The Secret

SIX

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.’

‘Nonsense, it’s just a job we choose to do,’ said Aline. ‘How about you? Are you flying home tonight?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘In that case… maybe we could share a meal this evening if you don’t have any other plans?’

‘No I don’t’ Steven confessed. ‘That would be nice.’ He had picked up on a hesitation in Aline’s voice, thinking that she might be about to add something but nothing came of it. ‘I think I saw everyone I wanted to see this afternoon with perhaps the exception of Dr Ranjit Khan, but Bill Andrews was present at the scene and he seemed a reliable witness. Maybe I should have spent more time commiserating with Simone’s parents, but having everyone together in the same room was just too good a chance to miss when it came to asking questions.’

‘I’m sure Simone would have understood that you were doing it for her. She was lucky to have such a loyal friend. What now? Investigation over?’

‘I think so. I feel a bit happier in my own mind.’ Once again he got the impression that Aline wanted to say something and this time she did.

‘Steven…Perhaps I haven’t been completely frank with you about all Simone’s concerns. She actually telephoned me from Prague…’

She paused, and Steven urged, ‘Go on.’

‘No, this is not the time or place. It can wait till later.’

‘All right,’ said Steven. He and Aline exchanged details of where they were staying and agreed to meet later at a restaurant situated midway between them that Aline knew and recommended, the Monsonnier.

Steven decided to walk by the Seine for a bit before returning to his hotel. He felt uncertain about the conclusions he’d reached after what Aline had just said — or rather not said. Everything had been pointing to his having read too much into Simone’s letter but now… He wished that Aline hadn't left him hanging.

On impulse, he walked out on Pont Neuf and leaned on the parapet to watch the river traffic pass by as he thought things through again. He paused and smiled as a bateau-mouche appeared then disappeared under the bridge, leaving a fading calling card of happy voices and piped accordion music. Another load of tourists were living the Paris dream.

Steven acknowledged the possibility that he might be reading too much into Aline's behaviour. It was pretty clear that Simone’s assertion that something was very wrong had to do with the sloppiness of another agency in the field and their subsequent rudeness. Even if Aline were to tell him later that it was a bit more than sloppiness — maybe downright incompetence — it would be no big deal in the great scheme of things. Everyone gets hacked off with colleagues from time to time and probably even more so in the stressful situations in which the two agencies were working.

Simone had been annoyed about getting the run-around from the meeting organisers in Prague but it was clear why it had happened. Schultz had been unhappy about her intention to criticise another agency openly and had stopped her by denying her a speaking slot. As for the fatal fall, an American aid worker and a Pakistani doctor had been in the gallery at the time of the fall and had witnessed the event. They were both distraught afterwards and one even blamed himself for having distracted Simone with a joke before she fell.

Steven had to consider why Simone had sent the letter at all. Why had she wanted to see him? The letter hadn’t been a simple suggestion that old friends meet up and she would hardly have approached him about the ins and outs of an aid agency squabble, so why had she felt the need to call on the help of an ex-soldier — or an investigator?

The answer wasn’t to be found in the sluggish, muddy water of the Seine or on any of the canvases being studiously worked on by artists on the bridge as he sauntered slowly back to the left bank. He returned to his hotel and showered before calling home.

A breathless Tally answered. ‘I’m just in,’ she said. ‘How’d it go?’

‘I’m glad I came. There weren’t that many people.’ Steven explained why he thought this was.

‘A pity. Did you find out what was worrying her?’

‘It seems that she felt another aid organisation wasn’t doing its job properly and she’d decided to blow the whistle on them.’

‘So her death coming immediately after the letter was a coincidence?’

‘I think so,’ Steven agreed. ‘Another fine Dunbar conspiracy theory ruined by a nasty little fact.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. I suspect Sci-Med are going to be fully occupied with other things pretty soon.’

‘Really?’

‘We admitted two children from a refugee family a few days ago. The lab haven’t confirmed it yet but we think they’re suffering from polio.’

Steven let out a low whistle. ‘That’s a bit of a show-stopper,’ he murmured. ‘We were only talking about this sort of thing before I left. Where are they from?’

‘Afghanistan.’

‘That fits. I’m told it’s one of the few places where it’s still endemic. How bad are the kids?’

‘They’re both displaying lower limb paralysis. One of them looks as if she might be getting worse. Her breathing’s becoming affected and if that happens… poor mite.’

‘This sounds like a nightmare from the past, the days of iron lungs and all that. Are the press on to it?’

‘Not yet.’

‘I take it you’re under pressure to keep it under wraps?’

‘You can say that again. I’m going back to the hospital tonight. An expert is coming up from London to speak to medical and senior nursing staff about the disease and how we should handle things.’

‘Not Tom North?’

‘The very same. Do you know him?’

Steven told her that he’d been to see North to get a briefing about the work Simone had been engaged in.

‘Well, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow when I can tell you all about it. You are coming up?’

‘You bet.’

‘So what are you going to do with yourself this evening, all alone in the city of romance?’

Steven cleared his throat. ‘Actually, I’m having dinner with a young lady.’ He closed his eyes, waiting for the expected ‘What?’ to arrive. It did. He explained who Aline was.

‘Well, don’t get carried away with her selfless dedication, will you?’

‘No chance,’ Steven assured her.