After the Truth (Book One)

Four

I spent the rest of that day in a series of meetings with William and other members of the Canadian Public Health Agency. Their key concern was, as expected, trying to understand the risk of infection and a cluster of cases forming. Evelyn and I gave assurance after assurance that in all previous incidents we had investigated, each case had been isolated and there was no clustering.

It was a contradictory frustration in the investigation at that stage: A cluster could indicate the method of transmission from one victim to another. But, as we explained several times, all we had were separate, unconnected victims scattered across the globe, with no discernible pattern. We had gone back years for some of the victims but had not come close to finding any common genetic, location, activity, or other normal connection they might share.

In the evening, Albert deposited Evelyn and I back at our hotel.

'Since we are flying back to Geneva tomorrow,' Evelyn said as we walked through reception, 'do you want to go out and see some of Montreal tonight?'

'We're not on holiday.'

'You know me, it seems such a waste to fly into a city just to scare the local health authorities and then fly back home without taking in some sort of local flavour. What is the point of flying all over the world if we never see anything other than hotels and hospitals?'

In so many ways I loved to travel with Evelyn. Her positive outlook on life was infectious and she made all the traipsing through one airport after another more pleasant.

'I have a fantastic view of Montreal from my room,' she said playfully. 'Come up and see it. Let it inspire you and then I know you will want go out somewhere,' she added with a mischievous smile.

There were horrible downsides to travelling with Evelyn as well.

'Don't look at me like that,' she said. 'All I am saying is come up to my room to look at the view. That's all.'

When we got to her room, I was shocked.

'You've got a suite!' I blurted out when she beckoned me inside. 'I've got a standard double and it's only just big enough for me and my luggage.'

I was not completely surprised Evelyn had got a room upgrade, but I was shocked she had managed a full suite.

'What did you say this time?' I asked as she pressed a button to raise the blinds on the giant picture window, revealing the St Lawrence River and the heart of Montreal beyond. Evelyn could lie with effortless ease and often managed to coerce upgrades on hotels rooms or flights.

'The truth of course,' she said.

'Well almost,' she added as she kicked off her shoes and padded over to the minibar. 'I said I was in town for several important meetings with high ranking city officials and I might need to hold gatherings in my room. I hinted to the manager it would not be good for officials visiting his hotel to be crammed into a standard double.'

'One of these days you will get into trouble for your economical use of the truth,' I said with little conviction as I stared at the very impressive view.

'There is no harm in trying it on, Joshua. If I fail, I don't get upset. It's just a game. It is always worth a try and when you get lucky and get something like this, I forget the failures.'

'Let's hope we don't have a failure with the diagnosis of DDD,' I said absentmindedly, still mesmerised by the view.

'So, can I tempt you?' Evelyn said, running her finger around the rim of a wine glass.

'You're a naughty girl,' I said, 'but no, not tonight. I'm tired from all our meetings today, and I know I won't sleep on the flight back. Also, I have some phone calls I want to make before I go to bed.'

With that I left Evelyn to her suite and cityscape view and headed down three floors to my claustrophobic feeling double room. I skimmed the room service menu and phoned down my order. I then decided to grab a quick shower while I waited for my penne carbonara to arrive.

As I undressed, I idly watched a TV news story about a US senator accused of fraud in a company he used to own. The fraud had happened two years prior to him getting elected and two other directors were already serving time. There had long been accusations the senator knew what was going on, but he had always fervently refuted all the rumours as fake news perpetuated by political rivals. Even when email evidence implicating him came to light, he still denounced his involvement as slanderous lies. A particularly damaging email even seemed to indicate he had been one of the initial members of the company board to authorise the fraudulent activity.

A trial case had been brought and the news programme was breaking the dramatic events of how the senator, in just the second day of his trial, had changed his plea to guilty.

The leader of the Senator's party was being interviewed and giving his positive reaction to the story. 'The senator has taken a right and decisive course of action in the trial,' the leader said to the reporter. 'It is good for the party and the senator he has responded the way he has today. It will allow a line to be drawn under these sad events that have so tragically plagued him for years.'

I wondered how many other people thought like I did and realised the senator took decisive action only when he couldn't lie anymore.

In the shower I stood directly under the jet of water as I thought through the lack of results we were having with our investigation. I lifted my face so the water hit me full on, in the hope it might wash away whatever was blocking my thought processes.

No new ideas came to me.

Just as I stepped out of the shower there was a loud knock. I presumed it was room service and, wearing just my robe, I opened the door. Evelyn stood before me.

'Hiro has been trying to get hold of you. He doesn't want us to go back to Geneva, he wants us to fly to Rio instead,' she said quickly and brushed past me into the room.

Having relaxed in the shower it took a few moments for my mind to rev up again to take in what she was saying.

'Has there been a case reported in Brazil?' I asked.

'Yes. Hiro only has vague information about the exact nature of the situation, but said we would be met at the airport by a Capitão Cavalcanti of the Policia Federal.'

'Federal Police?' I said, drying my hair, 'Why them? Do you know anything about the victim?'

'From the little information Hiro had I can answer all three of your questions: The victim is a priest.'

I sat down slowly on the bed. Randomly my thoughts touched on the crucifix in Martin Bradmore's home.

'There is a bonus too,' Evelyn said as she took the small desk chair opposite where I sat. 'The priest's moment of death was caught on security cameras.

'We'll be able to see him die?' I said as I mulled over the prospect.

As macabre as it was, the thought of being able to view the death of this victim excited me. Did he grab his chest? Did he choke? Did he put his hand to his head? Did part of his body go limp? Did he become disoriented? Any of those actions might point to some physiological reason we had so far missed for the cause of death.

This case so close to that of Martin Bradmore's also sparked a concern. Was the rate of infection increasing?