Drugs to Forget

by Martin Granger

  ‘Excuse me, do you always burst in without knocking?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Nathalie breathlessly. ‘I’ve obviously got the wrong office, Doctor, er, Sykes told me to wait in room 502.’

  ‘Room 502 is next door but it’s not Doctor Sykes’ office, whoever that is.’

  Nathalie had no wish to return to the corridor for a while so she decided to play for time.

  ‘I’m sure he said 502, this is B Wing isn’t it?’

  ‘B Wing?’

  ‘Or maybe B Block. Sorry but I’m new here, on a visit from the UK.’ Nathalie rummaged around in the pocket of her jeans. ‘I wrote it down somewhere but I seem to have lost it.’ She stressed her English accent, it had often worked for her in the past. ‘You wouldn’t be kind enough to have a plan of the campus, I’m sure I could remember if I saw a map.’

  The woman wasn’t taken in by this ruse at all, and was obviously busy and irritated by this unwelcome intruder. She started to reach for her telephone.

  ‘No, I don’t have a map and I don’t think you should be wandering the corridors without any authorisation.’

  Apart from confronting Rob Barnes the last thing Nathalie wanted was to be hauled out of this office by a campus security guard. Her hand was still in her pocket, apparently searching for the imaginary directions, and she scratched it on something sharp. Her plastic visitor’s badge that she had been given at reception. She pulled it out triumphantly.

  ‘Authorisation, yes, here it is, my visitor’s pass.’ She flashed it rapidly in front of the woman’s eyes, hoping that it wouldn’t be scrutinised too closely.

  The woman released her hand from the telephone.

  ‘Right.’ Her tone still had a twinge of suspicion. ‘Visitor’s pass. I’m very busy Miss… what did you say your name was?’

  Nathalie speedily searched for a name. She was certain that the woman had not had time to read it on her plastic card. ‘Tanner, Elsie Tanner,’ she blurted out.

  ‘Well Miss Tanner, I suggest you go back to the reception and get your directions from there.’

  Nathalie jumped at the opportunity. Surely Roszak and Barnes must have left the corridor by now. She spun around, opened the door and put her head around to get a glimpse of the corridor. It was empty.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said as a parting shot as she closed the door behind her and ran towards the stairwell. She took the stairs two at a time. There were five floors but she didn’t want to bump into Rob Barnes at the elevators. Panting, she handed her badge in at reception on the ground floor and made her way to the parking lot. Joe and Billy were waiting for her.

  ‘Did he accept your apology?’

  ‘No, missed him. But you’re probably right, let sleeping dogs…’

  Joe looked mystified. Nathalie grinned. ‘I’m sure you have that expression over here. Oh, and while we’re on cultural differences, have either of you watched old reruns of Coronation Street?’

  Joe and Billy looked at her as if she was mad.

  ‘Never mind,’ chuckled Nathalie. ‘As long as the woman on the fifth floor is as puzzled as you are I’m okay.’

  The last of the Californian sunshine leaked through the high-rise blocks of the university campus. Nathalie looked at her watch. It would be the early hours in London but around breakfast time in Surabaya. She would call Tom from the hotel. Medical Films had arranged all the paperwork and for a courier to pick up the media drives so all she had to do was to say goodbye to the crew and head off towards Wilshire Boulevard. The walkways were lined with students, folders underarm, returning to their residences. In the warmth of the evening, Nathalie envied them. Nostalgic perhaps, but it reminded her of those carefree university days without responsibility and accountability. Now she had decisions to make and a film to produce. Should she hang around and discover if she could find anything else about Rob Barnes or would it be wiser to make herself scarce and travel on to eastern Java to see if Tom had come up with anything to film there? Investigative documentaries were always a bit like this. A few scraps and leads but then suddenly you would get a coup. She made up her mind. If Rob Barnes spotted her on the campus there was no way that she would get a story. What that story was yet she didn’t quite know. The conversation had been ambiguous and she had only heard half of it. Why would Zormax be interested in using Rob Barnes to access lethal synthetic microbes? For research perhaps. Or, the unthinkable. A means of laundering biochemical weapons for sale to a third party. No, following Tom’s lead and the source of the microbes would be a better option. After all he had a laboratory worker who might be able to do some actual filming. If they could prove that the Javanese lab were manufacturing and selling these microbes to terrorists for nefarious purposes then she could tie in the Rob Barnes/Zormax connection later.

  She realised that she had hardly had anything to eat since breakfast so dropped her bag off at the hotel and asked them to direct her to the nearest restaurant. The concierge recommended the Palomino, just along the Boulevard, a few metres from the hotel. He described it as ‘rustic European’ whatever that meant. She was so hungry that she didn’t care if it was ‘rustic anything’, as long as they had a table. She needn’t have worried, the restaurant was practically empty. She took a corner table so that she could phone Tom without drawing attention to herself and asked for a menu. Ironically the first thing on the list was a Moroccan humus and tzatziki starter, but she settled for the maple-marinated chicken salad. The descriptions of these dishes were as far from any European food she had tasted or she could imagine, rustic or not. One or two people had started to enter the restaurant. Nathalie decided to call Tom now, while she waited for her food and before it got too busy. She would ask him to find good locations where they could take clandestine shots of the laboratory exterior and arrange for a day when the lab assistant could be interviewed and they could do some undercover filming. He wouldn’t have to worry about the kit and the crew, she would arrange that through Bagatelle when the office was open in a few hours’ time. She took out her mobile and keyed in Tom’s number. The phone rang and rang.

  Sixteen

  Tom opened his eyes and then closed them again. Shafts of bright light were coming through the shutters splintering into blinding rays. His body ached all over and he put his hands out to feel what he was lying on. Earth or concrete perhaps. The buzzing noise that had woken him was getting louder and more persistent. He opened his eyes again. This time more cautiously using his lids as shades. He turned away from the shutters to the inside of the room. It was stifling. He saw a shape draped across some sort of couch against the far wall. Now he remembered. They were in Gita’s sister’s house. He looked at his watch. 10.00 am. He’d only been asleep for three or four hours. The phone kept ringing. He rolled over and dug it out of his back pocket. It had made an indentation in his backside, reminding him that it would be the last time he would go to sleep on it.

  ‘Hi, Tom here,’ he managed to gasp, his voice rasping from the dryness in the air. ‘Nathalie?’

  ‘Thought there was something up, you took a long time to answer.’

  ‘Sorry I was asleep.’

  ‘Have I got the time difference wrong or something?’

  ‘No, it’s mid-morning but we’ve had a rough night.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  Nathalie took a sip from her cold beer and nodded to the waitress who was asking if she had finished her meal. ‘Call’s expensive but have got the time, fire away. You were going to tell me about those requisition papers you found.’

  Tom’s head was clearing. He now saw that there were four of them in the room. Gita’s sister was on the couch, Gita on some sort of mat on the floor and Nick propped up in a sitting position in the corner. He would feel worse than Tom when he woke.

  ‘Give me a moment, I’ll take this outside. Let the others sleep for a while.’

  He limped to the door, still cramped from lying on the bare dusty floor. It was as hot outside as it
was in. Sunlight danced in ribbons across the facing canal, but the palms were motionless in the still air. He looked down the row of shanty houses. The residents had either gone out for the day or had decided to keep in the shade, for the street was empty.

  ‘Are you still there Nathalie?’

  ‘Hearing you loud and clear Tom. Can’t wait to hear about these papers. I think I’ve found another connection.’

  ‘Oh yes, the papers. That’s how we got into this mess.’

  Nathalie knew better than to shout out a number of panicky questions so she just waited.

  ‘Sorry I cut you off the other night. We had a bit of a problem.’

  ‘No worries, I thought it was the reception.’

  ‘No, not that sort of reception anyway. Gita, Nick and I had broken into the laboratory compound.’

  ‘Gita?’

  ‘Yes the lab assistant I told you about.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Gita and I are quite small so Nick got us under the fence and told us he would follow on. It was dark but Gita knew the way so we found the admin hut and the papers that I sent you.’

  Tom heard a noise from behind and turned to see Nick standing in the doorway.

  ‘It’s Nathalie.’

  ‘Who’s that Tom?’ asked Nathalie.

  ‘It’s Nick, he’s just woken up.’

  ‘Can I talk to him?’

  Tom handed the phone to Nick. ‘She wants to talk to you.’

  Nick winced as he reached out for the phone. He looked down at the bandages around his leg. Dark brown bloodstains were seeping through them.

  ‘Hi boss. What’s it like in sunny California?’

  ‘Pretty dark at the moment Nick, it’s late evening here. Tom is not exactly getting to the point. He said you’re in a mess. I thought that was precisely what Geoff sent you out to avoid.’

  ‘No damage done, I think. Could have been a lot worse.’

  ‘Nick!’

  ‘I just got held up. Have to lose weight. Got stuck under this bloody wire.’ He rubbed his leg gingerly. ‘Still got the scars to prove it. Anyway Tom and his girlfriend went on ahead and checked out the hut. Must have made a bit of noise because some runt of a guard crept up on them. Lucky for Tom I crept up on the guard. Lights out and thank you ma’am.’

  ‘He isn’t…?’

  ‘No, he’s fine, bit of a sore head but…’

  Nathalie breathed a sigh of relief and then confronted her next concern. ‘Did he recognise any of you?’

  ‘We don’t think so.’

  ‘You don’t think so.’

  ‘I’ll give it to him, Tom was pretty quick. Just as the guard opened the door he fired his phone flash at him. The guy was putting his hands to his eyes when I bopped him. Don’t think he saw a thing, and we didn’t wait to ask.’

  ‘So why so long in reporting in.’

  ‘Ah, that’s down to me I’m afraid. We spent a while making it look like attempted burglary. You know, found the safe, jemmied it open, strew money around the place. By the time we’d done that it was getting light, and I wasn’t very mobile to run for it, so we hunkered down in some bushes and waited all day until it got dark again. That’s why we are all exhausted. Only got back four or five hours ago.’

  Nathalie drained the last of her beer. The restaurant was getting busy and it was becoming more difficult to talk.

  ‘Okay Nick, sounds like you did your best. Put me back to Tom.’

  Tom took the phone from Nick’s outstretched arm. ‘Hi, did you get the picture?’

  ‘Yes Tom, because of your quick thinking we’ve still got a chance to shoot this location.’

  ‘Not so sure about that Nathalie. Don’t believe he recognised us and they’ll probably think it a bungled burglary…’ Tom paused wondering how he was going to break the news. ‘I’m afraid there’s another problem.’

  Nathalie closed her eyes. Geoff had abandoned the Afghanistan idea and that only left two key locations. The Indonesian laboratory and Zimbabwe. She couldn’t afford to lose one of these now.

  ‘Another problem? Which is?’

  ‘It’s Gita. She’s been traumatised by the whole breaking-in thing. She’s absolutely refusing to take a camera into the laboratory and even worse won’t be interviewed.’

  ‘Maybe after…’

  ‘I’ve tried everything. Said we would protect her, film the interview in shadow, disguise her voice. It’s no good. She is really scared. Said she’s going to call in sick, make an excuse to resign.’

  ‘You could stall her. Buy some time. See if she feels different after a day or two.’

  Tom looked across at Nick who was now sitting in the dirt against the wall in front of the house. He’d already suggested this to Nick, but knew it was useless. Nick shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘We’ve already bought all the time we can,’ said Tom into the phone. ‘Nick’s policeman friend gave us forty-eight hours and that’s nearly up. He said they can’t turn a blind eye any longer. I think they’re going to raid the laboratory this afternoon.’

  ‘Shit,’ said Nathalie. The couple in the booth opposite her turned to stare. She put up her hand in apology. ‘Sorry, bad news.’

  It really was bad news. She had already started to map out the programme. Undercover shots of a suspicious laboratory, paperwork showing nefarious dealings, an interview with a lab assistant explaining the dangerous nature of the microbes. Now this was all shot down in a single telephone call.

  ‘Okay Tom. This is what we do. Go to the police station with Nick. See if you can negotiate with them to take a camera to the raid. I’m sure the police force there will have one for filming evidence. It’ll be a crap camera, and Geoff will hate it, but beggars and all that. Say if we can have a copy of the footage we’ll make their outfit look really good on broadcast TV.’

  Tom thought for a moment, feeling slightly faint. Someone in the vicinity had started to prepare a meal. The scented smells of coconut and lemongrass stole across the veranda. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten.

  ‘Okay, that might just work. Nick’s pretty persuasive. We’ll give it a go. And if they agree, what do you want us to do?’

  Nathalie snapped her reply. ‘Go with them of course, we’ll need someone to direct that police cameraman.’

  London’s Soho district languished in the warm summer rain. Geoff pulled up his collar and ran the last few yards to the steps of Bagatelle’s offices. It was early for him but Stefanie had arranged a teleconference with an international consortium concerning viewing rights. A pain in the arse but it had to be done. She greeted him with a double espresso and a warm croissant.

  ‘Here, let me take that wet raincoat. You’ve time to dry off and drink this. The Italians have just called to delay the conference by half an hour.’

  Geoff raised his eyebrows.

  Stefanie predicted his thoughts. ‘No problem though, I’ve rearranged with the others. They’re okay about it. Give you time to look at your e-mails too. One from Nathalie a few minutes ago.’

  Geoff ran a paper towel through his wet hair and took the croissant and coffee across to his desk. He switched on his computer and took a bite from the pastry as he waited for it to boot up. He hated early mornings, early for him anyway. He’d grown up with the old television production habits, start late finish late. A hangover from the days when TV broadcasts only started in the afternoon. Production meetings would tend to start late morning and then the studio directors would work late into the night. A lot different now of course. Thousands of channels, twenty-four hours a day. No such thing as standard hours. As and when needed had become the norm. Just like this bloody teleconference. Guys from all over Europe on different time zones. And now the delay. He could have had an extra half an hour in bed listening to Radio 4. The icons were now lit up on his screen and he had started to log into his e-mails when he was interrupted by the buzzer on his desk.

  ‘Yes, don’t tell me they’ve brought it forward again?’


  Stefanie’s placid voice came through the intercom. ‘No Geoff, we have a visitor, wants to talk to Nathalie. I told him she’s in the States but he said he was just passing and thought you might want to know some information he has.’

  ‘Can’t you take a message?’

  ‘I suppose so but I think you would like to hear directly from him. It’s Doctor Styne, you know the physician Nathalie was talking to about the Ebola virus. He has more news concerning that poor woman with memory loss.’

  ‘I don’t know why it’s our problem, she just wandered in here off the street.’

  ‘Yes, but Nathalie asked this man to report in any facts he could find out about her. She had Nathalie’s card remember?’ Stefanie’s voice became a little more persistent. ‘He’s a busy man and has taken the time to come in, so I think the least we can do is to see him for a few minutes.’

  Geoff knew when he was beaten. ‘Oh all right, show him in,’ he sighed. ‘Just make sure I’m not late for that teleconference.’

  Doctor Styne walked in cradling a cup of freshly brewed coffee. ‘I understand Miss Thompson is away. I realise that you must be very busy but I thought I really must pass this information on.’

  Geoff gestured to the seat the other side of his desk. ‘Please sit down. No it’s very kind of you to come in person.’

  ‘Thank you Mr Sykes. I was passing a few blocks away and I thought…’

  ‘I’m sure Nathalie will be very grateful. Now what would you like me to tell her?’

  Doctor Styne sat down and placed his cup on the mat that Geoff pushed towards him. ‘She was very keen to follow up on Esther Phillips.’

  ‘Esther Phillips?’

  ‘Yes, it’s the name of the woman who stumbled into your office with memory loss. We’ve found her again. Although not exactly we – an associate of mine in the neurological unit.’