CHAPTER 43
In Nairobi, it was not yet 6pm, but Jimmy Banda had been sitting in the Nyayo Bed and Breakfast for well over an hour waiting for Luther Jasman.
It wasn't that he was always early for appointments but Louise had decided she needed the entire office including Jimmy's desk and chair for a book-keeping meeting with a client. But Jimmy didn't mind. The Nyayo B and B was run by an old school friend, Emmanuel, who not only chatted to him while mopping the kitchen floor but kept Jimmy's coffee mug topped up. When Jimmy returned from a visit to the men's room a short man in a dark suit was ringing the bell in the reception area.
"Ah," said Jimmy still pulling up his zip fastener, "You must be Luther."
"Yes sir," said the man - a short, but neatly presented young man of Indian descent with, as Jimmy noticed, an open necked shirt and no tie. Jimmy tightened his own tie in response.
"Cup of coffee?" Jimmy asked.
"Thank you."
Jimmy led Luther Jasman to the seat he had been warming for the best part of an hour and called out to Emmanuel for two more coffees.
"Yes, I met Greg O'Brian at an Irish Embassy reception." Jimmy said, roughly picking up where he had left off on the phone earlier. "We got chatting. I told him about my part time work at the University - I teach accountancy. Anyway, long story cut short, he asked about students. I said, no problem, how many did he need. He said he had problems recruiting staff and thought students on work experience might help."
Jimmy paused and glanced at Luther Jasman's hands. He was turning and twisting a new and shiny, gold wedding ring on his finger.
"What is your opinion?" Jimmy asked but then gave him no time to reply. "Mr O'Brian gave me your name. You must be very important with Shah Medicals."
"No. I am only in charge of product registration. I am a graduate of the faculty of biology, you see. It is not so complicated, really."
"It sounds very complicated to me,"
"Oh no sir, not for me," admitted Jasman, "The products are quite simple. I've been there for four months."
"So what will you want the students to do?"
"I suppose to help in the laboratory. I have been told we have new products coming very soon."
"So, what sort of students do you need?"
"Perhaps microbiology students, perhaps pharmacists or nurses. We need students who understand infection control. That is my interest. I also understand we need a production engineer."
"If I may say so, you seem a bit vague about what the company is planning to do."
Emmanuel brought two mugs of coffee and Luther Jasman lifted one to his lips, decided it was too hot and put it down again. Jimmy drank his.
"It is a new company you see, sir."
"So, if Mr O'Brian isn't your boss, who is?"
"A French man. He reports directly to Mr Mohamed Kader, sir."
"Ah, France," said Jimmy, "I know it well - Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysees, Marble Arch. His name's not Jacques Piquant is it?"
"No sir, it's Dominique Lunneau. We can call him Don."
"So how many people work for you, Luther?"
"Just three, sir. They are from Pakistan. They are allowed here because they are qualified in biotechnology from the University of Karachi."
"Three, did you say? That is a lot."
"Yes, sir, but we are not so busy yet. We are waiting for the new products to come from Egypt."
"Egypt? Pakistan? It is a very international company you work for. Lots of career opportunities I would imagine. I wish you luck."
Luther Jasman started to turn the ring on his finger more rapidly, nervously, and Jimmy knew he had pushed him as far as possible - too far in fact. Hoping Luther would not remember too much about the meeting he'd had in the Nyayo B&B, Jimmy decided to wind it up in case a few more stories came into his mind and he completely overdid it. He stood up.
"Well, thank you, Luther. I'll be in touch as soon as possible. How many students did you say you could use?"
"Perhaps three, Mr, uh......"
"Mr Franklin," said Jimmy and left Luther still drinking his coffee.
From his car, Jimmy sent a text to the other Mr Franklin he knew in Bangkok.
CHAPTER 44
I was still sat waiting for Kevin Parker's call to whoever it was to finish. As I waited, it bleeped. It was a text message from Colin. "Phone Jimmy."
I did and got an excited, fifteen-minute summary of what Jimmy had done in the space of the last six hours. There wasn't much there yet but, at least Jimmy had made a start and the Pakistan link was interesting. Perhaps Clive's comment that MI6 and CIA had been watching Mohamed Kader's visits to Pakistan could now be explained as a recruitment drive. But why Pakistan?
"So, Mr Franklin, can I invoice Colin for two hours work?" Jimmy asked.
"Yes," I said. "Make it five hours - after all I'll be paying Colin. And I'll be in touch again, Jimmy. There's more to do on this case. Meanwhile, just keep mum."
"Keep mum?" asked Jimmy.
"Yes, it's an English expression for don't tell anyone."
I knew Jimmy would remember that: A mum ferret.
CHAPTER 45
Kevin was taking his usual long lunch break and as it was a pleasant sunny day he decided to take a casual stroll to clear his mind from thinking about his possible arrest on suspicion of involvement in bioterrorism. With no particular route in mind he walked towards Bristol Zoo, up onto Clifton Downs and then towards Brunel's famous suspension bridge over the Avon Gorge. Here, the sun was warm enough for him to remove his Liverpool FC sweater.
Tunje had phoned him at one point but apologised for having hit a wrong button on his phone and the call had only lasted long enough for Kevin to ask whether Tunje had changed sides to work for MI6 and was monitoring his movements. He had bought a packet of sandwiches and a can of Coke from a local shop and sat down to eat his lunch on a wooden bench overlooking the bridge. As he unwrapped his sandwich, his mobile phone rang yet again.
"My name is Daniel Capelli," the caller said, "Am I speaking to Kevin Parker."
Kevin was very tempted to say no but said yes.
"Forgive me for calling you, Kevin - may I call you Kevin? - but I wondered if you could help me. I am working for a pharmaceutical company in the USA who have reported the loss of some research material they were developing for use in treating virus infections, like influenza. I have reason to believe it may have got into the wrong hands and I am looking for some help."
Kevin was not sure what to say. The man was English, he could tell that. The only question was his name - Capelli sounded Italian and mafia instantly came to Kevin's already paranoid state of mind.
"Well, I'm a lecturer in Economic History. How could I possibly help?" Kevin said. He was pleased with his reply but had already lost his appetite for the sandwich lying on his knee.
"Because I've recently logged onto your Malthus Society website and something caught my eye."
Kevin's stomach turned. It wasn't due to hunger but he swallowed anyway. "I see," he said and decided to wait to see what came next.
"Does the name David Solomon mean anything to you, Kevin?"
So, Kevin thought, there is something about this man. "Uh, yes," he replied.
"Do you know much about him?"
"I knew nothing until two days ago," said Kevin thinking that if this was a straw floating past his sinking body he might, at least, try to grasp it.
"And what happened two days ago?"
"He put something on the message board. It rang a few alarm bells. A friend of mine then checked him out."
"And?"
"Alarm bells are still ringing."
"What did you find out? Can you tell me?"
"I'm not sure who you are."
"I'm a private individual, Kevin, a professional investigator of industrial fraud and I feel we may have uncovered something here - something that borders on serious crime. If you are in any way involved or know anything then please tell me."
Kevin thought about it. The phone call had come out of the blue but he needed a friend in England, not Larry Brown in faraway Nigeria or Tunje who never took things seriously enough or Tom who sometimes seemed too old to care. Was this a chance to share the worries he had been carrying around with him since he met Mohamed El Badry? Kevin decided to grab the straw.
"David Solomon is, to use a phrase of my old friend, Tom, a nutcase," he began.
"Why?"
"Some of his views are extreme. The Malthus Society and myself in particular advocate action to persuade governments to take population control seriously. We do not advocate or support implementation of population control methods that have not been adequately debated and agreed. We might be impatient but we do not do anything without some sort of democratic accountability," said Kevin as if reading from one of his own past writings.
He paused but then went on:
"For example, he wrote in one article, 'unless we want to destroy everyone, we must have an effective drug or vaccine available in advance of the release of the virus - to use selectively in order to retain proper scientific control.' And then came his posting on the Malthus site about the day of reckoning."
For Daniel, this fitted neatly around everything he had imagined and he admitted as much to Kevin. "That's exactly what I thought, Kevin. Will you help me?"
In reply, Kevin described his and Tunje's meeting with Mohamed El Badry. Then:
"A friend of Tunje's works at the American Embassy in Nigeria. A doctor working at the Embassy was the one who reported the Nigerian cases to the WHO. His name is Larry Brown."
They talked for a while longer until it was quite clear, the battery on Kevin's phone was nearly exhausted.
"We need to talk more, Kevin," Daniel said. "I'll phone you again very soon. And I'd like to talk to Larry Brown. Feel free to tell him that you and I have spoken and that I'll call him soon."
"Can we meet?" asked Kevin suddenly anxious to put a face to the caller and perhaps shake his hand.
"Yes, we may need to but I'm calling from Bangkok."
Unimpressed by his latest discussion with the WHO, Larry toyed with the idea of raising his concerns with the Ambassador. At least, he thought, he might be able to start a ball rolling somewhere. Unable to contain his impatience any longer he phoned the Embassy in Abuja.
"Larry, how's our discoverer of new diseases? Found any more?"
"Not yet. But I'm uncovering other things which bother me."
"Spill the beans, Larry. I'm all ears. By the way, how's the commercial scene? Anything happening on the healthcare front down there? How's the team supporting you?"
Larry had no wish to go into his other frustrations just at that moment. Joseph was sitting within easy throwing distance and he had no wish to get tangled up in a staffing dispute, just yet at any rate. So, he said, "Fine."
"So what's biting you, then Larry? The mosquitoes down there? Hah!"
Larry also didn't want a session of humorous camaraderie just at that moment. He was seething not only with a feeling that things needed putting right in the Embassy's commercial section but in the international system governing control of medical research. That was why he was phoning and he still hadn't worked out where to start. At the end looked a good place in this instance.
"No, the mosquitoes aren't biting but something like a new version of SARS might. It might even get you, too, Mister Ambassador - it'll certainly not care who it decides to infect or how many."
"Yes, you warned me about that Larry. I now keep a clean handkerchief in my pocket. But you sound a bit serious if I may say so."
"How does a million deaths from a SARS-like virus just in the USA sound?"
"You serious?"
"Let me describe a scenario to you. Imagine, if you will, a country that deliberately spreads a virus, like SARS, with no known cure with the intention of wiping out hundreds, thousands or perhaps millions of people in a neighbouring country. Would you call it war using biological weapons, sir?"
"Yes, I would, Larry, although wouldn't it kill the aggressors as well? But go on."
"And if it was carried out inside their own country against an ethnic minority for instance it would be called ethnic cleansing or genocide, right?
"Yes, I suppose so. But...."
Larry gave him no chance to butt in.
"But if it is a private company releasing the virus because they had a treatment or a vaccine ready to launch to make huge profits from, what would you call that, sir? Good business practice?"
"I'd call that very unethical, Larry."
"Yes, and what would you say if some of the scientists behind creating that virus and developing the drug or vaccine not only had a commercial interest in it but held some very extreme political views about the need to reduce the world's population for a hundred reasons that they would, if needed to, site as indisputable evidence for their actions?"
"But that's ridiculous, Larry. They wouldn't be allowed to get away with it with all the checks and balances in place on research of that sort."
"Are you sure there are any proper checks and balances? Because I'm not and I've looked. There are no international policing systems in place. Any rogue scientist could team up with any rogue businessman with a history of fraud or malpractice and hell bent on making even more money - and what's there to stop it?"
"Are you sure, Larry?"
"Yes, sir. I've checked. And what's more I think we are facing just that scenario out there right now and no-one knows about it or, even if they did, can do anything about it. We might even be too late. I believe those deaths up in Kano were part of what we might call in the world of ethical medical practice a clinical trial. A cleverly chosen place if I may so. A place where the locals have no trust in the system for reporting problems like this, a place where unsubstantiated rumour spreads far faster than facts and just a small corner of a vast area currently fighting a war against Islamic insurgency. And the doctor running the field tests has since disappeared, as you know. "
In Abuja, the Ambassador leaned back in the big leather chair behind his desk. "OK Larry, hang on. Let's test this theory of yours out," he said and picked up the other phone on his desk. Then he pressed a button and Larry heard him say:
"Julie, when they open the shop, can you find me somebody to talk to in the Department of Health and Human Services in Washington. Then do the same thing with the US Federal Drug Administration. We'll take it from there."
Then he turned to Larry again. "Larry, my friend, you've just made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Give me a while and I'll get back."
CHAPTER 46
With Anna already asleep, I phoned yet Colin again.
"Firstly, Colin, you can expect an invoice from Jimmy. He's done brilliantly. Secondly, can you check another name for me? Clive in Cyprus might help you on this one if you need a lead. There is, or was, a small pharmaceutical manufacturer in Beirut - a French owned company - they lost their French production engineer last year. Can you put a name to him? Better still, can you get a photo?
"Thirdly, have you had any contact with Nagi in Cairo recently?"
There was a noticeable delay from the other side.
"Is that it? I was waiting for a fourth. Answers as follows: Jimmy - yes, OK, but I won't hold my breath - for a supposed accountant he really needs to speed up his own invoicing. The missing French chap - I can ask Simone in Paris about that. As far as Nagi is concerned I haven't heard from him for a while but that doesn't mean he's not operating. For good reasons at present he doesn't like reminders about his old life with the Egyptian Security Forces.
CHAPTER 47
Someone had once told Larry that if you've tried pushing and it fails, try pulling. So, with his efforts to find companies willing to invest in Nigeria failing, he decided to try a new strategy - identify the demand and then meet it. But with Joseph still busy organising his computer show, Larry decided to give himself the rest of the afternoon off to sit and think in the peace of his own apartment. But he had barely arrived when Kevin called with a summary of his conversation with someone called Daniel Capelli.
"He said he'd call you, Larry." Kevin finally concluded. "I don't know much about this guy except he seemed as worried as we are and he's English."
Listening to Kevin's obvious relief at having had a phone conversation with an unheard of English guy based in Bangkok, Larry pondered on whether being English meant anything at all these days. He continued to potter about his apartment and then settled himself in front of the TV with a can of beer and a sandwich to watch CNN or some other US channel. But he had just taken the first bite when his phone rang again.
Daniel introduced himself and began with an explanation of what he did and why he had gone to Bangkok. Larry interrupted. "Is your client, Biox?"
"No," said Daniel, honestly, but intrigued how quickly Larry had mentioned the company. "Why do you ask?"
"They lost a couple of scientists some time back and I know the boss, Josh Ornstein. I happened to speak to him only last week. Respiratory viruses, influenza, SARS are his thing and his company gets a lot of research funding. But I sensed a strange interest in the Nigerian deaths. It was as if he was suspicious of something but couldn't go as far as to admit it."
Larry, by this time was strolling around his apartment holding the phone. “David Solomon was one of the guys they lost. Guy Williams was another."
Large bits of Daniel's jigsaw suddenly started falling rapidly into place. He let Larry continue.
"And Kevin has told me some interesting things about Solomon's background," Larry went on. "Are you aware of this?"
"Yes," said Daniel.
"So, is your client Virex?" asked Larry.
"Not allowed to say, Larry, but you've just arrived in Boston, Massachusetts as if by intuition."
Larry gave a short laugh. "Charles Brady," he said. "Good old Charles. He and Josh Ornstein are like two dogs - they bark at one another. One minute they play together, the next minute they are trying to tear each other apart. So, does the bickering have any relevance?"
A question like that was what Daniel was trying to answer but the more people he could find like Larry, Kevin, Jimmy in Nigeria and one or two others he was thinking of engaging the quicker the answers might come.
"The bickering is a side show I suspect, Larry," he said, "Ignore it. But you can add into the equation the fact that Biox are not the only company to have lost scientists and technicians in the last year or so. All were virologists or molecular geneticists or technicians useful to a laboratory hell bent on a bit of, what I understand is called in the trade, gain of function or GOF research. Now add into the equation scientists, like Solomon, with extreme views about the powers that should be granted to themselves to decide what to create and how to use their creations."
For Larry, this was exactly what he had been trying to tell the US Ambassador. But Daniel hadn't finished yet. He then started to touch on an area that Larry had not given much thought to - the money side.
"Then," Daniel said, "Into that tasty soup you can need to add something else - funding. Funding need not be a problem for these scientists if they can find one or more rich, private individuals. And if one - or more, or all - of these individuals has stashed away a fortune on the back of a lifetime spent in fraud and embezzlement and other criminality and is only interested in investing it to make more money, then what have you got?"
Daniel stopped, hoping it was sinking in. To Larry, the scenario was like a re-run of one of his recent nightmares. "You want my frank opinion, Larry?" Daniel continued.
"Go ahead, although I think I'm seeing it exactly the same way."
"What we have here is an organised bunch of crooks with money and a motley group of scientists with far more than their fair share of reasons for opting out of the mainstream to pursue their dreams and they are all coming together. But I still suspect that Solomon is the technical wizard behind it all and the one with the extreme views on population control. To be fair on the other scientists and technicians, though, I suspect most of them haven't a clue who they are working for."
"Yes," Larry said, "I'll go with all that."
Jimmy had sent a text message to Daniel from his car and then stopped to buy fuel.
"Jimmy the ferret," Daniel said to Anna as they sat in a Bangkok restaurant. "I'd better phone him right now."
In Nairobi, Jimmy's phone rang just as he was about to pay the garage attendant.
"I phoned Shah Medical's accountant this morning," said Jimmy, "I told him I was from Kenya Revenue Authority and that I needed information on the numbers of employees they had. If he could just tell me on the phone KRA inspectors wouldn't need to call around. They employ sixteen."
"Good work, Jimmy," Daniel smiled across the table at Anna.
"I then asked him if Mr Jomo was still their sales manager - Jomo is an old school friend, Mr Franklin. He said yes, but that Jomo is only working for another three weeks because they no longer need a salesman."
As Daniel listened, there was a noise in the background. "Two thousand shillings? Where is your petrol made, mzee, China? I will go somewhere else next time - here, keep the change.......... Sorry, Mr Franklin. Anyway, I met Jomo for a beer last night. We told jokes although Jomo was not wanting to joke too much. He has a wife and four children. ..........are you there Mr Franklin?
"Yes," said Daniel., "I'm listening."
"Jomo told me a lot, Mr Franklin. You got plenty of British pounds?
"I can go to the bank, Jimmy"
"OK, I tell you all this before you pay. This is my way."
"Fine, Jimmy. Go on."
"Just a moment, Mr Franklin, I need to stop the car.... OK I have now stopped. Well, Jomo is a very upset man, because he spent fifteen years helping to build Mr Shah's business. According to Jomo, the Frenchman called Don told the staff they are to change everything and start testing some new medicine for infections. So, they do not need a Nairobi salesman now. Instead they want to expand to Uganda, Tanzania and Sudan. Jomo doesn't like French people. He prefers British. He can't understand Don's accent and................."
Jimmy's phone stopped but Daniel waited in case the signal was poor.
".........so I bought several beers and said I'd give him a lady and a free condom. Jomo was very depressed last night........"
Daniel listened as the mobile phone signal in Nairobi came and went.
"...........but before Jomo was ready for the lady he saw someone. He saw Don going into the Flamingo Club............but Jomo was impatient for the lady so...........I waited outside...................two hours I waited.........raining.......then...Don came out..........I took a photo..........followed him to an apartment block .......have address.............."
Daniel interrupted him at last.
"Jimmy, I can't hear you too well, I'll call you tomorrow."
But Jimmy still hadn't quite finished.
"There's one more thing, Mr Franklin. Jomo says the Shah Medicals headquarters is in Cairo - that's Egypt. Everything comes from Cairo. The big boss is in Cairo and so is Mr O'Brian."
The last snippet from Jimmy made a lot of sense. David Chua in Singapore had mentioned Cairo, he had seen Cairo mentioned in Caroline's Singapore notes, Kay Choon in Hong Kong had mentioned a link with Cairo and Clive Tasker had suggested that Cairo was the ultimate destination for equipment imported into Jordan by Al Zafar and then re-exported.
"And another thing, Mr Franklin. I've got a part......................"
"I can't hear you Jimmy, say that again."
"I have got a part-time job at Shah Medicals."
"You've got what?" yelled Daniel, hoping that at least Jimmy could hear him properly.
"A part-time job at Shah Medicals - two hours every Tuesday and Thursday evening and it's after Luther Jasman has finished work, so don't worry - no-one will recognise me."
"How in God's name did you manage tha