The Malthus Pandemic

by Terry Morgan

CHAPTER 49

  Larry Brown had also had a sleepless night. So far there had been no word from the American Ambassador but that had not come as a surprise. But going over things in his mind and thinking about Daniel's revelation about missing scientists, Larry suddenly remembered Philippe Fournier.

  He phoned the Nairobi private number again but there was no answer. He tried Philippe's mobile number but there was not even a ring tone. He then decided to try Philippe's place of work - the Kenyatta National Hospital. After being passed from one department to another, the answer was clear. Philippe had disappeared with no warning, no notice and no sign of any problems except that he was well known for complaints about his low level of pay. Larry phoned Daniel to report it.

  "No word from him at all, Daniel."

  "OK, we'll just add him to the growing list then Larry. Any news from the Ambassador?"

  "No."

  "Would you like to check with him what he thinks about the Biological Weapons Convention? Do they talk to WHO? I've not had time to check but how does the BWC operate anyway. Is it another toothless talking shop?"

  "I've already checked, Daniel, and it's the latter. Tinkering with the transmission of microbes is covered by the Biological Weapons Convention but on the bioethics front I've heard they're a miserable bunch only interested in playing with words and seeking personal status. I don't think they'd have a clue what to do if a real situation arose. They'd probably organise a few more meetings."

  "Exactly what I thought. Any news from Kevin?"

  "No."

  "Well, I can't just sit here, Larry. I've decided I'm going to Cairo."

  "Why?"

  "Only because things seem to point to Cairo. But first I'm going back to UK for a few days I've got some personal affairs to sort out but then I'm off and....." I paused. It had been on my mind for a day or so. "Any chance we could meet in London, Larry? You, me, Kevin? Put faces to the voices?"

  We agreed. Larry could make his own decisions, no need to ask permission. Larry would speak to Kevin and Kevin was unlikely to have problems either - apparently he never asked permission either.

  As Anna had promised my day started at 3am. We took a taxi to a bus station on the outskirts of Bangkok, then a long bus ride north west towards the provincial capital of Kanchanaburi and then another taxi to Anna's family village way out amongst the hills, besides a lake and surrounded by forest. It was beautiful.

  I met her mother, her father, a sister and her sister's two young children and we stayed until late afternoon. During all that time, I just watched and listened from a seat on a hard wooden platform in the shade of mango trees. As Anna's father sat and listened with an occasional nod in my direction, Anna, her mother and her sister talked almost non-stop. I don't know what it was about but I know I was a subject of some particular interest. They probably also talked about London, how cold it might be there and about family matters. I just sat and waited. I ate the lunch that Anna and her sister prepared whilst talking and I drank the iced coconut juice that arrived from somewhere.

  It was a day I will never forget. For Anna it was a day that she would eventually look back on with both happiness and sadness but we'll come to that.

  By midnight we were back at the hotel in Bangkok. By midday on the following day we were on a flight to London and fourteen hours later I unlocked the door of my apartment for the first time in over six weeks. Quick tour over for Anna's benefit, I had a long phone discussion with Colin and fixed a time to meet up. Anna dusted the flat, tidied it and then sorted things out to her liking. When she'd finished, it looked a whole lot better.

  Larry Brown arrived in London from Lagos the following day and Kevin Parker took a train to London and we all met in the Cumberland Hotel on Marble Arch where I also then introduced them to Colin.

  For three hours either side of lunch we got to know one another better. We shared views, opinions, exchanged new information and agreed that whilst we had all started from different points and arrived at very similar conclusions, there were still too many unanswered questions. But our conclusion was quite clear - something needed to be done by someone The question was what and who would do it.

  Finally, we agreed to split responsibilities between us.

  While I flew to Cairo to try to track down the company or companies, Kevin would raise questions with his UK Member of Parliament, push the matter to Government level and try to get some clarification on what powers the UK and EU had to act.

  "Don't take no for an answer, Kevin," I said. "If your MP shows signs of doing nothing then raise it direct with the Minister responsible for international trade or someone you think will listen. And whilst you're going with all that fix a meeting with a Member of the European Parliament, a MEP. And if that all gets bogged down and goes nowhere, let's talk again. But we need someone in a powerful position, perhaps even the Prime Minister to sit up and take notice. It's very urgent and I suspect we may be reaching a point where it will be too late."

  Larry interrupted. "We were already too late for the hundred Nigerian deaths and the Thai deaths, Daniel. And who the hell was the doctor, Doctor Mustafa and where is he now?"

  That question sparked another from me.

  "Tell me again, Kevin. What did this Mohamed El Badry look like?"

  Kevin described him but Kevin's memory seemed to lack a talent for remembering faces. "Typical Arab, Daniel - big brown face, suit, tie, moustache if I recall." It could have been anyone.

  "And the apartment in London?"

  "Posh. Chelsea Embankment."

  "And a woman was there?"

  "Yes, she answered the door."

  "Any sign of children around?"

  "No, none. Why?"

  "Perhaps you met Mohamed Kader, Kevin, not Mohamed El Badry," I said. "And was there anyone who saw your Doctor Mustafa and could describe him, Larry?"

  "Plenty of them I suspect but many of them who got a real close-up are now dead. There might be some left like the lady who I spoke to outside the closed clinic in Kano. She saw him come and go in a Toyota pick-up truck. Are you suggesting Mohamed Kader was also Doctor Mustafa?"

  "Makes sense doesn't it?" I replied, "He'd fit in quite well in and around Kano, wouldn't he? It might be a reason why he gained their trust. And there is evidence he had travelled to Nigeria - and Pakistan."

  We discussed Greg O'Brian - GOB.

  "He could be anywhere," I said, "But I'd be surprised if he isn't also dabbling in other things besides Livingstone Pharmaceuticals. I can't imagine a man like GOB in the pharmaceutical industry - it doesn't fit. It just wouldn't be exciting enough. OK, he's hoping to make money out of it but I think there's something more."

  Attention then turned to what Larry would do back in Lagos. Unlike Kevin, Larry already knew.

  "Phone the Ambassador - push him like crazy for answers, the same as I hope Kevin will do here in UK. I won't wait long for an answer either. I give him a day or so and if he's still too distracted by his diplomatic duties, then I'll speak direct to Washington. I'll chase chairs and committee members on Homeland Securities, Commerce, Science, anyone who'll listen. I'll speak to my own Senator in New York State, see what she has to say. If she wants my vote then I want her ear and then I'll want some action. And if I can't do anything from Lagos, I'll jack the whole fucking job in, push it up the Ambassador's arse and go straight to Washington for a showdown with the Secretary of State."

  Kevin clapped. Colin slapped Larry on the back.

  "But I've not finished there either," Larry went on, "Who the hell runs the Biological Weapons Convention, I want to know. Last time I looked it was the Division of Peace Studies of the University of Bradford and the website was nearly two years out of date. Where the hell is Bradford anyway, Colin? But it's important because the transmission of a microbe is covered by the Convention. But have they got any teeth? How do they react to evidence of a threat? Is there a system in place? If so what is it and how quick can it react? Who decides?


  "I have a thousand questions about that fucking organisation. It's probably run by a bunch of job's worth and failed politicians who get paid to stay in the best hotels, get welcomed to champagne receptions, dress up like penguins for nice big dinners and then put the job on their CVs so they can similar jobs with similar perks. And you and I are paying all their fucking expenses through our tax.

  "So, before or after I get on a plane for Washington to see the Secretary of State I'll also jump on one going to Geneva or Bradford or wherever their office is. And, while I'm in Geneva I'll walk into the WHO's office and ask to speak to the Director General and ask her if she really has any powers or is the WHO just a source of basic, common-sense health advice of the sort I normally get by checking the colour of my tonsils, my lumps or looking at myself in the mirror."

  That evening, after Larry and Kevin had departed, I took Anna out and Colin joined us. For Anna it was her first taste of Italian food but I knew it was Colin's favourite. For me it was a relaxing interlude with the man who, as Colin himself constantly reminded Anna with only just a hint of tongue in cheek, "It's very sad, Anna but did you know I'm the only friend he's got."

  "Well, he now has two, Colin." Anna said, holding my hand. At which point I admit I excused myself to go to the men's room.

  "Take care of her please, Colin," I said as we parted later. "I hope not to be gone more than a few days but you never know."