Dewar had understood what she’d said but he didn’t quite understand the implications. He frowned and said, ‘But the sequence of the smallpox virus is available to all scientists. Anyone can access it in the DNA database. ‘What was odd about finding a bit of it on the computer?’
This time Sandra shook her head as if to signify a misunderstanding. ‘Pierre’s sequence,’ she said. ‘Not from database.’
Suddenly Dewar realised what she meant. ‘Oh, I see,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t a sequence he’d taken
from
the database, it was a DNA sequence that he’d
put in
. Something he’d got from an experiment he’d done in the lab. It was
you
who checked it against the database to find out what it was?’
A relieved nod from Sandra.
‘
So Pierre was working in the lab with smallpox fragments that he shouldn’t have had access to?’
‘
Yes.’
‘
And you confronted him about it?’
‘
Yes.’
‘
What did he say?’
‘
Angry … told me … keep mouth shut.’
‘
He wanted you to keep quiet about what he was doing?’
A nod.
Dewar could sense from Sandra’s restlessness that unpleasant memories were starting to flow back at an unwelcome rate. The bleep rate on the heart monitor had started to increase but he had to keep questioning her before she tried to shut them out.
‘
What was he doing with the fragments, Sandra? Where did he get them from?’
‘
Ali’s.’
‘
They were Ali Hammadi’s fragments?’
‘
Pierre found illegal fragments when … he cleaned out Ali’s fridge … lied to Steve … said nothing there. Pierre wanted … to use them.’
‘
Was Pierre trying to make live smallpox virus, Sandra?
Sandra opened her eyes wide as if shocked by the idea. She looked directly at Dewar. ‘Nooooo,’ she replied in along sigh. Even in her debilitated state she managed to convey that she thought this a ridiculous notion.
‘
Are you absolutely sure about that?’
A nod. ‘Pierre found … the fragments he needed for his research … the ones you wouldn’t let him have. Said I could have them too but I said it was wrong and I was going … to tell Steve.’
Dewar thought for a moment before asking any more. If what he was hearing was true, then there was no connection between Le Grice and the Iraqis. Le Grice had simply stumbled across the fragments given to Ali Hammadi and being the ambitious sod he undoubtedly was, he had decided to say nothing and use them to further his research in breach of regulations. Le Grice hadn’t been feigning ignorance of the Iraqis; he’d really had nothing to do with them. He must have panicked when Sandra said she was going to tell Steve and tried to save his career by running her down.
‘
Were there any other smallpox DNA fragments apart from the ones he used?’
‘
Pierre said … a lot.’
‘
What happened to them, Sandra? The other fragments Ali left behind?’
Pierre destroyed them … too dangerous to keep.’
‘
That’s what he told you?’
A nod.
‘
And you believed him?’
‘
Didn’t know what … to believe …’
Dewar could sympathise. He didn’t know what to believe either. ‘Did you try telling Steve?’ he asked.
‘
I tried … phoning but it was difficult … couldn’t make him understand with Pierre …there.’
‘
Did Pierre threaten you at all?’
‘
Tried to persuade me … not to tell Steve. Very angry. Called me stupid. Said I was … ruining my career before it had even started… . I said I would think about it overnight but I just wanted away from him … I was going to tell Steve in the morning anyway.’
But Le Grice knew that, thought Dewar. ‘So you set off for home on your bicycle?’
‘
Ye..s,’ said Sandra as if unsure.
‘
On your bicycle.’
‘
Dark.’
Yes, it was dark but you had your lights on.
‘
Dark.’
Dewar knew he’d reached the limit of Sandra’s recollection. He got up from the chair and drew it back from the bed.
‘
I’m going to let your mum and dad come in now, Sandra and then you must get some sleep,’ said Dewar. ‘I’ll see you again soon.’ Dewar gave the back of her hand a little rub and left the room.
‘
Well?’ asked Grant.
‘
I don’t know,’ replied Dewar, thoughtfully.
‘
She couldn’t tell you anything?’ exclaimed Grant.
‘
Oh yes, she said quite a lot. It was pretty much as we thought. Le Grice
was
working with smallpox fragments that he shouldn’t have had but he told Sandra they belonged to Hammadi. According to him, he found them in a fridge he was clearing out after Hammadi died. He was using a couple of them to help with his research on an AIDS vaccine, not to make live smallpox with. He told Sandra he had destroyed the ones he didn’t need. He never had any direct connection with the Iraqis at all.’
‘
D’you believe it?’
‘
Don’t know. Mind you, a lot of it would fit. Le Grice didn’t seem to know what I was talking about when I tackled him about working for the Iraqis. I thought he was feigning ignorance but maybe not. Then there’s Malloy. He insisted Le Grice would never be so stupid as to try making live virus. Maybe he was right.’
‘
So why have the Iraqis stayed on? Why are they still here?’
‘
Back to square one,’ said Dewar. ‘I don’t know.’
‘
So that’s it,’ said Grant. ‘We’re not going to get any more information from Ms Macandrew, I take it?’
‘
I think she told me everything she knew,’ said Dewar.
‘
Where does that leave us?’
‘
The Iraqis obviously gave smallpox fragments to Hammadi but I don’t think he did anything with them. I think I’m inclined to believe that Le Grice wasn’t trying to make live virus either. He just took the opportunity to steal a couple of DNA fragments for his own ambitious ends. That stopped him reporting the finding and blinded him to the consequences should he be found out and he was, but I think he probably did destroy the fragments he didn’t need.
‘
So there’s no danger to anyone?’
‘
Maybe we should reserve judgement on that until we see what Porton comes up with but I’d bet a month’s salary against them finding live smallpox virus in any of the tubes.’
‘
Call off the police guard on Sandra?’
‘
I think so,’ said Dewar.
‘
All right if we question her tomorrow about the accident?’
‘
Sure.’
‘
And the Iraqis?’
‘
MI5 are calling the shots on that one.’
Dewar checked his watch. It was 3am. The streets were quiet and the wind had dropped. He left the infirmary and crossed the top of Forest Road on his way back to the car. As he did so he caught sight of someone about fifty metres to his left steeping back into the shadows. He smiled; it would be one of Barron’s people keeping watch on the Iraqi student association. At least it wasn’t raining.
Dewar paused as he reached the car. He still had to decide whether he should drive back to North Berwick or stay the night at his hotel instead. If he went back to Karen’s mother’s place it would mean waking up Karen - or worse still, Karen’s mother. That and the earlier embarrassing scene swung him in favour of the hotel. It was the easy way out but he was too tired to take on any other.
Dewar called Karen first thing in the morning. ‘It was after three when I left the hospital,’ he explained. ‘I didn’t want to wake anyone up.’
‘
Very thoughtful,’ said Karen coolly. ‘And now you’re going to tell me you’re going to be tied up all day?’
‘
Certainly not,’ replied Dewar, sounding aggrieved.
‘
I thought we might take Mother out to lunch?’
‘
Good idea,’ said Dewar, trying to sound convincing.’
‘
Good. And we are going to be on our best behaviour, aren’t we?’
‘
Yes dear.’
As Karen had predicted, her mother said no more about the events of the previous evening. Dewar was so relieved that he allowed her to rant without interruption all through lunch at the Grey Walls Hotel in nearby Gullane. He only permitted himself a slight raise of the eyebrows occasionally in Karen’s direction so that she would raise her napkin to her mouth, covering a smile with a pretended cough.
Dewar stayed overnight and went for a walk along the beach with Karen on the following morning. Despite a blustery wind and white horses on the waves they stayed out for nearly two hours during which they decided they would travel back to London together after Dewar had been up to the hospital in Edinburgh to see Sandra Macandrew one last time.
‘
So the danger’s past?’ said Karen.
‘
For the moment,’ agreed Dewar. ‘But it does seem likely that the Iraqis have managed to get their hands on most -maybe even all of the DNA fragments they’d need to make live virus.’
‘
Presumably that would be much harder now with everyone on their guard,’ said Karen.
‘
Let’s hope so,’ said Dewar.
* * * * *
On the following Wednesday, Dewar saw a copy of the report from Porton Down. He had been called into the offices of Sci-Med to discuss it with Macmillan. The people at Porton had been working round the clock and had succeeded in identifying several tubes containing DNA from the smallpox virus. Only two tubes were found to contain DNA not registered to be held by the Institute of Molecular Sciences. Dewar checked their identity. They were the exact two fragments that the people in Malloy’s lab had wanted to continue their research on an AIDS vaccine, the two that Le Grice said he’d taken from those left by Hammadi.’
‘
This more or less confirms what Le Grice told Sandra Macandrew,’ said Dewar. ‘He really must have destroyed the other fragments as he said. All he was interested in were the ones he needed for his research.’
‘
Good,’ said Macmillan. ‘There’s an end to it.’
‘
Have you heard anything from MI5 about Siddiqui and Abbas?’ asked Dewar.
Macmillan frowned. ‘Nothing, apart from the fact they’re still there,’ he said.
‘
Still a worry,’ said Dewar.
‘
Maybe you’re reading too much into it,’ suggested Macmillan.
‘
I’d feel a whole lot better if they’d just get the hell out of there.’
‘
MI5 will continue to monitor their every move and if they’re carrying any of these damned fragments when they do finally leave, we’ll be destroying the lot and bringing their actions to the attention of the UN as well as WHO.’
Dewar nodded. He had hoped he’d feel better about the whole affair when Porton came up with their report but somehow, in spite of the fact that they seemed to have confirmed what Le Grice had told Sandra, he didn’t. He was in danger of becoming paranoid about the continuing presence of the Iraqis in Edinburgh, but part of that paranoia at least was due to Simon Barron who’d said at the outset that their behaviour suggested that they were waiting for something. As to what it was, the question still remained and it still haunted him.
Dewar was given the following week off as terminal leave. This was usual when Sci-Med staff completed assignments. Although Karen still had to work, they made the most of their evenings together, eating out and seeing shows and generally just being together rather than communicating by telephone.
‘
I could learn to like this life,’ said Karen when they returned to Dewar’s flat on Thursday evening after a concert. ‘This must be what normal people do?’
‘
No, they watch television and go to bed early,’ said Dewar.
‘
One of these sounds all right,’ said Karen.
‘
Good to hear it.’
‘
I was talking about television,’ teased Karen. ‘Anything on?’
‘
Nothing at all,’ said Dewar, taking her in his arms. ’But I’m afraid we can’t have an early night.’
‘
Why not?’
‘
It’s already gone midnight.’
The phone rang at half past three. Telephones always seemed louder at that time in the morning, fracturing dreams and silence like an alarm. Dewar fumbled the receiver off the bedside table and brought it clumsily to his ear, half expecting a wrong number apology. Macmillan was on the other end. ‘I’m in my office. I want you over here right now.’
The phone went dead before Dewar had had a chance to say anything at all in reply. He looked at the phone as if
it
were responsible for the incident.
‘
Something wrong?’ asked Karen, who’d rolled over on to her front and was sleepily rubbing here eyes.
‘
I think that’s a safe yes,’ replied Dewar. ‘But God knows what. That was Macmillan. He wants me over there.’
‘
I thought it was too good to last, said Karen pushing her hair back from her face. ‘They’ve got another assignment for you. I knew it.’