Free The Chosen Dead (Jenny Cooper 5) by M. R. Hall Page B

ever known; for him to express concern there had to be a serious problem.
    It was some minutes before Dr Kerr came through the door, carrying the strong chemical smell of the antiseptic with which he would have doused himself after the procedure.
    ‘Sorry about that. Takes a while to climb out of all the kit.’
    ‘Those were some serious precautions,’ Jenny said.
    ‘Very necessary, I’m afraid.’ His voice had lost its usual wry edge. ‘I was just going to call you. I wasn’t sure you’d been notified.’
    ‘I got word last night. The girl’s father is a colleague of my ex-husband’s.’
    ‘Mr Freeman. Of course. You knew Sophie?’
    ‘No, not really.’ It was partly true: they hadn’t spoken since her divorce. ‘Have you established a cause of death?’
    ‘It was meningitis.’
    She felt oddly relieved. ‘My ex-husband implied there was concern it was something more sinister.’
    Dr Kerr walked past her to his chair on the far side of the desk. Jenny noticed his eyes were bloodshot with fatigue. She could tell he had hardly slept.
    ‘That’s not an unreasonable word to use. According to her notes, from the onset of symptoms to death was only a little over eight hours. That’s remarkably quick in an otherwise healthy child. And one would certainly expect bacterial meningitis to respond to antibiotic treatment in some degree, but it seems that the drugs had no effect at all. The physicians certainly threw everything at it.’
    ‘I’m no expert, but I do know that meningitis is often fatal,’ Jenny said, hoping for some words of reassurance.
    ‘The lab started work yesterday afternoon, while Sophie was still alive,’ Dr Kerr said. ‘The aim was to identify the precise strain and work out the most effective drug regime. You may not know this, but the meningitis bacterium coats itself with a protein that prevents immune cells from attacking it. It’s very clever: a Trojan Horse, if you like. I’ve even heard an immunologist call it beautiful.’
    ‘Not a word I’d use.’
    ‘Nor me.’ He reached for his computer mouse and opened an email from colleagues in the path’ lab. It confirmed his suspicion. ‘They’re telling me none of the samples cultured have responded to any drug combinations. Cephalosporin, vancomycin, ampicillin – nothing’s worked. Of course it’s too early to say with certainty, but the concern is we’re dealing with an aggressive, drug-resistant strain.’
    ‘ “Aggressive” meaning what, precisely?’
    ‘One of the major symptoms of this strain is disseminated intravascular coagulation – it means the blood clots excessively, which perversely causes multiple haemorrhages. All the girl’s major organs were affected – liver, kidneys, brain. She had also developed grotesque swelling and gangrene in her limbs. It means either that the bacteria multiplied at an unprecedented rate, or that she remained asymptomatic until the disease was already far advanced. Neither possibility is particularly reassuring.’
    ‘But we’ve only seen this one case?’
    ‘So far.’
    Jenny thought about what David had told her – his fear of drug-resistant organisms finding their way into the hospital through foreign patients.
    ‘Do you have any idea where she might have caught it? Wouldn’t you expect to see a cluster?’
    ‘Every outbreak has to start somewhere, Mrs Cooper. One of the mysteries of infectious disease is why we see a sudden flare-up then a die-off for no apparent reason. Many of us carry meningitis bacteria in our bodies benignly. The process of activation and mutation is little understood.’
    ‘But Sophie might have caught it from someone else.’
    ‘It would be foolish not to expect more cases.’
    ‘And the body – is it safe?’
    ‘As much as it can be. It’s stored in a biohazard body bag. My concern is far more for those who have been in immediate contact with her. I’m sure the Health Protection Agency is taking the appropriate steps.’ He gave an