Meek was followed by the other attendant, an older man named Henriques, who smelled strongly of pipe tobacco and had a disconcerting habit of wiping his lips with the back of his hand before and after every answer. He said much the same as Meek, his answers often matching Meek’s word for word. He knew nothing at all about any mix-up and had no suggestion to make as to how it could have happened.
Swanson’s disappointment was obvious when the interviews were over.
‘Pretty much as we expected, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘What d’you feel? Were they lying to save their jobs or were they telling the truth?’
‘I believed them,’ said Christine Williams.
There were resigned murmurs of agreement from the others. Once again, Gordon was about to say what he’d found out at Prosser’s when another knock came to the door and Harcourt came back in. ‘Any luck?’ he asked.
‘They continued to deny all knowledge of any mix-up and I think it’s fair to say we believed them,’ said Swanson.
Harcourt looked sceptical. ‘Personally, I think they’ve worked out that, if they both keep mum or tell the same story, they’ll keep their jobs and no one will be able to touch them for the mix-up. Common sense says that it had to be down to them.’
‘It wasn’t a simple mix-up,’ Gordon announced.
‘I’m sorry?’ said Harcourt as the room fell silent.
Gordon told them about his visit to Prosser’s. He concluded by saying, ‘The person who put the biological waste into Megan Griffiths’ coffin knew exactly what they were doing. There was no innocent mix-up involving waste bags. The material was never actually inside a biological waste bag until it was put in one by the men sent over by the hospital to recover it.’
There were gasps from the others and requests for more information. Harcourt seemed to lose colour. ‘I don’t think I understand,’ he said. ‘Are you saying that it was a deliberate, malicious act, designed to shock or discredit the hospital in some way?’
Gordon shook his head. ‘I hardly think so; the person responsible could not have anticipated the coffin being opened again, so, if things had gone to plan, no one would ever have known about it.’
‘I think Dr Trool had better hear this,’ said Harcourt. He left the room, saying he’d be back shortly.
Swanson took Gordon to one side and asked, ‘You’ve obviously had some time to think about this on the way over, have you reached any conclusions?’
Gordon said that he thought some kind of mix-up might still be possible, although now it would have to involve the disposal of Megan Griffiths’ body at some earlier time, followed by an attempted cover-up using the contents of the biological waste bag to make up weight in the coffin.
‘What sort of disposal?’ asked Swanson.
‘Good question.’
Harcourt returned with a grim looking James Trool who came into the room, gasping, ‘This is all I need. The papers will have a field day when they get hold of it: they’ll crucify us. Are you absolutely certain?’
‘The undertaker is adamant that the waste material was not held inside any kind of bag. That being the case, it could not have been put there by mistake,’ said Gordon.
Trool shook his head. ‘I thought a mix-up was bad enough,’ he said, ‘But the suggestion that the act was deliberate just beggars belief. This could do the hospital untold damage and it’s come at the worst possible time, just when we were looking forward to some well-deserved, positive publicity.’
‘Why do you say that?’ asked Swanson.
‘The IVF symposium next week,’ replied Trool. ‘Some of the world’s leading authorities on in vitro fertilisation are coming to Caernarvon General to pay tribute to the work of Professor Thomas. They are holding a four-day symposium and we were anticipating some favourable press and television coverage. I need hardly point out that this sort of thing means a lot to hospitals these days when we are all competing for funds. We have here a centre of excellence in Professor Thomas’s unit and public awareness of that fact is so important. A successful symposium could put us up there on the stage with some of the best hospitals in the country. Now it looks like all that press attention will go to the Griffiths business.’
‘It is quite a serious business,’ Swanson reminded him.
Trool immediately held up his hands and adopted a pained expression. ‘Please, please, don’t get me wrong,’ he pleaded. ‘It was not my intention to minimise the awfulness of what’s happened. I just care so deeply about this hospital and its reputation that it pains me to see us being pilloried for what, after all, must have been some tragic sort of mistake, however it came to pass.’
‘I think we can all appreciate how you feel, Doctor,’ said Swanson to nods of agreement all round.
‘This is still an unofficial inquiry,’ Gordon pointed out. ‘There’s no requirement for us to give the press a blow-by-blow account of what’s happening during the course of our investigations. In fact, we are under no obligation to tell anyone anything at all at the moment.’
‘Good point,’ said Swanson, seeing what Gordon was getting at. The others nodded their agreement.
‘I suggest we adopt a policy of saying nothing to the press until our inquiries are complete.’
Trool was obviously very relieved. ‘I’m very grateful to you all,’ he said. ‘We’d certainly appreciate a breathing space and I reckon we are about due for a lull in press coverage. They’ve said about as much as they can about Megan without repeating themselves. They may now be content to wait for something new to come along or for enough time to elapse so they can start complaining about tardiness or maybe start seeking out one of the cover-ups they’re so fond of.’
‘There is one thing you should be prepared for however, Dr Trool,’ said Swanson. ‘Unless we come up with some evidence over the next few weeks to confirm the accidental disposal of Megan Griffiths’ body, we may well have to hand things over to the police.’
Trool nodded gravely. ‘I understand,’ he said quietly and left the room accompanied by Harcourt.
‘So where do we go from here?’ asked Christine Williams.
‘I suggest we go away and have another look at the timing of events in the files we were given,’ said Swanson. ‘In the light of what Dr Gordon has come up with, we have to consider that Megan’s body went astray at an earlier time than we first thought. Perhaps we can narrow it down to the period between when it came into the mortuary from the PM room and probably before the biological waste arrived from the theatres. Let’s see if we can correlate that with the names of people who were seen in the Path department around that time?’
The meeting broke up with Swanson saying that he would contact them individually by phone in due course. ‘In the meantime, we say nothing at all to the press except that our inquiries are continuing.’
Gordon was about to get into his car when he saw James Trool hurrying across the car park towards him; he paused, resting his arm on the open door.
‘Glad I caught you,’ said Trool. ‘Are you in an awful hurry or can you spare a few minutes?’
‘No great hurry,’ said Gordon. ‘I was just going to pick up a sandwich for lunch.’
‘Then perhaps you’d care to join us,’ said Trool. ‘By us I mean Professor Thomas and myself. I was telling him of your understanding attitude over our concern with the press; he’s very grateful too. Have you met him?’
Gordon said that he hadn’t. He was concerned that having lunch with senior members of the hospital staff might be construed as being a little too cosy with the establishment he was supposed to be investigating but dismissed the notion as being over-cautious. He hadn’t agreed to cover anything up, just not to make any unnecessary statements to the papers.