by Ken McClure
Another worrying question swam into Dewar’s head. Had Ali committed suicide because he couldn’t face doing something so heinous or because he’d already doneit? The action could have been dictated by guilt. He tried convincing himself that someone in the Malloy lab would have been aware of what he was doing if he’d been working on it in the open lab but the truth was that DNA in a test tube was a colourless liquid regardless of where it had come from. You couldn’t really tell anything by looking at it. You had to establish its sequence to start to make sense of what it was. Even then the code would have to be fed into a computer and compared to the many known DNA sequences held in international scientific databases. Only then could its real identity be established.
Would Hammadi really have risked reconstructing live smallpox virus in the open lab beside his colleagues when he knew that it would have put them all at grave risk? On the other hand, if he had used the high containment facilities in the institute for dealing with dangerous viruses, people would have been aware of it and asked questions about it. This might have forced him to take such a risk. It was not a comforting thought. It was however, the worst possible scenario. Hammadi might have refused to do anything at all. The only thing for sure was that he had killed himself. Guilt or a brave attempt to save his family for pressure?
Thinking back to what Tariq had said before they’d been interrupted, Dewar recalled him saying that Ali had not wanted to take the ‘pieces’, He had not however, suggested that he refused to take them. If Ali had accepted them he must surely have taken them into the institute for storage if nothing else. There was a chance they were still there, sitting in some rack in some fridge, probably innocent looking little plastic tubes. There would have to be a proper examination of the storage space used by Ali Hammadi in Steve Malloy’s lab. and a detailed analysis of the contents.
Dewar’s first instinct was to call a full scale alert but then he reconsidered and thought better of it. As yet there was no proof of the existence of illegal virus fragments or how far the Iraqis had come along the way to reconstituting smallpox. Perhaps the fact that the Iraqi ‘advisors’ were still in the city suggested that they had not got what they wanted otherwise they would surely have been long gone. That was a point, why were they still there? Surely they weren’t hoping to recruit someone else for the job?
Dewar decided to make finding out more about these ‘advisors’ a priority. He’d see Grant about that. He would not push the alarm button just yet. He would wait to see what Grant and Malloy for that matter, could come up with and continue to play it low-key for the moment. He called Karen at her flat when he got in and apologised for not having visited her mother, saying that something had come up.
‘I’ll believe you, thousands wouldn’t,’ said Karen.
‘Believe me,’ said Dewar. ‘I would much rather have spent an evening with your mother, than the one I’ve just had.’
‘Your fears are coming true?’
‘It’s not looking good,’ said Dewar.
‘So you won’t be back tomorrow night then?’
‘I doubt it.’
EIGHT
Grant looked at Dewar long and hard before saying, ‘Are you absolutely sure it’s necessary to tangle with that lot?’
‘I’m sure. What’s the problem?’
‘I know we don’t have full diplomatic relations with Iraq these days but foreigners with any kind of diplomatic status are bad news and these two must have some kind of a deal going. I’ve been down that road before. ‘Bastards can do just about anything they like and get away with it. Maybe one day we’ll get a government who can at least figure out that not all countries fill up their diplomatic corps with gormless, public-school pillocks. We’re the exception rather than the rule. There are some bad buggers out there hiding behind CD plates.’
‘I agree, it’s difficult and I’m not sure what their status is either but I need to find out as much as I can about them. Their names are, Siddiqui and Abbas. The pair of them put pressure on Ali Hammadi to do something for them. I’ve an idea what it was but I need to know whether he did it or not.’
‘And you can’t tell me what it was. Right?’
‘Not right now.’
Grant nodded and sucked his teeth slowly. ‘And if I say no?’
‘I’ll have to go above your head.’
‘Beats me why you didn’t do that in the first place,’ said Grant.
Dewar leaned towards him and said, ‘I thought we could work together. I don’t want to make waves right now in what is a very delicate situation. If I make a mistake and cry wolf where there isn’t one there could be all sorts of unpleasant repercussions, international ones. I could end up being hard-pushed to find work washing dishes.
But you won’t tell me what it’s all about?’
‘Officially I’m here to check that some routine regulations are being complied with. Ali Hammadi’s death was a complicating factor which is leading me to suspect that they have not been complied with. To what extent I’ve yet to find out. Officially, you would be helping me with this.’
‘Regulations,’ said Grant. ‘What sort of stakes are we talking about with these “regulations”?’
‘ On the one hand there could be nothing to worry about. On the other, we could be dealing with something that could affect the whole damned world, cause another war and wipe out millions.’
Grant let out a low whistle.
‘Are you up for it?’
‘I’m in. Can’t see me making superintendent any other way, the way I rub up folks the wrong way round here.’
‘Good. See what you can come up with on Siddiqui and Abbas. I’ll leave you my contact numbers. Get in touch as soon as you have anything. I’m going back to the Institute of Molecular Sciences.’
Dewar didn’t bother going through official channels this time. He simply entered the building behind a group of students and walked past the man on the desk with an air of authority that defied challenge in the untrained. ‘God,’ he thought to himself as the lift started to rise. ‘My grandmother’s coal cellar was more secure than this.
He knocked on the door of the Malloy lab and entered.
‘Hello,’ said Sandra Macandrew. She was alone. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again. Something you forgot?’
‘Is Steve around?’ asked Dewar, choosing to ignore her question.
‘He’s working at home this morning. He took his disks home. He had some paperwork to do for Professor Hutton and the gas board were coming to read his meter. Do you want me to call him?’
Dewar hesitated for a moment before saying. ‘Maybe I’ll go visit him at home. Can you give me his address?’
Sandra hesitated for a moment and Dewar saw her dilemma. He said, ‘If you’d rather, I‘ll go through the proper channels with Professor Hutton. I should have thought.’
Sandra smiled and insisted, ‘No, really. I’m being silly. We know you and you’re some kind of policeman anyway. Steve lives in a converted church building in a village to the south called Temple. Have you got a car?’
Dewar shook his head. ‘I was planning on going by taxi. Is it far?’
‘About eight miles from here. Not that far.’
‘That’s okay. Can you write it down?’
Sandra wrote down Malloy’s address and asked, ‘Would you like me to call you a cab from here?’
‘Thanks.’
Sandra picked up the phone and called the admin. section, asking for a taxi for a visitor to the lab who was just leaving. ‘There’ll be one here in seven minutes,’ she said to Dewar. ‘They always use the same company.’
‘Much obliged,’ said Dewar.
‘Have you managed to find out any more about Ali’s death?’
‘Bits and pieces,’ replied Dewar. ‘Nothing that helps terribly much. I don’t suppose you’ve remembered anything that might be useful?’
‘Where does smallpox come into it?’ asked Sandra, ignoring Dewar’s question and establishing eye cont
act.
‘Smallpox?’ repeated Dewar, taken aback and stalling for time.
Steve started asking all sorts of questions about the smallpox DNA fragments we’ve been using after your last visit. I thought there must be some connection between you, Ali’s death and the smallpox fragments.’
‘I can see why you’re doing a PhD,’ said Dewar. ‘What did Steve say exactly?’
‘He impressed upon George just how important it was that our stocks of fragments should all be accounted for in case there was an impromptu inspection. We were told we had to obey all the rules to the letter and start keeping the place tidier. He got on to Pierre about clearing out Ali’s stuff and creating more fridge space.’
Dewar stopped her with a raise of his hand. He asked, ‘Are you saying that Ali’s stuff wasn’t checked before the audit return was made?’
Sandra moved uncomfortably. ‘No, I’m not saying that at all. George checked it for listed smallpox DNA fragments; Steve asked him to,’ she replied defensively. ‘But naturally there were various tubes and bottles with labels he couldn’t decipher and Ali is no longer around to ask. Steve asked Pierre to take a look before we got rid of it to see if he could decipher anything.’
‘Shit,’ said Dewar
‘What difference does it make? Ali didn’t have anything the rest of us didn’t have access to.’
‘How do you know that?’ asked Dewar flatly.
‘Surely you’re not suggesting that Ali had some kind of secret project on the go?’
Dewar didn’t reply.
‘Oh my God,’ said Sandra. ‘That is what you think, isn’t it? It’s not really Ali’s suicide you’re concerned with at all. That’s not why you’re here. It’s something to do with this smallpox thing, something to do with the reason they banned movement of the fragments.’
There was no point in denying anything, Dewar concluded. He felt l like a government spokesman acknowledging the appearance of new variant CJD. — It was all right to eat your words as long as they didn’t contain beef. On the other hand he didn’t want to enter conversation about it. Instead, he simply asked, ‘Did Pierre Le Grice do what Steve asked him to do?’
‘I’ve not had occasion to look.’
‘Could you look now?’
Sandra looked surprised but she walked across the lab and opened the bottom door of a large fridge-freezer. ‘Yes,’ she said, getting down on her haunches to examine the contents. ‘It’s been cleared out.’
Dewar looked thoughtful.
The phone rang and broke the ensuing silence. ‘Your taxi,’ said Sandra.
‘Here we are,’ said the taxi driver over his shoulder as they drove into a small village of Temple in Midlothian. Dewar could see it was well cared for, pretty without being twee.
‘Where is it you’re looking for exactly?’
‘A converted church.’
‘Know it. They’re a’ goin’ that way these days,’ said the driver. ‘Carpet warehouses, offices, health clubs. Sign o’ the times.’ He pulled up outside the church at the edge of the village and said, ‘There you go.’
Dewar paid him and took a look at the building. There was very little from the outside to suggest that it wasn’t a parish church any longer. The only give-away was the fact that it’s front door had been altered and there was a letter box. He opened the iron gate and walked up the path between the gnarled yew trees on either side. He saw that autumn leaves had started to pile up against the wall exposed to the prevailing westerly wind. He knocked on the red door, wondering whether it would be loud enough. The wood seemed thick enough to absorb the sound but he couldn’t see any bell-push. The sound of music reached him from inside. The door opened and Steve Malloy stood there. Miles Davis was playing in the background.
‘You?’ exclaimed Malloy. ‘I was expecting the gas man.’
‘Maybe he’ll come too,’ said Dewar.
‘Come in. This is a surprise.’
Dewar saw that the interior of the church had been altered extensively to provide an attractive, modern open plan living area. ‘Did you do all this yourself?’ he asked.
‘Mostly. Not because I’m mad keen on DIY but because I couldn’t afford to have anyone else do it by the time I’d bought the place.’
‘Looks like you knew what you were doing,’ said Dewar.
‘Let’s say I learned along the way. Coffee?’
‘If it’s not too much trouble. Thanks.’
Malloy went over to the kitchen area while Dewar continued to look around. All the major features of the original church had been retained, from the gallery to the stone pulpit — now used to house an array of spot-lights, directed at key features. The pews had been removed and the floor area divided cleverly into what amounted to different rooms without there actually being partition walls. Malloy had obviously been working in the office area where the computer had gone on to save-screen mode with fish drifting across the screen and the sound of bubbles softly emanating from the speakers.
‘It must be expensive to heat,’ said Dewar, raising his voice to be heard.
‘It would be if I tried to heat the whole place,’ replied Malloy. ‘But I’ve adopted a zone heating policy, a bit like the days when houses were heated by coal fires. You had heat inside a radius of ten feet from the fire. Outside that semi-circle you froze. I put heating where I’m going to need it and live within these areas.’
Malloy brought two mugs of coffee and handed one to Dewar. They both sat down. ‘What’s the problem?’ asked Malloy.
‘It’s Ali,’ replied Dewar. ‘I’ve found out he was under pressure from Iraqi government officials to do something for them.’
‘What?’
‘Something concerned with smallpox.’
‘Good God,’ said Malloy, ‘You’re serious?’
A friend of Ali’s overheard an argument about “pieces” he was being given. I’m pretty sure they were talking about DNA fragments.’
Malloy shook his head as if not wanting to believe what he was hearing. ‘But If Ali had been doing anything like that we would have known.’
‘Would you?’ asked Dewar.
‘Of course, if you wanted to start assembling something like live smallpox you’d be using the high containment lab all the time.’
‘Or not,’ said Dewar.
Malloy looked at him. ‘You can’t seriously be suggesting that he tried to do it in the open lab?’
‘I’m not in the business of suggesting anything at the moment. I simply just don’t know enough but we have to consider it as a possibility.’
‘But we’re all still alive,’ offered Malloy as rebuttal.
‘I agree that goes a long way towards saying that he didn’t succeed in assembling live virus,’ said Dewar. ‘In fact it’s my real hope that he didn’t even try to do it.. I think he may have refused and ended up killing himself in an attempt to protect his family from the consequences. But the fact remains that it’s an outside possibility. What I think is much more certain is that he was given these DNA fragments and I’d like to know what happened to them.’
‘I asked Pierre Le Grice to check out Ali’s stuff,’ said Malloy.
‘I know. I’ve been to the lab. I spoke to Sandra.’
‘Pierre didn’t say he found anything unusual.’
‘What would he have done with the stuff?’
‘Depends what it was. Solutions and reagents that were clearly labelled and we could still use, he would have kept. Anything unlabelled or clearly finished with he would have put out into the biological waste system to be sterilised and destroyed.’
‘Supposing the fragments had been there.’
‘They couldn’t have been labelled otherwise Pierre would have said something. If they were unlabelled, he wouldn’t have known what they were; he probably destroyed them.
Dewar looked thoughtful. Miles Davis played on in the background. ‘Are the lab test tubes and containers used in the institute standard in all labs?’ he asked.
‘The fragments Ali was given must have come from outside the institute. I just wondered whether or not Le Grice might have noticed containers that were foreign to the institute even if they hadn’t been labelled.’
It was Malloy’s turn to appear thoughtful. Eventually he said, ‘I think we should go and ask him.’
As they prepared to leave for the institute there came a knock to the door. Malloy opened it to admit the gas man.
‘A bit spooky living in a church,’ said the man, making a note of the reading. ‘Just think of all them funerals and that.’
‘I concentrate on the christenings,’ said Malloy.
The gas man left and they started out for the institute in Malloy’s Ford Escort. The traffic was light and the journey took less that twenty minutes.
Sandra Macandrew raised her eyebrows when she saw Dewar appear in the lab yet again but didn’t say anything. Malloy called Le Grice into his office and closed the door without explaining anything to the others.
‘Pierre, when you cleared out Ali’s stuff did you come across anything unusual?’
Le Grice looked puzzled. ‘Unusual in what way?’ he replied.
‘Did you find anything there that shouldn’t have been there? Anything against the rules?
‘No.’
‘Anything that looked as if it might have come from another lab, you know, different kind of container to the ones we use, that sort of thing.’
‘No, nothing like that. There were lots of tubes with labels I didn’t recognise, things that only Ali would have understood but nothing out of the ordinary.’
‘What did you do with the unlabelled tubes?’