‘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.
‘I suppose there might be some differences from one place to the next, depending on the supplier. Why?’
‘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?’
‘I put them into bio-disposal. There was no point in keeping them. No one else would have been able to decipher them either, I’m sure.’
Malloy held up his hand and reassured him. ‘No one is suggesting anything else, Pierre. You did exactly what I asked you to do. There’s no problem.’
‘Can I go now? I’m very busy.’
‘Of course.’
‘Seems to work very hard,’ said Dewar as Le Grice closed the door.
‘He’s very ambitious,’ replied Malloy. ‘Very bright too. Well, there we have it. If Ali had illegal fragments of the virus or even if he actually managed to reconstruct live smallpox which I just can’t believe, the whole lot went straight into the steriliser and I can’t say I’m sorry.’
‘Sounds good to me too,’ agreed Dewar.
‘From a purely selfish point of view I’m glad you came here,’ said Malloy.
‘How so?’
‘You’ve given me a reason for Ali’s suicide. I’ve been blaming myself ever since it happened for not recognising the symptoms of clinical depression. It sounds like he wasn’t ill at all; he just got mixed up in a nightmare. The bastards who asked him to do it, I suppose they’ll get away with it?’
‘That’s usually a fair bet where government sponsored crime is involved. Anything goes, from genocide to blowing up an airliner.
Dewar paused by Sandra’s bench on the way out. ‘I think I’m finished this time,’ he said.
‘No real problems?’ she asked, her eyes asking more questions than the words.
‘There might have been,’ he replied. ’
‘Will what you’ve been doing here help lift the ban on the movement of smallpox fragments for research?’
‘It may go some way but it could take time. Anything involving the agreement of many countries takes time. You’re worried about your degree?’
‘Not just that. I think this lab had a real chance of coming up with a vaccine against AIDS. Without access to new fragments I’m not so sure. It would have been nice to have been associated with something like that, a paper in NATURE, the whole bit.’
‘If you’re being slowed up, everyone else is too,’ Dewar reminded her. ‘I’m sure rival labs are feeling just as frustrated.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ agreed Sandra. ‘We’ll just have to make the best of things. Hope for a lucky break in another direction.’
‘Well, I wish you the best of luck,’ said Dewar.
‘Thanks,’ replied Sandra. ‘Need a taxi?’
‘I’m going to walk for a bit, need the exercise.’
Dewar started to walk towards town. The sky was clear and autumn sunshine shone down on red and gold leafed trees. There was a coolness in the air but it just made the conditions perfect for walking. He took out his mobile phone from his briefcase and switched it back on. There was one diverted call waiting for him. It was from Grant at police headquarters, asking him to call in when he had a moment Dewar called him back.
‘I’ve got something for you. Best if you came in,’ said Grant.
Dewar flagged down the first taxi he saw. The journey took thirty-five minutes largely because they had to cross town to get to police headquarters on the north side of the city. Dewar’s impatience grew with every traffic light halt, and when he finally arrived he felt as if he’d been released from prison.
‘You’re a hard man to track down,’ said Grant.
‘I turned off the phone earlier. I didn’t want it ringing at awkward moments,’ explained Dewar.
‘I left messages at all the contact numbers you gave me,’ said Grant.
..’Thanks. That was the right thing to do. What have you got?’
‘Recognise any of these bozos?’ Grant pushed five computer generated images across the desk.
‘These two,’ replied Grant. ‘They’re the Iraqis I saw at the book shop, Siddiqui and Abbas. Well done. I’m impressed.’
‘Aren’t computers wonderful,’ replied Grant.
‘When they work. ‘Find out anything about them?’
Grant leaned across the desk and tapped the end of his pen on the face of the bearded man. ‘Abbas was straightforward, officially an educational liaison officer but thought by special branch to be triple “A”.’
Dewar raised his eyes.
‘Iraqi secret police.’
‘Fits.’
‘The other bozo however, was much more difficult because London didn’t seem to know anything about anyone named Siddiqui being in the country. They checked their Iraqi picture album and cross checked with intelligence and came up with three guys with that name known to them. The one you’ve picked is … ‘ Grant checked the reference number on the back of the photo and read from his notes. ‘Dr Ismail Siddiqui; he’s on the faculty at Baghdad University and is credited with being a scientific advisor to the Iraqi government. He’s also believed by the military to have been involved in Saddam’s biological weapons programme although there’s no proof. Make any sense?’
Dewar felt his limbs become heavy. He couldn’t say this had come as a complete shock to him, or any kind of a shock at all but it was just so enervating to have his worst fears confirmed. ‘All too much,’ he replied. ‘You say Siddiqui’s presence here is a surprise to London?
Apparently.’
‘How?’
‘That’s for them to find out when I tell them who you’ve identified.’
‘You know what really worries me?’
‘What?’ asked Grant.
‘The fact he’s still in Edinburgh. How long is it since Hammadi died?’