Ken McClure - The Anvil

A man answered. MacLean remembered him as Eva’s husband and smiled. ‘I don’t suppose you will remember me,’ he said. ‘Eva and I used to work together.’

Stahl moved forward to get a better look at MacLean. His movement and the impolite way he stared through narrowed eyes into MacLean’s face suggested that he had been drinking. It was just after seven in the evening.

‘Oh yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I remember you all right.’

MacLean felt embarrassed as Stahl continued to stare at him without saying anything.

‘You’re the one who changed her face and made her beautiful.’ The word was a sneer.

‘Is something wrong?’ asked MacLean.

The man threw back his head in bitter laughter. ‘Wrong?’ he exclaimed. ‘What could possibly be wrong?’

‘Perhaps we could talk inside?’ suggested MacLean.

Stahl took a step back and brought his arm down in front of him in a mock bow. ‘Come in dear Doctor, the least I can do for the man who turned my wife into a whore is offer him a drink.’

MacLean did not go inside. Instead he said, ‘Can I take it Eva no longer lives here?’

‘Eva no longer lives here. We were divorced two years ago.’

‘Have you any idea where she is living now?’ MacLean asked, determined not to be swayed from his objective.

‘Not the slightest,’ slurred Stahl, adopting an expression of smug satisfaction.

‘Then I’ll say good-night,’ said MacLean turning on his heel and starting back along the hallway.

‘Don’t you want to know all the details?’ Stahl called after him.

‘I don’t think so,’ replied MacLean without looking round. Stahl was of no further use to him.

MacLean had a drink in a hotel bar while he considered what to do next. If Eva had remarried or was living with someone else then he might never find her. On the other hand, if she had not remarried and had her own apartment she might be in the phone book.

There was an Eva Stahl listed at 67, Rue Martin. MacLean scribbled down the number on the edge of a beer mat and dialled from a booth in the hotel lobby. His hopes rose when a voice he thought he recognised said, ‘Eva Stahl.’

‘Is that the Eva Stahl who used to work for Lehman Steiner?’ asked MacLean.

‘I work at Lehman Steiner. Who is this please?’

‘Sean MacLean.’

There was long pause before MacLean heard, ‘Sean? Is it really you?’

MacLean assured her that it was.

Eva sounded quite emotional. She made several false starts before managing to say, ‘Sean, I can’t tell you how good it is to hear from you. I had no idea what happened to you. They told me you had some kind of nervous break-down but when I tried to find you, you’d already left Geneva.’

‘Can we meet?’ asked MacLean.

‘Of course,’ replied Eva enthusiastically. ‘How about this evening?’

‘I hoped you’d say that,’ said MacLean. They arranged to meet by the floral clock in the Jardin Anglais in an hour. MacLean was only ten minutes away; he had another drink.

When MacLean saw Eva approaching he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of professional pride. She was wearing a dark blue suit, which emphasised her fairness. Her hair was swept back and clasped revealing the classically beautiful contours of her face. Eva noticed him appraising her. ‘Well, what do you think?’

‘Stunning,’ replied MacLean and meant it.

‘And all thanks to you,’ said Eva. She took MacLean’s arm and they started to walk. ‘Do you really mean that?’ asked MacLean.

‘Of course I do,’ replied Eva. ‘Why would you think otherwise?’

MacLean told her of his visit to her old flat.

‘Oh I see,’ said Eva. ‘You’ve been speaking to Peter and he told you that I was the whore of Babylon?’

‘Something like that,’ agreed MacLean.

Eva sighed and said, ‘It’s ironic really. There never were any other men while I was married to Peter. I loved him; I didn’t want anyone else but he simply couldn’t come to terms with the way I looked after the operation. He became pathologically jealous and suspicious. If I was late in getting home it was because I was seeing someone else. If I had to change my shift it was because I wanted to be with “him”. If we got a wrong number on the phone it was “him” finding out if I was alone.’ It finally got so bad I couldn’t stand it any more; I had to leave him and find a place on my own.’

‘And now?’

‘Peter and I are divorced.’

‘Yes, he told me.’

”The answer to your next question is, yes, there is somebody new in my life. His name is Jean-Paul and we’re very happy.’

‘I’m glad,’ said MacLean. ‘How about Lehman Steiner, you said you still work for them?’

‘Yes I do,’ replied Eva. ‘Is that why you’re here? Are you coming back to work for them too?’

MacLean shook his head and took his time in answering. He had to be careful because he did not want to involve Eva in the nightmare any more than necessary. On the other hand he had to tell her something if he expected her to help. He told her that it was imperative that no one at Lehman Steiner should know he was still alive let alone here in Geneva. For the present he was using the name, Keith Nielsen.

Eva looked puzzled but agreed to keep his secret. MacLean asked her about Cytogerm.

‘That was all over before you left,’ protested Eva.

‘And you haven’t heard of it since?’ persisted MacLean.

‘Of course not, it was lethal, remember? I was one of the lucky ones.’

MacLean nodded and realised that he’d have to tell her more. ‘I think Lehman Steiner might still be using it,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why and I don’t know what for but I’m pretty sure they are.’

‘What makes you so certain?’ asked Eva.

MacLean told her of the fate of the Cytogerm team and watched her eyes fill with horror. ‘I knew Kurt had died but I didn’t know about the rest,’ she said. ‘God, this is terrible.’

‘The only thing we had in common was the Cytogerm project,’ said MacLean.

‘And you’re back here to expose them?’ asked Eva.

MacLean shook his head and said, ‘No, Eva, I need to get my hands on some Cytogerm and I need it badly.’

‘Surely you’re not going to use it?’ gasped Eva. ‘It’s far too dangerous.’

‘There’s no other option in this case,’ said MacLean, ‘I promise you.’

Eva looked at him and saw the pain in his eyes. ‘Tell me,’ she said gently.

MacLean told her what had happened to Carrie, how he felt the ‘accident’ was his fault.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Eva, giving MacLean’s arm an extra squeeze. She said that she would make enquiries about Cytogerm.

‘Oh no you won’t,’ exclaimed MacLean, horrified at the thought. ‘You mustn’t even mention it!’

‘But how can I find out anything if I can’t mention it?’ protested Eva.

MacLean asked her if she remembered a man called, Von Jonek.’

‘I do indeed,’ replied Eva with a wry smile. ‘That was one of the few times I ever saw you really angry. He came to the clinic didn’t he?’

‘He came for the Cytogerm files,’ said MacLean. ‘Did you ever see him again?’

Eva thought for a moment then said, ‘Do you know, I believe I did, but for the moment I can’t think where. Is this important?’

MacLean said that it was. He had reason to believe that Von Jonek’s whereabouts might be the key to finding Cytogerm. ‘The company told me that he was some kind of archivist but I didn’t believe that. He had more than a historical interest in Cytogerm, I’m sure of it.’

‘So you would like me to find out about Von Jonek?’ said Eva.

‘I’d be grateful,’ said MacLean. ‘But please be careful. Don’t ask questions of anyone directly. Try to use computer files and lists.’