Tangled Web

Twenty three

‘Are you all right?’ asked Fairbrother.

Gordon looked at him blankly, taking fully ten seconds for the question to register. ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ he murmured. ‘Are you absolutely sure about that?’

‘Positive,’ said Fairbrother. ‘I remember thinking at the time that the name seemed vaguely familiar, then I remembered it was the name of the little girl whose body disappeared from the hospital up in Caernarfon. Her name was, Megan Griffiths, wasn’t it?’

Gordon nodded. ‘Yes, it was. Did Professor Thomas say anything apart from her name?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Fairbrother. ‘I suppose I assumed that his investigation had something to do with that sorry business so I didn’t ask too much. They haven’t got to the bottom of it yet, have they?’

Gordon said not and thanked Fairbrother for seeing him at such short notice.

He stood outside on the pavement for a few moments, oblivious to the heavy traffic rumbling by as he tried to make some sense out of this latest piece of information. It seemed bitterly ironic that a link to Megan Griffiths — the one he’d been racking his brains to find — should suddenly appear at a time when his whole investigation had hit the wall with Thomas’s death. But what was the link, he wondered? Just what kind of sample had Thomas been DNA sequencing and where had it come from? Could this mean that Megan’s body hadn’t been destroyed?

Almost without realising it, Gordon found that he had walked as far as the pier. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked out on the boardwalk, pulling his collar up against the strong March wind and feeling occasional gusts of sea spray on his cheek. It was a good quarter of a mile to the end where he turned his back to the wind and leaned over the leeward rail to look down at the rough waters of the Menai. As he did so, a simple obvious thought struck him. Fairbrother had said that Thomas had sought his help in establishing identity. This meant that Thomas had been unsure of the origin of the sample he’d given to Fairbrother. It also implied that he had been conducting an investigation.

When viewed along with the fact that Thomas’s lab had been thoroughly cleared out, Gordon was forced to consider for the first time, and not without some embarrassment, that Thomas might actually have been an innocent party in this whole affair. It made the wind feel all the colder.

‘Of course he was,’ said Mary, pleased at the proposition when Gordon posed the question. ‘His suspicions must have been aroused too and probably at a much earlier stage. He was probably trying to find out what was going on, just like you were. It’s just a pity he didn’t confide in you.’

Gordon was sitting in Mary’s small but comfortable living room on the second floor of a modern block of flats, about a mile from the hospital: they had just eaten and had moved away from the table to have coffee in front of the fire.

‘The heart attack was therefore most unfortunate,’ said Gordon thoughtfully.

‘But awfully convenient for someone, when you think about it,’ said Mary.

Gordon nodded slowly. ‘I’m afraid I may have been doing the professor a grave injustice. Your gut feeling was right about him. He was probably a good guy all along. He knew something wasn’t quite right in the unit so he was looking into it on his own — probably because his pride wouldn’t let him confide in anyone else where the reputation of his clinic was at stake.’

‘Just supposing it wasn’t a heart attack,’ said Mary.

‘You mean it could have been murder?’ said Gordon who had been thinking along the same lines.

‘It would make a lot of sense.’

‘They’ll be doing the PM today so we shouldn’t have too long to wait to find out,’ said Gordon.

‘But if it should turn out that he was murdered,’ said Mary. ‘And he didn’t do the cloning... who did?’

‘Ranulph Dawes,’ replied Gordon without hesitation.

‘The cytologist? The man you asked to help you?’

‘Thanks for reminding me,’ said Gordon wryly. ‘But if it wasn’t Thomas it must have been Dawes. Everything points to that now and suddenly a lot of things would become clearer. Thomas knew something strange was going on in the clinic but he didn’t know exactly what until he saw the ICSI figures from the American lab. Coming just after the heated discussion on human cloning, he must have put two and two together and realised what Dawes had been up to. That’s why he looked the way he did when he watched Dawes demonstrate his skills at the microscope. Not many people have the necessary expertise to even attempt a cloning but Dawes had.

‘You must tell the police this,’ said Mary.

Gordon said, ‘Let’s wait for the PM result first. If French says it was natural causes then we’re back to square one. Even if it turns out to be murder, there’s still going to be a problem getting proof,’ he added. ‘Anne-Marie’s body and the suspect foetuses that Thomas had in his freezer have all been destroyed. Dawes has had time to clean up absolutely everything.’

Subconsciously, Gordon put a hand up to the lump on the back of his head. It prompted Mary to ask, ‘Painful?’

‘Not really, just a dull ache.’

Mary moved closer and indicated that he let her examine it. He bent forward to let her fingers probe the area gently. ‘The swelling’s gone down quite a bit,’ she said. ‘But if it’s troubling you...’

Gordon was acutely aware of Mary’s closeness. Her perfume filled his senses and her touch was awakening feelings in him that he’d almost forgotten. He raised his head slowly and turned to face her. ‘It’s fine,’ he said softly, and kissed her gently on the lips, tracing his fingers slowly down her right cheek. There was only the slightest hesitation before Mary responded and they embraced hungrily.

‘God, I think I’ve wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you,’ murmured Gordon.

‘I bet you say that to all the girls,’ murmured Mary as Gordon kissed her neck.

Gordon looked at her and saw the smile he’d wanted to see from the time of their first encounter. Any lingering doubts he had about his feelings for her and whether it was a good idea or not, disappeared like snow in summer. ‘I want you,’ he said. ‘God, how I want you.’

Mary put a finger up to his lips and held it there. ‘I need a little more time,’ she said softly. ‘Just a little more. Is that all right?’

Gordon smiled and nodded.

‘But don’t feel discouraged...’ Mary smiled broadly and they both laughed.

Gordon got in to find a message on his answering machine from Charles French, asking that he call him back. ‘Well, well,’ muttered Gordon, wondering why on earth French would be calling him. He dialled the number.

‘Dr Gordon? Thank you for returning my call.’

Gordon recognised the sound of someone trying to be ‘nice’ even if it was a struggle. ‘What can I do for you, Doctor?’ he asked, feeling intrigued.

‘Look, I appreciate that you and Chief Inspector Davies don’t exactly see eye to eye over a lot of things,’ began French. ‘But I don’t think that should be allowed to sour our relationship, do you?’

‘Quite honestly, I didn’t think we had one,’ said Gordon.

‘Well, no, I suppose I meant that, as two medical men, we naturally have a strong professional bond...’

‘I’m really not sure I understand what you’re getting at, Dr French,’ said Gordon.

‘This business with the Palmer child’s body,’ said French awkwardly. ‘I know what I did was technically wrong, a gross error of judgement on my part, but my intentions were good and in no way did I imagine it was going to lead to the destruction of Crown evidence. You do accept that, don’t you?’

‘I don’t think what I accept or don’t accept has any relevance in this case, Doctor,’ said Gordon. ‘I really don’t see why you’re telling me this.’

‘I suppose I wanted to know if the Palmer defence team are planning to make a big thing out of it,’ confessed French.

‘I really couldn’t say,’ said Gordon.

‘Does that mean that they’re not actually aware of what has happened as yet?’ asked French, a hopeful note creeping into his voice.

So that was it, thought Gordon, French was trying to minimise the fall-out as far as he was concerned from the destruction of Anne-Marie’s body. ‘Not from me,’ he said.

French gave a small but audible sigh of relief before continuing, ‘Are you planning to tell them?’

‘They have a right to know,’ said Gordon, stalling for time, he hadn’t fully thought this through although now that French had brought up the subject, he supposed that John Palmer’s defence team could make trouble over the unavailability of the body for any further examination.

‘I understand from Chief Inspector Davies that you, yourself admit to being in the mortuary at Caernarfon General with the express purpose of carrying out an illegal procedure on the body?’ said French, more haughtily now.

Gordon smiled to himself as the threat entered the negotiations.

‘After I had refused you access...’ continued French.

‘Presumably because I’m not a member of the same golf club as you and Carwyn Thomas,’ said Gordon.

‘That is outrageous!’ spluttered French.

‘I agree,’ said Gordon calmly, ‘What you’re suggesting, Doctor, is that if you go down for screwing around with Crown evidence, you’re going to make sure that I go down with you. There, that didn’t take long to say, did it?’

‘There was absolutely no criminal intent in what I did,’ protested French.

‘Me neither,’ said Gordon, matter-of-factly. ‘I simply wanted a small tissue sample for DNA fingerprinting.’

‘DNA Fingerprinting?’

‘I had doubts over the true identity of the child.’

After a short pause, French said, ‘You don’t need much in the way of biological material for DNA fingerprinting.’

‘Very little,’ agreed Gordon, immediately wondering why French had said something like that.

‘Then it would still be possible.’

‘Pardon?’

‘I could let you have a pathological specimen taken from Anne-Marie Palmer at post mortem,’ said French. ‘I still have a range of lab specimens taken from her. If it would help mend fences between us, I am prepared to let you have access to what you need without asking too much.’

Gordon was excited at the prospect but not so excited that he couldn’t see that he and French would now be colluding. His concern was quickly overruled by deciding that he’d be doing what was right. If there was the remotest chance of obtaining sound scientific evidence relevant to the case, it had to be taken. Medical facts were definitely preferable in court to John Palmer’s lawyers introducing legal arguments over technicalities. Apart from that, John’s luck was so bad that the judge at his trial would probably turn out to be a member of the same golf club as French and Thomas.

‘Perhaps I could pick up a sample in the morning?’

‘Of course, and if by any chance you should be able to get the information that you want from the sample...’

‘I can’t make promises, Doctor, but I have no wish to see you get into trouble for the sake of it.’ Gordon decided that this would be an opportune moment to ask French about the post mortem on Carwyn Thomas.

‘I’m satisfied it was a heart attack.’

Fuck, thought Gordon.

‘I’ve still to get the toxicology results but I don’t think DCI Davies will be giving you any more hassle over it. Natural causes, as far as I’m concerned.’

Gordon put the phone down. He was disappointed that Thomas’s death had proved to be natural after all but he felt pleased that DNA fingerprinting Anne-Marie had become a possibility again. It seemed to signal that maybe not all the fates were against him. He poured himself a large whisky and wondered if Fairbrother at the university would be willing to carry out the tests. He’d call and ask him in the morning but he suddenly realised that sequencing Anne-Marie’s DNA would not be enough on its own; he would also need DNA samples from John and Lucy Palmer to compare the profile with. This was clearly going to be his next problem but he now had an appetite for it. He would find a way. He’d been given a second chance and now nothing was going to stop him following his theory through to the end.

He could see no possibility of getting a blood or tissue sample from John Palmer but material from Lucy alone would do. She must have had various specimens taken from her when she had been admitted to Ysbyty Gwynedd after the fire incident so it should be possible to lay hands on one of these but that would involve giving reasons to lab staff, going through channels and risking possible refusal. He supposed that, if the worst came to the worst, he could always approach Lucy directly in the Manchester hospital where she’d been transferred for plastic surgery. He’d been keeping in touch by telephone and planned to go over there in a couple of days time anyway, now that she’s settled in. But this in many ways would be the least attractive course of action. He really didn’t want to say anything at all about this to Lucy while there was still a chance he might be wrong. If that were the case and Anne-Marie should be shown to be the Palmers’ natural child, it would be unforgivable to have caused her all that angst on top of everything else. He wanted to be absolutely sure of his facts before he said anything at all to either John or Lucy. That meant obtaining samples without their knowing.

The house! Lucy’s house! thought Gordon. He had arranged for it to be made secure, but that had just involved having the broken window boarded up. As yet, he hadn’t been back there to tidy up the mess. Lucy had lost a lot of blood on the floor on that hellish night. He would be able to get the sample he needed from there.

There was a drawback in that some of the blood stains would almost certainly be his own so he’d ask Fairbrother to fingerprint a number of samples from the floor and also provide him with a fresh sample of his own blood for elimination purposes. He looked at his watch; it was just after midnight. The question now was, should he leave it until morning or should he do this right now? There was no way he could sleep; he’d go now.

As he drew up outside the house, it struck Gordon that it looked as if it had been unoccupied for years instead of only a few short weeks. This was an impression largely created by the boarded-up window and the fact that it was night time — modern streetlights seemed to exaggerate any sign of disrepair. Sunlight did the opposite. No further graffiti had appeared on the walls, but he did notice that moss was starting to creep over the path through lack of use and weeds were popping up in the cracks.

He took a few specimen containers from the medical case he kept in the Land Rover along with a pair of surgical gloves and a packet of sterile scalpel blades. It was important that he didn’t contaminate any of the samples he collected, either with each other or through contact with his own skin.

A bedroom curtain moved in the neighbouring house when he slammed the car door but he didn’t look up. Instead, he walked briskly up the path and opened the door with the key Lucy had given him at the hospital. Clicking on the hall light brought back memories of the fire and stopped him in his tracks for a moment. He felt his throat tighten. The house still smelt of burning and in his mind he could hear Lucy screaming again.

He made a conscious effort to put such thoughts behind him before beginning a search of the floor where Lucy had fallen. He identified four separate bloodstains, far enough apart to suggest that cross contamination had not taken place. Using a separate sterile scalpel blade for each, he scraped samples up into each of four specimen containers and secured the caps. He’d got exactly what he’d come for and would now call a halt. He couldn’t face doing any tidying up right now; he’d come back another time. He checked that the rooms at the back of the house were secure before locking up at the front and returning to the car.

The wind that had been the main feature of the weather over the last few days died away during the night to leave a still, calm morning when Gordon awoke at seven and looked out at the harbour. The downside to this was that the temperature had fallen, a feature that was apparent in the flat where the heating had failed to come on again. There was a frost in evidence on the rigging and mooring ropes of the resident yachts in the basin, making them look like decorations on a wedding cake. He could see that he’d be scraping the ice of the Land Rover’s windscreen before he went anywhere this morning.

He rubbed his hands and swung his arms across his chest a few times before spending a few minutes coaxing the heating into turning on. Despite having arranged to have it repaired by a firm in Bangor, there had been a misunderstanding about the time they were due to come. They had in fact turned up when he had been out and as yet, no alternative arrangement had been made.

He got back into bed and switched on the radio to catch up on the news while the water heated up and the chill was taken off the air. There would be no point in trying to phone Fairbrother at the university before nine, he reckoned. If Fairbrother agreed to do the DNA fingerprinting — and it was still a big ‘if’, he’d collect a sample of Anne-Marie’s tissue from French’s lab in Bangor and take it over to him along with the samples he’d collected from Lucy’s house. It was ten past nine when Gordon managed to reach Fairbrother at his third attempt.

‘Dr Fairbrother? It’s Tom Gordon here. You were kind enough to speak with me yesterday.’

‘Of course, what can I do for you?’

‘Frankly, I need your help again — pretty much in the same way that Professor Thomas did and for pretty much the same reason. I need to have some samples DNA fingerprinted.’

‘You folks are going to finish up with a DNA database for everyone in Bangor by the time you’re finished,’ said Fairbrother, but he didn’t sound annoyed.

‘I’d really be very grateful for your help,’ said Gordon.

‘How many samples are we talking about?’

‘Six, but there is a slight problem. Only two are conventional samples; four are scrapings from blood stains.’ Gordon bit his lip as he waited for Fairbrother’s response.

‘Are you sure this isn’t a job best done through the police forensic service?’

‘I’d prefer if it was done by a reliable independent agent if at all possible,’ said Gordon.

‘All right,’ said Fairbrother, ‘Bring ‘em over; I’ll see what I can do.’

Gordon let out a long sigh of relief as he put down the phone. Everything was in place. All he had to do now was pick up the sample from French and the ball would start rolling.