The Fall: Illustrated Edition (An Anna Kronberg Thriller Book 2) (7 page)

‘Very well. I believe you require a little background on strategics and warfare in general?’

‘How can I be certain my father is treated well?’ I interrupted.

‘I give you my word that he is.’

My short laugh brought the rage back into his face. ‘You question the word of a gentleman?’ he asked.

‘Certainly.’

‘I do not care the least whether you believe me or not.’

‘I think you do,’ I said.

‘You give yourself too much credit.’

‘If I had reason to believe that you tortured or even murdered my father, I would do the same to you.’

‘I would not give you an opportunity.’

‘I would find one.’

His eyes darkened. ‘You would die trying.’

‘I am aware of that.’

‘You just told me that you lied.’

I pulled up my eyebrows.

‘A few days ago you tried to make me believe that you wanted to cooperate with me, and now you tell me you want to kill me.’

‘Of course I do! Can you not comprehend that my father is dear to me? That he is more precious to me than my life or career?’ A cold smile adorned his face and I added quietly, ‘Can you not imagine that the men funding your research into germ warfare would be interested in employing me, once you were dead?’
 

At the time of the Club, Moriarty’s research had been paid by several wealthy men. Holmes had arrested them together with all medical doctors who had experimented, on paupers, with dangerous diseases. It was only logical that even now, Moriarty had more than only his private funds to pay for bacterial weapons.
 

‘You are playing a dangerous game, my dear-’

‘
You
started it. I would happily do what you ask if you were not treating me like your prisoner. By holding my father hostage, you are making me your enemy. This wasn’t even necessary! You could have simply come to the Downs and asked me.’

‘You lie. You were hiding from me.’

‘I hid from the police and from the man who rejected me. I felt unable to live in London with Sherlock Holmes all over the papers and the Yard searching for Anton Kronberg. Now tell me, how could I have possibly known you even existed?’
 

I was amazed at how easily I could throw such private matters at him. But it served the lie neatly.

‘So you ask me to trust you?’ His voice was sharp with irony.

‘I don’t know. What does trust mean, anyway? You trust I am a skilled enough bacteriologist to control the plague for you. I wished you wouldn’t. At the same time you don’t trust me to work for you of my own free will, which ultimately leads you to take drastic measures. But holding my father and myself hostage only damages a fruitful cooperation.’

He considered that and answered, ‘He shall write a letter to you. I do hope he can write?’

I noticed he used one issue to avoid the other. The seed of doubt had been planted. ‘I want to see him,’ I said softly.

‘Impossible!’

‘How am I to know you have not made him write a letter before you killed him?’

‘Enough!’ he barked, slamming a fist on the desk. ‘You write a letter to your father, ask him questions that I could not have foreseen. He will answer you and you will know that he is alive.’

‘You have someone who speaks German,’ I said. Moriarty nodded once.

I gestured agreement and the end of this discussion, thinking how interesting it was that he had made an effort. Finding someone whom he can trust, and who is able to communicate with the hostage, could not have been easy. I had expected that he would engage an interpreter once my first letter was written. After all, neither of his prisoners could be allowed to communicate without interception. That he already had someone stunned me.

Moriarty placed both hands on the desk and gazed at them for a moment before pushing himself up. He folded them behind his back and started pacing the room.

‘Very well then. Needless to say that whatever we discuss here is not to leave this room.’ He threw me a sideways glance.

‘Naturally.’

‘Britain is developing a motorised war car — a machine-driven carriage. It is bulletproof and its caterpillar tracks enable it to run on any ground, no matter how muddy and irregular. It has three main disadvantages, though: it is exceedingly expensive, transporting it is bothersome, and it is very hard to manoeuvre. Another weapon of great interest is gas. You have probably heard of the 1874 Brussels Convention on the Law and Customs of War prohibiting the use of poison bullets. And this is where it gets rather amusing.’ He held up his index finger. ‘France, Germany, and Britain are actively involved in the development of xylyl bromide grenades.’ He noticed my slightly clueless expression. ‘Tear-gas,’ he explained.

Britain’s motorised war car, 1902. (4)

‘The art of war is changing, Dr Kronberg. Where men slaughtered men with swords and bayonets, countless more will be killed with weapons of yet unimaginably broad impact. Gas will crawl over battlefields to bring terror to man and beast. The Kaiser has been aiming at conflict for months now, he might even be pushing for war. We need to be prepared, or we will be overrun.’

For a second I had the ridiculous vision of children playing war in the slums, where the one with the biggest stick or the burliest friend was king. ‘I see,’ I said, leaning back in the chair and staring at the ceiling. The ensuing silence felt heavy; he neither moved nor spoke. I pictured him staring at me, unsure whether I was contemplating the discussion or ignoring him.

‘I think you are looking at the problem from the wrong angle,’ I said, focusing back on him. ‘You see how big the threat is and naturally want your threat to be even bigger. The most terrible weapon would certainly be the bubonic plague, so this is what you choose. However, I believe we must select what is most useful. And that is not necessarily the most threatening weapon we can think of, but rather one we can handle.’

‘I will not tolerate your subversive attitude much longer-’

Impatient with his rapid onsets of rage, I snarled, ‘How do you plan to teach fleas and rats to go only to the south, instead of the north? Both are vectors of the plague. Do you intend to
train
them?’

This was obviously more resistance then he had expected. His face grew pale. His jaws worked.

‘Let me finish, please,’ I said and he jerked his chin down once. ‘Correct me if I’m mistaken. Despite the technological advancements you mentioned, and the novel machinery that could possibly be used to deploy germs, a potential war would still be fought mostly by thousands of soldiers, horses, and mules, all of which represent targets for the weapons we will develop.’ He nodded and went back to sit at his chair.

‘Are we talking about a specific war, Professor? What I mean is, do you know for certain that there will be a war in the very near future?’

‘As I already said, the German Empire seeks conflict. As do others, Transvaal and the Orange Free State for instance. The beginning of a war is like tipping a scale. One can predict the collapse of the balance precisely when one grain too many has hit the bowl. Which might be the instant the first shot is fired.’

‘Very well. I will speak in purely hypothetical terms,’ I said. ‘What we want, then, are two diseases. One that brings down equines and one that kills men. Both have to be spread among the enemy fast enough to give us a chance to win a battle, but slow enough to allow the disease to spread between groups of soldiers and horses.’ His back stiffened in attention. ‘What if, after great effort, we can bring one man behind enemy lines to infect one battalion and the disease is so extremely aggressive that the entire unit is dead before the germs had a chance to spread to neighbouring units?’

Slowly, he leaned back again.

‘In warfare, gas might seem like a great idea at first,’ I continued, ‘but what if the wind turns? In germ warfare, we face the same problem. What if infected rats, fleas, people, horses, wind, or water are not behaving as we planned? This is a serious issue we have to consider.’ I kept saying
we,
in hopes he would notice and get used to it. Let it be a fact that this was cooperation and not slavery.

He searched my face. The silence between us felt very loud. I heard my heart thumping and my breath quivering as his gaze flickered between observant and cast inward.

‘What do you recommend?’ His voice carried a warning. I had to convince him now.

‘I will learn all there is to learn about the history of germ warfare — what has been successful, and what was a disaster. Spreading the plague would certainly belong to the latter category.’ I saw his expression harden and jumped up from my seat. ‘I would
never
use the plague, Professor Moriarty. I don’t believe my father would want to live if, for his sake, millions of innocent people would have to die because his daughter spread the Black Death across Europe.’

I did not look at him. There was no need to augment the impression that he would lose this debate. I paced the room, hands on my back, mirroring his earlier attitude.

‘It has to be a germ that can be handled by untrained men. Something that is safe enough in a small container, even if that container breaks. We need a germ which, in its transportable form, must be injected, ingested, or inhaled in large amounts to cause an infection. But once there is a diseased individual harbouring the active form of this germ, it must be highly infectious. Yet, it should not be too aggressive, so as not to kill before it can spread.’

I turned and looked at him. His face that had been open with interest closed shut as soon as our eyes met. I walked over to my chair and sat down, waiting for a response.

‘You have a particular germ in mind.’

‘Maybe,’ I said reluctantly. Noticing his seething impatience I added, ‘Glanders and anthrax.’

‘Why these?’

‘Glanders germs are fairly easy to isolate and can be added to fodder. Infected animals usually die within two weeks; the disease is transmitted by physical contact. It can infect men, too. It is a nasty enough disease and under unhygienic conditions it spreads like fire. Anthrax is a bacillus I studied in Robert Koch’s laboratory in Berlin. It has one great advantage—it produces spores.’

He frowned at that and I explained, ‘It is a very recent discovery. Spores are like eggs that hardly ever lose their ability to hatch. These spores can be stored as a powder in large amounts for many years. When inhaled, the lungs will be infected after a day or two. Another week and the man will most likely be dead. One can add anthrax spores to food, clothing, air, or water. This one is much more dangerous than glanders and close to being as terrible as the plague, but is relatively easy to control.’

‘Very well,’ Moriarty said absentmindedly. ‘Very well.’

I waited while he inspected the tips of his fingers pressed together, his hands forming a cage.

‘I will consider it,’ he said finally and waved me away.

Wrapped in my blanket I cowered at the door, head against the wall, one ear listening to Durham, while my mind was busy. The bubonic plague would have been an uncontrollable and immediate danger if I had agreed to isolate its germs. The thought of growing large batches of these organisms right in the middle of London was terrifying. The risk of transmission was high. Especially in a hospital with all the comings and goings, with prolific rat and flea populations, it would take only days for the plague to sneak out of our laboratory. Suggesting glanders and anthrax was a foul compromise, but I could see no alternative. He wanted deadly diseases, and I had to supply them. The only improvement was that these germs could be controlled and would not accidentally kill hospital staff or patients. At least not so long as I was the bacteriologist and had any say in the matter of conducting isolation and growth experiments.
 

I wondered whether France and Germany were considering bacterial weapons. After all, Louis Pasteur and Robert Koch had been working on deadly disease for years. With tear gas and modern war machinery to deploy grenades, germ warfare would be but a small step further. It was only a question of who would be the first to lift a foot and dare to stick it into the dangerous soup of pathogens.