Past Lives (25 page)

'Oui?'

'Simone? It's Mac.'

'Mac, you can’t be back in Scotland already. Where are you?'

'I was intercepted at the airport. I'm being held somewhere in the city. I don’t know where exactly.'

'Being held? Oh my God . . . who?'

Macandrew's eyes never left the tip of the soldering iron. 'The men from the cathedral,’ he croaked because his throat was so tight. ‘They want you to hand over Burnett’s lab notes and any of the protease you might have.’

'Have they hurt you, Mac?’ asked Simone anxiously.'

'No,' Macandrew croaked. ‘. . . not yet.’

Parvelli took the receiver and said, 'Listen carefully, Madame. You will tell your police guard that you have decided to go down to the south for a few days. Get on the eight o'clock TGV from Gare du Norde to Marseilles on Friday morning. Bring the stuff and the notes with you. Tell the police that you won't need any further protection once you are on the train.'

'What if they insist on coming with me?'

'Make a point of going to the bathroom just before the train enters the station in Lyon.

'And if I don’t do this?'

Parvelli handed the phone back to Steven and nodded to Stroud who pressed the tip of the soldering iron into the sole of Macandrew’s foot and kept on pressing. Macandrew's scream of pain tore through the room as the iron sank into his flesh.

Parvelli took the phone from him and clicked it off.

The shock of what had happened, followed by a
tsunami
of pain, forced Macandrew to spiral down into merciful unconsciousness.

When he came round, he didn’t feel much pain at all but then his head felt fuzzy so he knew that he had been drugged. Gingerly, he used his left foot to feel if his right had been bandaged: it had but it didn't feel like a proper bandage. He had just started to wonder how bad the damage to his foot was before he found himself drifting back into semi-consciousness again. He was to remain in this drug-induced twilight state for many hours to come, reacting only to major stimuli.

At one point, he was aware of being carried from the apartment and knew that it was night because of the darkness of the sky and the fact the streetlights were on. He realised later that he was travelling through city streets because of the motion of the vehicle and vague traffic sounds. At intervals, Stroud loomed up out of the mists that surrounded him and his curiously expressionless face came close to his as he was given yet more medication to keep him in drug-induced limbo.

Macandrew had absolutely no conception of the passing of time over what was in reality an interval of some thirty-six hours. When he finally did come round, the agonising pain in his foot told him that medication had stopped. On top of this, he was thirsty – very thirsty. His mouth felt like the floor of a sun-scorched desert. He tried sitting up but found that his right wrist was handcuffed to the head of the bed. It felt warm in the room and he could see the sun shining outside. The fact that the window was open suggested that he was no longer in Paris. He remembered the instructions given to Simone and deduced that he must now be somewhere in the south of France.

As full consciousness returned, pain and thirst made him call out. The fat man responded. He came into the room and surveyed Macandrew with his slow-blinking stare for a few moments before leaving again. Stroud appeared and Macandrew asked for water and something for the pain. He was given a plastic cup, half full of tepid water which he steeled himself to sip rather than gulp down. He held out the cup for more and the fat man complied mutely.

As Macandrew worked the water round his gums he became conscious of the fact that he hadn't had a wash since leaving Simone's apartment and God knows how long ago that was. The stubble on his face rasped against his shirt collar and he saw the sweat stains on it. Then, as he looked down at his bandaged foot, a vaguely sweet smell in the air registered with him. It was unpleasant and somehow disturbingly familiar. An alarm went off in his head as he realised what it was. It was the smell of a bacterium, S
taphylococcus aureus
! – a constant bugbear in all surgical units. The wound site must be turning septic! The appearance of the bandage confirmed his fears. It was filthy.

Macandrew started to panic. 'Christ man, my foot’s infected!

'There’s nothing I can do,' said Stroud.

‘
I have to clean the wound.’

‘
Later,’ said Stroud.

'At least, give me something for the pain?'

Stroud left the room and came back a few moments later with two capsules which he tossed on the table. Macandrew threw them into his mouth and washed them down with the last of the water in the cup. He held it out for more and the fat man complied.

The capsules dulled the pain but the nightmare of infection was adding to Macandrew’s anguish. If the wound was left to fester, blood poisoning would almost certainly ensue and he might well die. His head fell back on the pillow as he faced up to another unpleasant fact: he was worrying about a long-term problem when he might not actually have a long-term to worry about. As soon as Simone handed over the notes, both he and she would become expendable. The thought had no sooner entered his head than he heard Simone's voice next door. Voices were raised and she was demanding, 'Where is Dr Macandrew?'

Simone's eyes filled with horror when she saw the state of him. She sank to her knees beside him, putting her arm round his shoulders and pushing his matted hair back from his forehead. 'Oh Mac,' she said. 'What have they done to you?'

'I'm sorry,' said Macandrew hoarsely. 'I couldn’t refuse to make the phone call.'

Simone put her finger to her lips. ‘You couldn't do anything else.’ She looked down at his foot. ‘My God, what did they do to you?’

Macandrew told her and Simone gasped. ‘The bastards!’

'Enough! Have you brought what we told you to bring?' interrupted Stroud who was standing behind her. Parvelli, who had brought Simone to the apartment, stood threateningly beside him.

When Simone didn’t respond Stroud snapped angrily, 'Come! You wanted to be sure he was alive and you can see that he is.'

'Only until you hand the notes over,' said Macandrew. 'Then we both become surplus to requirements.'

'I haven't got them on me,' said Simone.

'What?' said Parvelli.

'I’m not entirely stupid. I wasn’t going to take the risk of you just taking them and then killing us.'

Parvelli took a menacing step towards her but Stroud stopped him. ‘Where are they?’ he demanded.

'I have a proposition,' said Simone.

Parvelli made to move closer again but Stroud again put a restraining hand on his arm. 'Go on.'

'You want the notes very badly. You think that, once you have them, you will be able to make as much of the protease as you want. Am I right?’

‘
What’s your point?’ asked Stroud.

'The chances of you being able to synthesise the chemical would be about the same as me flying to the moon on a broomstick.'

'You’re lying.'

'No, it was difficult, even for a top-flight biochemist like John Burnett to synthesise it. Amateurs would have no chance. You need us alive. Dr Macandrew and I are both trained scientists. I suspect that you are not.'

Macandrew closed his eyes and wished Simone well with her gamble. He personally had trouble reconstituting TV dinners let alone carrying out complicated biochemical syntheses.

'What have you done with the notes?'

'I mailed them along with the protease.'

'To whom?’

'To myself . . . at the Post Office . . . here in Marseilles.'

Simone was left alone with Macandrew while Stroud and the others left the room to consider the situation. 'You are in a lot of pain,' she said.

'I think the wound's infected: the dressing was dirty and hasn't been changed.’

'Animals!' said Simone.

'Were the police on the train?'

Simone nodded. 'They were but they had to keep their distance in case I was being watched. I was snatched when we stopped outside the station at Lyon. I don’t think the police were expecting that.'

'You don’t think they were able to follow?'

'I’d like to think so but it all happened so quickly. The train stopped at a signal outside the station. They obviously knew about that – maybe even arranged it - and that's when they grabbed me. They had a four-wheel drive vehicle waiting in a field by the track. It was over in seconds. I really don’t think the police were prepared for that. They were expecting to follow from Lyon station because they thought that’s where I’d be met. I hate to say it but we may be on our own.'

'So we concentrate on staying alive and look for a chance to escape,' said Macandrew. 'You were brilliant through there.’

'Do you think they’ll go along with it?'

''It's my guess they’re trying to contact Ignatius right now,' said Macandrew.

'But maybe two vials of protease are all he needs,' said Simone. ‘If he only has the one subject . . .’

'I don't think he can afford to take that chance,' said Macandrew. 'With half the police forces of Europe looking for him, he can hardly go around recruiting biochemists if he hits a snag. He’ll want you to make some more; I’m sure of it.'

'Let’s hope you're right.’

'Where exactly did you send the stuff to?' asked Macandrew.

'The main post office, here in Marseilles. I sent it
post restante
. I have to pick it up in person.'

'If you get a chance to escape,' said Macandrew. ‘You must take it.’

'We are in this together.'

Macandrew squeezed her hand and insisted, ‘We must be practical. If you get the opportunity you have to take it. It makes much more sense to tell the police what’s happened.’

Simone nodded.

Several hours elapsed before Stroud returned. The effects of Macandrew's earlier painkillers had worn off and he was starting to run a fever. There was a persistent thin film of sweat on his face. The pain had largely put a stop to conversation with Simone and he was staring up at the ceiling, trying not to think about it when Stroud came into the room.

'My colleague has agreed to your coming with us,' said Stroud.

'Where?' asked Simone.

'That needn’t concern you. You will pick up the package and then we can be on our way. When you’ve synthesised the chemical, both of you will be released. Let’s get started.'

Macandrew and Simone knew that any talk of release was nonsense but they had achieved their immediate objective. They were to be kept alive for the time being. For the moment they were satisfied with that.

'Come,' said Stroud, holding the door for Simone.

Simone did not move. 'I will do nothing until my friend has had his dressing changed. He also needs antibiotics and something for the pain.' She said it with her back to Stroud so that he couldn’t see that she was biting her lip with nerves.

‘
You are in no position to . . .’

'That's the deal,' said Simone.’ She sounded calm but Macandrew could see that her hands were trembling.

'I don't have any dressings,' said Stroud.

Simone turned to face him. 'There must be something,' she insisted. 'Clean sheets, a pillowslip?'

'If you are so concerned, you can do it,' said Stroud. 'And I don't have any antibiotics.'

'Then get some!'

There was silence as Stroud and Simone stared each other out.

'We’ll call in at a pharmacy after we have picked up your package,' said Stroud.

Simone felt a flood of relief. It threatened to make her a little unsteady on her feet but her gamble had paid off. Macandrew squeezed her hand in acknowledgement.

'He needs painkillers now,' said Simone as Stroud turned away.

Without looking round Stroud said simply, 'I'll get him something.'

Macandrew looked at Simone and nodded his thanks. The pain was too bad to permit a smile.

'Try to take it easy, Mac,' whispered Simone. 'You're going to be all right.'

The fat man brought through a clean cotton pillowslip and a bottle of green disinfectant solution.

'I'll need hot water and soap too,' said Simone. The man left and came back with a bowl of warm water, a towel and a bar of carbolic soap. He put them down on the floor. Stroud followed, holding a syringe up in front of him as he expelled residual air. Without saying anything, he pushed up the sleeve on Macandrew's right arm and injected the contents of the syringe.

Macandrew felt an immediate warm glow spread throughout his body, releasing him from the pain that had been building up an ever-tightening web around him. He felt as if the sun had come out from behind a dark cloud on a cold day to bathe him in warm sunshine. 'Christ!' he murmured softly as his tensed-up muscles started to relax in unison.

Simone smoothed his damp hair back from his forehead and smiled as she saw his drawn expression relax. Stroud left the room and she started to unwind the dirty bandage. 'This may still hurt,' she said.