Ken McClure: The Lazarus Strain

‘Doesn’t look like it,’ agreed Cleary.

Giles exchanged a glance with Morley that conveyed relief.

The last door had Primate House written above it. It was slightly ajar. ‘Jesus,’ said Cleary as he pushed it fully open and entered. ‘All gone.’

Giles noted that the door lock appeared to be undamaged as he joined Cleary inside. ‘How many?’ he asked.

‘Six,’ said Cleary. ‘Tim told me a couple of weeks ago that the primate house was full.’

There were three large cages along each side of the room: their iron-barred doors hanging open apart from one at the far end which was still closed. There was absolute silence in the room apart from the hum of a ventilation fan but the smell of the previous inhabitants lingered on. Giles wrinkled his nose as he turned to Cleary and said, ‘We can’t take the chance. I’m going to call a major alert.’

‘I really don’t think…’

Cleary was interrupted by Morley, who had walked up to the far end of the room. The Sergeant suddenly let out a yell followed by, ‘Jesus fucking Christ! What the…’

The two men spun round just in time to see Morley throw up on the floor. They hurried up to the cage with the closed door.

‘Oh, God in heaven,’ said Giles, his eyes opening like saucers.

Cleary put his hand to his mouth and turned away.

The naked body of a man was sitting in the cage. He was clearly dead and had been badly mutilated. His eyes had been burned with a liquid that had also burned his cheeks as it flowed down over them and he was holding a crudely painted cardboard sign which said, “See how you like it!”

‘Is this Professor Devon?’ asked Giles.

Cleary nodded, still holding his hand to his mouth.

While they waited for the forensic team to arrive outside, Giles asked Cleary, ‘Do you think you could have a look through Professor Devon’s things to see if you can get an idea of what the animals might have been infected with? We need to know quickly.’

Cleary looked uncomfortable. He said, ‘It’s not something I’m keen on doing. I know he’s dead but some of Tim’s work was covered by the official secrets act and I don’t know where I’d stand if I were to start rummaging through his things…’

‘We need to assess any risk to the general public as quickly as possible,’ insisted Giles. ‘We can sort out the paperwork later.’

‘You’re right, of course,’ said Cleary. ‘I’ll do what I can. But as I said before, I’m almost certain there will be nothing to worry about.’

‘Don’t you know what each other was working on?’ asked Giles.

‘No, not really,’ said Cleary. ‘Until recently we all did, but then Tim got involved in politics and told us that he was no longer able to make all his experiments public, so to speak.’

Giles and Morley looked at each other and Cleary quickly added, ‘It was nothing to do with germ warfare or anything like that. Tim was co-opted on to some big government vaccines committee and it was a condition that he could not speak openly about his work, not even to his colleagues. You know how the government likes secrets.’

Giles nodded. ‘It’s a good way of keeping your fuck-ups out of the public eye,’ he said.

‘A cynical but possibly accurate view,’ said Cleary with a smile. ‘I’ll get started in Tim’s room.’ As he made to go back inside the institute he turned to Giles and said, ‘You will remember that you asked me to do this? I mean if men in grey suits turn up and ask what the hell I’m doing, going through my boss’s desk…’

‘You have my assurance,’ said Giles. ‘For what it’s worth,’ he added under his breath as he watched Cleary disappear inside.

Morley appeared at his side. ‘Local radio has put out a warning telling people not to approach the monkeys but to phone the police. Manchester Police have located Mrs Devon and given her the news.’

Giles nodded. ‘Then we can let the murder go out on the evening news. I want to nail these bastards. I really do.’

‘Sorry about what happened in there,’ said Morley sheepishly.

‘Don’t ever feel ashamed of that,’ said Giles. ‘It’s when you start looking at that sort of thing with indifference that you’ll have cause to worry.’

Giles broke off and walked towards the front door as he saw the police pathologist coming out. She was dressed in white coveralls and had a gauze mask slung loosely at her throat. ‘Well, Madge, a bit out of the ordinary, eh?’ he said.

Dr Marjorie Ryman smiled and said, ‘Not exactly what I needed after Sunday lunch. Poor man had a pretty horrible death.’

‘Cause of death?’

‘With the usual provisos, a venous cannula through the heart following extensive torture with a scalpel and bleach.’

‘Thanks Madge. I won’t quote you until you’ve done the PM.’

‘I know you won’t, Frank, that’s why we’re friends.’

A green Rover 75 came up the drive and caught Giles’s attention. He knew that its driver must have satisfied the policeman on the gate but he couldn’t work out who it might be. A tall figure wearing a dark, business suit and carrying a briefcase got out and started walking towards the cluster of vehicles and personnel round the entrance to the institute. ‘Who’s in charge?’ he asked.

‘I am. Who wants to know?’ replied Giles.

The man showed Giles an ID card and said, ‘Nigel Lees, Department of Health. I came as soon as I heard.’

‘And your connection with the institute?’ asked Giles.

‘Professor Devon was on our vaccines advisory committee.’

‘Ah,’ said Giles, remembering what Cleary had said. ‘So you might be in a position to tell us exactly what Professor Devon was working on and what sort of risk the escaped primates might present?’

‘Indeed I am,’ said Lees. ‘Nothing to worry about. Tim was working on next year’s flu vaccine.’

‘Flu?’ exclaimed Giles. ‘Not rabies or bubonic plague?’

‘Nothing like that,’ smiled Lees.

‘So the worst thing these monkeys can be carrying is flu?’

‘Quite so,’ said Lees.

‘Well, that’s a relief,’ said Giles. ‘I was worried when I heard that Professor Devon’s work had to be kept secret from his colleagues…’

Lees seemed to sense immediately that he might have been underestimating Giles’ intelligence. ‘Ah, yes,’ he replied. ‘Well, the secrecy was necessary for technical reasons.’

‘Technical reasons?’ repeated Giles, intent on not letting Lees off the hook.

‘How much do you know about flu vaccine, Inspector?’

‘Only that my mother seems to get it every winter,’ replied Giles. ‘The vaccine, that is, not the flu.’

‘The problem with the flu virus is that it keeps changing its antigenic structure,’ said Lees.

Giles looked blank.

‘In essence, this means that a vaccine effective against flu one year will not necessarily be effective against it the following because the virus will have changed its structure to protect itself. This is further complicated by there being more than one strain of flu going around in any given year.’

‘I see,’ said Giles.

‘What the boffins have to do is make an informed guess as to what the three most likely strains are going to be and design a vaccine accordingly.’

‘Why the secrecy?’

‘Commercial reasons.’ replied Lees. ‘It’s only fair to the pharmaceutical companies contracted to manufacture it.’

‘I see,’ said Giles. ‘Thank you, Mr Lees.’

‘Not at all, Inspector. Now, if I might have access to Professor Devon’s office, there are some papers I must recover.’

‘Of course,’ said Giles. ‘Dr Cleary is looking through his papers at the moment.’