At the River View Hotel, trust had slowly taken over from the suspicion of earlier.
Guy Williams was now barely looking at Jan De Jonge, but he was nodding frantically at me, as if I’d injected a long overdue sense of commercial reality into his life.
I asked questions about David Solomon, trying to understand his personality, and Guy then asked where I thought he might be.
I told him Thailand seemed likely and Jan agreed. Solomon liked Thailand. He went backpacking in Thailand when he was younger and still had a Thai girlfriend. “Her name was Pim,” Jan said. Pim was half Thai and half English and a lecturer in microbiology and biotechnology. It was a very useful lead and something else to work on.
In three hours, we’d moved from distrust to mutual understanding and an agreement that they’d carry on as normal for the time being, stay in touch, and see what happened. Jan de Jonge, in particular, was willing to do anything to help.
We’d exchanged phone numbers, and I’d ordered my last coffee as a prelude to returning to Cairo when I saw a man with a thick beard walk through the hotel foyer towards the reception desk. I’d seen him earlier during my stake out in the car. He had arrived with the Pakistanis, but his attitude suggested he was in charge. Since the morning, he’d changed into grey trousers and a blue shirt, but the grey beard was the giveaway.
“How good are your Pakistani engineers?” I asked.
Guy Williams laughed and Jan de Jonge shook his head. “I have to tell them everything,” he said. “What screw to put where, which way round a filter goes? Fortunately, the equipment comes partially assembled. Otherwise, we’d struggle.”
“Who appointed them?”
“Al Zafar. We got an email from someone called Ahmed in Jordan, saying they were on their way.”
I pointed towards reception “Is that one of them?”
“Yes,” Philippe said. “It’s Rahim.”
The man clearly had clearly seen us. He walked to the main entrance, took a phone from his shirt pocket and went towards the car park with it clamped to his ear. I felt a sudden sense of unease. Not all the Pakistanis were engineers. If you’re running a dodgy business, you need one or two spies working inside.
I met heavy traffic as I drove back into Cairo and had come to a complete halt when my phone bleeped with a message from Colin:
“Phone me ASAP.”
Colin had just had another call from Jimmy.
The bad news was that Jimmy’s job as deputy cleaner to Lucky was over. Lucky’s luck had run out, and he’d been made redundant. The good news was that Jimmy had moved into his brother’s house close to the Shah factory and could now watch the comings and goings from his bed.
Other bad news was that Luther Jasman had also been given notice to quit but with two days’ notice. The whole place, as it seemed, was winding down or going over to a different function. The good news was that night security had been reduced to movement-sensitive lighting only.
“Now then,” Colin said after I’d digested that. “Listen carefully.
Jimmy met his friend Jomo, the salesman, again. Jomo then spoke to Luther Jasman to commiserate, and they agreed to meet for coffee.
Following it so far?”
“Yes,” I said as three trucks carrying camels drove passed slowly.
“Jimmy then arrived, so say unexpectantly, to join Jomo and Jasman for coffee and to admit to Jasman that he was, in fact, a private investigator and that Jasman should consider his redundancy as a stroke of luck because Shah Medicals was under investigation for all sorts of illegal activities.
“But Luther panicked because he’d only just got married and had responsibilities, but Jimmy told him not to worry, and that he and his new wife would be perfectly safe if they moved to Mombasa for a few days. Jimmy would pay his train ticket, and even find accommodation for the couple with his auntie Bahati who runs a bed and breakfast place on the beach.” Colin paused. “Still following it, Jinx?”
“Keep going,” I said as someone tried to sell me donuts through the window.
“The downside to Jimmy’s offer was that Luther Jasman needed thelp Jimmy by stealing a set of keys.” Colin paused again. “Do you realise I’m only giving you a short summary, Jinx, don’t you? Jimmy was on the phone for an hour.”
“Keep going,” I said.
“Net result? Jimmy broke in last night.”
The traffic was moving at last - an accident or something. “What did he find?” I asked.
“A stack of empty boxes labelled ‘Breath Easy’. It’s a brand of asthma inhaler. Another stack of boxes marked ‘Ampoules’ in black marker on the outside but with thousands of unlabelled glass ampoules containing a clear fluid on the inside. You want me to continue?”
“Keep going.”
“He also found a stack of boxes containing what Jimmy described as tiny aluminium cylinders the size of cigarette lighters.” Colin paused again. “And you’ll love this, Jinx. The boxes had labels on, saying,
‘Virus – Malthus Type A’.
“Jimmy took photos, retaped the boxes, and said they looked as good as new. He was in bed by 4:00 a.m. but wants to go back again tomorrow night to look in Dominique Lunneau’s office.”
Back in my hotel, I called Nagi, but played down what I’d found at Beni Suef.
“I’ve decided to move on,” I said. “But thank Maria for me. She’s a natural. If she’s interested in more work, tell her to call Colin.”
I didn’t tell him I’d decided to move on to Nairobi. The fact was that Jimmy worried me. Enthusiasm can get out of control if there’s no one there to temper it with a little caution. Over enthusiasm is very dangerous. Over enthusiasm for something that failed is why Colin calls me Jinx.
“I’ll head there tomorrow,” I said.
Then I recounted my day. Finally, I said, “I’ve got another job for you, Colin. Check out the National Science and Technology Centre at Thammasat University in Bangkok and see if you can find a lecturer in microbiology and biotechnology. Her name is Pim. That’s all I know. I need emails, phone numbers, anything. I think she might be David Solomon’s girlfriend.”
“How’s your own girlfriend?”
I didn’t reply but laughed as if it didn’t matter.