“And did he... What happened?”
“He didn’t make it. We were devastated.”
There was a short silence. Then Katie said, “That explains why it was all so much on Gemma’s mind.”
“What exactly did she say?” Caspar asked.
Katie tried to remember. “I’m not sure I’ve got the exact words, but it went something like: ‘Sangha fever! It’s spreading. What can we do?’ She was really agitated and I tried to soothe her. And then, yes, I remember this bit clearly. She said, ‘Perhaps it’s not too late? Is it too late?’ I told her that it wasn’t too late and that everything was alright. That seemed to settle her.”
“Poor Gemma!”
“But surely she must have known that nothing she could have done would have made a difference?”
“That’s true,” Caspar admitted, but she sensed a reservation in his voice.
“But?” she said. “You don’t sound quite sure.”
He picked up his coffee – surely cold by now – and took a sip.
“Caspar?” she said, forgetting in her determination to get to the bottom of this that he was the director and she was just a lowly technician.
He seemed to come to a decision. “What I said was quite right. There was nothing we could have done to halt the spread of the disease. It had already got out of the village. They worked out later that it had been brought there by a boy who got infected while he was visiting his uncle in a neighbouring village. He was incubating the disease when he arrived at his boarding school. That was where he became sick. His parents took him home, but by then he’d already infected his classmates and that was the outbreak the authorities were dealing with when we contacted them.” He hesitated.
Katie waited for him to go on.
He lowered his voice, though there was no one near enough to hear them. “When I got to the village, I found Gemma sitting at the edge of the clearing. She was overwhelmed, almost catatonic. She was so horrified by what she had seen that she was just frozen. She’d done nothing. She hadn’t even informed the authorities. I had to do that.”
“So there was a delay?”
“Not much of one. A couple of hours, maybe. As I said, it made absolutely no difference to the spread of the disease.”
Katie thought about that. “But it did delay the arrival of the nursing team, didn’t it?”
“Even that couldn’t have made a difference. The disease was too far advanced for anyone to survive.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He passed a hand wearily over his eyes. “Don’t you think I’ve been haunted by that question? I am as sure as I can be.”
But how sure was that? From what Katie had seen online, the disease was so new that even now not much was known about its progress. Research was still in the early stages.
Katie could see that Caspar was keen to play down what had happened. But even if it was true that no one could have survived, they would at least have had nursing care in their last hours. If Caspar was haunted, how must Gemma have felt when she came to her senses?
Caspar said, “I didn’t tell Gemma’s sister this.”
“No, no,” Katie agreed. Mary didn’t need that added to her burden of grief and guilt.
“In fact, I haven’t told anyone. Until now. No one knows – except...”
“Except?”
“I’ve sometimes wondered about Bill. If he suspected, or if Gemma let something slip. He was out there doing some malaria research. We were all in Kinshasa at the same time. Just a feeling. If so, he’s never said anything, or not to me, at any rate.” He glanced at his watch and gave a start. “I’m going to be late. I’m interviewing postdocs for a project that I’ve just got funding for. Got to dash. Caitlin,” he looked into her eyes and held her gaze, “this is just between the two of us, yes?”
“Of course,” she said, flattered by his confidence in her.
“And I haven’t forgotten about that copy of Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur. I’ll put it in your pigeon-hole.”
CHAPTER 35
Katie was back at her desk, and was just thinking that she needed to go to the loo, when the lab door swung open. She glanced round. Caspar came in with a group of people. These must be the candidates for the postdoc position he had mentioned. She’d turned back to her desk before she registered with shock what she’d seen. One of them was someone she knew – and, more importantly, someone who knew her. It was Minnie. She was a young postdoc and a couple of years ago they had worked at the same lab near Ely.
Katie fixed her gaze on her work and thought furiously. She couldn’t leave the lab without walking past them and drawing attention to herself. With Katie’s new hair and make-up it was possible that Minnie wouldn’t recognize her. It wasn’t as if they had been close friends. On the other hand, they had actually been at adjoining benches. She only hoped Caspar wouldn’t think to introduce the candidates to people working in the lab, but there was no reason why he should. He was only showing them where they’d be working. And sure enough, after a few minutes, they all trooped out again.
Katie’s heart was racing. That had been a narrow escape. It looked as if she was safe for now. But what if Minnie got the post? Katie would just have to hope that she’d be long gone by then. Another reason to crack on.
She allowed plenty of time for Caspar and his group to leave the building before she went to the loo. She was just touching up her lipstick when the door swung open and Maddie came in. They smiled at each other, and Maddie went into a cubicle. The door opened again and Katie saw with a jolt that it was Minnie. Minnie put her handbag on the ledge by the mirror and got out a hairbrush. Her eyes met Katie’s in the mirror and she gave the half-smile of friendly acknowledgment that women exchange with other women. She looked away, but Katie saw the moment when realization began to dawn. She stopped brushing her hair and her gaze swung back to Katie. She opened her mouth to speak. Katie shook her head vigorously and put a finger to her lips.
Minnie stared with her mouth still open.
Katie rummaged in her own bag and found a receipt. She scribbled, “You don’t know me! Tell no one! Text me this evening,” and she wrote down her mobile number. She handed it to Minnie, who took it in in a glance, and nodded.
Behind them the loo flushed and Maddie came out. Minnie thrust the receipt into her bag.
* * *
“What’s going on?” Minnie asked. “I thought you were in Thailand.”
It was the evening and Katie was in her apartment. Minnie had texted and given Katie her phone number. Katie had rung her.
“Yes, that’s what you’re meant to think,” Katie told her.
It was no good; she would have to take Minnie into her confidence. She told her about Lyle’s suspicions, about how she had come to Debussy Point under a false name to work as a technician, and about her efforts to replicate Claudia’s work.
Minnie was clearly fascinated. She said, “D’you think it’s just the flu research, or is there something dodgy about the whole place? I really need to know. I mean, what if I get offered the job?”
“Look, Minnie, not a word to anyone, OK? I’m sure it’s not the whole place and I don’t know that there is anything dodgy at all. There might be nothing in it.”
“Bet there is, though. Wow, it’s exciting!”
Katie groaned inwardly. “I mean it, Minnie. It would wreck Claudia’s reputation. And like I said, I haven’t found anything wrong, so please, please, keep it under wraps. You mustn’t tell a single soul!”
Minnie hastened to reassure her. “Oh, I won’t, I won’t. Well, except Sam, of course.”
Sam was her boyfriend. Katie knew him too, because he’d also worked in the lab at Ely.
“No! Not even Sam. No one at all. Promise me.”
“Well, alright,” Minnie said reluctantly. “But you’ll tell me what happens, won’t you? It’s only fair.”
Katie said she would, and was about to end the call, when Minnie said, “Hang on a minu
te. Who did you say Claudia’s PI was?”
“I didn’t, but it was Gemma Braithwaite.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “She’s the woman who’s just died of malaria!”
“Yes, she is, but that can’t have anything to do with Claudia or her work – or with the lab, for that matter.” Katie only hoped that was true. But surely it had to be. She went on: “Gemma probably contracted malaria when she was doing fieldwork in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.”
Minnie had been struck by another thought. “I’ve not ever met Claudia, but I’m sure I heard something about her,” she said. “It’s not a very common name, is it?”
“What sort of something?”
Minnie pondered. “Now what was it? It might have been Sam who told me. Just let me think. No, it’s no good. I expect it’ll come to me when I’m thinking about something else. It was something interesting, I do remember that.”
“Well, let me know when it comes to you.”
“Oh, I will!”
“And Minnie, remember what I said –”
“Yes, yes, I know. You can trust me.”
Katie hoped to goodness that she could. This wasn’t something she had anticipated at all – that someone from her past would actually turn up at Debussy Point. If Minnie didn’t keep quiet, it could blow the whole thing apart.
She’d better let Lyle know what had happened.
CHAPTER 36
MONDAY
“To sum up,” Caspar said, “a smoke test showed that the seal on our Cat 3 lab in the malaria facility is completely intact. The records also show that all the infected mosquitoes are accounted for and there were no failures of negative air flow. There’s no way a mosquito could have escaped.”
It was Monday morning. Katie had spent most of the weekend inventorying the stores. She had just sat down at her desk, intending to match the details of what remained in the stores with what Claudia had used – or said she had used – when Maddie came in and told her that Caspar had called a meeting in the staffroom. As they walked along together, she learned from Maddie that Bill was off sick. That was no surprise.
Caspar’s news had prompted a sigh of relief all round.
He went on, “And in any case, the health and safety people have done an inventory and no mosquitoes are missing from the Cat 3 lab. They’ve agreed that protocol was followed to the letter – excellent record-keeping, Maddie. So, a clean bill of health. The lab has been fumigated, HEPA filters incinerated and so on. You’re all good to go, and the lab reopens this afternoon.”
That was excellent news, but all the same no one, she guessed, could be happy about the situation. Because, even though Gemma’s infection couldn’t be traced back to the lab, its source remained a mystery. And it was still a fact that someone had died of a disease that was held in the lab. That had ratcheted the enquiry up to a whole new level and made it even more imperative that they get to the bottom of what had happened.
Caspar cleared his throat. “There’s one more thing. The enquiry hasn’t actually finished. I don’t understand it myself, but the inspectors have been through the computer records and it’s thrown up something rather odd. I don’t know if anyone can shed light on it.” He hesitated. “It looks as if Gemma herself visited the Cat 3 lab one evening. Her key card was used to enter and exit.”
There was a puzzled silence. Then Maddie said, “When was this?”
“The night of Sunday the sixth of January. The card registered her going in at 1:30 a.m. on the Monday morning and leaving half an hour later.”
Katie counted the days back from when Gemma became ill. From the frowns on the faces of those around her, she guessed that they were also doing the maths and coming to the same conclusion. If Gemma had got infected that night, the timing would work. Though the incubation period could range from a week to a year, it was generally between nine and fourteen days.
“But that’s bizarre,” Tarquin said. “What on earth was she doing there in the middle of the night?”
“She didn’t fill out the log,” Maddie stated. “I’d have noticed that.”
“That’s right,” Caspar said. “No one filled it out that night – and security don’t have a record of a lone-worker alarm being issued either.”
“What about the CCTV camera? No, don’t tell me.” Tarquin clapped his hand to his head. “That was the week it was on the blink again. But what are we saying here? That Gemma went in and that was how she got infected? It’s crazy!”
“It’s crazy that she was in there at all,” Maddie said. “Why would she do that?”
“It’s stranger than that,” Caspar said. “There’s no other record of her being in the building that evening.”
“She didn’t want anyone to know that she was there. It gets weirder,” Tarquin said.
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Maddie said. “A computer glitch. Maybe no one went in.”
“They’ll be looking into that, of course,” Caspar said. “I’ll keep you informed.”
With that the meeting was at an end and people began to drift back to work.
* * *
Katie was uneasy, very uneasy. What was all this about? Gemma had no business being in the Cat 3 malaria lab. Could she have been checking up on the work there, just as Katie was checking on Claudia? But why would she have been doing that? It didn’t make sense.
She had a chilling thought. Could Gemma have deliberately infected herself, perhaps out of a sense of guilt for her behaviour in the DRC? Surely not! That would be such a bizarre way of killing yourself – and not a very reliable one either. Katie very much doubted that there was a one hundred per cent infection rate among mosquitoes exposed to infected blood, so you couldn’t be sure that you’d picked one that was actually carrying malaria. One mosquito and one bite – that just wouldn’t be enough. It would be like playing Russian roulette. If you wanted to make sure, it would be better to inject yourself with infected blood or – Katie had a sudden nightmare vision of Gemma thrusting her bare arm into a box full of mosquitoes and allowing them to feed on her blood. She shuddered. Whichever way you went about it, you’d have an agonizing wait for the first symptoms to show and that might take weeks. It was hard to believe that anyone would do something so morbid, let alone someone like Gemma. But then again, who knew what had lain under her confident, even arrogant, exterior? Perhaps it had all been an act, and after what happened in that village in the DCR she had been far more fragile than anyone suspected.
This wouldn’t do. She was letting her attention wander. Better get back to work. It didn’t help that it was a tedious task, trying to square the inventory with what Claudia had used, and it wasn’t as if she was expecting to find anything. She found herself yawning. But as she dug deeper, there did seem to be something not quite right. She pushed back her seat and frowned. What she was seeing didn’t quite add up, but maybe it was her maths that was at fault. She’d have to do those calculations again. She’d better have a break first. She was craving a cup of coffee. She decided to go to the staffroom rather than trek over to the canteen.
She stopped off at the staff pigeon-holes on the way and found that Caspar had left a copy of Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur for her. She was touched and impressed that even with everything that had been going on, he had remembered that. It looked like the same edition that she had seen in Gemma’s bedroom. In fact it looked to be the same book. She didn’t quite like the thought, even though Gemma hadn’t had anything infectious.
As she went down the corridor, she heard raised voices issuing from the open door of the staffroom and, as she got closer, she began to make out some words.
“How dare you!” It was a female voice, high-pitched and shrill.
Another voice, with a Scottish accent; that had to be Tarquin: “Admit it – you’ve been caught out.”
Maddie was approaching from the other direction and their eyes met. Maddie raised her eyebrows in enquiry and Katie shrugged. They reac
hed the door at the same time.
Tarquin was leaning against the counter near the fridge with a sardonic expression on his face. The woman was Claudia. She was standing in the middle of the floor with her hands on her hips. Her lips were compressed and her face, always pale, was so white that the freckles stood out more than ever.
“What’s going on?” Maddie asked.
Tarquin said, “I’ve caught the sandwich thief.”
“You mean...”
“Yep.” He pointed at Claudia. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while.”
“I deny it. I absolutely deny it,” Claudia said.
Tarquin stroked his beard and regarded Claudia for a few moments. Then he said, “You absolutely deny that you took my slice of carrot cake out of the fridge?”
“I do.” This was said with defiance. “And you can’t prove otherwise.”
“When did this happen?” Maddie asked.
Tarquin and Claudia spoke at once.
“Just now,” Tarquin said.
“It didn’t happen.” Claudia’s voice rose. She spoke over him. “I was in here, having a cup of coffee. Tarquin came in and he suddenly accused me. How dare you!”
“So let’s get this straight,” Tarquin said calmly. “I repeat: you categorically deny that even as we speak, my piece of carrot cake is nestling in your handbag?”
“What?” Claudia yelped. “Of course I do! If it’s not in the fridge, that’s nothing to do with me.” She paused. “Wait,” she said slowly. “How do we know there ever was a piece of carrot cake in the fridge? Perhaps you’re the sandwich thief and you’re just trying to throw suspicion on someone else.”
Tarquin laughed. “Nice one, Claudia! I’m impressed. You’re right, of course. Attack is the best means of defence. But the question’s easily settled. Why don’t you let Maddie or Caitlin have a look in your handbag and prove me wrong?”
An Air That Kills Page 19