Jack settled himself onto a small sofa that occupied one of the corners of Professor Park’s office. He accepted a cup of coffee.
“So it’s bioinformatics that brings you here?” Professor Park sat down in the armchair across from Jack. He was drinking his coffee in small sips, cautiously and methodically.
Jack could not help but be impressed. The man must be in his mid-30s, without question much younger than Jack, and yet was running one of the most forward-looking programmes in Harward’s medical school.
“That’s right … or more precisely one of your former students in bioinformatics … Ollie Wilson.”
Jack had introduced himself as a member of the CIA. This was as much as he was prepared to disclose. It was not difficult to convince Professor Park that the agency was interested in the field, and looking for an above average candidate from one of its programmes to perhaps join their ranks.
“Ollie Wilson was by far one of our most promising students … an unusual blend of creativity and scientific precision. I am not surprised he chose to apply his mind to virology and immunology.”
Jack cocked his head. He had read the exhaustive summary that Laurie had compiled for him, but the topic of virology had not come up. “How so?”
“Applying bioinformatics to understanding viruses and their behaviours is critical to the development of drugs going forward. There is so much information to process when a new virus emerges, hypotheses about its mutations, its origin … it’s a perfect application for bioinformatics and Ollie was our first student to realise the potential.”
Jack leaned back into the sofa cushions and let Professor Park expand on the subject. He was without doubt thrilled about his student’s project himself, willing to explain in detail why it was so significant.
“So, you think international labs would fight to employ Ollie?”
For the first time, Jack sensed slight reservation.
“He is a brilliant brain.”
“But …” Jack placed his empty cup on the table at the side of his seat and waited.
Professor Park leaned forward elbows on knees, hands clasped loosely together. “Look … I think it’s a very personal matter to employ someone.”
“Professor Park, whatever it is that makes you cautious … I will easily find out elsewhere.”
The other man’s lips twitched a little. “I guess so …” he exhaled slowly. “Ollie had a problem with addiction.”
Jack frowned.
“Drugs …” Professor Park cleared his throat. “I know … because it was I who sent him to rehab.”
Chapter Ten
“Has everybody gone?” Cora closed Beth’s bedroom door and came over to sit next to Johnny on the old sofa. He laid his laptop on the coffee table, stretched an arm toward her and smiled.
“C’mon Da’ling … come and sit next to Uncle Johnny.”
Cora curled up into a tight ball against her friend’s lean body.
“They’ve all gone down to check on something …”
“That’s a little vague,” she murmured, but she didn’t mind. She was desperate to rest her brain, to take a step back and make sense of the past 24 hours.
“He really loves you a lot you know …” Johnny stroked Cora’s hair, flattening the spikes … She had not given a thought to gel this morning.
Cora was no longer sure she did know.
“That doesn’t sound very convincing.”
Cora buried her head in the sofa cushions.
“Sorry … I shouldn’t be prodding. It’s all been very rough.” Johnny dropped his forehead against her back and they remained like that for a moment until they heard the sound of the door to the flat opening and voices coming through.
“I’ll fix you a cup of tea.” Charlie’s voice sounded concerned.
Cora turned away from Johnny to see who was being invited in rather than out of embarrassment.
“That would be very kind.” Cora recognised Nancy’s voice and jumped up from the couch, dashing to the hallway. Pole was there too. She heard him chatting to Charlie.
Nancy was a sight. Her jacket was stained with blood. Her hair had been roughly pinned back and her face bore a number of fresh cuts.
“Someone tried to enter your flat again.”
“I’m so sorry Nancy. I should never have got you involved.” Cora bit her lips to stop them from trembling.
“Nonsense … I’ve been through much worse.”
As she entered the lounge, Johnny leaped up and threw his arms in the air. “Nancy … how wonderful.” His arms stayed up for a moment, not certain whether they should embrace her or simply come down.
“Oh …” He simply said when he spotted the blood on her jacket. He moved to one of the sofas that created an L-shape with the one he had just vacated and invited Nancy to take the more comfortable seat.
“How kind.” Nancy walked over to the couch and lowered herself gingerly as though she needed to lessen the impact.
“Who were they?”
“We don’t know yet … the floor collapsed underneath one of them.” Nancy stopped. There was no need to let Cora have all the details of the fight.
“Did they find what they were looking for?”
“I don’t think so … we disturbed them too early in their search.”
Cora sank back into the settee.
Pole had appeared with two mugs of tea whilst Charlie carried three more in both hands. The two men offered the drinks around and took a seat.
Johnny raised a quizzical eyebrow. Who was the newcomer?
“Jonathan Pole … Very nice to meet you.” Pole extended a hand to Johnny, who half stood up to shake it. “Likewise.”
“Why would they come back after setting fire to the place?” Cora had already drunk half her cup of tea.
“Perhaps fresh information came their way and they decided they needed to take a second look.”
“Did you see them arrive?” Pole asked.
“No … Beth had already gone out to an appointment.” Johnny pursed his lips as he took a sip of tea, not to Charlie’s usual standard.
“And Nat left quickly too.” Charlie added. He moved as quickly as he could towards Johnny, knowing what would come next … but too late.
Johnny knelt on the carpet to reach the large biscuit tin that lived permanently on the coffee table. He opened it and offered the contents round to the circle of friends. Charlie’s face froze, but Johnny thought nothing of it. Pole hesitated but said no.
“Something might come back to you later. If it does, give me a call.” Pole finished his cup of tea, fishing something out from his jacket pocket.
Nancy bent forward to put her cup on the table and winced.
“You need something to ease the pain.” Johnny looked genuinely concerned. “I’ve got just what you need.” He stood up and moved swiftly towards a long piece of furniture that decorated the far end of the lounge.
Cora opened her eyes wide and was about to make a comment.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Pole managed a grin. He laid a couple of police business cards on the table. “If what I smell in the air is what is lurking in one of those drawers … I don’t really want to know.”
Nancy chuckled and winced again.
Johnny stopped dead, spun on his heels and cocked his head. “Just as well you didn’t take a biscuit then … the stuff in the cupboard makes a very good flavouring ingredient.”
* * *
“The one issue that is bothering me more than the identity of the people themselves is the timing.” Nancy had changed to a more casual winter shirt and black jeans.
“Agreed.” Pole tossed his phone on the bed. He was surveying her with concern. Her face had recovered some of its spark but a small crease at the corner of her mouth told him pain was troubling her signific
antly.
“How is Ollie?” She sat next to him on the bed adjusting her shirt gingerly around her waist.
“The hospital is telling me there is no change. Police surveillance has been reinforced.”
“Do you buy the drug connection?”
“I’m not sure. Rob at the NCA has not made any progress either. Andy and my team are looking into it.”
“To be that serious it would have to be something to do with trafficking … a reprisal of some kind.”
Pole nodded. He glanced at his watch quickly. He had a little more time to spare but soon would have to make a move. He had not yet spoken to her about the Ferguson enquiry.
Ferguson was due to visit Pole at Scotland Yard the following day, a meeting he was not looking forward to.
“Won’t you talk to me?”
“I am talking to you.”
Pole cocked his head.
Nancy flopped back onto the bed and yelped. “Goddamn shoulder.”
Pole waited patiently.
Nancy turned her head towards him. “I have to think about what I just remembered … it’s … terrifying.”
“I can’t imagine you escaping China’s Cultural Revolution reprisals without having gone through some terrifying moments … you were only seven years old.”
“I know and yet, the mix of helplessness and anger at myself is almost overwhelming.”
Pole’s mobile rang. “Andy … wait … I’ll put you on speaker. Nancy is here with me.”
“Good afternoon, Ma’am.”
“Good afternoon, Andy … I thought we had agreed you could call me Nancy.”
Andy cleared his throat to hide his shyness.
“So, what have you got?”
“The SOCO team … I mean the real SOCO team was delayed because someone on a motorbike slid in front of their van. He wasn’t hurt and legged it, but it took a good hour to get the van back on the road.”
“Stolen bike I presume.”
“Correct.” Andy rolled the rs with satisfaction.
“Do we know how they found out about who we were using as SOCOs? They would have had to know it was Yvonne Butler’s team that had been appointed.”
I thought about that, Guv … and it’s not all that difficult.”
“Really?”
“You’re the DCI on the case and you almost always request Yvonne’s … I mean Ms Butler’s lab when the cases are complex. There are two other labs that the Met works with on high profile cases. If I wanted to know which one was going to Ollie Wilson’s flat, I’d get the van of each lab followed when they came out and see whether they were going towards the target location. If they were … bang, I create an incident that slows them down without arousing too much suspicion to start with.”
“And I get a van that looks similar to wait near Hoxton Docks, ready,” Nancy added.
“Exactly.”
“Damn … are you telling me I’m too predictable?” Pole grumbled.
“Never … you simply like working with the best.”
“Maybe … how about CCTV cameras?”
“On it … I’ve called the London Underground control centre and have been granted access to the CCTV cameras of all underground stations in the vicinity of the flat. One of the men disappeared into Holborn underground station. I’ve tracked him going south. He changed at Green Park, then Stockwell … But I lost him when he left the tube at Balham.”
“But you are still going through the footage from the other Overground cameras?”
Andy confirmed. “Although I’m less hopeful. There are quite a few blind spots near that particular tube station.”
“And whoever is employing the man knows that.”
“Or else he is a pro, working on his own but knowing his business very well when it comes to avoiding detection,” Nancy wondered.
Pole thanked him and was about to hang up.
“Guv … before you go, Superintendent Marsh wants to talk to you again. He also mentioned Commander Ferguson.”
Pole cursed inwardly. So much for keeping the informal investigation away from Nancy.
* * *
The Delta flight from Boston landed at JFK on time. It gave Jack enough time to disembark and switch comfortably to the international terminal at JFK. As the holder of a business class ticket, BA had given him the choice of having dinner in the lounge before departure, but he preferred to eat on the flight. As soon as he arrived on the plane, he settled into the seat that would soon be turned into a bed. He placed his order for dinner, indulged in a glass of champagne that he found rather good and stocked up with a couple of water bottles for the rest of the flight.
Professor Park had been generous, giving Jack a couple of books on the subject of bioinformatics and virology.
Jack yawned more out of contentment than tiredness. He would read for another hour whilst he was having his dinner. This would leave him five hours’ sleep before touchdown. Perhaps a little short but nothing he was not accustomed to.
He had pondered how Ollie had managed to find himself at the centre of what now appeared to be a large storm that was gathering and could still cost him his life. And yet, Station Chief Jethro had not called him back.
No news might still be good news in this case. Or perhaps the Chief had decided the case was not worth his time nor that of his people … just another junkie biting the dust.
The glass of champagne was almost empty. Jack shook his head. He had his sights on his goal and this meant being clear headed when he landed at Heathrow airport. He took another sip, saving the last gulp for a little later.
Ollie’s choice of job … a small, yet cutting-edge biotech company now made good sense. Jack remembered what he had read about Viro-Tech Therapeutics on the way to Boston.
Viro-Tech stood out as a leading young company, dedicating its research to the development of anti-viral therapies with a focus on respiratory tract illnesses that ultimately caused death in the most vulnerable. Its team of researchers was small yet highly qualified and its pipeline of new drugs looked promising, with some already reaching advanced development phases.
A large pharmaceutical or biotech company might have carried out numerous background checks on Ollie. They would almost certainly have asked about drug abuse or drug dependency. A smaller firm on the other hand might not have enquired so closely, keen to snap up a talent like Ollie.
Jack reached forward for the book he had laid face down at the bottom of his extended seat. He caught a glimpse of the sky … Clear, stars shining unobstructed by pollution or clouds. The 747 had finished its ascent and reached its cruising altitude. This felt strangely comforting to Jack.
He was now out of reach of anyone for the next six hours. He spent a short time gazing at the view … trying to spot a constellation he might recognise. He gave up, and simply enjoyed a moment of relaxation.
The aircraft purser, a jovial looking man, came along to check he was enjoying the flight so far. He also wanted to ensure Jack had been offered a choice of wine, mentioning the opportunity to taste a particularly good burgundy to accompany the excellent lamb they were serving. Jack could not help smiling. He could see why such attention and indulgence would be difficult for any businessman to resist.
The book Jack had picked up was now open again on his lap. It made a compelling case for greater interaction between bioinformatics, immunology and virology. Whereas virology involved the study of viruses and their disease producing properties, immunology dealt with the way in which the human immune system responded to infections through various lines of defence.
Professor Park had added to the books he gave Jack a couple of research papers Ollie Wilson had written while finishing his PhD.
One dealt with the issue of antibiotic resistant microbes. In the research abstract and introduction, Ollie was critical of the lax attitude g
overnments, as well as large pharmaceutical companies and food producers, had shown to the increase in antibiotic resistance.
The trend was in his view alarming … great enough to threaten the future of humanity. More and more bacteria that had once successfully been defeated by simple penicillin had developed resistance to second and third generation antibiotics. MRSA was too common in hospitals and caused havoc. It was high time the warnings of the World Health Organisation were taken seriously.
The light sound of crockery being moved around as well as a rumbling stomach told Jack it was time to concentrate on something less academic, although he enjoyed the direct, easy to read and compelling style of Ollie’s writing.
The young man did not mince his words and certainly did not spare criticism of anyone in his analysis of the situation. But he also offered solutions, based on the potential bioinformatics had to accelerate ground-breaking discoveries and the development of new drugs.
A smiling stewardess served Jack his food tray and presented him with a choice of appetising bread rolls. The purser reappeared with the promised wine which he let Jack taste before pouring a full … very full … glass.
Jack replaced the first of Ollie’s research papers in the folder Professor Park had given him. He drew out the second paper and started reading. This time the topic dealt with virology. Again, Ollie Wilson did not refrain from asking the hard questions. Animal to human transmission had given rise to large scale viral epidemics that did not bode well: SARS in 2004, swine flu in 2009 and Ebola in 2014, although thankfully not experienced in America or Europe.
Ollie again made an impassioned plea in his research abstract. It was high time for animal to human transmission to be taken seriously. Human intervention in the food chain, the slaughter of endangered species and the trafficking and slaughtering of wild animals had to stop.
Jack dropped the paper on his lap … impressed. Ollie Wilson not only had views. He also had a way of putting them forward that was compelling and perhaps …
Dangerous.
A shadow loomed over Jack’s seat. “Is everything alright, Sir?”
The purser’s concerned voice surprised Jack a little. He gave him a smile … It was all absolutely fine. Jack had not touched his food and he thanked him for reminding him his meal was getting cold. The starter of lobster on a bed of curly salad and light lemon dressing reminded Jack’s taste buds what good food was all about.
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