The Secret

A glance at the time and a quick calculation suggested it would be just after nine a.m. in Kansas City. Steven called the number Jean had given him and a young woman with a mid-western drawl answered with the name of the aid foundation, adding, ‘My name is Cherry; how can I help you?’

Steven asked to speak to Andrews.

‘Hey, you’re not from round here.’

‘I’m English.’

‘Cool. Who shall I say is calling?’

Steven was told he’d put be put on hold. He wasn’t warned that the gap would be filled with country and western music. He waited patiently while a tale of family tragedy unfolded and a loved one ended up as a star in the sky before Andrews came on the line. ‘Steven, this is an unexpected pleasure. How are you?’

‘Very well, and you?’

‘Real fine. What can I do for you?’

Steven latched on to the ‘real fine’ answer. It was not something he would have expected Andrews to say. The man was a preppy Harvard graduate but, Steven reminded himself, he was also CIA trained, a chameleon who would fit in wherever he happened to be. Currently he was in cowboy country. ‘I’m sorry, Bill, but I’m still not clear about what happened in the gallery of the Strahov library. I was told someone lost a contact lens just before the accident. Have you any idea who that person might be?’

‘I certainly have; it was me. One of my lenses got a bit out of place when I tilted my head back to look up at the ceiling and when I tried to correct the problem, it came right out.’

‘I see,’ said Steven.

‘Which is more than I could at the time,’ joked Andrews. ‘I got down on my hands and knees, imploring people around me to stand still in case they stepped on it. A few folk got down beside me, anxious to help, and there we all were on our knees. I made a joke about not knowing which way Mecca was and I heard Simone laugh. Then... the scream. My God, I still waken up in the night thinking about it.’

Steven took a moment to compose himself. He couldn’t allow any hint of scepticism or anger to reach his voice. At least he now knew it was Khan who’d actually pushed Simone over the balustrade. Andrews had been conducting the diversionary pantomime on the floor at the time.

‘Thanks Bill, I think that answers my question.’ Words were sticking in Steven’s throat but he thought he should add a little small talk. ‘I suppose you guys must be busy organising the new aid teams I heard about?’

‘We sure are. I’ll be coming to Europe next week to speak with the folks at Med Sans and the World Health Organisation about deployment. I’m bound to be in London by Friday — maybe we could meet up and have a beer?’

‘Look forward to it. Call me at the Home Office.’

So Andrews was coming to London, maybe for his given reason, maybe not, but both Simone and Aline’s killers would be in the same place at the same time. He knew he shouldn’t let things get personal but that might prove useful when it came to settling an outstanding score.

Time was getting on: Steven called the Home Office to see if John Macmillan was still there. He had yet to explain his request that he say nothing about Hausman at lunch.

‘He is,’ replied Jean. ‘Shall I put you through?’

Steven said not. He’d come in and speak to him personally.

Macmillan listened to Steven in silence then got up to pour two sherries. Steven noted it was his best Amontillado, a sure sign he was impressed. He handed one to Steven, murmuring, ‘A CIA cover-up masquerading as a CIA confession. Interesting.’

‘I could be wrong.’

Macmillan sighed and said, ‘When it comes to this kind of reasoning, Steven, I can’t recall a single occasion in the past when you ever were. It’s my fear that you won’t be this time so let’s make sure I’m understanding all this. You’re proposing that there’s a new bio-weapon, the brainchild of the British or the Americans or both, being tested on the unsuspecting hill tribes of the Pakistan/Afghanistan border under the guise of a vaccination programme. The CIA got caught out over one of the fake teams but managed to convince everyone it was gathering intelligence which led to the capture of Bin Laden — something that was true but not the whole story. They apologised profusely to all the genuine medical agencies in the region and everyone agreed to keep quiet because of the fear of destroying trust in the whole aid programme?’

Steven nodded. ‘Just about covers everything.’

‘There are times when I feel very old...’

Steven hid a smile.

‘I can’t fault the logic in anything you’ve said but, like you, I wonder about the non-lethal nature of the weapon...’ He held up his hand when he saw Steven about to say something. ‘You’re going to point out that a weapon that incapacitates the enemy is very desirable — perhaps even more desirable than a killer — and I accept that. It’s just that... you wouldn’t think a weapon of that nature would warrant the degree of secrecy and cover-up we’ve been seeing. You might if it was some virus capable of unleashing Armageddon... but an incapacitator?’

Steven took Macmillan’s point. ‘So there must be more to it.’