Fatal Impact (14 page)

‘We’ll bring up health concerns about pesticides. That always gets attention, particularly for pregnant women and babies. Then we’ll shift the focus to the overall health benefits of organic foods.’

Anya felt increasingly ill at ease listening to the conversation. It disturbed her that the people most affected apart from Len were not even considered important enough to mention. ‘I’m sorry. Can we spend a moment acknowledging who was affected by the bacterial contamination? A ten-year-old girl died after being fed raw foods her mother believed were healthy.’ The image of Emily’s body and Beatrice Quaid’s grief came to mind. ‘An elderly man who prepared his own food died. One of our own relatives is in a critical condition. She was in perfect health until she ate the spinach. Now she’s on kidney dialysis.’

Len’s eyes darted to Jocelyn and back to Anya. ‘I had no idea. I wish I–’

‘No point dwelling on what could or should have been,’ Jocelyn instructed. ‘Anya is right. There are numerous people in hospitals fighting for their lives as we speak. This has to be about more than just damage control. What about prevention and making sure other crops don’t get infected? At least turn this into something worth fighting for. Something Len has fought for all along.’

Anya pointed out, ‘You’ll have an even bigger problem if the missing mother and three-year-old are infected too.’

Alison swished hair from her shoulder and lifted her coffee mug. ‘From what I hear, there were concerns about that mother’s competence to look after children. And the elderly gentleman could have been confused and had questionable hygiene.’

‘Are you blaming the victims?’ Anya knocked the table, spilling her drink. Len was quick to wipe it up with a serviette.

‘I can see where this is going but we all have to stay calm,’ Jocelyn intervened. ‘I wanted Anya here for precisely this reason. She’s seen the victims and dealt with the police already.’

Anya wondered if her mother was including, or using her.

Jocelyn’s phone vibrated and she excused herself a moment. Due to the worried expression on the GP’s face, the others waited in silence.

‘First, can you describe the diarrhoea for me?’ Jocelyn’s face soon relaxed. ‘His poo was completely blue and solid? All right, what’s he eaten today?’

Anya felt relief as well.

The questions continued. ‘No blueberries?
. . .
Was he playing with playdough or plasticine yesterday or today?’ Jocelyn nodded knowingly. ‘And what does he look like above the nappy, in himself?
. . .
Drinking his bottle is a very good sign. I think you’ll find he ate some blue playdough and has passed that in his nappy. It’s safe and just goes through kids like food.’

The woman’s voice was audibly apologetic. ‘Never be sorry for being an advocate for your child. If you have any other worries, don’t hesitate to call. It’s what I’m here for.’ She hung up and turned to Alison. ‘People are scared. They’re panicking. And it’s understandable.’

The POWER representative was unfazed. ‘I feel for the families. But this is about something bigger. All of the organic farms are at risk if the public loses confidence in them. Multiple studies have proven that there is no significant difference in the number of E. coli infections from organically grown food compared to non-organic produce.’ She turned to Len. ‘This didn’t occur because you are an organic farmer, and that’s what we have to demonstrate.’

Len dug his fingers into his scalp. ‘I still don’t understand how any of this happened. I want to do what I can for those people and their families. It’s only right. Joss, if I need to sell up to do it–’

‘That is the last thing you want to do,’ Alison interjected. ‘PR 101. Deny, deny, deny, denounce. Do not admit liability until there’s no other choice.’

The woman spoke like a lawyer. Denounce meant blaming the victims. That was her plan.

‘Let’s stick with what we do know. Did you have any advice on the packaging?’

‘Our label recommends washing before use. And we spray everything with water prior to packing.’

Jocelyn asked, ‘Is there a chance that small amounts of bacteria survive on the leaves in spite of spraying and washing?’

Len conceded, ‘It’s impossible to scrub between every nook and cranny on anything with leaves.’

Anya thought of Jenny Quaid. Being illiterate, she couldn’t have read a warning label on anything.

‘You spray and wash the food. Good,’ Alison reasoned.
‘I suggest we run an old-fashioned campaign showing grandparents teaching grandchildren about how to grow REAL food, that sort of thing. The current affairs shows lap all that up when you have images of fast food that won’t decompose and how kids today can’t name vegetables and don’t know where their food comes from. Your image needs rehabilitation, and that’s a great way to do it. Or .
. .’

‘What?’ Len’s eyes darted to Jocelyn, who was shifting in her seat.

‘The ultimate damage control,’ Alison suggested, ‘You close the business and start up under a new name. Take a lower public profile yourself, The general public has short memories so you wouldn’t have to lay low for too long. We could do focus groups to help you re-establish your return to the limelight.’

‘Excuse me, I need some air.’ Anya pushed back her chair and left the room.

Jocelyn followed her to the door. ‘I don’t like what she’s saying any more than you do,’ she said. ‘It’s like a game to that woman.’

‘How can you stay then and be a part of this plan to sully the names of those poor people?’ Anya wanted to know.

‘Because Len is my friend. And there’s a question we haven’t answered for those people. We don’t know how this bacteria got into the crop. You said it was a rare type. Is it a mutation? Did you know that PT, the company bordering Len’s property, is involved in genetic modification? The head of that company, Graham Fowler, was in the meeting with Moss, remember? Why would he have been there if he has nothing to do with any of this?’

‘What are you suggesting? Please don’t say it’s a conspiracy.’

‘The whole thing’s rotten. I don’t know how yet but I’m convinced Len’s been set up.’

21

A
nya could not believe her mother had bought into Len Dengate’s conspiracy theories.

‘Len is paranoid, and quite possibly unstable.’ She thought about all the electronic surveillance in the house, on the shed. That’s how he had seen the police and health inspectors arrive at the factory. He had probably been watching her talk to Grace as well.

‘He has every right to be concerned.’

‘If someone had contaminated his crop, don’t you think one of those spy cameras would have picked it up?’

Jocelyn stood, hands on hips. ‘There’s so much you aren’t seeing.’

‘Mum, I think it’s pretty clear.’

Len appeared, moved past them and opened the front door. A minute later, Grace and Samir Malik came inside. They greeted Anya and Jocelyn and went to meet Alison.

‘Please. Stay,’ Jocelyn pleaded. ‘If you still want to go in half an hour, I’ll take you home.’

Anya stood, undecided. ‘This damage control and discrediting people is wrong. Evelyn is one of the people that woman wants to malign.’

‘Evie is one of the reasons I’m doing this.’ Jocelyn’s eyes were determined. She tightly clasped Anya’s hands between her own. ‘Len is too involved. I can’t solve this on my own.’

Anya shook her head. ‘What if there is nothing to solve? No conspiracy?’

Jocelyn released Anya. ‘If you look at the evidence and that’s what you conclude, I’ll accept that.’ She placed her hands on Anya’s shoulders and locked eyes with her. ‘You are the brightest, most ethical person I know. I’m asking you to help me. For a day or two.’

Part of Anya was touched by the compliment. The other wondered if her mother had another agenda. She wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Staying a couple of days was not too onerous and the source of Emily Quaid’s infection remained unclear. She owed it to Beatrice Quaid to finish the job she had started.

‘I’ll let my assistant know tomorrow.’

Jocelyn clapped her hands. ‘Let’s get to it.’

In the dining room, Alison was discussing a corporate structure of some sort while Len served supper. ‘It always concerns us when a group like the Chinese consortium buys up big sections of land in foreign countries. This isn’t the only location they’ve targeted.’ She selected a series of papers and maps from her files. ‘They trade under a number of names, usually friendly to each specific country. For example, here they go by the name Pure Tasmania, or PT. Their slogan is, “Nature’s Finest Produce”.’

Anya had seen their products in Sydney supermarkets, and admitted to herself that she’d bought them because she had assumed the company was Australian and providing locals jobs.

‘The parent company is Clarkson Evergreen, which is consistently voted one of the top five evil companies in the world.’

Alison let that sink in. Len took the lid off a Tupperware container full of biscuits.

‘All the profits go overseas,’ Alison continued. ‘These companies manage to pay very little tax as well. They’re notorious for employing transient workforces for harvesting and paying them considerably less than union rates.’

‘How are they legally able to do that?’ Anya knew of the mining industry lobbying government for fly-in, fly-out workers from overseas to fill vacancies and the public outcry it had created at the time.

‘In this state, they lobbied the government that they couldn’t fill the jobs with locals, so obtained exemptions to fly in Chinese workers at peak periods. Regional governments around the world are more often than not very accommodating to the company. They classified this as an area of need.’

‘They feed and house the workers on site.’ Len offered around the plate of biscuits. ‘We were told it would be a boon for local businesses, but extra supplies are shipped in by the company itself.’

Jocelyn added, ‘I’ve seen a couple of workers who’ve been injured at work, but otherwise, they’re pretty invisible to us. Galls me to see our state logo on all the stuff they ship out.’

Samir spoke next. ‘In Sudan we have many problems with soil and erosion, many pests and insects that destroy our fields. The government set up a research facility that collected every species of plants and seeds. We thought, “This is a good thing.” My family grew snake cucumber. It is only found in my country. We were no longer allowed to grow this without paying the research people.’

Anya didn’t follow the logic. ‘Did they impose a levy or a tax on farmers?’

‘No more growing without paying.’ He interlaced his fingers on the table. ‘Now you have to pay for seeds. Every year. My family is ruined.’

Alison drained her cup. ‘The research was funded by Clarkson Evergreen. They took advantage of international laws and patented the indigenous seeds. It’s what they do.’

Anya glanced across at her mother, who had begun to perspire. She could see the pulse in her neck bounding at a rapid rate.

‘Mum, are you all right?’

‘I just feel a little .
. .’
Jocelyn’s eyes rolled back and she tipped to the side. Len caught her.

‘She’s fainting, lie her down.’ Anya remained calm, and was quickly at her mother’s side. Len lifted then lowered Jocelyn gently to the floor. Grace rushed to the sink for a glass of water and a wet cloth.

Alison moved out of their way. ‘Will she be okay?’

Len stroked Jocelyn’s hair as she regained consciousness. ‘You’re right, Joss, just one of your little turns.’

Anya couldn’t believe this had happened before. Fainting wasn’t normal. She felt her mother’s pulse. ‘You need to stop the Thyroxin. You’re tachycardic.’

‘It’s why I didn’t take it.’ Jocelyn tried to sit up.

‘Then why do you have it?’

‘Damn tests said I had an underactive thyroid. I got the script but haven’t got around to starting them.’

Anya thought about her mother’s weight loss and rapid heart rate. Those symptoms were more consistent with an overactive thyroid. The tests could have been wrong.

Her mother took the water from Grace and sipped. Len helped her to sit up and wiped her forehead with the tea towel. He really seemed to care about Jocelyn.

‘And don’t look at me like that, Anya. I hate fuss. It was a simple faint. I obviously haven’t drunk enough fluid today. End of story.’

She pushed everyone away and Len helped her back to the dining chair and sat next to her. ‘You were saying something, Alison?’

The others rejoined them. Grace moved along a seat to allow Anya to sit close to her mother.

‘I was talking about how the company has a team of lawyers around the world looking for loopholes in each country’s patent laws. If they genetically modify a seed, it’s patented. In some cases, they put in a terminator gene so it won’t regerminate and is unusable twice.’

‘Farmers in my country are desperate,’ Samir said. ‘They buy seeds that promise four times the amount of corn or grain and say you do not need to spray with much pesticide. Because the seeds cost ten times more, they must go into debt. The farmers believe they are doing good things.’

Grace reached for her husband’s hand. ‘The insects still come. Then the company that sells the seeds tells farmers they must use their special pesticide. Still the crops fail. My father could not afford to live.’

Her husband took over. ‘Like many other farmers, he became sick. One day, he burnt down his farm. Then he killed himself.’

Anya felt for the woman and the family her father had left behind.

Grace dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

‘Sadly,’ Alison added, ‘this case is not unique. The seeds were considered pesticide resistant. But farmers were always going to have to spray pesticides to kill weeds. The theory is that the resistant crop grows without competition and produces a much larger yield. The company selling the seeds also makes the pesticide and charges a fortune for it.’

‘Grace, do you know why your father burnt the farm?’ Jocelyn gently probed. ‘The crop could have been harvested and sold to pay at least some of the debt.’

‘The soil turned hard and looked like salt. Nothing would grow in it except the expensive seeds, and again, they did not grow like we were promised.’

Instead of finding their way out of poverty, Anya realised, the poor farmers become indentured slaves to this company and had to keep working to pay off their increasing debt. She doubted it was a coincidence that South Sudan was a poor country with a large population and food shortage.

Alison pressed on. ‘In case you’re wondering what this has to do with Len’s business, we’re getting to that. The clever thing about Clarkson Evergreen is how they recruit top businessmen in the countries in which they operate. They have a revolving door of CEOs and board members, who, coincidentally, also rotate through positions heading their nation’s agriculture departments, food and drug administrations or their equivalents.’

Len collected a folder from the centre of the table and extracted a document. ‘They’re major contributors to political campaigns as well. Here’s a copy of an internal email sent from the CEO of PT to Clarkson Evergreen. It reassures the board members that the company’s interests will be well represented, no matter which party wins the forthcoming state election.’

He handed it first to Alison, who reviewed the contents. ‘How did you manage to get this? It’s highly confidential and PT normally takes security very seriously.’

Len lowered his head. ‘I can’t say. Just got lucky.’

Alison glanced around the table as if to verify the source of the email. If anyone knew who had disclosed it, they weren’t admitting it. Anya began to feel uneasy about what Len intended to do with the leaked internal email. Jocelyn had a glazed expression and Anya knew she should take her home soon.

‘I’d love to know your source, it could really help our case,’ the lawyer said.

The discussion was moving completely away from Len’s problems.

‘What case?’ Anya suspected that this supposed good Samaritan and her organisation had their own agenda, and were using Len for some reason to raise their profile and push their own cause. Len needed practical help and advice, not campaigning right now. ‘What does this have to do with defending Len against litigation and charges regarding the food poisonings?’

‘PT is growing genetically modified crops next door to this very property. Two hours ago I assessed Len’s crops with a strip test kit. In the northeast, three out of six samples were positive for GM plants. In the northwest, sixteen out of thirty were positive. If PT has contaminated Len’s land and ruined his business, they’ll be up for enormous damages and the loss of lucrative income. The non-GM premium for Len’s crops is around $40–60 per tonne.’ She placed a hand on her host’s shoulder. ‘Once organic status is lost, it cannot be regained for at least thirty years.’

Grace covered her mouth with her hands, and Samir looked devastated. Len remained unmoved. In some ways, the almost catatonic response was more disturbing than his anger. Anya wondered if there was a possible link between the GM foods and the E. coli infection, but had no idea what it could be.

‘Don’t worry,’ Alison assured. ‘We might not save this farm in its current incarnation, but at least Len won’t face financial ruin. PT will be accountable for their seeds contaminating his crops.’

‘If I’m going down,’ Len finally said, ‘I’m taking those mongrels with me.’