The Malthus Pandemic

by Terry Morgan

CHAPTER 19

  Kay Choon was an old friend and a client of mine from my early days as an investigator. Standing outside the Bangkok convention centre, I phoned Kay's mobile in Hong Kong. There was a short pause after the ring tone finished and then a strong Chinese accent. "Hey, Choon, how are you?" I said, "Did you get anywhere with your commission problem?"

  "Hey, man. Where are you? In Hong Kong again?"

  "No, Bangkok. How's it going? Everything resolved now? Did the guy eventually pay up?"

  "Got half so far. The money went direct into the company account from a bank in Manila. I don't know who paid but I've been told to expect the rest this week. Thanks for all your help on that. Your own commission will be on its way as soon as we get ours. Is that why you called?"

  "No," I admitted. "I needed a favour. You remember that baby food scandal when I was in HK? The supplier was a competitor of yours, right? Are they anywhere near solving the mystery?"

  "Ah, Ching Seng," said Kay Choon. "The Public Health people were investigating Sun Foods who made the product but, as far as I know, got nowhere. Why do you ask?"

  I had already got what I wanted - the name Ching Seng was what had been missing from my mental filing system. "Big competitor are they?" I asked.

  "Not really. They are more into pharmacy supplies, not baby foods. Why?"

  "Who owns Ching Seng, do you know?"

  "It used to be Ed Ling but he recently sold out to an Arab company. Their chief was here, in person, a while ago, just after he bought them. He is based in Cairo or somewhere. It seems as if it will become part of the Shah Corporation, whatever that is."

  "The Shah Corporation." I repeated it for my own benefit. "Do you know anything about the Arab company?"

  "Not a lot. I spoke to Ed Ling some time ago. He is retiring soon and he sold out to fund his retirement. He had an incredible offer. More than he thought the company was worth."

  "What's the Arab planning to do with Ching Seng, do you know?"

  "Change its name for one thing. But it's in dire need of some change. Sales dropped a lot in the last year or so as Ed was losing interest. But what the Arab was thinking of in buying it I can't imagine. Ed had a few good agency lines but I think most of the sales went to other agents selling in China. His margins were small and his local sales were dropping if anything."

  "So, no real idea of the Arab's motive for buying?" I probed.

  "No, sorry, Dan. You called me just for that? What are you up to now. Into something connected with the Arab?"

  "I just thought you might help, Choon, and you just have. Thanks for that. Keep in touch, OK?"

  It was just a small piece of the jigsaw, but enough for now. I pocketed my phone and returned to the trade exhibition.

  At the Livingstone Pharmaceuticals stand two men were talking to delegates I thought one was the sales manager Walt and I had seen through the dim light of the bar. The other, Greg O'Brian, the owner according to Walt, was nowhere to be seen. I loitered a while until the visitors had moved on and then approached the sales manager. The tall American was quick to introduce himself.

  "Sam Marshall." he introduced himself. "Pleased to meet you, Doctor Stevens. "Where are you from, sir?"

  "Kuala Lumpur," I replied sticking to my story line. But before the subject could move on or went in the wrong direction I said, "I wanted a word with Greg O'Brian. Is he here?"

  "Sure, sitting in on the proceedings - should be here any minute. The conference finishes about now. Can I help you, in any way?"

  "No problem," I said, "I'll come back."

  Ten minutes later, watching from another exhibitor’s stand, I saw O'Brian ushering a small group of doctors towards the Livingstone stand. I loitered a bit more. I was just a few yards away.

  This was my first real look at Greg O'Brian, a man destined to affect me, what I was doing for Virex and a of of other people for quite a while. I put his age at late fifties or early sixties. He was as tall as me at nearly six feet but I'm quite slim. O'Brian was not overweight but a noticeably bigger build than me. He was dressed in an expensive dark suit, white shirt and tie. The black shoes were very shiny. But there were signs of balding amongst the otherwise well groomed and greying hair.

  Eventually the visitors moved off and, judged by the hand shaking between O'Brian and Marshall, it appeared that Greg O'Brian had just made a sale and needed to show the younger man how it was all done. I saw my chance and walked over.

  "Mr O'Brian?"

  "Yeh?" O’Brian tried to see my lapel badge but his smile from his apparent recent success was still lingering. "Can I help you?." He didn't offer to shake my hand.

  He hadn't uttered many words but, for me, the accent was recognisable and, with a name like that, perhaps I should have guessed. O'Brian was Irish American.

  "I heard about your company. Mr O'Brian," I said. "I'm currently in KL, Kuala Lumpur, you know, and I was wondering if you could help me in some way. I'm going to Nairobi on secondment to the University there in about two months time. I will also be doing a bit of teaching. Someone told me you were setting up there and I was wondering if there would be any chance of some co-operation. I would be looking to give a few students some work experience in microbiology or anything. Expenses paid so it'd cost you nothing. Anything you could offer would be very welcome."

  The made up story, invented during my spell of loitering, sounded OK to me so I stood back to test the response.

  "So who told you that?" said O'Brian. "And what's your business?" The accent could now be pinpointed to time spent in or around New York. He'd said 'business', too. Jack or Amos Gazit, both scientists, would have said 'what's your interest' or 'what's your field." O'Brian was a man who's thought went straight to the bottom line.

  “Bacteriology," I said, deliberately ignoring his first question, "But the University is keen to get involved with other local public health matters. There might even be some possible reciprocal arrangements - Kenyan students working in KL?"

  Aloud, it sounded pompous but I had said it, so there was nothing more I could do. Clearly, though, O'Brian was not in the least interested and, frankly, I didn't care a toss.

  "Well, I dunno," O'Brian said and I could tell he was already being distracted by something or other over my shoulder "It's nothing like that, you know - just a distribution agreement and we don't have plans for research." The Belfast accent was now showing through. He went on: "There is a lab of sorts but we'll use it for product registration work." The distraction behind me, whatever it was, was obvious. O'Brian moved as if to get away. I was ready for it.

  "Anyone else who might help me?" I asked.

  O'Brian groped inside a top pocket of his dark suit and withdrew a business card. He handed it not to me but to Marshall. "Here, Sam, write down Luther's name, or whatever his name is, and give it to this guy will you. I need to go."

  Then, without another word, O'Brian wandered off, clearly conveying the impression that I had been a total inconvenience. O'Brian had far more important things to do than talk to some English prat from Kuala Lumpur. But I got a name, Luther Jasman, and another possible lead. And I'd also met Greg O'Brian although I hadn't shaken his hand.

  With that I took a taxi back to the hotel and, en route phoned Colin Asher in London.

  Colin had apparently just left his office off the Edgeware Road in London to get a breath of fresh air and buy a sandwich for his lunch when his phone rang.

  "Colin, it's me - 007. I need your help again." I said.

  "Typical - just as I was en route to lunch. Where the hell are you? In Bangkok again or somewhere else this time?"

  "In the vicinity of Bangkok," I replied.

  "What's up?" Colin said, the sound of London traffic clearly audible in the background.

  "I need some information on a Kuwaiti company, Colin - the usual stuff, subsidiaries, associated companies and the like. Also, I think they may have something going in Nairobi and Hong Kong. Any information on the guy at the top
as well. The name is Mohamed Kader so that'll be a challenge - like checking on Smiths and Browns. Can you make a start now? I'll email you some more information right away as I can hear you are not where you should be at this time of day - sat at your desk. "

  "That's all very considerate of you, 007. Also very astute. I'm actually strolling towards Marble Arch at present. Can't you hear it? Can't you smell the exhaust fumes?"

  "I can certainly hear something, Colin. Just get back to your bloody office will you? The world can't stop just because you're going out for a sandwich."

  "So where do I send the stuff?"

  "Just hit the reply button on my email, Colin. I'll use the Dan Dare email.

  "So does Dan Dare dare to tell me exactly where in the world he is or is it a secret?"

  "Bangkok, Colin. Your guess was spot on."