Bloodstains

by Andrew Puckett

  ‘And then there were three,’ murmured Steve. ‘You must think we’re like a Tom and Jerry cartoon, forgive the pun, with Uncle Tref trying to pour the soothing syrup over us.’

  ‘At least he tries, Steve, which is more than you do,’ said Holly.

  ‘I suppose so. He gets up my nose, though. I liked the way you handled Pete, Tom.’

  ‘Pete’s easily the cleverest of us,’ began Holly.

  ‘Maybe, but he has been getting at Tom.’

  ‘So, have we all,’ she flashed. ‘You not least.’

  ‘Ah, but I did it decently, behind his back. There is a difference, you know.’

  I said, ‘I wonder who “he” is? The cat’s father this time, I suppose.’

  They both looked at me in surprise, then I grinned to show them they could take it as a joke and they both laughed.

  A couple of minutes later Holly and I were walking to the Issue Room. She stopped suddenly in the middle of the corridor.

  ‘You know, there is one thing we’ve forgotten.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Having prepared myself for this meeting, I didn’t want to put if off.

  ‘We really must arrange for one of the nurses to bleed for you so that we can group-’

  ‘No!’ My back touched the wall.

  She looked at me oddly. ‘You really mean that, don’t you? What’s the matter, are you needle-shy?’

  I guessed what that meant and said yes.

  ‘Well, you’re not the only one,’ she said, and walked on.

  The Issue Office contained three people, two bored-looking girls and Adrian. He was poring over the calculator on his desk trying to add some figures, the stubby fingers of his other hand thrust through his coarse black hair. He appeared not to notice us.

  ‘Hello,’ said Holly. He looked up at her, not at me.

  ‘Right, you want to see how blood is issued.’ His eyes seemed to come to rest between us. ‘We’re about to issue some to Wyleford Hospital, so I’ll show you myself.’

  ‘Perhaps I could leave you to it,’ said Holly.

  ‘No!’ His negative was almost as strong as mine had been. ‘No, it won’t take long, and anyway, I might be called away…’

  She didn’t like it but didn’t say anything. I was glad; her presence might be an advantage.

  ‘This is an order.’ Adrian held up a form. ‘It was taken, as you see, over the ’phone by Kathy—’ he nodded at one of the girls — at ten o’clock. The non-urgent box is ticked, so it can go on the ordinary run. And here’s what they want, twelve ‘O’ Pos., three ‘O’ neg. And so on, about average for a small hospital.’ He sat down at a VDU.

  ‘What I do first is check with the computer that we have enough blood in stock. I know damn well we have, but still.’ His fingers rattled over the keyboard even faster than Holly’s and a list slid into view on the screen. ‘There, blood availability, and a recommendation of how we should fill the order. Since we’ve plenty in stock at the moment, it says that we can give them what they want, which is what I said in the first place.’

  ‘Is that normally the case?’ I asked.

  ‘Usually,’ he said tonelessly.

  He logged off the computer with unnecessary force and stood up. ‘So now we go and get it.’ We followed him into the smaller passage where the bank was. He picked up a crate from a stack and pulled a heavy door open. We followed him through the wash of cool air, my heart giving no more than a protesting flutter at the muted signal of the packs.

  As Adrian began sorting some of them into his crate, my eyes stole down to where the remnants of the chalk still clung.

  Was I with the killer at this moment? I didn’t think so, the case against Hill was too strong, but I could well be with his accomplice.

  The flapping noise as the packs fell together stopped; I looked up to find them both staring at me, Holly curiously and Adrian with a leaden intensity. I smiled back at them and after a moment Adrian continued.

  My eyes were drawn to the black hair on the backs of his hands. Was it he who had telephoned me? It hadn’t sounded like him. Or had it?

  This’ll do,’ he said, hefting the crate up with one knee. ‘Let’s get back to the office.’

  We dutifully followed.

  If it was him, then it had been a trap. Adrian wasn’t the sort to squeal and then change his mind. But why? To scare me?

  I could still feel the bruises as I walked, and my hand throbbed. A knot of anger tightened in my stomach as we arrived back at the Issue Room.

  He dumped the crate with a bang beside the VDU. ‘Next, I select the Issue Program.’ The keys rattled and the words ‘Blood Issue’ appeared on the screen.

  ‘I enter the date, the destination of the blood, and now, light-pen in each pack.’

  He did so, and as the light-pen slid across each bar code, its number flashed on to the screen.

  ‘And that’s all there is to it,’ he announced as he finished. ‘The computer now knows that this blood has gone to Wyleford Hospital.’

  ‘Is that the last that the computer hears of it?’

  Yes, unless it comes back unused.'

  ‘So, the computer doesn’t know its fate, what patient it goes into, or anything?’

  ‘Oh, come off it,’ he rasped. ‘That’s ridiculous, it would be impossible—’

  ‘That information is recorded at each hospital,’ Holly said quickly.

  ‘But the records don’t come here?’

  ‘No.’ said Adrian flatly.

  ‘What happens if the blood isn’t used at the hospital?’

  He drew a breath and swallowed. ‘It comes back here when it’s out of date, it’s light-penned back into the computer, and if it’s still got plasma, that’s harvested and made into other products.’

  ‘What happens to the rest?’

  ‘It gets chucked.’

  ‘Oh really? I thought every donation was supposed to be used.’

  Holly jumped in. ‘So it is,’ she said hotly. ‘At least some of every donation is used. There has to be a slight excess to cover emergencies.’

  ‘OK, I accept that. How many come back with plasma still on them?’

  ‘What’s this got to do with work study?’ said Adrian between his teeth.

  I smiled at him. ‘Just trying to get the picture.’

  Holly said quietly, ‘At least half our blood has the plasma taken off immediately and frozen, to be sent away to make Factor VIII.’

  ‘We get very little plasma back, as it happens,’ Adrian s voice was back under control. ‘Not that much blood is returned anyway, the local hospitals are better with their housekeeping now.’

  ‘So, you only light-pen back into the computer the very little returned blood that still does have any plasma?’ He nodded. ‘So, in effect there’s no real record of what has actually happened to the blood—’

  ‘And I don’t see how it concerns—’

  ‘As I’ve said,’ I cut in sharply, ‘my brief is to see how your work-patterns fit in with the computer, so I want to know everything about—’

  ‘Well, now you do, so that finishes your business here, doesn’t it?’ A fleck of spray from his lips touched my cheek.

  ‘Not quite. What about records, written records of donations before you had the computer?’

  ‘Oh, sure, sure!’ He sprang to a cupboard and yanked open the door to reveal a row of black ledgers

  ‘There!’ He pulled one out and flung it down on the desk in front of me. ‘You can go through every bloody one for all I care.’

  ‘Stop this, you two!’ shouted Holly. The mouths of the office girls hung open in disbelief. ‘Tom, we’re going back to my lab, now.’

  I shrugged and followed her as she click-clacked furiously down the corridor. Just outside her door, she turned to me.

  ‘I know Adrian is difficult,’ she said in a low intense voice, ‘but you were deliberately provoking him. Why?’

  ‘I was simply trying to get the information—’

 
‘You were being deliberately provocative. Why?’

  ‘He gets on my tits, that’s why.’

  ‘Well, you get on mine.’ This was a time when I should have kept a straight face. Unfortunately, I didn’t. And if you think I’m seeing you tonight after this,’ she hissed, ‘you can think again.’ She turned and marched into her laboratory.

  I stood in the corridor for a moment, naked and foolish. My heart was still beating violently, and my head began to ache. Then I remembered Chalgrove’s instruction to see him.

  He was in his office. He looked up from his desk and grinned when he saw me, prodded my head a few times and asked a few questions.

  ‘Well, I think you can come off the critical list now,’ he said in the mocking way I was becoming used to. ‘Any idea yet who did it?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘What, no guilty looks, no eyes unable to meet yours?’

  ‘Give it time,’ I said, grinning back.

  Then I went to find Trefor, and arranged with him to show me the plasma laboratory that afternoon.

  I felt sorry about the quarrel with Holly. She was right, I had deliberately provoked Adrian. But it was worth it, the Issue system was full of loopholes that he might have been able to cover up otherwise.

  The canteen was already crowded. I looked round for somewhere to sit amid the busy chatter and my eyes fell on Steve’s blonde head. He and Pete were avidly discussing something. Join them? No, I wanted to think — but Steve had seen me and was beckoning.

  So, you’ve decided to try a culinary adventure,’ he said, as I sat down.

  ‘Culinary misadventure,’ grunted Pete. ‘I’d put you down as a pub man,’ he said to me.

  ‘I am, but the nearest is miles away.’

  ‘A quarter of a mile, to be exact. And there’s always the bar here.’

  ‘Didn’t know there was one.’

  ‘How’s the job coming along?’ asked Steve.

  ‘Pretty well, thanks.’ I gave up fumbling with the cutlery and transferred the fork to my right hand.

  ‘Painful?’

  ‘A bit. Just awkward, really.’

  I took a mouthful of food and looked up to find Pete regarding me intently. His eyes were grey and bright with an intelligence emphasized by his high forehead.

  ‘Holly was telling me about your — er-equivocal views on computers.’

  ‘It’s not so much computers, more the attitudes of the people who use them. Computers are potentially man’s most useful tool.’

  ‘But vulnerable to human error.’

  ‘Error and abuse, yes,’ I met the clear grey eyes. ‘That’s why I’m here.’

  He smiled faintly. ‘Interesting. You know, you should consider calling yourself a “Computer Study Officer” — might gain you a little more sympathy.’

  ‘Unfortunately, it’s out of my hands.’

  ‘Ah.’ He placed his knife and fork together neatly on his plate and finished his glass of water. ‘Well, must be off.’ He glanced at Steve as he stood up, obviously expecting to be accompanied, but Steve, who had also finished, smiled and said, ‘See you later, then.’

  ‘Pete’s a good bloke,’ he continued as soon as he was out of earshot.

  ‘I never doubted it.’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ He looked at me sharply. His eyes were a piercing blue.

  ‘It doesn’t really matter. You’re the level I must work with.’

  ‘How d’you mean?’

  ‘Well, the Director spoke to me from a great height before passing me to the Deputy Director who spoke from a slightly lesser height and passed me to Trefor who was almost right, and—’

  ‘And now you’ve sunk to the right level,’ He grinned.

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘What did you make of the Director?

  ‘One of the Old School?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  ‘He must he pushing seventy, how come he’s still working?’

  ‘Good question. He did actually retire, from one of the northern Centres. Then to everyone’s surprise, he turned up here.’

  ‘How long ago was that?’

  ‘Oh, must have been nearly four years ago. We couldn’t understand why he wanted to go on working, assumed he wanted to eat his cake and have it. You know, live in a nice part of the country without having to give up his authority. They hate not being in charge of something, medical directors.’

  ‘So, it wasn’t a popular decision down here?’

  ‘Not really, no.’ He hesitated. ‘It was the wrong decision. We already had a superbly qualified younger man on the spot.’

  ‘Chalgrove?’

  ‘Precisely. A proven administrator as well as having done brilliant work in the haemophilia field.’

  I stiffened imperceptibly. ‘Perhaps he was too young.’

  Steve shrugged. ‘He was the right man. Still is.’

  ‘Won’t he get it when Falkenham retires?’

  ‘Not if Falkenham can help it. Besides, sometimes I think the old vulture’s going to be here for ever.’

  I chuckled. ‘Good description, but he did strike me as being dedicated to his work.’

  ‘Perhaps he was, once. Now, he’s just dedicated to himself, his ego. He can’t bear the idea of not being in charge.’

  ‘Those are rather hard words.’

  Steve thought for a moment. ‘Perhaps I’m being bitter. I’m dedicated, believe it or not, at least I was. When the last Director retired, I really hoped that the Centre would take off, and Chalgrove was the man who could have done it. We don’t need a caretaker.’

  ‘Where does he come from — Chalgrove? He’s not local, is he?’

  ‘London, I think. I know he spent some time at St Mary’s, Paddington.’

  ‘What did you mean just now when you said that he wouldn’t get the job if Falkenham could help it?’

  ‘They can’t stand the sight of each other.’ I waited for him to continue. ‘It was bad enough being passed over, but Falkenham won’t leave him in peace.’ He leaned forward. ‘Chalgrove was doing some brilliant original work in Factor VIII production, that’s—’

  ‘I know what it is.’

  ‘Well, Falkenham more or less ordered him to drop it and work on one of his own pet theories instead.’

  ‘Irritating.’

  ‘Humiliating. Anyway, I’ve said more than enough. Let’s go back.’ He rose abruptly and took his tray to one of the waiting racks. I had finished some minutes before, but had remained sitting, hoping to hear more. I decided to risk pumping him.

  ‘It’s amazing how the attitudes at the top filter down through the levels,’ I said as I caught up to him. ‘I’ve seen it so many times before. How did Trefor take Falkenham’s coming here?’

  ‘Oh, he just accepted it, like he accepts everything.’

  ‘Not much else he could do, I suppose.’

  ‘Not about the appointment, no, but between them, they’re a blob of inertia covering the place, strangling it.’ We were in the space-tunnel now, and his strong mobile face moved impatiently in the weird green light. ‘Let me give you an example. A few months ago, the senior position in the Hepatitis Lab became vacant. An area that’s gaining importance, especially with AIDS testing coming, it needs someone who knows what they’re doing. So, what does Trefor do?’ He held out his palm. ‘He hands it on a plate to David, because he feels sorry for him. Poor David, he says, one kid already and another on the way, we must help him. So, he gives it to David, and Falkenham let him do it. Don Chalgrove would never have allowed that, he’d have held interviews and picked the best person for the job.’

  We stopped by the door that led down to the Centre.

  ‘Is AIDS going to be that much of a problem?’ I asked.

  ‘You bet, it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to the Service. Sure, other diseases are transmitted by transfusion, hepatitis for instance, but none of them are so resistant to treatment or so uniformly fatal as AIDS.’

  I lo
oked up at him curiously. ‘It’s not that common, though is it?’

  ‘Not yet, no, but it will be. In Uganda it’s called Slim Disease and they’re dying like flies. Something like a quarter of them carry the virus, that’s men and women, so it’s not just gays and junkies spreading it among themselves. If that starts happening here, then we’re in real trouble. We’re due to start testing every donation this autumn, but it needs someone good to be doing it — not David.’

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’

  ‘You’ve seen him, he’s a tosser. He was no damn good as Mike Leigh’s deputy, he’s even worse now.’ He paused reflectively. ‘The trouble is, he thinks the rest of us owe him a living, thinks we’re being unfair for drawing attention to his shortcomings—’ He broke off. ‘But you’re not interested in all our tittle-tattle, surely?’

  ‘Yes, I am, I’ve found before that apparent faults in a computer system are really due to the tension between its operatives.’

  He nodded slowly, so I risked going a little further.

  ‘Adrian for instance, is perhaps the main user of the system, and he seems filled with resentment about something.’

  Steve grinned, ‘You’ve noticed, then. He’s resentful all right. He couldn’t pass his exams, and the only way up was to take the Blood Issue job. He feels inferior because his job’s clerical rather than scientific—’ He stopped. ‘Look, I must be getting back.’

  He told me how to find the library, then clattered down the stairs.

  The only sounds were the turning of a page or the scratch of a pencil. People sprawled over the books on pine desks desperately trying to imbibe knowledge; one had fallen asleep, head resting on the open pages, perhaps in the hope that the contents would leach into his brain.

  I found a place, sat down and made a plan of the computer system. Sat and considered it.

  The Issue side was full of loopholes.

  For instance, there was nothing to stop Adrian telling the computer that he had issued twenty units to XYZ, when he in fact only sent ten. The computer would assume that they had all been used when in fact they had been put aside for Hill to sort out and despatch during the night. Yes! Hill would have been the perfect accomplice, until he turned killer.