Going Viral (4 page)
The morning after coming back from London, I contacted all the Exeter SCRUB team to arrange a meeting… at least, I
tried
to contact them. I knew that Helen and Anne, the two nurses, were on leave, but when I rang Roland, his secretary told me he was in Southampton at a conference.
Not good – only two of us are supposed to be away at one time. I tried his mobile and got the answering service. Left a curt message telling him to phone me back as soon as he got it.
The nurses both answered their mobiles. One was at home, the other in Wales and both said they could be there for Monday morning.
I decided I’d better tell Tim Butterfield, the team’s scientist, now, and called him in from the lab.
‘It seems that the impossible has happened, Tim,’ I began, and told him about the letter from John Amend-all and the strong suspicion that they were based in this area.
‘Bloody hell –’ He actually went pale, then recovered himself and listened carefully while I described SCRUB’s part in what was being done. ‘Do the others know?’ he asked.
‘Not yet. I’m trying to get everyone together on Monday.’ I didn’t tell him about Roland. ‘The thing is, John Amend-all must have had somewhere to grow the virus, and the feeling at the meeting was that they’ve got a lab of their own hidden away somewhere.’
He shook his head, ‘Not necessarily –’
‘Oh, come on, the security’s a hell of a lot better in NHS labs now.’
‘Oh, sure, in the NHS, but you’re forgetting the universities – security was pretty well non-existent when I was at Bristol. Post grads just came and went as they pleased. I did, anyway.’
‘That was a few years ago,’ I pointed out.
‘I still don’t think they’ve tightened up anything like as much as we have.’
‘Do they still use hen’s eggs?’
‘Well, they did when I was there...’
Tim Butterfield was a Senior Scientific Officer who’d already been in the department when I arrived. He’d done a PhD at Bristol Cabot University, and was thus, incidentally, as entitled to the handle
Doctor
as I. More, some would say, since I hadn’t extended my medical degree beyond Batchelor. He was quiet and rather inward usually, as scientists often are, but was a good virologist.
‘What about the Uni. labs here in Exeter?’ I asked him. ‘Eggs and security.’
‘I don’t know. D’you want me to find out?’
‘Can you?’
‘Sure. I’ll tell them we’re doing a survey on Microbiological Safety and say I want a look around.’ In addition to his other duties, he was Health and Safety Officer for the area.
‘What if they object?’
‘They won’t – nobody argues with Health and Safety these days. And if they
do
have the temerity,’ he continued, ‘I can always invoke your name.’
I let out a sigh – he had a habit of coming out with irritating little quips like that sometimes. ‘Can you fix it up for today?’
He looked at the clock. ‘Doubt it. Probably do it tomorrow, though.’
‘OK, do that.’
He hesitated, then… ‘You think they might really do it? Release live Variola?’
‘We’re working on that assumption.’
He bit his lip as though wondering whether to say more… He had a pleasant, self-contained face with neat features, and always made me think of a well-groomed vole. He’d grown up in Birmingham and had a slight Brummie accent. Actually,
mole
might have been a better description, since it was he who’d kept me informed about Roland’s perfidies…
He started to get up – ‘Well, I’d better get on with it.’
I said, ‘A couple more things…’
He sat down again and I asked if he could do the same thing for all the other university virology labs in the South West. ‘Say, Plymouth, Bristol, Bath and Gloucester.’
‘OK. Cabot’ll be a pleasure.’ he added with a slightly vengeful smile, then, ‘What about the work here?’
‘Anything that can’t wait?’
‘Not really. You said a couple of things…’
‘Mm… Could you make a list of the equipment they’d need, to culture enough virus to infect say a dozen or so people?’
He nodded, stood and started for the door.
‘Oh, and Tim…?’
‘Not a word,’ he said.
After he’d gone, I started on the list of virologists Brigg wanted. The NHS ones were easy enough, there are only about a dozen medical labs in the South West and the information was on their web sites. I rang them to check anyway, in case they were out of date.
The universities were more difficult. Just because they didn’t have a specific virology lab didn’t mean that someone couldn’t culture viruses there, especially if Tim was right about security. And what
is
a virologist? The medical schools probably had lab assistants who were perfectly capable of growing viruses – and what about the medical students themselves?
I did the best I could with them… maybe Tim could find some more as he went round them…
I tried Roland again in the afternoon, but with no luck. However, he phoned me back a few minutes later.
‘Roland, where
are
you?’
‘Southampton,’ he replied.
‘I know that, I mean, why didn’t you tell me about it? You know we’re not supposed to have more than two team members away at a time.’
‘It’s Southampton, not Siberia,’ he said. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘The
problem
Roland, is that I’ve been trying to contact you all morning to arrange a meeting and haven’t been able to. You’re supposed to tell me if you want to leave the area. You
know
that.’
After a pause, he said, ‘Sorry Herry, it slipped my mind.’
Yeah
right
… ‘When is the meeting?’
Monday, I told him. He asked what it was about.
‘I’ll tell you when we’re all here,’ I said and rang off.
I sat for a few minutes, waiting for my heartbeat to settle…
Roland Wade-Stokes was a consultant in infectious diseases and, like all the other team members, had already been here when I’d been made Team Leader. The problem was that he’d also been the other applicant for the Directorship and had never got over not getting it himself. He was a bit older than me, more experienced and he’d been expecting to get it.
Now, he baited me at every opportunity, only backing down when I got heavy.
Infantile, but the fact was that it got my adrenaline going a little bit more on each occasion. There was nothing he’d like better than to see me in the shit again. I knew, through Tim, that he had no qualms about rubbishing me behind my back; I also knew there were others around the hospital who thought he should have got the job.
With an effort, I forced my mind away and went on with the list of virologists.
Tim looked in to say that he’d arranged visits with the Exeter med school and university labs for tomorrow morning, and would try and fix up the others for the following week.
‘They didn’t kick up, then?’
‘Not a bit. I’ll do the list of equipment in the afternoon.’
‘Tim, there’s something else you could do for me while you’re at it –’ I explained about my difficulty of identifying exactly who
were
the virologists in the universities and med schools, and he said he’d find what he could when he visited them.
The next day, Friday, I finished the list of virologists so far as I could, then started on the morning’s reports.
I’d just finished when Rebecca Hale rang and asked if the list was ready yet. I told her I’d got some, but not all of them, and she said she’d call at my house on her way back to London. We agreed on six.
In the afternoon, Tim came to tell me he’d been round the Exeter Uni. labs and that their security was better than he’d expected. He’d also made a list of the equipment needed for a do-it-yourself virus culture kit. We went through it together:
Incubator
, ‘
Fridge
/
freezer
,
Microscope
,
Centrifuge
,
Safety
Cabinet
,
Macerator
,
Bunsen
burner
,
Cell
lines
,
cell
growth
and
maintenance
media
.
Water
,
gas
,
electricity
.
Distilled
water
,
saline
,
chemicals
Most of it wouldn’t be too difficult for a reasonably competent virologist to get hold of.
‘I can’t see them getting a hood, though,’ I said, referring to the Safety Cabinet virologists work under to make sure they don’t get infected themselves. They work by vacuuming air through the front of the cabinet and exhausting it through a filter to the outside.
‘And I can’t see them working without one,’ he said. ‘Not unless they’re mad.’
‘Which by definition, they probably are.’ I said. ‘Anyway, they’ve probably got themselves vaccinated or protected by cowpox.’
‘Getting hold of a vaccine isn’t that easy.’ he said. ‘And would
you
be happy playing around with live Variola just because you’d fondled a cow’s udder?’
‘How elegantly put.’ I said, then, ‘Actually, I might – if I had confidence in my diagnostic skills and was sure I’d had cowpox.’
‘You think one of them is a medic?’
‘No, I’m thinking they’re probably not such perfectionists as you. If they had a secure enough space, I think they’d do it, vaccinated or not.’
He shrugged. ‘You could be right.’
I asked if he’d fixed up visits with any other labs.
‘Yes, but there’s a problem. Cabot say they can only see me on Monday, which is when you wanted to have the meeting. Otherwise, it means waiting till the next week.’
‘Do it Monday.’ I said. ‘We can’t wait that long.’
‘Will you put off the meeting? Bearing in mind we’re all supposed to there. I can just see Roland making a fuss about it…’
‘No, that can’t wait either. Roland’ll have to lump it.’
He nodded his approval. ‘Anyway, I’ve fixed up Bath for Tuesday, Plymouth Wednesday afternoon and Gloucester Thursday.’
I told him to let me know how he got on, and he left.
At five thirty, I logged out and drove back to my mean little box in the dismal little estate on the edge of town. Rebecca Hale was waiting outside for me. I took her to the sitting room and asked her if she wanted tea or coffee.
‘Sorry to be precious, but d’you have any skimmed milk?’
I did, and she asked for tea.
When I came back in with a tray, she was by the bookcase glancing through the titles.
‘Detective work?’ I said as I put the tray on the coffee table.
She smiled. ‘It’s amazing what you can tell about someone from their living room.’
I sat down, poured. ‘But not a lot from mine.’
‘No, not a lot. You like reading, you’ve got catholic tastes, but you haven’t lived here long, have you?’
‘Fifty points.’ I paused, went on, ‘When my wife and I separated, we sold the house and I moved into this one.’
‘It’s rented?’
I nodded and she said, ‘Explains the lack of character.’
‘Could be that
I
lack character, of course. Sugar?’
‘Could be.’ she agreed. ‘Just milk, please.’
I handed her cup and saucer. She sat on the sofa and took a sip.
I gave her the list of the virologists I’d found so far and explained why it wasn’t complete, then told her how Tim was going to look for others when he inspected the university labs.
She put her cup down. ‘I wish you’d asked me before letting him in on this – how much does he know?’
‘Only that you need the names of the virologists to compare with the charity members,’ I said.
‘Don’t you remember the commander saying he didn’t want the teams knowing about the police operation?’
‘That’s hardly a major part of the police operation,’ I pointed out.
‘Even so…’
‘Besides, like us, Tim’s signed the Official Secrets Act and to be frank, I don’t think we’re going to find out where they’re doing it without his help.’
I showed her the list of equipment Tim had made, and how he thought the need for a safety cabinet meant they were more likely to be doing it in a university lab than have their own.
‘All right,’ she said, ‘I take your point, but another time, could you ask, please?’
I nodded curtly. ‘All right.’
