Trauma (36 page)

The man frowned and asked, 'Who did you say you were here for?'

'Keegan,' replied Main, suddenly deciding to go for broke and improvise. 'Martin Keegan.'

'And you say he died in the hospital?'

'Yes.'

'Then why should he be here and not in the hospital mortuary?'

'He had to have some monitoring apparatus removed from him. Sigma probes, I think they were called,' said Main, wondering who his questioner was. His dress and confident manner of speech suggested medical staff. A pathologist perhaps.

'Ah, Sigma probes,' exclaimed the man. 'That explains it. He'll probably still be up in the Sigma lab. They haven't brought him down yet.'

'I see,' said Main. 'Perhaps I could go up there?'

'I don't see why not,' replied the well dressed man. 'Do you know where it is?'

Main said not and was given directions. He had just repeated them back to the man when the attendant who had gone up to the office returned. Main knew he had to get in first. He said brightly, 'Problem solved. This gentleman has been kind enough to work out what has happened. I'm sorry to have put you to all this trouble. The attendant looked at the well dressed man and said, 'Good morning sir.'

'Good Morning Claude,' replied the man. 'This chap's been looking for a Sigma patient Claude. He's probably still upstairs.'

'Should have said,' said Claude dourly.

'I'm sorry,' said Main. 'Thoughtless of me. I'll be on my way then.' He left the mortuary, pausing for a moment outside to try to hear if anything more was being said. He couldn't hear. The door was too thick. He just had to hope that the different patient names he had used weren't being compared.

Main realised that he could not use the body measuring ruse to gain access to the Sigma lab. The Sigma technicians must supply that information to the undertakers; they could hardly have outsiders arriving to measure non existent bodies. He would have to find some other way of getting inside.

Main found the building he had been sent to. It was a modern three storey concrete block growing out of an older blackened stone one. There was a board about twenty metres from the glass fronted entrance which announced it to be the Gelman Holland Research Institute. The text below explained that it was a joint venture between Gelman Holland and the Department of Health. The director was Professor Cyril Tyndall and the building had been opened on June seventh 1991 by a member of the royal family. There was a photograph of the ribbon cutting ceremony. None of this helped Main to think of an excuse for getting inside.

He found a place where he could watch comings and goings from the building without drawing attention to himself and did not have long to wait. In the space of the following ten minutes three people entered the building. Two used an electronic card key which they inserted in a slot by the front door. A third person did not have such a key. He pressed a bell and waited until the doors were opened by a man in uniform. After close scrutiny of a document he presented he was permitted to enter. No way there, thought Main.

Having given up on a frontal assault, Main walked round the outside of the building at a discreet distance, looking for alternatives. He thought he had found one when he saw a side door open and a technician come out to put a large cardboard box in a rubbish skip. To make sure that he could get back inside, the man had propped open the door with a wooden wedge. Main was beginning to think of sneaking in when the man came out with the next load but there was no next time. It was a one off. The door swung shut and the lock engaged with a loud clunk.

Main cursed under his breath and continued with his search. There was one more door at the far side but it too was locked with no outside handles visible. After a further ten minutes he was considering giving up when he saw a van arrive outside the building. It had the name of a laboratory supplier on the side. The driver, obviously a stranger to the site, took a slow drive round the perimeter of the building before getting out to press the bell at the front door. He presented his delivery notes to the uniformed man who opened it.

After cursory scrutiny the driver was directed to the far side. Main saw this as his chance and circled round to be there before the van reversed back, its reverse gear bleeper warning of its approach. He watched as the driver waited for the door to be unlocked.

Once again his delivery notes were examined, this time by a man wearing a brown coat and sporting an Elvis Presley style haircut which seemed to be excessively greased even from where Main was standing. The storeman, as Main took him to be, pointed to the inside of the building and made a gesture to his right. The driver nodded and opened up the back of the van while the storeman returned inside.

The driver disappeared inside the van for a moment before re-appearing to pile up boxes along the rear of the vehicle. When he had ten arranged along the back edge, he jumped down and carried the first two inside. Main's pulse rate rose. Could he risk it? Could he just nip over to the van and start carrying the next two inside? By the time he had decided that this was what he would do too much time had elapsed and he steeled himself to wait for the driver's next trip. As soon the man had started off inside with the next two boxes, Main broke cover and ran over to the van on his toes. He picked up two of the boxes marked, FRAGILE, laboratory glassware, in red, and walked in through the open doors, noting that there was a FIRE RELEASE bar on the back of one of them; there would be no problem getting back out again. He was just in time to see the driver disappear round to the right at the end of the corridor.

Half way along and still unchallenged, Main found a flight of steps to his left. The fates were being kind; he put down the boxes about twenty metres past the foot of the steps ran back to start climbing. With a bit of luck the driver would think that some helpful member of staff had given him a hand.

Main realised that he would now have to rely on the briefcase he was carrying to give him the apparent authority to be there. He was now in the first floor corridor. Glass panelled doors to the left and right of him enabled him to see that they were laboratories. White coated workers sat on stools at benches, intent on what they were doing. One looked up as Main was looking in. Their eyes met but the man showed no signs of alarm at Main being there. After all, why should he? Main reminded himself. This was a medical research lab not a secret nuclear weapons facility. He was there to look for two rogue technicians in an otherwise highly respected institution. What he needed was some kind of a sign board; he found what he was looking for at the landing of the stairs leading down to the main entrance. Unfortunately none of the directions on it were helpful simply because there was no mention of the word SIGMA and, not being a scientist, he didn't know what alternative heading the Sigma probe service might come under. Would it be, Tissue Culture’ or Stock Virus Laboratory or Prep Room or CSSD? He was wondering where to try next when he became aware of footsteps on the stairs. Someone was coming up from the ground floor. Main felt a momentary panic as he looked about him for some place to hide. There was nowhere. He considered bolting up the stairs to the next level but then decided against it. He would stand and brass it out. He turned his back on the stairs and opened his brief case; he pretended to be searching for something inside it as he heard the steps behind him get louder. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a white coated figure pass him and move away along the corridor to the left. He was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the figure stopped and turned. 'Can I help you?' asked a male voice in tones that suggested that the real question was, who are you and why are you here?

Main gave a slight laugh which sounded terribly forced and said, 'I seem to have lost my bearings. I was looking for the Sigma probe lab.'

'The Sigma lab?' repeated the man who had come back along the corridor to stand directly in front of Main. Main noticed that his accent and tanned skin colour suggested that he might be Middle Eastern. 'What on earth do you want there?'

'My company manufactures the probes,' lied Main. 'I thought as I was in the neighbourhood I would call in and see if there were any problems.'

The man looked doubtful; he looked down at Main's brief case and then back up at him. He said, 'The Sigma Lab is in the basement. How could you possibly "lose your bearings" and end up here. Who let you in?'

The game was slipping away from Main rapidly. His impulse was to push the man out the road and make a run for it but he doubted that he would be able to get out of the building in time. Apart from that he had no wish to assault an innocent man doing his job; neither did he want to end up in jail over this. He decided to go on with his implausible story. 'No one actually. The door was open when I arrived so I just walked in. As there was no one about, I started looking for directions and ended up here.' He gestured to the direction board.

Again the man looked doubtful. 'The door was open you say?'

'Yes,' replied Main.

'Come with me.'

The man started back down the stairs with Main following along behind. He thought how easy it would be to push him in the back and take to his heels but again baulked at the consequences. At the foot of the stairs was the main entrance hall. A woman sat behind the reception desk and two uniformed security men were talking by the door.

'Jean, did you leave your desk unattended at any time in the last half hour?

The woman looked at her questioner and then at Main. She replied, 'I don't think so Dr Salman.'

The man summoned the two security men over and said, 'This man says that he just walked into the building. Is that possible?'

'No sir,' replied one of the men. The other just shook his head.

Salman turned to face Main again. 'Well?' he asked.

Main smiled and tried his last bluff. He turned to one of the security men and said, 'You were there all right. You were outside giving directions to a delivery driver. I just walked in behind your back. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong. Unfortunately there was no one at the desk I could ask for directions.'

Salman looked back to the woman sitting behind the desk. She shrugged uncomfortably and said, 'Maybe I went to the toilet. I can't remember exactly.'

Main felt relief flood through him but it was short lived. The other security man said, 'But I would have seen him.'

Main had no answer to that but the man's colleague suddenly said, 'You went to put the kettle on while I spoke to the driver. Remember?'

'Oh yeah,' replied the man sheepishly. Main could hardly believe his luck.

Salman said to the three employees, 'We are trying to run a research institute where cleanliness and sterility are of the highest importance and yet apparently anyone can wander in here off the street!

All three looked down at their feet.

'It won't happen again sir,' said one of the security men.

'It had better not,' said Salman. 'Now, Mr?'

'Main.' Main had little heart for continuing the charade.

'I'll call the Sigma people for you.' Salman leaned over the reception desk and picked up the phone. He punched in four numbers and waited.

'Mr Mace? It's Dr Salman. I have a man up here who says he's from the company that manufactures the Sigma probes. Would you come up here and have a word with him please?'

Main watched as Salman replaced the phone. 'Thanks,' he said, feeling like a brave criminal of yore thanking his executioner. He did not have long to wait before two men appeared in Reception. Both wore white tunics and trousers with the Gelman Holland logo above their left breast and below it their names, Mace and Pallister.

'Your card?' asked Mace.

'I'm sorry, 'I've run out. I keep meaning to tell the office,' replied Main. He didn't bother to smile this time. He was wondering if he was looking at the two men who had abducted his son's body.

'What company did you say you were from?' asked Mace, exchanging a doubting look with Pallister.

'Main Electronics,' said Main.

'How come we've never heard of you?' asked Pallister.

'The probes are made up by our research division. They don't carry our trademark yet. They're still under test you might say.'

Mace looked at Pallister who shrugged and said, 'I thought Professor Tyndall's people made them up themselves.'

'So did I,' said Mace suspiciously. Wait there.'

Main had to wait once again while the reception phone was used.

'Dr Sotillo? It's Mace her sir. Would you come up to Reception for a moment sir?'

Main felt uneasy even fearful but his one crumb of comfort lay in the fact that they had not moved from the Reception area and it was public. The opposition could not afford to do anything too awful to him here. A tall, distinguished looking man arrived in Reception and looked at Main as if he was something nasty on the pavement. He stood on the other side of the hall while Mace whispered an explanation to him. When he'd finished Sotillo came over to Main and said, 'The probes are made up here in the medical school. Who the hell are you?

Main did not reply.

'He says his name is Main,' said Salman.

Main thought he saw a flicker of recognition in Sotillo's eyes. 'Does he indeed,' said Sotillo softly.