Chameleon (34 page)

In a search for alternative theories, Jamieson considered the possibility that the saline had been interfered with while it had lain in storage in Gynaecology. Was it even conceivable that the contaminated saline had been some awful legacy from Thelwell? Could he have infected it before he died? It had simply not been used at the time? Jamieson checked the dates of sterilization and delivery to the Department. It gave him a clear answer. It was not possible. Thelwell had already been dead for two days when the saline was sterilised and delivered to gynaecology. If it had been contaminated in the stores Thelwell had certainly not done it.

Jamieson turned his attention to the preliminary report on the new infection and decided that he needed to find out more about the organism. He went into one of the neighbouring labs and asked one of the technicians for some reference literature. The man reached up to the book shelf behind him and brought down a copy of McLennan's Microbiology in Medicine. 'You'll probably find all you want to know in here,' he said, handing it over.

'I'll bring it right back,' said Jamieson.

'No hurry.'

Jamieson checked the index and flicked through the pages to find what he was looking for.

" PROTEUS: - A Gram negative, non lactose fermenting organism often found in sewage, soil and manure. Commonly implicated in urinary tract infections but also found in other, often more serious, infections. Named after the Greek sea god, Proteus because of a tendency to display a variety of changing cultural characteristics."

The section went on to list the cultural and biochemical details of the organism. This was followed by a section on the treatment of the organism. Four antibiotics of choice were listed. Jamieson noted that the current hospital strain had already been shown to be immune to all of them. He was trying to recall what he knew about Proteus in Greek mythology when his bleeper went off; it was Chief Inspector Ryan.

'I heard you were back,' said Ryan. 'Perhaps I could have a word?'

'Of course,' replied Jamieson. 'I'll be in the lab for a while yet. Come on over.'

Ryan arrived within fifteen minutes and the two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Jamieson asked, 'How has the investigation been going?'

The policeman shrugged and said, 'If you mean have we been able to pin the ripper murders on Thelwell posthumously the answer is no. We still don't have one single piece of evidence to link him conclusively with the killings. But I understand you have got problems too?'

'The post-operative infections have started up again and we don't know why,' said Jamieson.

'And it can't have anything to do with Gordon Thomas Thelwell this time?' said Ryan.

'No,' replied Jamieson. 'That fact has not escaped me. Did you have any luck with the dates of Thelwell's choir practice nights?'

'We didn't come up with a perfect match of dates,' said Ryan. 'A couple of the murders were committed on nights when Thelwell did not have a practice but on the other hand he was out of the house.'

'Did you manage to trace his movements?'

'We did,' said Ryan. 'He was attending functions in the city on both these nights.'

'And?'

'He did attend,' said Ryan.

'So he couldn't have done the killings on these nights?' said Jamieson.

Ryan smiled and said, 'Unfortunately we can't say that. It would have been possible for him to slip away long enough to do them. Both venues were in range of the murder locations. Thirty minutes absence would have been sufficient. We can't prove that he did do this but we can't show that he didn't. It's all a bit inconclusive.'

I take it Thelwell did not own or rent a flat in the building I followed him to in the city?'

The policeman shook his head, 'Unfortunately not. We checked out all seven apartments, interviewed their owners and tenants but there was no connection with Thelwell that we could establish. I would have told you sooner but we had to wait for one of the owners to return from abroad to be sure. I just got the report this morning.' Ryan illustrated his point by showing Jamieson a folded piece of paper.

'Pity,' said Jamieson. 'So we still have no idea what he was doing down there that night.'

'None.'

'Maybe it's difficult looking for logical behaviour from a deranged mind?' suggested Jamieson.

'You can say that again,' said Ryan. 'Nutters are a police nightmare. They have no form and often no motive apart from some vague crusade that makes sense to them. By nature they tend to be loners so there's no family or friends to shop them. And above all else, they are clever.'

'Clever?'

'They are cunning and devious; they enjoy what they see as a contest, a game, a battle of wits. Ironically, it's that that usually leads to their downfall. Eventually they become too arrogant; they get over-confident, push their luck too far and that's when they slip up and we get them. But waiting for that to happen stretches everyone's nerves to breaking point.'

'I see what you mean,' said Jamieson.

'I would have thought that we would have had a note by now but nothing as yet.'

'What sort of note?'

'Psychos like to have a dialogue with the police. They like to give us little hints and clues so that we can get closer but not too close of course. They get some kind of kick out of it. It adds excitement to the game.'

'I hope you get him soon,' said Jamieson.

'We'll get him all right,' said Ryan. 'But I wouldn't like my salary to ride on it being soon. There could be a lot more heartache in this city before that happens.'

'What about the other head case?' asked Jamieson.

'The other one?'

'The man who kidnapped my wife?'

Ryan said, 'No joy there either. It looks like a one-off thing and we don't even have a motive for the crime. Have you come up with anything yourself?'

Jamieson said not. 'Sue came back up with me,' he added.

'I didn't realise that,' said Ryan, his face showing surprise. 'Would you like an eye kept on her?'

'Unobtrusively,' said Jamieson.

'I'll see to it.'

Jamieson made a mental note to tell Sue and shook hands with Ryan as the policeman got up to go.

Jamieson was pondering on what he should do next when a piece of paper lying on the end of his desk caught his eye. He remembered Ryan putting it down there after he had taken it out of his pocket. Jamieson picked it up and read it. He recalled now what Ryan had said it was. It was the transcript of an interview with the last of the apartment owners to be questioned, the one who had been abroad.

The woman's apartment had been unoccupied for the entire month she had been abroad in Tenerife. There was nothing remarkable in that or in any of the answers but Jamieson found his heart thumping and his skin prickling as he read the name of the owner at the end of the report. It said, Jennifer Blaney!

It was too much of a coincidence, Jamieson decided. Blaney was not that common a name. There just had to be a connection between Jennifer Blaney and Charge Nurse Blaney who ran the Central Sterile Supply Department at Kerr Memorial. Jamieson thought about Blaney and with each passing moment he felt more and more as if he was opening a Pandora's Box. Blaney had been hostile to him when he had inquired about Thelwell's interest in CSSD but he had assumed at the time that it was just professional resentment on Blaney's part. He had not considered that there might be some kind of relationship between Blaney and Thelwell. It still seemed rather ridiculous but then he was only familiar with the public persona of both men.

Jamieson was musing about it when another thought brought ice to his spine. Blaney was a large, well built man. The man who had abducted Sue had been a large, well built man. Blaney was the only large well built man he knew in Leeds.

Jamieson's pulse rate started to rise as he saw how certain facts might fit together. If there had been some 'association' between Blaney and Thelwell, however unlikely this might seem, then it was just possible that Blaney might hold him personally responsible for Thelwell's death. If this was so he had uncovered a possible motive for Sue's kidnapping. Revenge, the man had said. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A lover for a lover?

Jamieson called the front office and asked for Chief Inspector Ryan. He was told that Ryan had just left. He put down the receiver and rested his hand on it while he thought it through. Adrenalin was coursing through his veins and a maelstrom of ideas and motives was swirling inside his head as he saw himself on the very brink of solving the whole affair.

Blaney was in charge of CSSD. That gave him every opportunity to interfere with sterilised packs of instruments, dressings or whatever. Maybe he was a willing accomplice to Thelwell? That would explain how the dressings and the saline could have been contaminated after apparently having been properly sterilised. Blaney could have contaminated the packs before distribution to the wards! Or maybe it was just Blaney all the time? Maybe Thelwell had had nothing whatever to do with the infections!

Jamieson's mind was running on overdrive. He needed something to slow him down and he found it when he tried to work out how Blaney could have gotten hold of the deadly organisms to carry out the contaminating procedures? Jamieson's theory ground to a halt as he failed to solve this part of the puzzle. But one thing was for sure, he had some questions for Mr Blaney to answer and if it should turn out that Blaney was responsible for what had happened to Sue there was a personal score to settle.

Jamieson knew that he was doing the wrong thing in deciding to tackle Blaney on his own. He knew that emotional involvement was not a sensible basis for action and what he should be doing was waiting for Ryan to turn up so that he could be presented with all the facts. Despite all this, he found the personal motive too strong. He got up from his desk, put on his jacket and set off for CSSD.

Jamieson marched towards CSSD with cold determination. He thought about what Sue had suffered and of the baby they both had lost. He had no real idea what he was going to say to Blaney but this did not make him alter his pace at all. He pushed open both swing doors and entered the steamy heat of the approach corridor.

The preparation benches where the attendants packed instruments were deserted. Jamieson looked at his watch and saw that it was lunch time. Perhaps Blaney would be out at lunch too. He walked past the row of gleaming sterilisers and up to the door of Blaney's office. He pushed open the door.

Blaney was sitting there, eating sandwiches. He stopped as he saw Jamieson, a sandwich suspended in mid air between his desk and his mouth. His eyes displayed a mixture of disbelief and surprise as he saw Jamieson standing there. 'Yes?'

Jamieson just stared at Blaney. He was picturing him with a wig and false moustache. He looked at the fat podgy hand that had slid under Sue's skirt with the object of increasing her terror and it had.

'What do you want?' stammered Blaney.

Jamieson could read the guilt on Blaney's face and he felt the anger rise inside him. 'You bastard!' he said with cold deliberation.

Blaney had started to get up slowly from his chair and back away but there was nowhere for him to go. 'What are you talking about?' he said as he looked out of the corner of his eyes for an escape route.

'It's over, Blaney. But before the police can have you I want a piece of you for what you did to Sue.'

Blaney stopped all pretence of innocence. His bottom lip quivered. .'You killed Gordon Thelwell!' he accused, 'You drove him to it! You hounded him until he took his own life. You killed him! You are responsible! He meant everything to me and you took him away. You deserved to suffer! You deserved to go through what I went through.'

Fired by his own rhetoric, Blaney threw the contents of the coffee cup he was holding directly into Jamieson's face. The coffee wasn’t very hot but the liquid temporarily blinded Jamieson and Blaney took the opportunity to rush past him to the door.

Jamieson stuck out his foot and Blaney crashed headlong out of the door into the sterilising hall. But by the time Jamieson had cleared his eyes and could see properly again Blaney was back up on his feet and had picked up a steel dish full of instruments lying in antiseptic solution.

Jamieson put up his hands to protect himself as a hail of scalpels and forceps flew through the air towards him. Several small cuts opened up on the backs of his hands and on his scalp but he ignored them as he again moved towards Blaney. He stopped when he saw that Blaney had picked up a post-mortem knife. Jamieson found himself mesmerised by the long blade which swept out from the black, bone handle held tightly in Blaney's fist.

The fact that Jamieson had stopped in his tracks gave Blaney a surge of confidence. He gave a half smile and said breathily, 'Come on then Dr bloody smart-arse Jamieson. What are you waiting for? Changed our tune, have we?'

Jamieson had indeed changed his tune. The folly of his angry headstrong action in confronting Blaney alone had now come home to roost. He stared at the razor sharp blade in Blaney's hand, a blade that was no stranger to the insides of a human being.

'Who did it Blaney?' he croaked. 'Who contaminated the instruments and the dressings and the saline? You? Or was it Thelwell? Maybe it was both of you? You sick bastard.'

A look of puzzlement crossed Blaney's face. 'What the hell are you talking about?' he demanded.

'Is that how you two got your kicks? A couple of old queens against a world of women eh?'

'You're mad,' said Blaney. He lunged at Jamieson with the knife. It was the angry reaction that Jamieson had been goading him into. Jamieson side-stepped smartly and grabbed at Blaney's knife arm as he lost balance. He twisted Blaney's arm up his back but Blaney remained upright as Jamieson tried to break his grip on the knife.

Jamieson was concentrating too hard on the knife to be prepared for Blaney's sudden drop to the floor. With his centre of gravity undermined it was all too easy for Blaney to tumble Jamieson over his shoulder and send him sliding across the tiles to crash into a table by the wall. The table was knocked over and steel dishes fell to the floor as Jamieson struggled to regain orientation.