‘Let’s say, there’s a suspicion and nobody’s taking any chances.’
‘If you think that Ali was involved in anything like that … well, it’s just plain ridiculous,’ said Malloy.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Dewar. ‘But he was Iraqi, he was a scientist, he did have access to the smallpox genome and … he did end up killing himself.’
‘Point taken,’ agreed Malloy reluctantly. ‘But you’re on the wrong trail. We’ve only got a few fragments of the virus here. You couldn’t do anything crazy with that.’
‘I saw your audit return.’ said Dewar, maintaining eye contact.
‘Oh, I see. You think we may have more than we’re letting on.’
‘Maybe not deliberately,’ said Dewar. ‘But that sort of thing does tend to happen in places like this. I’ve just been to a place where they had more than they should have. No criminal intent just … the university way.’
‘You’re welcome to carry out any inspection you like of the lab and its stocks,’ said Malloy.
‘Thanks,’ said Dewar. ‘It’s always nice to have full cooperation but first I’d like to get a feel for the group. How about telling me who you have working for you and what they’re doing exactly.’
‘I’ve got one post doc, a Frenchman named, Pierre Le Grice from the Institut Pasteur in Paris; he’s been her two years, another one to go. I’ve got two PhD students, Sandra Macandrew — she’s second year supported by the Medical Research Council and Peter Moore, he’s first year, supported by the Wellcome Trust. Ali was my third student. He’d almost finished and was preparing to write up his thesis. He was on Iraqi government money.’
Dewar raised his eyebrows.
‘Nothing unusual in that. Foreign students aren’t entitled to British grants. They have to have their own money for tuition fees and subsistence and it usually comes from their own governments.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘George Ferguson, my senior technician. He’s a medical lab technician. He came up to the university when they closed down the old City Hospital and they were looking to resettle the lab staff. He hadn’t really found a niche and I needed someone who was used to handling viruses so I agreed to take him on until his resettlement period runs out. If I get another grant I’ll keep him on.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Did Ali work alone?’
‘No one was looking over his shoulder, if that’s what you mean. He was a graduate student; he already had a good honours degree in his subject so he knew what he was doing. But you tend to know what the person next to you is doing and people talk all the time about their projects. Let’s say, if Ali was trying to create a complete smallpox virus, someone would have noticed,’ said Malloy, making the notion seem ridiculous.
Dewar nodded. ‘Seems reasonable.’
‘Would you like to meet the team?’
‘I’ve come all this way,’ smiled Dewar.
‘What reason would you like me to give them?’
‘Routine Home Office procedure after the death of a student who was a foreign national, I think.’
Sandra Macandrew was first. Dewar found her pleasant and friendly. She couldn’t understand Ali’s death or the change that came over him during the last few weeks of his life.
‘You obviously noticed a change in his personality,’ said Dewar. ‘Did you notice a change in his work pattern?’
Sandra thought for a moment. ‘He still came to the lab and seemed to be working on his project as usual. I suppose Steve would know from his notebooks whether things were working or not. By that time, he’d stopped talking to us.’
‘But you didn’t notice him doing anything different in the lab?’
‘Different? No.’
‘Thanks for your help, Miss Macandrew. If you think of anything else, you can leave a message for me here.’ Dewar handed her a card with a Sci-Med contact number on it.
Peter Moore was next. He couldn’t tell him any more than Sandra had. Hammadi’s death was as big a mystery to him. Yes, he had liked Ali too.
Pierre Le Grice was a different kettle of fish. He was positively aggressive, complaining bitterly about the interruption to his research that the fragment ban was causing.
‘To put a complete stop to circulation at is ridiculous. Okay you impose the twenty percent rule. Even that is stupid. What can you do with fifty that you can’t with twenty? tell me that.’
‘Dr Le Grice, I don’t make the rules. If you want to protest you’ll have to do it through your government and the United Nations.’
‘You people never accept responsibility for anything,’ continued Le Grice. ‘It’s always someone else to blame.’
‘I accept responsibility for what I have to do Doctor. I say again, I don’t make the rules but I am empowered and expected to enforce them.’
There was a pause, engineered by Dewar to allow what he’d said to sink in. He continued, ‘So if I learn that someone here has been sending smallpox fragments to a research institute in Manchester without going through proper channels I just might nail his professional hide to the wall.’
Le Grice said simply, ‘You know?’
Dewar nodded. ‘I know it was some time ago and nothing is going to happen about it now but things have changed. Any more of that and you can kiss your career good-bye, Monsieur.
George Ferguson was not in the lab. Sandra explained that he and Malloy had been ‘a right couple of heroes yesterday’. George was currently being thanked by ‘the powers that be. Dewar asked what had happened and was given a run down on what Malloy and Ferguson had done.
‘Better them than me.’
‘Me too,’ agreed Sandra. ‘Would you like to see round the lab?’
‘Sure would.’
The lab struck Dewar as being untidy. This was due in part to a lack of space — people were vying with pieces of equipment for useable bench area. Rows of notebooks filled up the window sills. Racks of test tubes were piled three high and electrophoresis photographs were hanging all along the wall from clips on wall hooks. ‘How d’you ever find anything?’ he asked, making it sound like a joke.
‘It only looks a complete mess,’ replied Sandra. ‘We know where everything is. A tidy lab is a sterile lab, that’s what Steve always says. If you’re polishing benches it means you can’t think of an experiment to do.’
‘A point of view, I suppose,’ said Dewar.
After ten minutes or so of passing the time of day with Sandra and Peter — Pierre Le Grice had decided to keep his own company and busied himself about the lab, George Ferguson returned to loud demands from the others to show them his medal.
Ferguson laughed. ‘No medal,’ he said. ‘Only a few precious words from
‘George, this is Doctor Dewar. He’s inquiring into Ali’s death,’ said Steven Malloy.
Dewar shook hands with Ferguson and asked him the same questions as the others about the dead student. His reply was much the same. He, like everyone else in the lab, had liked Ali. His death had come as a complete shock.
‘Did you know what Ali was working on?’
Ferguson shrugged and said, ‘Only in the broadest of terms. I’m a hospital technician who had the hospital taken from under him. I look after the virus stocks and see to the culture media. This new molecular stuff is largely beyond me and you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.’
‘It must have been a bit of a change to come here?’
‘Ferguson smiled at what he saw as understatement. ‘I’d been at the City for thirty two years,’ he said.
‘Must have been tempting to call it a day and take early retirement?’
‘The bank manager disagreed,’ said Ferguson.
Dewar smiled. ‘No golden handshake on offer eh?’
‘From the NHS? Pull the other one.’
‘You seem to have settled in well with the group here.’
