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idea behind it? Fighting the next SARS type virus?”

“Must be, and the significant thing is that the Chinese seem to have agreed to an exchange of researchers with other countries to strengthen co-operation if and when it happens.”

“Let’s hope it’s if not when.”

“The Gates Foundation and WHO disagree with you, Jack … according to them the world is due a global pandemic in the next 10 to 20 years.”

“Where is the catch in all this?”

“I don’t know. It’s been hard enough to get as much information as that.”

Jack sensed a shadow looming over where he sat. He lifted his head. Steve Harris was standing next to him.

“Thanks, Laurie … if you could …”

“I know, keep digging.”

Jack stood up and shook hands with Harris.

“Bad news?”

“Not sure … call me a cynic, but I’m always wary of news that sounds too good to be true.”

* * *

Rob’s contact at the NCA was going through his files. Pole could hear the distinct click of a computer mouse moving documents around a screen, looking for answers.

“Afghanistan produces 95% of all European opium-based drug supplies. So, you need to be a lot more precise. Your lab should be able to give you an idea of the province it comes from … poppy production from each area has specific characteristics. If the drug is of such good quality as you say it is, it won’t have too many additives, so the identification should be easier.”

“Have you seized any substantial shipments recently? Anything noticeable from the Russian side?”

“We’ve had a couple of good hits, but not on the Russian mafia. A Lithuanian gang has been partially dismantled and a German gang, originating from East Germany, has lost a lot of its members.”

“East Germany? You still make that distinction?”

“It helps where gang members are concerned.”

“Could there be a link to Russia?”

“That’s a possibility. There was nothing indicating that when we intercepted the guys, but that was not what we were looking for.”

“What was the origin of the drugs they were importing? Did you find out?”

“We systematically analysed the drug we picked up before destroying it so that we can trace the area of the supplies.”

More clicking on the other end of the phone … Pole was taking notes of his own.

“The heroin came from the Herat region. That’s not a usual provenance. Poppy cultivation there is not intense. Helmand province is the most prolific …”

“Any reason why the Herat province?” Pole kept typing.

“It’s a good quality production and the land on which it is farmed is near the Turkmenistan border.”

“In short, easy to export.”

“That’s right.”

“What’s the route from Turkmenistan?”

“Across the Caspian Sea, into Georgia … across the Black Sea, and into Europe through Romania.”

“A well known route?”

“Well known but difficult to close … the local police don’t have enough resources and the drug traffickers are often better equipped than they are.”

“Without forgetting the usual bribes and blackmail.”

“That’s the sum of it.”

“Any chance you can send me the exact molecular composition of what you lifted from the East German traffickers? It might …” Pole’s sentence was interrupted by the sight of a uniform that had stopped short of entering his office. The bulky frame of Commander Ferguson was waiting to enter, his face drawn and dark.

“Apologies … I’m going to have to go. Do you mind emailing me the rest of the info?”

Pole hardly heard the other man’s reply. He thanked him anyway and hung up.

“What’s up, Ferguson?” Pole stood up. Ferguson came in and closed the door.

“My team and I have been reviewing the data your DS sent us.”

“Good, and he told me he had also sent some information about mobiles and associated usage in and around Scotland Yard.”

“We extended the search a little wider.”

Ferguson removed a pile of documents from the chair in front of Pole’s desk, and sat down, his chunky body filling it.

Pole sat down again and nodded his approval.

Ferguson took a piece of paper out of a file he was carrying with him. A list of numbers and locations had been compiled, together with relevant dates and times.

One line had been highlighted in red and the location of where the burner phone had been activated circled several times, also in red.

Islington – Rosebury Avenue – 173 New Riverhead … Nancy’s address.

* * *

“This is all I have.” Cora handed over a thick A4 envelope to Nancy. They were sitting in the little café opposite her flat. DS Branning had agreed to cut the ladies some slack. He stood outside the little food shop, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of tea at the table outside. Branning had wrapped his scarf twice around his neck, a sign the weather was getting colder. Nancy wondered whether a winter coat might not be more efficient.

Branning had been convinced when Nancy asked for privacy to discuss female issues. At first he looked at her rather blankly. Then he nodded slowly. Perhaps it was best not to be too inquisitive about which female issues Nancy had in mind. The sun had been kind enough to show its faint rays at the right moment. Here they were Branning on the outside and the ladies in the inside.

Nancy took the envelope and placed the documents cautiously in her lap. The research papers she would read later, but Jared Turner’s schedule was immediately intriguing.

There had been a clear increase in the frequency of travels to China. First Hong Kong, then mainland China and then always Beijing. The Beijing address seemed at first obscure, but when Nancy typed it into her iPhone the organisation that resided there came up immediately.

The National Institute of Biological Sciences, a strategic Chinese government initiative, according to its website. It housed over 500 scientists working on life science related issues. Nancy sat back in the small wooden chair and looked around the café as she digested this information.

The owner of the café came up with the offer of a top up. Cora nodded and Nancy smiled. Nothing better than a good old-fashioned cup of builder’s tea to

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