MacLean nodded and realised that he’d have to tell her more. ‘I think Lehman Steiner might still be using it,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why and I don’t know what for but I’m pretty sure they are.’
‘What makes you so certain?’ asked Eva.
MacLean told her of the fate of the Cytogerm team and watched her eyes fill with horror. ‘I knew Kurt had died but I didn’t know about the rest,’ she said. ‘God, this is terrible.’
‘The only thing we had in common was the Cytogerm project,’ said MacLean.
‘And you’re back here to expose them?’ asked Eva.
MacLean shook his head and said, ‘No, Eva, I need to get my hands on some Cytogerm and I need it badly.’
‘Surely you’re not going to use it?’ gasped Eva. ‘It’s far too dangerous.’
‘There’s no other option in this case,’ said MacLean, ‘I promise you.’
Eva looked at him and saw the pain in his eyes. ‘Tell me,’ she said gently.
MacLean told her what had happened to Carrie, how he felt the ‘accident’ was his fault.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Eva, giving MacLean’s arm an extra squeeze. She said that she would make enquiries about Cytogerm.
‘Oh no you won’t,’ exclaimed MacLean, horrified at the thought. ‘You mustn’t even mention it!’
‘But how can I find out anything if I can’t mention it?’ protested Eva.
MacLean asked her if she remembered a man called, Von Jonek.’
‘I do indeed,’ replied Eva with a wry smile. ‘That was one of the few times I ever saw you really angry. He came to the clinic didn’t he?’
‘He came for the Cytogerm files,’ said MacLean. ‘Did you ever see him again?’
Eva thought for a moment then said, ‘Do you know, I believe I did, but for the moment I can’t think where. Is this important?’
MacLean said that it was. He had reason to believe that Von Jonek’s whereabouts might be the key to finding Cytogerm. ‘The company told me that he was some kind of archivist but I didn’t believe that. He had more than a historical interest in Cytogerm, I’m sure of it.’
‘So you would like me to find out about Von Jonek?’ said Eva.
‘I’d be grateful,’ said MacLean. ‘But please be careful. Don’t ask questions of anyone directly. Try to use computer files and lists.’
‘All right, I’ll see what I can do. Anything else you want to know while I’m at it?’
‘I’d like to know if Lehman Steiner have a project code-named, Der Amboss.
Der Amboss,’ repeated Eva. ‘The anvil.’
‘So I believe,’ said MacLean. Again, don’t ask any direct questions. Just see what you can pick up.’
Eva nodded. ‘Anything else?’
‘Any current gossip or scandal,’ said MacLean.
‘From the nurses’ locker room?’ asked Eva with a smile.
‘Where else?’ agreed MacLean.
‘I’ll do my best.’
‘I know you will,’ said MacLean with affection.
‘Come to dinner tomorrow night?’ suggested Eva. ‘You can meet Jean-Paul and I can tell you what I’ve managed to find out.’
MacLean agreed readily and made a note of her address.
As he lay in bed, MacLean reflected on his first day in Geneva; he was well pleased with the way things had gone. The only sour note had been struck by Peter Stahl and he considered briefly that he might bear some responsibility for that situation. On the other hand, it was only a vague recollection but he thought he could remember not liking Stahl the first time they had met. Perhaps he and Eva would have broken up anyway. Apart from that there was no room left in his head for any more guilt. Space was at a premium and Stahl didn’t even make the queue. He started to think about tomorrow and hoped Eva would remember where she had seen Von Jonek and under what circumstances. With what he could recall of Von Jonek’s features swimming before his eyes, he fell asleep.
A few miles from MacLean’s hotel, Eva Stahl was also thinking about Von Jonek. She was lying awake; annoyed at herself for not being able to remember where she’d seen him last and the harder she tried the more difficult it became to concentrate. She sighed and turned for the third time in as many minutes, this time eliciting a grunt of protest from a sleeping Jean-Paul. Eva steeled herself to lie still and concentrate. It was a full half-hour before it came back to her but when it did, she smiled in the darkness and turned over to cuddle into Jean-Paul’s back.
TEN
MacLean was relieved to find that Jean-Paul Rives was in his early forties. He had considered the possibility, albeit unlikely, that Eva’s looks might have attracted the attentions of much younger men and that the new man in her life might turn out to be a twenty year old pop star in leopard-skin trousers. Instead he was tall, balding, bespectacled and charming. He made MacLean feel immediately at ease and fixed him a drink while they waited for Eva to emerge from the kitchen.
Eva entered, licking her fingers and requesting that Jean-Paul make her one too. She came over to MacLean and kissed him on the cheek, saying, ‘How are you two getting on?’
Rives handed her drink to her.
‘Jean-Paul works for Lehman Steiner too,’ said Eva.
The smile struggled to stay on MacLean’s face. Eva saw and she put her hand on his arm. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Your secret is safe with both of us.’
‘Mother is the word,’ said Rives, putting a finger to his lips.
MacLean smiled. ‘Are you a doctor or a scientist Jean-Paul?’ he asked.
‘Neither,’ replied Rives. ‘I’m an accountant.’
‘But he’s no better with the housekeeping money than I am,’ said Eva.
‘We manage,’ smiled Rives and Eva linked arms with him to agree. MacLean could see that they were good for each other.
Over an excellent meal, Rives told MacLean how he had come to meet Eva when she was in the throes of her divorce from Peter Stahl. ‘I was in charge of financing a new clinic, which the company was setting up to work on infertility problems. Eva was seconded to recruit nursing staff.’
‘You stopped being a theatre sister Eva?’ asked MacLean.
Eva nodded. ‘When Cytogerm failed, the company started to wind down surgical research to concentrate on other things,’ she said. ‘I saw which way the wind was blowing and applied for the job of head nurse at the new infertility clinic. It was a good move; I enjoy the work.’
‘What sort of service does the clinic offer?’ asked MacLean.
‘The whole range,’ replied Eva. ‘From initial counselling sessions to in-vitro fertilisation and implant procedures.’
‘Here we go again!’ exclaimed Rives in mock horror. ‘We never have a meal in this house without discussing other peoples’ insides.’
MacLean smiled and apologised but Eva interrupted him saying, ‘Don’t apologise, Jean-Paul likes to pretend that he’s an outsider but he knows well enough what implants are.’
‘Oui,’ said Jean-Paul with a Gallic wave of the hands. ‘Mother and father make love in a test tube and you people put baby back in mummy. No?’
‘Couldn’t have put it better myself,’ said MacLean.
‘Ugh, whatever happened to romance?’ said Rives.
‘All he really cares about are numbers,’ said Eva.
‘Ah, numbers,’ agreed Rives. ‘In the right hands figures can make such beautiful music. A balance sheet in harmony is like a waltz by Strauss, a sonnet by Shakespeare, a painting by Cezanne.’
MacLean smiled. He liked Rives.
MacLean waited until the coffee before broaching the subject of Eva’s inquiries.
‘I was wrong about Von Jonek,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t seen him again.’
MacLean could scarcely conceal his disappointment.
‘But I had heard from him,’ added Eva. ‘That’s what made the name seem familiar.’
‘Go on,’ said MacLean.
‘First, you were right. Von Jonek is not an archivist; he’s some sort of scientist. Two years ago, just after the clinic opened, we received a request from him.’
‘What did he want?’
‘Sperm.’
‘Good Lord.’
Eva smiled and said, ‘The staff thought it was quite odd too. Preliminary screening of husbands at the clinic involves testing their sperm. Von Jonek wanted the samples when our lab was finished with them.’