Bloodstains Read online

  She said, ‘I’d better explain where I live,’ and it should have been my turn to blush, but I didn’t.

  ‘Er, Holly — I’m afraid I don’t have a car. No, I’m sorry, tell me where you live, and I’ll get a taxi.’

  ‘Of course! I was wondering why you needed a lift yesterday. No, I’ll pick you up. What time?’

  ‘No, it was very rude of me, I’ll get a taxi.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, I insist,’ she said, and we both laughed loud enough for the housemen to stop and stare at us for a moment.

  She leaned forward. ‘What time?’ she said quietly.

  ‘Eight. No, make it eight-thirty, I’ll buy the drinks.’

  She smiled at me, then looked at her watch. ‘I must be getting back. No, you stay and finish your meal,’ she said, and something told me she’d rather be alone.

  ‘OK. See you later.’

  She walked out quickly without looking back.

  Not my type, although I might get some useful information out of her. I felt slightly cheap as I thought this.

  The computer centre was within walking distance of the hospital and I strolled over, savouring the light breeze and washed-out blue of a summer’s afternoon. The purple bulk of Dartmoor beckoned, and I wondered whether I could get Holly to take me there.

  The computer staff were the usual cheerful, self-confident breed, and I enjoyed an afternoon of familiar jargon with them.

  ‘Those Transfusion staff are just a hunch of amateurs, children,’ the manager told me. ‘It’s still a new toy at the moment, but they’ll learn.’

  ‘Doesn’t it give them any product control?’

  He compressed his lips as he shook his head. It prevents them from sticking the wrong label on the wrong tag, but that’s about all.’

  So much for Marcus’s theory that the computer would make things more difficult for the villains.

  But it was good to be back in the middle of a mainframe computer and feel it stretch its tentacles. They explained the system to me and gave me a password with access to all the Centre’s programs. I would put it to use tomorrow.

  ‘Mr Jones, telephone for Mr Jones at reception, please.’ The tinny voice overlayed for a moment the muzak in the plush bar, plucked me from my reverie.

  Marcus, I thought, typical — he’s just remembered something else. We’d had a long talk after dinner.

  ‘I’ll transfer it to your room if you like, sir,’ said the eager-to-please clerk.

  ‘No, that’s all right, thanks. Hello,’ I said into the receiver.

  ‘Mr Jones?’ Not Marcus.

  ‘Speaking.’

  ‘I won’t mess about, Mr Jones, I know who you are.’

  ‘Good for you.’ The voice from last night, still muffled. ‘Why should you be interested?’

  ‘I know who you are,’ it repeated. ‘I can help you.’

  ‘Why should I need any help?’ I hedged, wishing I had taken the call in my room. Too late now.

  ‘You’ll never get to the bottom of it without my help.’

  ‘Are you sure you’ve got the right person?’

  ‘Don’t give me that crap, I sussed you as soon as I saw you. About the assets that have been bleeding away, get me? You interested or not?’

  ‘I might be.’

  ‘Yes or no, now, or I hang up,’ A brittle panic in his voice told me he meant it.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s better. Listen, I can give you the lot, now. How much is it worth?’

  ‘I haven’t the authority to offer—’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘All right, a hundred.’

  ‘You’re joking, this must be worth a thousand.’

  ‘Two hundred, and that’s it.’

  A long pause. ‘How about immunity from prosecution?’

  ‘Okay.’ I lied without hesitation.

  ‘I want the money tonight.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Get it and meet me in half an hour.’

  ‘No, you come here.’

  ‘No fucking way.’ Panic again. ‘You come here, you want to see how it worked, don’t you?’ So, he was calling from the Centre.

  ‘All right, but no money until you’ve shown me.’

  ‘You be here in the Centre half an hour from now. Any funny business an’ I’ll deny everything.’

  ‘Whereabouts in the—’ But he had already rung off.

  As we left the cash dispenser, I leaned forward to tell the taxi-driver to turn back. But I hesitated; ridiculous or not, I had no real choice.

  The interior of the taxi flushed intermittently with yellow light as we sped through the city centre, and I went over again what I knew.

  He must have seen me, perhaps even spoken to me at the Centre.

  He wanted immunity. I was sure the money was just a front, it would have been too easy to cheat him out of it. So, he must be an accomplice, scared by Leigh’s killing.

  Or could he be just someone who knew, perhaps someone who’d wanted to be part of it and was shopping them out of spite?

  Well, I’d soon know. Maybe.

  Or — the melodramatic slipped in unwanted — could it be a set-up, for me? I thrust away the image of Leigh’s body.

  The noisy rumble of the taxi faded leaving a near silence, the traffic-roar of the city was muted as though it were leagues away. Soft night air rustled the saplings as my shadow merged with theirs in the moonlight. As I drew nearer, a nurse holding a tray passed one of the few lighted windows of the icing-sugar hospital.

  I reached the Centre. The night orderly sat slumped in the Issue Room in front of a portable television set. Should I tell him I was here?

  Yes, tell him I’d lost my wallet or something. No, he’d only want to come with me.

  The glass door gave silently beneath my palm and I slid into the gloom of the lobby. I waited.

  No movement, no sound save the ticking of the chart recorders of the Blood Bank, their round faces ghostly beneath the row of green warning lights.

  What should I do, wait for him, for something to happen? Perhaps he’d seen me already.

  A minute went by. Nothing. I made a decision.

  I would walk once around the perimeter, check the tea-room, then wait in the lobby again. If nothing happened after five minutes, go.

  I turned left in the corridor with the laboratories, tiptoed past the orderly’s door. Low grumble of TV. The light from outside shone through the windows and open doors, stippling the corridor like a zebra crossing.

  I slipped through, a shadow among shadows; the equipment assumed bizarre shapes, the Groper more than ever like a robot, a spherical flask became a spaceman’s head -

  As I reached the far door and pulled it open, another door banged faintly, somewhere ahead of me. Or was it my imagination?

  This corridor was almost completely black, just the faintest glow from reception at the end. I become aware of the soft squeaking of my shoes, and other noises; the tick of a hot-water pipe, the whisper of a ventilator, noises that are everywhere in silence — a door knocked again, closer this time.

  I hurried down the corridor, reception, a glimpse of the outside, a release from claustrophobia.

  Another door, left again, the last leg of the perimeter. Darkness, tiny noises and a close, somehow stale warmth.

  Ahead lay the turning that led back to the lobby.

  This time it was unmistakable, the door to my left banged and footsteps receded stealthily away from the other side.

  I pushed it open and slid through. Silence. It was the wash-up area Trefor had shown me yesterday, next to the central courtyard. Moonlight reflected from the white-tiled walls outside, diffused into the middle of the room in a great patch of light surrounded by looming shadows.

  I made out a washing-machine and beside it, stacked crates of bottles glinting like jewels beneath the sea.

  I stood absolutely motionless.

  Nothing.

  Then the faintest metallic tinkle that must be,
had to be, another person.

  I stepped into the moonlight.

  ‘It’s Jones here,’ I called softly, ‘come on out, I want to talk. I’ve got the money.’

  Nothing.

  Another step forward, towards the shining bottles, where I heard the noise.

  ‘It’s all right, it’s Jones—’

  A shadow, then the bottles danced before my eyes as something crashed into the back of my head and I pitched forward.

  I groaned, I think I must have stirred, then the blows began thudding systematically into my body. No voice, just the breaths of the shadow above kicking me repeatedly. Then a scratch, a creak, and then a thousand glass bottles shredding into a brilliant sound around me.

  Chapter Five

  ‘Doesn’t the fact that you’re full of the stuff bother you?’ said a voice. Not as long as I can’t see it…

  I could see it now in the moonlight, staining my hands and cuffs.

  A crate fell away from my back as I struggled to my feet. Hadn’t the night orderly heard the racket? Broken glass crunched, and I stopped petrified by the thought that a shard of it would penetrate my thin shoes.

  No good, had to wash the blood from my hands, staggered to the sink, regardless of the thought that my attacker might still be there. Pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it round the worst cut before limping to the Issue Office.

  The grizzled orderly nearly fell from his seat. ‘‘Ere, who are you?’

  I told him who I was and that I’d lost my way and had an accident looking for my wallet.

  ‘I should say you did,’ he said, peering at me. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Knocked over some bottles. Have you got a first aid box or anything?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know about that, I think we ought to get Doc Chalgrove.’

  ‘Is he here?’

  ‘On call. Lives just over the way.’ He peered at me again. ‘You don’t look too special.’

  ‘I don’t feel it.’

  ‘You better siddown while I phone him.’

  I let my head sink gratefully on to my arms and the orderly’s voice became a faraway echo.

  A hand on my shoulder and a familiar voice. ‘So, you’ve lost your wallet, your way, and now some of the red stuff.’ Chalgrove’s face swam into focus as I sat up.

  ‘Can’t understand why ‘e didn’t come an’ ask me,’ grumbled the orderly.

  ‘Didn’t want to disturb you, I expect, Bill,’ said Chalgrove. ‘Now, let’s have a look at you, old chap.’ His words weren’t in the least patronizing. ‘Hmm that one’s a bit deep, should get away without stitching, though. Can you walk? We ought to go to the donor ward.’

  ‘Sure — feel a bit dizzy, that’s all.’

  ‘Not surprising. Come on, I’ll help you.’

  ‘Need a hand, Dr Chalgrove?’

  You could unlock the donor ward for me, please, Bill. And then perhaps you could clear up the broken glass you told me about.’

  Bill grunted.

  Ten minutes later, Chalgrove was finishing off a very neat job of dressing my hands.

  ‘Try not to get them wet, that one particularly.’ He indicated the left, which had the deep cut. ‘I know it’s awkward, but they’ll heal better if you don’t. Come and ask the nurse here to change them tomorrow. So, you lost your wallet,’ he continued as though it were the same subject. ‘It must contain some important things for you to come back tonight.’

  I looked at his impassive face, wondering whether to tell him.

  ‘Considerate of you not to disturb Bill. Foolish, though. So easy to get lost…’

  ‘Okay, so you know I didn’t come back for my wallet.’

  ‘What did you come back for?’

  When I told him what had happened, his first reaction, was to examine my head.

  ‘Skin’s not broken, I don’t think you’ll be concussed.’ He sat down and regarded me. ‘Dangerous game you’re playing. What do you think, did they know something, or was it a hoax?’

  ‘Some hoax!’

  ‘Hmm. What next? The police, I suppose.’

  I tried to gather my wits. ‘No, I don’t think so. What happened tonight proves that something is going on. I want to watch people for their reactions…’ I tailed off, looking at him.

  ‘A glance tells all, eh?’ He chuckled. ‘Well, rather you than me.’

  ‘I didn’t realize you lived so close, you were here in no time.’

  ‘Always have. Useful for being on call, useful for all-night experiments.’

  ‘All-night experiments! You must be dedicated.’

  ‘I take time off in lieu, I assure you.’ He smiled. ‘There’s a look of inquiry on your face which I suppose I’d better satisfy. My interest, my field if you like, is plasma fractionation, the manufacture of substances like Factor VIII, which is a substance haemophiliacs lack.’ I knew about Factor VIII, of course, but why did Chalgrove always seem to touch on my sensitive areas?

  ‘Up until a year ago I did a lot of night work, now I don’t do so much. In answer to your unasked question, no, there was no experiment on the night that Leigh was killed.’

  ‘Haven’t you ever seen or heard anything odd when you’ve been here at night?’

  ‘No, but then it’s unlikely that I would. My laboratory is self-contained and virtually sound-proof, since some of the equipment is noisy.’

  ‘I’d have thought your presence would have been a deterrent, though.’

  He shrugged. ‘As I said, I haven’t been doing so much recently. Anyway, to be perfectly honest, if I saw Hill or any of the orderlies with a crate of blood, I wouldn’t know whether they were up to no good, or not. I’m assuming that poor Hill is one of your chief suspects?’

  ‘Why poor Hill?’

  Chalgrove snorted. ‘Well, I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes, would you?’ He stood up. ‘With all due respect to your detective abilities, Tom, I suggest that you get to bed. Come and see me tomorrow, just to make sure there’s no concussion.’

  He led the way out, switching off lights and locking up. He waited while I telephoned for a taxi, then walked swiftly away on his long shambling legs.

  I phoned Marcus out of a sense of duty to tell him what had happened, only to be told I was a bloody fool for walking into so obvious a trap. I thanked him, had a strong whisky from my bottle, and went to bed.

  When I woke up, it was after nine and I ached all over. With deep groans, I pushed aside the anaesthetic of sleep and stood up. The aches got worse and a livid bruise stained my thigh.

  I was too late for breakfast, of course, the posher the hotel the more punctilious, so I ordered a taxi and went straight to the Centre.

  The first stop was the donor ward where a pleasant nurse clucked as she re-dressed my left hand. A plaster would do for the right, she said. Then I walked round to the laboratories.

  It was an eerie sensation, knowing that any of the faces I saw could belong to the one who hit me. Perhaps he was watching me now, knowing but unknown.

  Neither Holly nor Trefor were in their rooms, so I went into the tea-room, steeling myself to meet their eyes.

  The talking stopped, and heads turned as I walked in.

  ‘Hello, Tom,’ greeted Trefor. ‘We’d nearly given you up.’

  ‘I was delayed.’ I forced myself to smile and held up my left hand. ‘Had an accident with some broken glass.’

  Now! My eyes quickly searched each face as Holly said, ‘It must have been nasty to need a bandage like that.’

  Her face showed concern, as did Trefor’s. Pete’s was expressionless, so was Adrian’s save for a glint of malice. David stared red-faced at his own hands, while Steve stared with a slight frown at mine.

  ‘The handiwork looks familiar,’ he said.

  ‘I got one of the nurses to dress it properly when I came in.’

  ‘Sit down and have a coffee,’ said Trefor. ‘You look as though you need it.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  There was silence while Tre
for made it for me, then Adrian got up and put his cup on the tray.

  ‘Don’t forget you’re going to show Tom the Issue programs this morning,’ Holly said to him.

  ‘Was I?’ He paused. ‘All right, bring him round in about ten minutes and I’ll see.’

  As he stalked out, David got up and followed him.

  ‘Trefor,’ said Steve as the door closed, you’re going to have to do something about that boy. The results from his lab are getting later and later.’

  ‘Oh? I haven’t heard anyone else complaining. Surely it would affect Holly more than you?’

  ‘It is getting worse, Trefor,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t know what’s got into him lately.’

  ‘We all had to start once,’ said Trefor. ‘Give him a chance to find his feet.’

  ‘He shouldn’t have got the job in the first place,’ Steve said irritably. ‘It should have been advertised.’

  ‘It was his last chance, I had to promote him. What with the baby coming—’

  ‘We’re here to provide blood, not jobs for the boys,’ interrupted Steve, ‘especially neurotic ones. What’s it going to be like when he starts testing for AIDS?’

  ‘I don’t think this is the place to discuss it,’ said Trefor primly as he stood up. ‘And I don’t think you’re being fair.’ He swept out.

  ‘I don’t think he liked that,’ said Pete from the depths of his beard. ‘Not in front of Tom, anyway.’

  ‘It’s true, though, isn’t it?’

  Pete shrugged and turned to me. ‘Think you’ve got us sussed out yet, Tom?’

  ‘I’m getting some ideas, yes.’

  ‘Don’t make the mistake of placing too much weight on superficial knowledge.’

  ‘I’ll try not to.’

  ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting to come and see what I do soon.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Your work obviously isn’t in the mainstream of the Centre, so I don’t think I need trouble you.’

  Steve chuckled. ‘I think that’s his way of saying “Up yours,” Pete.’

  Pete grinned unwillingly. ‘I took him to mean that he knew my work is out of his depth, and accordingly decided to leave it alone.’ He rose and carefully placed his cup on the tray before facing me again. ‘Actually, I hope you can find the time. My job is about saving lives. I’d like to demonstrate that point to you.’ He turned and left.