The Secret

Steven wondered for a few moments if he’d got away without arousing suspicion. He thought there was a fair chance he had, but questioning Tom North about blood samples from Afghanistan might turn out to be a whole new ball game — but one that would have to wait until tomorrow. First, he wanted to follow a hunch. He opened his wallet and took out the card the French policeman, Le Grice, had given him when they had discussed the sharing of information. Philippe Le Grice had impressed him as being bright — perhaps too bright to succeed in a profession where kissing the right arses and doing things by the book tended to pave the way to the higher echelons. It would be interesting to hear his take on developments in the Aline Lagarde case.

Le Grice wasn’t available when Steven called but he rang back thirty minutes later just as Steven was thinking of leaving for the day.

‘So, Aline Lagarde was a big bad drug dealer,’ said Steven, not bothering to remove the scepticism from his voice.

‘Apparently so.’

‘Your people must have come up with some pretty convincing evidence?’

‘Not my people,’ said Le Grice. ‘Apparently our drugs squad have had their eye on her for some time... although strangely my friend in Drugs didn’t seem to know anything about it.’

‘But let me guess, your intelligence people did?’

‘They came up with so much information... in such a short space of time... We are truly blessed to have such talent at our disposal.’

Steven judged the time right to make his appeal. ‘Philippe, an experienced detective like you must know that something wasn’t quite right?’

‘The smell was overpowering.’

‘But?’

‘Madame Le Grice has plans for my pension.’

‘So the case is closed?’

‘Oh no, not until Dr Lagarde’s killer is brought to justice. The investigation will continue... with all the vigour you might expect where a drug dealer and a gangland killing is involved.’

‘Her parents will be very pleased,’ said Steven flatly.

There was a long pause before Le Grice said, ‘Of course, if you should happen to uncover something that contradicts the official version of events...’

‘I’ll let you know.’

‘Have a care, Steven. I think you have a saying... discretion is the better part of valour?’

‘Point taken.’

Steven drove north to Leicester: he was in the flat when Tally got home at ten thirty and gave him a peck on the cheek before plumping herself down beside him.

‘Well, honey, how was your day?’ Steven mimicked in US sitcom style.

‘There aren’t enough expletives in the world to describe my day,’ Tally replied. ‘Do you think these people who go to church on Sundays and prattle on about all things bright and beautiful ever think about the microbial world and what bacteria and viruses do to people?’

‘I think the deal is, God only gets credit, not blame.’

‘Just like the bloody government.’

‘Exactly. Only previous governments get blame.’

‘I’ve got an interview at Great Ormond Street.’

‘That’s wonderful.’

‘Let’s not count our chickens. It’s one of the best children’s hospitals in the world, remember. Competition will be fierce.’

‘The best should employ the best. You’ll walk it.’

‘We’ll see,’ said Tally, getting up. ‘How about you? What was the mystery meeting about?’

Steven told her and Tally’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. ‘Fake aid teams? They were pretending to vaccinate children and leaving them unprotected in a polio endemic area? Is there nothing those bastards won’t stoop to? How many kids have they left paralysed so they could bring in the man who shot their “paw”?’

‘There’s more,’ said Steven thoughtfully. ‘They’re covering up something else, something big enough for MI6, the CIA and possibly French intelligence to be involved in. I’m convinced Simone and Aline were murdered because they stumbled into it.’

Tally’s anger was being replaced by alarm. She pursed her lips. ‘Steven, I know this is all awful but... you can’t bring them back... and if the Foreign Secretary and MI6 are involved... they’re on our side, aren’t they? Wouldn’t you be going up against... your own?’

‘Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do...’

‘Don’t you start! This is not a joking matter. You don’t have to do this at all.’

Steven stared at the floor for what Tally thought was an eternity before he looked up and said apologetically, ‘I think I do.’

Tally felt a hollow appear in her stomach. She nodded slowly. ‘I suppose you do. Drink?’

‘Please.’

Steven called Tom North in the morning and asked about the samples Simone and Aline had taken from the sick people in the village they’d come across, resigned to the fact that by lunchtime Whitehall would know about the inquiry.

‘I don’t think I dealt with them personally but I can certainly find out for you if it’s important?’ North replied.

‘I’d just like to know why so many people, including children, had fallen ill,’ said Steven. ‘As I understand it, the fake aid teams the Americans put in would account for the kids not being vaccinated properly against polio... but that wouldn’t make anyone sick, would it?’