Drugs to Forget

by Martin Granger

  Nathalie sat in the wheeled metal armchair next to Bob and, as there was no other seat available, Tom perched behind them on the small sofa. Over Bob’s shoulder he could see the three monitors flicker and recognised some of the pictures that Nick and he had taken in Indonesia.

  ‘That’s where we filmed Michael, isn’t it?’ Tom asked.

  Bob’s fingers moved over the keyboard, his eyes still staring at the screens. ‘Michael?’

  ‘Yes, the Javanese policeman.’

  ‘Oh, is that what he’s called. These are really good shots Tom, thought you were a novice.’

  ‘Beginner’s luck.’

  ‘Either that or a bloody good cameraman,’ said Bob still not turning to look at Tom. ‘Didn’t get any shot-list though.’

  ‘That’s my fault,’ said Nathalie turning to Tom. ‘Should have told you, but didn’t realise that you were going to be directing anything. When shooting, we note down some time-code or time of day against the scenes we’re taking. Helps Bob find things quickly.’

  ‘Damn right,’ said Bob. ‘Had a hell of a job in sorting this lot out.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise.’

  Nathalie spun round in the chair again. ‘Not your fault Tom, it’s difficult at the best of times if you haven’t got a PA and you weren’t supposed to know. We are glad just to have the shots.’

  ‘Finished,’ exclaimed Bob sitting back in his chair. ‘I’ve just been playing about with some of these Indonesian rushes. Putting them in to some kind of story. Used the policeman’s interview as most of the guide track and overlaid some of the other stuff taken later. The black holes are where I imagine you would want to put something like lab shots. Anyway see what you think.’

  He pressed a key on the controls and the images came to life on the central monitor. Michael was seen walking amongst a crowd of villagers in a Javanese marketplace. As the camera cut into a close-up his voice came out from one of the speakers. He was explaining how the Surabaya police force had been given information about a clandestine laboratory in the countryside. After some description of the investigation the pictures jumped to a dramatic sequence of the police raid. These images were set into the frame of a mocked-up newspaper page containing shock headlines. Bob paused the film.

  ‘A bit naff, I know, Geoff’s idea.’

  ‘No worries,’ said Nathalie. ‘He’s concerned about the quality of the images but the content of the shots are good enough without the gimmicks. Carry on let’s see the rest.’

  Bob pressed the play button and they watched the remainder of his edit.

  ‘Not bad,’ said Nathalie when he had reached the end. ‘We obviously need some state-of-the-art laboratory footage and perhaps some explanation of how these bugs work. Could use graphics for that. I like the use of the close-ups of the documents. We could do a dissolve from them to the plant in Morocco.’

  Tom was amazed at how the pictures were beginning to tell a story. Suspicions of foul play, strange bacteria being manufactured in a laboratory, evidence of shipping the stuff to other countries, a dramatic police raid, and a car chase. There were a number of black spaces in the video but he could see that Nathalie was already planning the pictures that would be inserted.

  ‘Looks amazing,’ he said. ‘Will you do your African story before or after?’

  ‘Neither,’ replied Nathalie. ‘These aren’t two different films. We’ll inter-splice the African stuff with the Javanese footage, build up a narrative. Perhaps open with the general threat of terrorism today. Talk about the type of weapons used, and the frightening prospect of biological agents. Use the stories we’ve got so far and interweave them to show the threat and the possible countermeasures. This is a good start and I’ve got a better idea of what we need to get from the Moroccan plant. But no documentary’s finished until the last gasp. Our coup will be if we can show that WEXA is a real threat. It could throw the whole programme on its head.’

  She couldn’t have spoken a truer word.

  Twenty-six

  London was waking up as the sun stole the last cloak of night. Nathalie squinted her eyes at the light trickling through the blinds of her Fulham flat. She turned over and pulled the duvet around her. The air was cooler signalling that the long hot summer was coming to an end. The phone on her bedside table began to vibrate. Surely she hadn’t set the alarm this early. She tried to ignore it but realised that it was creeping along the wooden surface and about to plunge like a lemming onto the parquet floor. With one swift movement her hand shot out from the covers and grabbed the suicidal device. The screen announced that it was an incoming call.

  ‘Nick, why in the hell are you ringing me at this time in the morning. Are you still on Java time or something?’

  A Scottish drawl came down the phone. ‘I wish. I’ve just been woken up too. Bloody Sykes. Says we are to pull our meeting with Townes forward. Forward means in the next half-hour.’

  Nathalie checked the time on her phone. ‘That’s crazy, whoever wants to meet at six-thirty in the morning?’

  ‘Townes does apparently. All in a panic. Just had the police round in a dawn raid. Went through his office like a pack of wolves. Something to do with the Surabaya lab. Geoff had told him that I’d been there and he wants to see us fast.’

  Nathalie groaned. ‘I don’t know what he expects us to do. I can’t even think straight this time in the morning.’

  ‘Dress, get some coffee inside you, and I’ll be round to pick you up in the next ten minutes.’ The phone went dead.

  Nick’s car smelt like a transport café.

  ‘Bacon roll?’ He handed her a small greaseproof parcel.

  Nathalie snapped on her seatbelt, unwrapped the paper and took a large bite. She closed her eyes as she chewed on the first succulent mouthful.

  ‘Thought that would get you out of your bad mood,’ said Nick pulling out from the curb. ‘Nothing like a good healthy breakfast to start the day.’

  Nathalie didn’t take the bait. She was wondering how she was going to handle the meeting now this small hand-grenade had been thrown into the arena. Her original objective had been to smooth the way for the Moroccan shoot. Now this Rob Barnes’ thing might really mess that up. She finished the roll, screwed up the paper and pushed it into Nick’s ashtray.

  ‘So what’s Geoff told you?’

  ‘Not a lot more than I said on the phone. This second visit from the police wasn’t announced, unlike the first. They had a warrant. Nearly bashed his door down at four o’clock in the morning and marched him to the laboratory offices. Geoff said he’s really scared, knew that I’d been in Surabaya and wondered if I could help. That’s about it.’

  ‘Did the police find anything?’

  ‘Don’t know, you will have to ask Townes.’

  ‘Me? I thought it was you he wanted to talk to.’

  ‘I’m just the monkey, I’ll leave the agenda up to the organ grinder.’

  Nathalie threw up her eyes; it was too early for her to think of a plan, she would just have to play it by ear.

  ‘Okay then, I’ll do most of the talking. We mustn’t give Townes too much information, he might stop us filming his Moroccan plant. Oh, I think you’ve missed the turning; turn right here, we’ll need to go round the block.’

  This early in the morning it wasn’t difficult to find a place to park. They could see the lights on in the laboratory building lobby so they walked up to the main entrance and pressed the bell. The door opened immediately. Townes must have seen them coming up the path. He looked dishevelled; mismatched jacket and trousers and a creased open neck shirt.

  ‘Thank God you’ve come, I didn’t know what to do. They’ve wrecked the offices. Luckily the warrant didn’t extend to the lab but I think they’re now trying to get access to that. It’s a nightmare.’

  Nathalie closed the door behind her.

  ‘Calm down Professor Townes, we’ll do what we can to help, but why don’t you let us into your office and we can sit down and talk about
it.’

  ‘Of course. I’m sorry, my head is still spinning. Why four o’clock in the morning I don’t know.’

  Nick put out his hand, ‘Nick Coburn, Professor, the guy who visited the lab in Java. Four o’clock in the morning; because that’s the time when you’re at your most vulnerable. If you have any information, they want to catch you off guard.’

  ‘But that’s the point, I don’t have any information. I’ve no idea what Rob has got up to.’

  Nathalie took James Townes gently by the elbow. ‘Like I said Professor, let’s go into your office and we can sit down and calmly talk it through.’

  The office looked like a tornado had passed through it; papers were scattered around the room, filing cabinets left open and drawers upturned.

  ‘Tidy bunch,’ said Nick.

  Townes sighed and shook his head. ‘They said they would put it back but I’d had enough, just wanted them to go.’ He gestured to the cluster of small armchairs nestling around a coffee table. ‘Please sit, I’m afraid I can’t offer you a drink, the staff won’t be in until nine.’

  Nick slumped into one of the chairs. ‘No problem, we’ve had our breakfast. Did they find anything?’

  Nathalie glared at him. ‘Geoff said that you wanted Nick to come along as he’s been to Surabaya recently. We’ll help you all we can but I’m not sure if we know any more than you do. Why don’t you start by telling us exactly what happened.’

  Graven-faced, Townes sat down and told Nick and Nathalie about the first visitation from the police. They were just making enquiries. Some documentation involving the names of Rob Barnes and Biomedivac had come into their possession. They wanted to know what Professor Townes knew about it.

  ‘I told them, nothing, never heard of the lab. Tried to contact Rob but couldn’t get hold of him. Thought the police would leave me alone and go after Rob, but no, this morning…’ James Townes gestured around the room.

  Nathalie flicked her eyes at Nick indicating that she would take the floor. ‘And did they take anything away?’

  ‘No, not a thing.’ Townes paused nervously.

  Sensing there was more Nathalie interjected quietly. ‘Not a thing, but…?’

  Townes folded his arms and took a deep breath. ‘I suppose I should tell you.’

  Nathalie and Nick waited.

  Townes leaned forward as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, even though there was no one else in the room. ‘They wanted Rob’s computer.’

  Nathalie and Nick waited again in silence.

  ‘I’ve done nothing illegal. That computer has proprietary confidential information. It’s technically not Rob’s. I told them that his personal computer might be in his flat.’

  ‘So where is his company computer?’ asked Nathalie softly.

  Townes looked nervously around him, ‘It’s in the laboratory under some apparatus. I put it there after their first visit.’

  ‘Perhaps we should have a look at that,’ suggested Nick.

  ‘I’ve tried, he’s put a new cryptic password on it. Haven’t had time to investigate further, and now this has happened, and I don’t even know what it’s about.’

  Nathalie knew that she had to divulge something to Professor Townes. Geoff had already told him that Nick had been to Surabaya. She made a decision.

  ‘Nick is with security,’ she said hastily skipping what sort of security Nick was in. ‘He was with the Indonesian police force when they raided the laboratory that contained some paperwork with Doctor Barnes’ name on it. Now the consignment note could be quite legitimate, but the laboratory has been involved in some illegal practices so I expect the police want to clarify things.’

  Townes spluttered. ‘But I’ve never heard of any laboratory in eastern Java. Until this week I’d never even heard of a place called Surabaya.’

  ‘There could be some very simple explanation,’ said Nathalie, trying to calm the professor down. ‘Rob could have just been requisitioning some equipment there because it was cheaper or something. Let’s not jump to conclusions, but I’m sure we would know more if we could take a look at Rob’s computer.’

  Eventually James Townes agreed to fetch the computer. He placed it on the coffee table between them and typed in the Biomedivac company password. The laptop protested with a ding. No access.

  Nick reached into his pocket, pulled out a notepad and pen and handed it to Townes.

  ‘Do me a favour Professor. Write down Rob’s date of birth, mother’s maiden name, pet’s name if he’s got one, and the titles of any important papers he’s written. There are other ways of getting into these things but I’d need to give it to a mate of mine, let’s see if this works first.’

  Townes scribbled away and Nick tapped in the words. After an hour they had exhausted the list.

  ‘Okay your staff will be turning up soon, why don’t you and Nathalie tidy up the office while I try one more trick,’ said Nick staring at the piece of paper.

  Nathalie was just putting the last drawer into place when Nick shouted ‘bingo’. She and Townes rushed over to the laptop. The screen had changed and they could see icons of rows and rows of files.

  ‘No idea what it means,’ said Nick. ‘But I stuck in this.’ He handed Nathalie the piece of paper with the words B amyloid circled on it.

  ‘It’s a peptide,’ said Nathalie thoughtfully. ‘Something in a paper that was very important to him, but I thought you tried that before.’

  ‘Yeah, but without the numbers.’

  Townes began to stare at the files on the computer. ‘Numbers?’

  ‘I stuck numbers instead of the letters O and I,’ said Nick. ‘Common practice, luckily one followed by Rob.’

  Townes sifted through the documents, most were familiar but one led to a file containing a series of unconventional correspondence.

  ‘Lazy boy,’ commented Nick. ‘No passwords on the document, must have been in a hurry.’

  ‘I didn’t give permission for this,’ said an outraged Professor Townes, pointing at an e-mail under the Biomedivac letterhead. ‘Why would he order that?’

  The order was for samples of bizarre pathogens. Ones that did not appear in any microbiological textbook. The price was high, but it appeared that it was being paid from a Biomedivac bank account, showing the delivery address, the company’s lab in Morocco and the source, the laboratory in Surabaya.

  Nathalie was careful with her words, ‘It’s possible that he wanted some bacteria to test on a new antibiotic idea that he was working on, or…’

  ‘Or he was getting at me,’ said Townes slowly and deliberately. ‘He’s always borne a grudge, an unwarranted one, but a grudge. If this gets out Biomedivac will be ruined.’

  On the way back to the office Nathalie explained to Nick about the problems that Rob Barnes had had with his original thesis. He genuinely believed that James Townes had taken his ideas and used them for the benefit of Biomedivac without giving him the credit. Whether this was true or not she didn’t know but Townes’ theory of a grudge seemed to fit the picture. When Nick had explained that it would be extremely difficult for the Surabaya police to lay any blame on the UK company, Townes seemed to be partially placated. They all agreed that it would be the best idea to leave the computer in the laboratory; if the UK police found it, then so be it. Townes could genuinely claim that he had nothing to do with the correspondence. However, more likely, the case would be dropped. The Indonesians had got their man and the rest was peripheral, not to say outrageously expensive to follow up. Rather than put the professor off the Moroccan filming, the events seemed to make him more enthusiastic. In fact he would accompany them on the shoot and check with the Moroccan lab first-hand whether they had any more information about the requisition of the illegal material.

  ‘Spider’s web,’ said Nathalie.

  Nick pulled the car up outside of Nathalie’s flat and turned to her. ‘What in the hell is that meant to mean.’

  ‘It’s all coming together,’ she said opening the
door. ‘Your Indonesian thing, Roszak, Rob Barnes and Morocco. I knew it couldn’t be coincidence.’

  ‘Roszak, whoever he is, and Rob Barnes, are you losing it Nathalie?’

  ‘Far from it Nick, spider’s web, but I don’t know who’s in the middle, or why Rob Barnes happened to choose our lab in Indonesia.’

  ‘Anyway, have to dash, I’ll let you work on that one. Tell Geoff I’m around tomorrow if he wants me.’

  ‘Will do,’ she was about to say but Nick was already speeding down the road and weaving in and out of the mid-day London traffic.

  The flat was cold and her bed unmade. Not very welcoming. Nathalie looked in the fridge for something to eat. A couple of natural yoghurts, three eggs and an old piece of ham which was curling up under the plastic wrapping. She looked at the sell-by date on the yoghurts, threw them away and made herself a ham omelette. She was just finishing the last morsel when her phone rang.

  ‘Stefanie, you beat me to it, just got back to my flat. I’ll be in later this afternoon to go through the shoot arrangements.’

  Stefanie’s cultured voice came from the other end. ‘Good, it’s still on then?’

  ‘Absolutely, you can confirm the flights now if you wish.’

  ‘I’ll do that, but it’s not the reason I’m calling. Do you recall that Esther Phillips woman who came into our office some time ago?’

  ‘Of course, I’ve been meaning to try to get to see her. Geoff says she wants to thank me or something, but I’ve been so busy.’

  ‘She’s called in again. They have let her go home and she would like to meet with you. I’ve got her address; if you have the time perhaps you could drop in to see her on your way to the office. It’s only a couple of Tube stops from here.’

  The apartment was in a large row of sombre-looking mansion flats. These buildings made Nathalie shudder, transient dwellings with common halls and stairways. There were about a dozen nameplates on the row of brass bell buttons. Nathalie made out the faded name of E Phillips and pressed one of them. The response was almost instant.