Tangled Web

Nineteen

Gordon saw that Mary was serious and immediately regretted having been so forthcoming. He now felt embarrassed.

‘You can’t possibly believe that a man like Carwyn Thomas is mixed up in something like that,’ said Mary. ‘He’s a national institution — people round here regard him as a saint.’

‘So he has a pretty formidable reputation and he’s at the show-business end of medicine,’ countered Gordon, ‘That doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of us when it comes to self-interest and ambition, quite the reverse I would have said. Successful people tend to be ruthlessly ambitious; that’s largely why they get to be successful in the first place.’

‘There’s a big difference between being ambitious and being some kind of criminal,’ protested Mary. ‘I think you’re letting your imagination run away with you. In fact, if you don’t mind me saying so, don’t you think you’re being just a little obsessive about this whole Palmer thing?’ She accented the words ‘just a little’ to make them sound like ‘a whole lot’.

Gordon rubbed his forehead, betraying growing feelings of vulnerability. The incident involving Lucy and the at least temporary parting of the ways with Julie had brought him close to nervous exhaustion. It was a gesture that reached Mary.

‘Look,’ she said softly, ‘I appreciate that you are absolutely convinced that your friend is innocent and I understand your desire to help him but making wild accusations about respected figures in the medical profession isn’t going to get you anywhere. Apart from anything else, the profession itself will crucify you. You’ll end up practising in Greenland!’

Gordon smiled ruefully and nodded. Mary put a reassuring hand on his. It was a gesture that made his skin tingle and made him realise how much he missed human contact. He looked at Mary, hoping that nothing of what he was thinking would show on his face. ‘I really haven’t been making wild accusations, you know,’ he said. ‘You’re actually the first person I’ve confided in.’

Mary looked puzzled. ‘Why me?’ she asked quietly.

Gordon shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he said, not wanting to weaken his position further by admitting that he found her so attractive. ‘Sympathetic stranger and all that,’ he continued. ‘Maybe the time was right: I needed to tell someone.’

‘I can understand that,’ said Mary. ‘You certainly seem to be all on your own when it comes to the Palmer case and swimming against the tide is never easy. You must have been under a lot of strain over the past few weeks.’

‘Maybe but it hasn’t coloured the way I feel about things though,’ said Gordon, almost defiantly.

Mary smiled at what she saw as the streak of obstinacy in Gordon. She didn’t think it unattractive. ‘You really do believe that the IVF unit is trying to clone a human being, don’t you?’ she said.

‘How else would you interpret what I found in Thomas’s lab?’ Gordon countered.

‘Mary looked thoughtful. ‘I suppose I would expect a man in Professor Thomas’s position to keep up to date with the research literature in his field so I wouldn’t think it odd at all to discover he’d been reading up on factors relevant to human cloning.’

‘What about Caernarfon’s poorer than average success figures for the birth of ICSI babies?’

‘I don’t know,’ confessed Mary. ‘But that doesn’t automatically mean that someone is putting donor DNA into patients’ ova instead of sperm,’ she added. ‘The failure-rate could be down to a lot of things; you said so yourself.’

‘I did,’ said Gordon, ‘And I’m not suggesting for one moment that, taken on its own, it proves anything one way or the other, but when everything is taken into consideration, I’m convinced that something illegal has been going on in Thomas’s unit. He did have Anne-Marie Palmer’s notes in his lab, remember? Just hers, no other patient’s.’

‘That’s harder to explain, I agree,’ conceded Mary.

‘The disappearance of Megan’s body fits into it somewhere too,’ said Gordon. ‘It’s just that I can’t see where at the moment.’

‘Liam Swanson wants to hand that over to the police,’ said Mary.

Gordon nodded but added, ‘Not just yet.’

Mary saw the steely determination in Gordon and found it slightly unnerving. This seemed to convey itself to Gordon who noticed the look in her eyes and felt obliged to explain, ‘I’m really not mad. I’m just someone who got caught up in something he hadn’t bargained for. I really was quite content as a country GP but all this just happened out of the blue and now I’m determined to see it through to the bitter end. I have to.’

His last comment and the look in his eyes triggered off the same reaction in Mary, as had his earlier gesture of rubbing his forehead. She nodded and asked, ‘So what do you do next?’

‘I need to get a sample of Anne-Marie’s tissue for DNA fingerprinting,’ he said.

‘What?’ exclaimed Mary, shocked at the suggestion and opening her eyes wide. ‘Why on Earth do you want to do that?’

Gordon told her why and volunteered the information that Anne-Marie’s body was still being held in the mortuary at Ysbyty Gwynedd. He told her that he planned to get in there somehow.

‘But security has been tightened in Pathology after what happened over in Caernarfon with Megan Griffiths,’ protested Mary.

‘I’ll find a way,’ said Gordon. ‘All I need are a few cells from her body. If I can just show that Anne-Marie could not possibly have been the natural child of John and Lucy Palmer then I think the dam will burst and the whole truth will come out. The police will have to investigate then.’

Mary looked apprehensive. ‘You’re already on the brink of losing your job: breaking into the hospital mortuary and interfering with forensic evidence could lose you your license. You could end up in jail with John Palmer instead of helping him!’

‘There must be a way,’ said Gordon, refusing to see anything other than his objective.

Mary watched him rack his brain for a few moments then she said with an air of resignation, ‘I’ll do it. I’ll get it for you.’

Gordon snapped out of his preoccupation and looked at her, almost unable to believe what he’d just heard.

‘I at least work at the hospital. I can sign myself into Pathology on some perfectly reasonable pretext and get your sample for you while I’m there.’

‘But why?’ asked an astonished Gordon.

‘I don’t know,’ confessed Mary, echoing Gordon’s earlier reply.

‘That would be absolutely wonderful,’ said Gordon.

‘But you must promise me one thing,’ said Mary. ‘If it should turn out that Anne-Marie Palmer was the natural child of the Palmers, you’ll stop all this and get your life back together again. It strikes me that Julie Rees will take you back if you mend your ways, eat a slice of humble pie and come up with a few well-chosen words. What d’you say?’

‘Agreed,’ said Gordon. ‘When d’you think you’ll do it?’

‘I’ll try when I go back on duty tonight. There’ll be fewer people around in the evening anyway. Give me your number and I’ll call you when I have the sample.’

‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am,’ said Gordon.

‘I haven’t got it yet,’ said Mary, picking up her handbag and getting out her purse. Gordon protested but Mary insisted on paying. ‘I invited you, remember,’ she said. ‘And a deal is a deal. You won’t forget that, will you?

Gordon took her meaning. ‘No,’ he assured her. ‘I won’t.’

They left the pub and found that the wind had got up. It was whipping in from the north, across the open waters of the Menai, carrying with it the suggestion of rain as they buttoned up their coats and stood talking on the pavement for a few moments.

‘Can I give you a lift back to Felinbach?’ Mary offered.

Gordon wouldn’t hear of it. ‘I’ve already kept you out of bed long enough,’ he insisted. ‘You get some rest; I’ll catch the bus.’

Mary nodded. ‘I’ll call you later,’ she said.

‘Please, don’t take any unnecessary risks,’ said Gordon. ‘This is my cross to bear, not yours.’

Mary nodded. There was an awkward moment when they didn’t seem sure how to part. In the end they did so with a smile and a handshake. Gordon watched Mary drive off, wishing he could have put his arms around her and held her tight, then he walked slowly up into the town. He thought he’d have a look for a plumber and make arrangements to have his heating fixed before catching the bus home.

The phone rang at nine p.m. and Gordon let it ring twice to disguise the fact that he’d been sitting there, waiting anxiously for the call. He picked it up nervously.

‘Tom? It’s Mary. I’ve been down to the mortuary.’

‘How d’you get on?’ asked Gordon.

‘No joy, I’m afraid.’

Disappointment hit Gordon like a sandbag. He swallowed and asked, ‘What was the problem?’

‘She’s not there.’

This wasn’t what Gordon expected to hear. ‘But she’s been there since they did the post mortem,’ he exclaimed.

‘She’s been moved.’

‘Where?’

‘To Caernarfon General. The duty technician was quite talkative, a natural gossip if truth be told. She told me that Anne-Marie Palmer had been transferred to Caernarfon at the request of one, Professor Carwyn Thomas.’

‘Thomas!’ exclaimed Gordon.

‘Exactly,’ said Mary. ‘She was quite surprised too, but apparently the police pathologist agreed to this because Anne-Marie had been one of the unit’s patients and Thomas wanted to carry out some tests of his own. Being who he is, the pathologist gave it the okay. Apparently he and Thomas are in the same golf club.’

‘It’s against the law to interfere with forensic evidence,’ said Gordon. ‘A certain police pathologist told me that,’ he added sourly.

‘That’s more or less what the technician said too,’ said Mary, ‘But apparently Professor Thomas could be trusted because of who and what he was.’

‘Carry out tests, my foot,’ said Gordon. ‘He’s going to destroy the evidence!’

‘Surely he couldn’t do that,’ said Mary. ‘Caernarfon can’t afford to have another body go missing.’

‘It’s the only reason I can think of for him wanting the body there,’ said Gordon. ‘Do you know when she was transferred?’

‘The technician said earlier today.’

‘Then there’s a chance I can still get to it,’ said Gordon. ‘I’m going up there.’

‘You’ll be taking a terrible risk,’ protested Mary.

‘Providing her body’s still there, this actually suits me better. Being on the inquiry team into Megan’s disappearance gives me the right of access to anywhere I want at Caernarfon General. That’s what Trool said, remember? Getting into the mortuary should present no problem.’

‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ said Mary.

‘I won’t,’ Gordon assured her. ‘And I’m still very grateful to you for what you tried to do this evening.’

‘Let me know how you get on.’

It was just after ten fifteen when Gordon drove into the car park at Caernarfon General. His earlier confidence about gaining access to the mortuary was beginning to waver as he considered the practicalities of actually doing it. The pathology department would be locked at that time of night so he would have to seek assistance from the staff in the hospital’s front office. They in turn would have to check that he had the proper authority so that would mean informing the powers-that-be that he was there and even then it might mean calling out the duty technician or Sepp himself to unlock the door.

Although he would be under no obligation to explain why he wanted access to the mortuary, he could hardly request that he be left alone on the premises. On the other hand, if he didn’t, he would not be able to work on Anne-Marie’s body while someone stood there watching. He was musing that nothing was ever easy when another car drew up in the car park and the driver got out. It was Carwyn Thomas.

Gordon felt his pulse rate rise as Thomas looked across the tarmac and recognised him. Gordon saw him frown and look puzzled as he locked his car door and came towards him.

‘Well, Doctor,’ said Thomas with what looked like a forced grin, ‘What brings you here at this time of night?

‘I might ask you the same question, Professor,’ replied Gordon. ‘Bit late for a clinic, is it not?’

Thomas seemed to take this as a challenge. He stared at Gordon without blinking for a few moments. Gordon suspected this was a technique the man used for intimidating nurses and junior doctors when something had displeased him. He returned the stare and Thomas blinked first.

‘I had to spend the day in London. Another of these damned research council meetings. I thought I’d pop in to see that everything was all right.’

Gordon was delighted to hear that Thomas had been away all day. It meant that he hadn’t had a chance to do anything about Anne-Marie’s body. ‘I’m here to check up on a few things to do with the Megan Griffiths business,’ he volunteered.

‘At this time of night?’

‘Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today,’ said Gordon. It didn’t get much of a smile. They walked together towards the main door in silence but just before they reached it, Thomas stopped beside a dark green Jaguar car and looked puzzled.

‘Something the matter?’ Gordon asked.

Thomas appeared not to hear him at first and then realised he had been spoken to. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘I asked if something was wrong,’ said Gordon.

‘No, nothing.’

‘Good. Perhaps you can help me? I need to gain access to the Pathology Department.’

‘Pathology?’ exclaimed Thomas.

‘One or two procedural things I need to check on.’

‘Surely that sort of thing is best done when the staff are actually there?’ said Thomas.

‘Maybe, but I’d just like to have a look around on my own and get a feel for a few things that have been bothering me,’ said Gordon.

‘I don’t think I understand,’ said Thomas.

‘I have the same sort of feeling,’ said Gordon. ‘I don’t think I understand why you requested that Anne-Marie Palmer’s body be brought here to Caernarfon.’

Thomas was taken aback. ‘What has that got to do with... Who told you that?’

‘No matter,’ replied Gordon. ‘It’s true, isn’t it?’

‘I wanted to carry out a few tests. Dr French was kind enough to give me permission.’

‘As to whether it’s in Dr French’s power to grant you such permission is another matter,’ said Gordon. ‘Personally, I find it odd; he seemed quite a stickler for the rules when I asked if I could do much the same thing.’

‘Of course,’ nodded Thomas, suddenly remembering Gordon’s interest in the case. ‘Your belief in John Palmer’s innocence. You are meddling in something you don’t understand here, Doctor. If you’ll take my advice, you’ll leave things as they are.’

This for Gordon was a seminal moment. It confirmed that there was something to ‘meddle’ in. ‘Thanks for the advice, Professor, but what I really need to know right now is how I get into Pathology?’

For a few seconds it seemed that Thomas might lose his temper; his mouth twitched and his eyes flashed but he kept control. Finally, he simply said, ‘I’ll accompany you to the office and they’ll give you a key.’

Things had worked out better than Gordon could have hoped for. The fact that he was being given a key meant that he would be alone in Pathology. Getting a tissue sample from Anne-Marie was going to be a much simpler business all round.

The elderly man on the desk rose from his chair as Thomas entered. He was short, tubby and wore red braces over a green striped shirt; they held the waistband of his trousers somewhere between his navel and his nipples. He had been watching a small portable television and his eyes still seemed reluctant to leave it for more than a few seconds. He kept glancing back at the screen as Thomas made his request, taking sideways looks at it as he collected a key from a row of keys hanging up along the back wall of the office. He slapped it down on the desk and brought out a grubby hardcover notebook from under the desk. He opened it where a pen had been inserted as a marker. ‘Sign here,’ he said, sliding the book around through 180 degrees and pushing it across to them. Thomas indicated that Gordon do the signing and he did. He took possession of the key and the man returned to his television programme, never really having ever been away.

‘Remember to take the key back when you’re finished,’ said Thomas when it came to the parting of the ways. Gordon assured him that he would and wished him goodnight. Thomas grunted in reply and walked off leaving Gordon to go downstairs to Pathology.

The bottom corridor was badly lit but totally deserted. Gordon unlocked the door to Pathology and stood for a moment in the darkness before switching on the lights and listening to the stutter of the fluorescent tubes as they struggled up to full brightness. It was about time he had a bit of luck, he thought and this was proving a dawdle so far. He would have what he’d come for and be on his way within minutes.

He walked through the labs and into the post mortem suite where he looked for and found a couple of sterile specimen containers and some surgical gloves. It was important that he did not contaminate the sample with any other source of DNA. For this reason he planned to take a cell sample from Anne-Marie’s internal tissue rather than surface material that could conceivable have been tainted with foreign material during earlier examinations. He selected a scalpel and fitted it with a new sterile blade before replacing it temporarily in its foil sheath while he opened up the clasp bolts on the fridge door.

There were four bodies inside; Anne-Marie’s remains were on the lower left shelf. He engaged the hooks on the transporter trolley and slid out the body, deciding that there would be no need to transfer it to an examination table. He’d simply open up the body bag and carry out the procedure while it lay on the trolley. He recoiled slightly at the smell when he unzipped the bag then steeled himself to continue.

He cleaned up an area on the outer aspect of Anne-Marie’s upper arm and made an incision with the scalpel before inserting a pipette and withdrawing some material, being careful to avoid touching the edges of the cut. Almost as an afterthought, he decided to take a second sample from a different site just to make sure. Two matching DNA fingerprints from different sites should rule out any suggestion of cross-contamination at a later stage.

He was just about to expel the contents of the second pipette into a specimen container when he sensed that he was no longer alone. He hadn’t heard anything; he just felt a presence. His mouth went dry and he imagined that it had suddenly turned colder. He was just about to turn round when the inside of his head exploded in white stars of pain and he was sent hurtling into oblivion.