‘It is missing,’ agreed Davies.
‘At last we are agreed on something,’ sighed Gordon, letting his head fall back on the pillow. ‘You can’t really believe that I had a hand in Thomas’s death?’ he said.
‘Let’s wait and see what the pathologist says. In the meantime you can tell me about this secret research you say Professor Thomas was involved in.’
In his present condition, Gordon had little heart for it but he sat on the edge of the bed and supported his head in his hands while he got his thoughts in order.
‘I don’t think Anne-Marie Palmer was really Anne-Marie Palmer,’ he began. It was a bad start as far as the policeman was concerned. He rolled his eyes.
‘I think she was the result of a human cloning procedure performed in Thomas’s IVF unit.’
‘Human cloning procedure? You mean like in creating a copy of a living person?’
Gordon nodded.
‘Can you prove this?’
‘That’s what I was trying to do last night when I got knocked unconscious and sent to an early cremation. I found out through a friend that Anne-Marie Palmer’s body had been transferred to Caernarfon General at Thomas’s request. I wanted to get a tissue sample for DNA fingerprinting before he’d had a chance to destroy the evidence. Unfortunately I met him in the car park when I arrived and I think he suspected that was why I was there. Now it’s too late to get the proof I was after. Anne-Marie went into the incinerator.’
‘Of course, you could have put Anne-Marie Palmer’s body into the fire, couldn’t you?’ said Davies.
‘Why the hell would I do that?’ exploded Gordon, his exasperation boiling over. ‘My whole reason for being there was to prove that she wasn’t the natural child of the Palmers. Her body was evidence as far as I was concerned. Why would I want to destroy it? What possible motive could I have had?’
‘Maybe you discovered that Anne-Marie was in fact the Palmers’ natural child so you wanted to get rid of the evidence before you made a complete prat of yourself — yet again! Professor Thomas might have caught you in the act and had a heart attack all because of you and your loony ideas.’
‘What a fine mind you have, Davies,’ said Gordon caustically.
‘You’re in deep enough shit as it is, Gordon,’ growled Davies. ‘Don’t make things worse for yourself.’
Gordon ignored the warning. ‘Who’s carrying out the pathology on Thomas?’ he asked.
‘Dr French.’
‘The same man who agreed to transfer Anne-Marie’s remains to Caernarfon at Thomas’s request.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘I’m not trying to say anything. I’m just pointing out that the body, despite being subject to Crown Prosecution Service regulations, was moved here at the request of Carwyn Thomas. I think so that he could destroy it but I don’t know what he told French. I understand they were in the same golf club, so, instead of making up stories about me, why not ask French about it and ask him why he agreed to do something so grossly illegal.’
‘You’re not exactly making yourself popular round here, are you Doctor?’ sighed Davies.
‘I don’t think I’d like to be popular round here,’ replied Gordon with plain meaning.
Davies left and Mary came in. ‘Can I take it, you two haven’t exactly become firm friends yet,’ she said, looking after the departing Davies.
‘You could say,’ said Gordon wearily. He was still sitting on the edge of the bed.
‘You’ve decided to leave us then?’
‘I feel okay,’ said Gordon.
‘You’ll have to sign the form,’ said Mary, suspecting that any argument would be useless. She was referring to the liability waiver that had to be signed when a patient wanted to leave before an official discharge was granted.
‘No problem.’
‘I’ll be off duty soon. Coffee?’
Gordon agreed and got his clothes out from the bedside locker. The act of bending down brought on a severe headache and he sat back down on the edge of the bed for a moment.
‘Sure you won’t change your mind?’ asked Mary.
‘I’m going.’
Twenty two
‘I suppose Professor Thomas’s death changes everything?’ said Mary, as they took coffee in the hospital cafeteria.
‘It’s certainly not going to help John Palmer,’ said Gordon, feeling low. ‘Thomas was probably the only person in the world who could have told me why Anne-Marie Palmer was murdered. It might be academic now but I can’t even follow up on my suspicion that she wasn’t really the Palmers’ child. The evidence went into the incinerator.’
‘It’s still so hard to believe the professor was involved in something like that,’ said Mary. ‘I didn’t know him well but you get a feeling about people. He always seemed such a genuine man.’
‘It did seem out of character, I’ll grant you,’ Gordon agreed.
‘Maybe none of us is all that we seem,’ said Mary ruefully.
Gordon agreed. ‘It’s the age of the image.’
‘What will you do now?’
‘I’m not at all sure,’ said Gordon, with a shrug of the shoulders. ‘I think my only chance lies in finding something that Thomas left in writing. I keep thinking he must have made notes about his experiments or kept some kind of records: he couldn’t possibly have kept everything in his head. Scientists don’t do that.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘He was pretty thorough by all accounts. It would be out of character for him not to.’
‘Where will you start?’
‘Maybe I’ll take another look at his lab. I might have more success when I’m not so nervous and I didn’t exactly have a lot of time last time.’
‘Won’t the police have sealed it off?’
‘No reason to,’ said Gordon. ‘The medical staff on the spot seemed satisfied that it was death by natural causes despite what Davies was proposing about my involvement. Anyway, the PM results should be out today.’
‘Do you really have to do this all on your own?’ asked Mary. ‘Surely there must be someone in Thomas’s unit who could help you look through his files and records? Isn’t it possible that some of the people there might even have suspected that something odd was going on?’
Gordon realised that he should have thought of this himself. ‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said. ‘I could have a word with Dawes. He’s the chief cytologist in the IVF unit; to all intents he was Thomas’s right-hand man. If anyone was in a position to smell a rat, he was. I’ll talk to him.’
Mary was glad to see that the cloud of depression had lifted a little from Gordon. ‘I’m off to bed now,’ she announced. ‘But I’m not on duty tonight. Why don’t you come round this evening? I’ll cook for us.’
Gordon smiled broadly and said, ‘That sounds good to me. I’ll look forward to it. Tell me where you live.’
Mary wrote her address on a page of a small, spiral-bound notebook she took out of her handbag and tore it off to give to Gordon. He said that he knew it.
‘About eight,’ said Mary. ‘Your car’s still at Caernarfon?’
Gordon said that it was. It was still in the car park at the hospital.
‘I’ll run you up.’
Gordon protested but Mary insisted, saying that she was in no great hurry to get to bed as she wouldn’t be on duty that evening and it was always difficult to sleep on shift change-over nights. It was just coming up to nine thirty when she dropped him off in the car park at Caernarfon General and he waved good-bye. The prospect of dinner with Mary had already done much to raise his spirits. He found it hard to keep the smile off his face as he walked up to the hospital.
The staff in the IVF unit were talking in little huddles as Gordon passed through on his way to find Ran Dawes. The snatches of conversation he picked up suggested that they were still in a state of shock at the news. They were also concerned about what might happen to their jobs, should the hospital decide not to continue with the unit. He found Ran Dawes sitting at one of his microscopes. Dawes turned round when Gordon asked, ‘Can we talk?’