Ken McClure - The Secret

‘Would it also be possible to have a list of the people who went on the trip to the Strahov monastery too?’

Schultz sighed, then said, ‘That was arranged locally. You can ask Dr Mazarek, who is standing over there.’ He pointed. ‘He made the local arrangements. He’ll be able to help you.’

Steven looked to the tall fair-haired man indicated by Schultz. He was in conversation with Simone’s parents.

‘What exactly is it you’re investigating, Dr Dunbar?’ asked Schultz.

‘I’d just like to know a bit more about the circumstances surrounding Simone’s death, doctor.’

‘It was a tragic accident. What more is there to know?’

‘Probably nothing, I’m sure.’

‘You give me the impression you’re looking for some kind of scandal, and that is something which could damage the cause that Simone fought so hard for. Any rumour — however unfounded — that her death was anything other than an accident and... well, I’m sure you know what the press would make of it.’

Steven nodded. ‘Believe me, Dr Schultz, damaging the cause that you and so many organisations work for is the last thing on earth I’d want to do. On the other hand... Simone Ricard was my friend. If she had concerns, I’m sure they were well founded.’ Steven ended his comment with a hard stare that made Schultz break eye contact, and turned away.

Steven waited for a chance to speak to Mazarek. When it arose he found the tall Czech to be friendly and outgoing, the kind of person who wore his heart on his sleeve and the sort Steven usually liked instinctively. He said who he was and made polite conversation about how awful it all was before making his request for the list.

The smile faded from Mazarek’s face and he looked worried. ‘Is there some problem?’ he asked.

Steven shook his head and said, ‘I’d just like to be clear about everything in my own mind. Call me a compulsive investigator. Come to think of it, was there an official police investigation into Simone’s death?’

Mazarek spread his hands and seemed slightly nonplussed. ‘Well, the police attended, of course, but we all knew what had happened. Normally visitors to the Strahov are not allowed up into the high gallery, but with it being a private showing for the delegates the rules were relaxed so that people could get a better look at the paintings on the library ceiling. Unfortunately Simone must have leaned out too far, so that she overbalanced and fell to her death; an absolute tragedy. Everyone loved Simone. Surely you can’t be suggesting anything else, doctor?’

Steven gave a dismissive shrug. ‘No, I loved her too. I’d just like to have a clear picture in my mind of what happened... Was anyone with her in the gallery when she fell?’

Mazarek said. ‘Lots of people were up there at the time but I think only two saw what actually happened — I guess they were all looking up at the ceiling. But Bill Andrews, an American administrator, and Dr Ranjit Khan, a Pakistani aid worker working in the Afghan tribal areas, were next to her when it happened: they were inconsolable. Bill needed sedation he was so upset. He blamed himself because Simone had been laughing at some joke he’d made just before she lost her balance.’

‘I can only imagine how he must have felt. Is Mr Andrews here?’

Mazarek looked around. ‘I saw him a few minutes ago.’

‘Maybe I’ll have a word if I come across him.’ Steven smiled and offered his hand. ‘Thank you for your help, Dr Mazarek. Oh, sorry, one more thing. You said Bill Andrews was an American administrator. What exactly does he do?’

‘He’s a field coordinator, doctor, one of the people responsible for the funding and setting up of vaccination programmes on behalf of several US charities.’

‘The same sort of job as Charles Edelman?’ asked Steven.

‘Yes,’ agreed Mazarek, ‘except that Edelman is responsible for distributing official US government money.’

Steven wandered off in search of Andrews, thinking that an American accent shouldn’t be too hard to pick up in present company. He found it coming from a man in his thirties who was talking to Aline. Steven thought that he not only sounded American, he looked it too, the clean-cut product of an Ivy League university. He smiled at Aline and she ushered him into the conversation. ‘Have you met Bill Andrews, Steven?’

‘I was actually hoping we might have a word,’ Steven confessed, shaking hands with Andrews as Aline excused herself. ‘Dr Mazarek tells me you were with Simone when the accident happened. It must have been awful.’

‘God, it’s a moment I’ll never forget. Hell, I’d just made some stupid joke and I could hear Simone laughing. She must have been looking up at the time and I guess she couldn’t have realised how close to the parapet she was. She...’ Andrews paused as if to compose himself, ‘I guess she just toppled over. God, if only I could wind the clock back. The Pakistani doctor who was with us — Dr Khan, I think his name was — and I rushed down the stairs but there was nothing to be done. Simone was dead.’

‘What a nightmare for all concerned.’

‘I know it’s an awful cliché but Simone was... simply the best.’

Steven nodded. ‘I wonder, is Dr Khan here today?’

Andrews looked apologetic. ‘No, he had to return to Pakistan right after the Prague meeting. Time off is a bit of a luxury for these guys.’

‘Of course.’

Someone entering the room caught Andrews’ eye and he put his hand on Steven’s shoulder and said, ‘If you’ll excuse me, doctor. There’s someone I must speak to while I have the chance...’

Seeing that he was adrift and on his own again, Aline joined Steven a few minutes later and he thanked her for getting rid of Edelman earlier. ‘It was a bit of luck you knowing him.’

‘I don’t,’ said Aline. ‘I’d seen him at meetings, of course, but I’d never actually met him before.’

Steven gave her an admiring glance.

‘The poor man was terribly embarrassed at having “forgotten” me. Did you find out what you wanted to know from Schultz?’

Steven shrugged. ‘I don’t think there was much to find out. I think I’d been reading too much into Simone’s letter. Schultz knew that Simone was planning to rock the boat by openly criticising another aid agency and I suspect he and his colleagues were probably a bit heavy-handed in denying her the opportunity.’

‘WHO doesn’t care for internecine strife.’

‘Just out of interest, what was the name of the agency that was pi — annoying Simone so much?’

Aline smiled. ‘The organisation that was pissing her off was Children First.’

Steven was embarrassed at his slip. ‘You speak English very well.’

‘My mother’s English,’ said Aline. ‘Children First is funded by Americans although they tend to disguise that as much as possible by using Pakistani associates. Americans are none too popular in the region where we work.’

Steven nodded. ‘I never realised getting aid to the needy was so difficult. It sounds like you have to tiptoe through a minefield of political sensibilities.’

‘That’s about right,’ agreed Aline with a smile.

‘So, when d’you go back to the minefield?’

‘The day after tomorrow. I’ll be taking over Simone’s role as team leader and a new volunteer medic will join me at the end of next week, but before I go I want to speak to my bosses. I’m not sure if Simone managed to make her concerns known to them. I think I should do it for her just in case.’

‘Good for you. You know, I can empathise with the woman at the service who said that Simone made her feel inadequate. I think you folk all make me feel that way.’