“Naturally,” replied Lennon.
“But let’s hope Max is wrong.”
“I’m sure he must be.”
“What have you done in the light of the new case?” asked Neef.
“I’ve put out a general alert to all hospitals warning them to be on their guard about cases of viral pneumonia.”
“Good,” said Neef.
“I’m also going to try and set up another full meeting for this afternoon to discuss the implications of the new case.”
“What about the Press?” asked Neef. He looked at the ‘Press’ lying beside him in bed, wide eyed as she listened to the conversation.
“I don’t think it’s worth even trying to keep quiet about the latest case,” said Lennon, “but I think we should keep the virus notion very definitely under wraps.”
“Agreed,” said Neef, his eyes not leaving Eve.
Neef passed the phone back to Eve who replaced it on the table. “You heard?” he asked.
Eve nodded. Neef waited for her to say something.
“I heard. I won’t use any of this, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What I’m worried about is not a newspaper story,” said Neef. “It’s the very real possibility that we have a virus on the loose which is capable of spreading lung cancer like it was chicken pox.”
“Then you believe the virus hypothesis?”
“I’m a damned sight more worried about it than Lennon seems to be.”
“What can you do if it is a virus?”
“Very little,” conceded Neef. “There’s nothing we can do at all for people who already have it. Our only hope lies in trying to contain it and stop it spreading. We’ll have to isolate the victims and Public Health will have to trace all their contacts but most important, we’ll have to determine the source of the outbreak and wipe it out. That’s easier said than done. To the best of my knowledge no one has ever found out where a new virus came from.”
“Oh Mike,” said Eve, cuddling into Neef. “I have such a bad feeling about all this.”
Neef didn’t admit it but he was thinking exactly the same thing. “Get some sleep,” he whispered.
Neef was at the hospital by eight, all thoughts of spending a relaxing Sunday with Eve having been dispelled by Lennon’s middle of the night phone call. It wasn’t as if he had a definite plan of action to follow, he just felt he should be there. He was very much on edge. Lennon called again at nine thirty. “I think I know how the electrician got it,” he said. “His work sheet shows that he was called to Pathology to work on a faulty extractor fan. The request was made by Charles Morse.”
“Well done,” said Neef.
“There’s more. I had a bit of luck.”
“Long overdue,” said Neef.
“I went down to Pathology this morning to look around and the duty technician came in while I was there. She told me that Morse and the electrician, Cooper had some sort of a mishap while the repair was being done. Apparently the cowling came off the fan and showered them both with accumulated dirt from inside the ducting. It hit them full in the face and from what she said there’s a fair chance they both inhaled a good deal of it.”
“I see.”
“They thought it a bit of a joke at the time but on further investigation I found out that this extractor was above table 4 in the PM room and that’s where Frank MacSween conducted the autopsies on both Melanie Simpson and Jane Lees.”
“It’s the one he prefers,” said Neef.
“It’s my guess that the carcinogen was concentrated in the dirt behind the cowling because of the fault in the fan. Does MacSween wear a mask when he’s cutting?”
“Always when an infectious disease has been present.” replied Neef.
“So he would wear one when doing Simpson and Lees?”
“I know he was,” replied Neef. “I myself was present on both occasions for a short time.”
“You wore one too?”
“Yes. We were assuming that viral pneumonia had been involved.”
“Just as well,” said Lennon. “I’m having the dirt from inside the ducting examined for the presence of carcinogenic substances.”
“Or a virus,” though Neef as he put down the phone. He reflected on this latest piece of information. It meant that Frank probably hadn’t given the disease to his grandson. It had been Charlie after all.”
“Almost certainly,” said Pereira when Neef called to tell him of the latest development.
“But what we still don’t know is how Melanie Simpson gave it to Jane Lees when they didn’t know each other and most important of all, how Melanie Simpson got it in the first place.”
“Is Lennon going to look for a virus in the dirt from the duct?” asked Max.
“He said he was having it examined for carcinogenic substances,” replied Neef. “I assumed he was going to have the virology lab take a look at it too.”
“If you say so,” said Pereira.
“Why don’t you come along to the meeting this afternoon?” suggested Neef.
“I won’t be finished here in the lab until well after two.”
“I’ll pick you up at three. What do you say?”
“OK.”
Neef tried phoning Farro-Jones at home but his wife, Jane said that he had gone into the medical school. Neef called him at his lab and Farro-Jones replied.
“David? It’s Michael Neef. I tried calling you at home. Jane said you were working.”
“I’m screening these samples from Charles Morse,” replied Farro-Jones. “I thought the sooner the better.”
“Good, that’s really why I was calling,” said Neef. He told Farro-Jones about the new case.
“This is beginning to look more and more like a nightmare.”
“Lennon was wondering if you might have a result by the time of the meeting this afternoon. I think he’s planning on making some kind of statement to the Press afterwards.”
“I can’t promise,” said Farro-Jones, “but I’ll certainly do my best. What time is the meeting?”
“Three thirty.”
“Talk to you later.”
Neef picked up Max at the Menogen Labs at three o’clock. He found him excited. “The new melanoma vector’s looking real good,” he announced. “Like I said, there’s no way we could get the paperwork done in time to help your kid but I was thinking, maybe you could?”
“I don’t understand,” said Neef.
“If a special request for licensing was to be made by the hospital maybe there’s a chance they would listen?”
“That’s certainly worth a try,” said Neef. “You’ll have to tell me what to do, who to approach, that sort of thing.”
“I’ll call lovely Lillie at home when I get back and get her to call you. She’ll tell you all you need to know.”
“Lovely Lillie?”
“Her name’s Miss Langtry,” said Pereira. “She’s the lady who deals with all our license applications.”
The venue of the meeting had been changed at the last minute from St George’s to the Public Health Department offices in Sutton Place. This had been done at the insistence of Tim Heaton who had withdrawn permission to use the hospital when he heard that a press briefing was to be given afterwards. He had done this on the grounds that continual association of St George’s with the Public Health problem was doing the hospital’s reputation no good at all.
Being Sunday, the traffic was mercifully light and Neef and Pereira were only five minutes late in getting to Sutton Place. As they made their way along to the Public Health offices Neef saw Eve standing on the pavement outside with a group of other journalists. He caught her eye and she smiled. He pointed to his watch to signify that they were late and mouthed the words, see you later. Eve nodded in reply.
“I must apologise for the cramped conditions this afternoon,” announced Lennon, “but we had a few last minute problems to contend with.”