a mistake. “Could be,” he said. He paused for a few moments, and then started to smile. “Or maybe he said it to add more weight to the story that it was an accident, and not something more serious.”
* * *
Kendall placed the newspaper down on to his desk. He shook his head, and sighed. “When are the authorities going to do something about it?” he asked. “I mean it’s just going on and on. And as far as I can see no one is doing a thing.”
Mollie looked up from her desk. She looked puzzled. “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” she replied. “I’m sure that they are doing all that they can.”
Kendall looked at her, and shook his head. “Like what,” he said. “Just name one thing that they are doing, just one.”
Mollie thought for a moment. “Well, extra beds are being provided by the hospitals for a start.” She paused once again. “Then they have sent everyone that advisory leaflet.” She paused once again. “You know the one about washing your hands, and using a handkerchief.” She paused for another few moments. “And they are working hard trying to find a vaccine.” She looked at Kendall and smiled. “I think that’s pretty good to start with, don’t you?”
Kendall looked at her, and shook his head. “Hospital beds, leaflets, vaccines,” he said. “What are you talking about?”
Mollie looked at him, and glared. “I’m talking about the virus,” she replied. “You asked what the authorities were doing about it, and I’ve just told you.”
Kendall shook his head. “Virus?” he repeated. “I’m not talking about the virus.”
Mollie shook her head. “Well, what are you talking about?” she asked.
Kendall picked up the newspaper, and held the page up for her to see. The headline told her everything. “Miami Lose Again. That makes five in a row.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Kendall explained, tapping the page. “I want to know when the authorities are going to do something about it.”
Mollie shook her head. “Baseball,” she replied. “Who cares about your silly old baseball?”
The question was, regrettably not to be graced with an answer. She would never know who cared, if indeed anyone did, because just then the telephone rang. Mollie picked it up. “Hello,” she said. “Kendall Detective Agency; can I help you?”
Kendall looked at her and glared. No matter how hard he tried he could never get her to say exactly what he wanted. He shrugged his shoulders. It was easy enough. It wasn’t rocket science was it? You didn’t need a degree in Quantum Physics. “Kendall Detective Agency,” he whispered, as he looked across at
her. “How can I help you?”
“It’s for you,” she said. “It’s Peter Dawson.”
Kendall took hold of the receiver, and placed his hand over the speaker. “I hope he’s not expecting results already,” he whispered. “It’s only been a few days.” He shook his head. “I know I’m good, but even I need a little more time than that.”
He removed his hand, and placed the handset to his ear. “Hello, Mr. Dawson, nice to hear from you,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, Mr. Kendall, I’m sorry to bother you. I know how busy you must be.” Dawson took a breath and cleared his throat. “I don’t know if it means anything at all, or whether it is a complete waste of time, but we have just received an email that I think you should know about. I’ve forwarded a copy to you.”
“An email?” Kendall repeated. “Who is it from?”
Dawson took a deep breath. “Someone in Costa Rica, a place called Punta Rojas,” he replied. “His name is Ramone, Luis Ramone.” He paused for a moment and took another deep breath. “I don’t actually know him, myself, but apparently he knew Richard. They met about four or five months ago.”
“So what was the message?” Kendall asked.
“The message was quite simple really,” Dawson replied. “All he said was make sure to ask Trenton about Batch 942/D.”
Kendall remained silent for a while, thinking hard. He shook his head. “Batch 942/D,” he repeated. “Ask Trenton about Batch 942/D, that’s all?”
“That’s all,” replied Dawson.
Kendall sighed. “Does it mean anything to you?” he asked.
“Not a thing, I’m afraid, Mr. Kendall,” Dawson replied. “But of course Punta Rojas means a great deal, as I am sure you will appreciate.”
Kendall nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “The starting place for this current outbreak.”
“That’s exactly right,” said Dawson. “And Richard was working on something about that epidemic.”
Kendall started to tap his fingers on the desk. He picked up his pen and scribbled down the number. He underlined it a number of times, and then added a large question mark. “Batch 942/D,” he repeated once again. “I’ll bear it in mind.” He replaced the receiver.
He shook his head. What connection is there, if any, between this epidemic, and this batch 942/D, he murmured. “More to the point does it have any connection with Dawson’s murder?” He shook his head once again. He would just have to ask Trenton Pharmaceuticals wouldn’t he? However, he wasn’t entirely hopeful of getting an answer. Not a meaningful one, that is.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Two
More Questions
“Sofia Echo”, Athens, Wednesday – “The Greek Health Ministry confirmed the first case of Rican flu today. It was detected in a nineteen year-old Greek student after he returned from Argentina. It is understood that he had been in the Argentine from the beginning of the year, on an exchange visit, and returned to Greece on Saturday. He showed no symptoms on the flight home. He started displaying symptoms from midday on Sunday,” Deputy Health Minister Georgiou Papagdreyou said.
According to the Greek authorities, there is no need for general alarm because it has been reported as a "mild" case and the patient is said to be in "a good condition". He is being treated in the Isolation Unit at Athens Seismanoglou Hospital, to the south of the city. Health officials said that precautionary tests would be conducted on other passengers from the same aircraft. Reportedly, the college student felt unwell early on Sunday and, when examined, was told he had the symptoms of Rican flu. His father took him to the hospital in the early hours of Monday morning after experiencing a cough and high fever. Shortly afterwards he developed respiratory problems, and then a rash started to form. Once the young man had been hospitalized and isolated, members of his family were also taken in for tests.”
* * *
“Mr. Kendall,” a voice called out. “Mr. Kendall,” the voice called again, louder this time.
Kendall looked up from the magazine that he had been reading. The receptionist looked at him, and smiled. “You can go right in,” she said pointing to the door. “Mr. Clark will see you now.”
Kendall looked at the door and smiled. He stood up and started towards the door. As he did so the door suddenly opened. “Ah, Mr. Kendall there you are,” said Alan Clark. “I was beginning to think that you had not arrived.” He stepped to one side to allow Kendall to pass through. “It’s so nice to see you again,” he continued. “Please do go in.”
Kendall slowly walked into the room, and smiled. “It’s good of you to see me.”
“Not at all, it’s always a pleasure,” said Clark as he closed the door. “Do sit down.” Kendall looked at the seat indicated, and sat down. “Now what can I do for you?” Clark asked. “Oh, by the way how is the hay fever?” Kendall looked puzzled. “The tablets are they having any effect,” Clark explained. “The Aller-ease?”
Kendall suddenly realized what was being said. He reached into his pocket and took out a small carton. He held them up. He shook his head. “Sadly, not yet,” he replied. “But I’ll keep trying.”
Clark smiled. “It’s early days yet,” he said. “Another week or two should see a difference.”
Kendall nodded and put the tablets back into his pocket. “Let’s hope,” he said.
Clark nodded. “Now what can I do for you?”
Kendall sighed. “I have a slight problem. Perhaps you can help me.”
“Yes, what is it?” replied Clark.
Kendall shook his head. “It’s probably nothing really, but I just don’t like loose ends, you know.”
Clark shook his head. No he didn’t know. “What’s the problem, Mr. Kendall? Out with it.”
Kendall smiled. He took out his notepad. “When I came to see you the other day you said that Mr. Dawson had come to see you on three or four occasions. He flipped through the notepad. “Yes, here we are. Three or four times, that’s what you said, your exact words.”
Clark smiled and nodded. “That is my recollection,” he replied. “I remember saying that.” He paused for a moment. “I think it was actually three times.” He shook his head. “I really can’t be that sure without checking my diary.”
Kendall smiled. “Perhaps you could kindly do that for me,” he said.
Clark looked surprised. “Well, certainly I can, but I don’t really see the point.” He shook his head and smiled once again. “Was it important?”
Kendall shrugged, “Could be,” he replied. “According to Dawson’s own diary, he only came to see you twice. Once on the seventh, and again three days later, on the tenth, the day he died.”
Clark shook his head. “No, Mr. Kendall you’re wrong, he was here at least three times. Perhaps he just forgot to put it down.”
Kendall nodded. Unlikely, but possible, he thought. A newspaper reporter would be most precise about things like that. “Guess so,” he replied. “Well that’s one little problem cleared up.” He sighed. “I do have another little problem, though. Perhaps you can help me with that one.”
“Well, I’ll certainly try,” Clark replied. “What is it this time?”
Kendall smiled. “I thought that you told me that Richard Dawson had died the day after the accident, at the hospital.” He flipped thought his notepad, and nodded when he had found the page he wanted.
Clark smiled. “That’s right,” he replied, looking slightly puzzled. “That’s what I said, what about it?”
Kendall shook his head. “That’s what you said all right,” he replied. “But it’s not correct. He was actually pronounced dead by the paramedics at the scene.”
Clark shook his head. “Is that so?” he replied. “I mean are you absolutely sure? If so, then clearly I was misinformed, or I misunderstood, one out of the two.” He paused and shook his head once again. “Unless of course my informant simply made a mistake, it happens.”
Kendall looked at him, surprised. Oh yes, certainly mistakes happen, but s
omehow he didn’t think it was a common occurrence where Clark was concerned. “Didn’t you actually see the body then?” he asked.
Clark shook his head. “No, I didn’t,” he replied. “I was at a meeting when I was told about the accident. I have to admit that I never saw the need to actually investigate myself. I had been told that an ambulance had been called. I understood that it was only a minor accident, and that the young man would be all right, and would make a speedy recovery. The necessary accident report was being prepared. There appeared to be nothing for me to do, so I carried on with my meeting.” He paused and shook his head. “A little callous of me, perhaps, but it wasn’t meant to be. I just didn’t think I needed to get involved that was all. It all seemed under control, and everything was in hand.”
Kendall frowned. “Yes, I can understand that. After all, you’re a busy man, and well, things were being attended to.” He shook his head and looked down at his notes. “You mentioned an accident report,” he said.
“Yes, we are obliged, under health and safety laws, to record any accident within our property. It’s a bit of an imposition, but we are supposed to record everything, even to a scratch.” He paused. “It’s the law. If it happened on the site, it had to be recorded. Our Health and Safety Officer sees to that.” He smiled. “She even rules me in that regard.”
Kendall nodded. “And a report was prepared in this case?” Clark nodded. “Could I see it, please?” Kendall asked.
Clark looked at him, and sighed. “Yes, I suppose so,” he replied. “It is in the public record after all. I’ll get you a copy if you like.” He picked up the intercom and pressed the button. “Yes, Jean.”
There was a slight pause. “It’s Barbara sir,” a voice said. “Did you want Jean?”