Bloodstains

by Andrew Puckett

  He regarded me quizzically. ‘I’d have thought you would be the first to know that. Something like a thousand donations of blood go into a single hatch. If any one of the donors has hepatitis, or as we now know, AIDS, then the whole lot is infectious. And I don’t need to remind you that American donors have a much higher prevalence of these things than we do — certain people in the States are prepared to pay an awful lot for British Factor VIII.’

  ‘Anyway, when I thought about Falkenham, I changed my mind. We began production very slowly about two years ago and gradually worked it up, substituting Time-expired plasma for fresh. I don’t think CPPL have noticed once, have they, Steve?’

  Steve shook his head, he was looking bored and sulky again.

  I said, ‘How much have you actually made?’

  ‘Factor VIII, or loot?’

  ‘Both.’

  ‘We can make a hundred vials of freeze-dried concentrate in a night. We’ve been doing this on average once a week, so I suppose about ten thousand vials.’

  ‘That must be worth a quarter of a million.’

  ‘He’s fast, isn’t he?’ Chalgrove said to Steve. ‘However, you’re forgetting that our preparation contains more than double the factor—’

  ‘You made half a million?’ I said incredulously.

  ‘No, you were right the first time, a quarter. It was the best price we could get. But we digress. Our operation went very smoothly, until a few months ago, when we ran into a problem. A shortage of Time-expired plasma. We couldn’t understand it. Steve investigated and unearthed the sordid little plot of Leigh, Hill and Brown. It was a severe problem, the last thing we wanted to do was to alert them to our operation, and yet they had to be stopped. It wasn’t just the shortage of plasma; they were bound to be caught sooner or later. Then there would have been a real tightening up of the system, and that would have starved us of plasma. Then we discovered they were taking fresh plasma as well.

  ‘We formed a plan. Steve befriended Brown, whom he quickly discovered was even more unstable and dangerous than we had realized, but he did find out all he needed to know about their conspiracy. We agreed that the best way to stop them was to frighten Leigh, the others didn’t count.’

  ‘I tackled him, told him that we knew everything and that it would have to be reported. He positively gibbered with terror, said he’d do anything if I let him off. When I informed him that, provided he stopped what he was doing, I wouldn’t report him, he was pathetically grateful. However, to reinforce the lesson, I concocted the letter from the indignant char and sent it to Hannibal House. Nothing like a visit from a department inspector to put the fear of God into him.’

  Chalgrove spread his palms. ‘I was wrong. A week later, he told me he had something to show me that evening. He was so sure of himself that I guessed we were in for trouble but thought I could bluff my way out of it, scare him with the letter. Again, I was wrong. He’d worked out exactly what we were doing, and he wasn’t interested in blackmail, or even coming in with us. He intended to take the operation over, make it even more profitable, as he put it.’

  Chalgrove’s voice began to shake slightly with emotion as he remembered.

  ‘His arrogance was incredible. He said that I had more to lose and had better go along with him. When I told him that I’d rather give myself up than adopt his idea, he laughed as though it were a joke. He had no caution or scruples whatsoever.’

  ‘He was…’ His eyes twisted away, searching for words. ‘He was like a fox in a henhouse who has eaten all he needs yet goes on killing until every last hen is dead.

  And makes so much noise doing it that the farmer is waiting outside with his shotgun. That was Mike Leigh.’

  And not the only one, I thought, glancing at Steve.

  ‘I explained patiently why we couldn’t do as he asked. I offered him a share and d’you know what he did? D’you know?’

  The question wasn’t rhetorical. ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll never forget it.’ His eyes were faraway. ‘We were in the Plasma Lab, next to the nitrogen cylinder. He told me, quite pleasantly, to shut up and do as I was told. He reached out and tweaked the lobe of my ear, quite painfully. He said he would sleep on it and tell me what he had decided in the morning. Then he walked away, chuckling to himself.’

  ‘I suppose I knew what I was doing, I don’t know. I just picked up the spanner and hit him. He died instantly. I don’t know what made me do it, but I dragged him through into the Blood Bank, wiped the spanner clean and went to phone Steve.’

  ‘You panicked,’ said Steve.

  ‘Yes, I suppose I did. Anyway, Steve wasn’t in. I realized I couldn’t leave Leigh where he was and went back. I heard Hill scream and drop the spanner and run. For a crazy moment I ran after him, then stopped. It was obvious he would get the police. There was only one thing I could do, go home, prepare my story and look surprised the next day. If I’d just kept my head…’

  I shifted in my seat to ease the cramp and the noise broke the deep silence.

  ‘What happened then?’ I said.

  He sighed deeply.

  ‘Well, the next day there were police all over the place. Everyone was questioned, including me, by that police sergeant, the ferrety one—’

  ‘Bennett,’ I said.

  ‘That’s right, Bennett. Well, later in the afternoon, the three of us, Bennett, myself and the Director were discussing how to handle the situation when there was a telephone call and the Director was told of the probability that blood had been stolen from the Centre. He immediately leapt to the conclusion that Hill had been doing the stealing and had killed Leigh. I pretended doubt, which convinced him more than ever of his own genius, and Bennett, needless to say, agreed with him.’

  ‘Steve and I left things as they were, thinking that by the time they caught Hill and sorted out the mess of his story, we could have finished the contract and cleared up. Unfortunately, before this could happen, another problem came along.’ He looked at Steve, who took up the story for a moment.

  ‘Yeah, two problems. You—’ he pointed to me — ‘were one of them, but we thought we could head you off. David was the worse problem. He’d been wetting himself ever since Mike was killed, saying that Hill was dead too, and that he was next. He kept begging me to tell him what to do. I said do nothing, but he kept on about giving himself up to the police.’

  ‘Then you turned up. I told David who you were to keep him quiet, but instead, he arranged to meet you that night in the Centre. When he rang me up and told me, the only thing I could do was to make him stay at home and take his place.’

  Chalgrove said, ‘That was a mistake, Steve.’

  ‘So you keep saying.’

  You should have let David tell his story. Tom might have been satisfied with that.’

  ‘Yes, I think I might,’ I said, not necessarily because I believed it, but to deepen the friction between them a little further.

  ‘All right, all right!’ Steve bit off the words. He looked at me. ‘I’ll admit that we underestimated you. I thought that one good thumping would send you back to London, tail between legs. I was wrong, I admit it.’

  ‘I never did underestimate you,’ said Chalgrove. ‘I’d been hoping that you’d discover the mechanism of Leigh’s conspiracy and be happy with that. But then, unfortunately, came David Brown’s demise.’

  ‘We’ve been all over that, Don,’ Steve said sharply. ‘I did the only thing I could at the time.’

  An unnecessary killing that put Tom on the track of us.’

  ‘It nearly sent him back home for good.’

  It was you, then,’ I said to Steve.

  ‘That’s right. I don’t know what you said to him at that dance, but he was terrified, said he’d get blamed for the killing unless he told you everything. Did you know it was him?’

  ‘I’d recognized his voice from when he phoned me.’ Time to give the pot another stir. ‘What I couldn’t understand was how someone of slight build l
ike David could give me such a hiding.’

  Chalgrove looked disgustedly at Steve, whose lips tightened.

  ‘Shut your trap, smart-ass.’

  ‘All right. But I don’t understand how you killed David.’

  ‘It was easy. I said we had to find somewhere quiet to talk and he suggested the roof. I tried to persuade him not to talk to you, but he wouldn’t have it. He was already pissed and kept taking swigs out of a hip-flask, but he was adamant about going to you, I couldn’t shift him.’

  ‘Then it came to me. I walked out on to the platform and he followed. He wouldn’t come very far, so as soon as he tried to light a cigarette, I grabbed him from behind and bundled him over the side. He—’

  ‘I wish you’d stop sounding so pleased with yourself,’ snapped Chalgrove.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I?’ Steve demanded belligerently. It was quick thinking, it had them all fooled.’ He turned to me. ‘You got some comment?’

  I shrugged. ‘As your boss said just now, it was all unnecessary. If you’d let David talk to me, that might have been the end of it.’

  ‘I told you to shut up!' The back of his hand slashed my face as he screamed the last two words.

  ‘Stop that!’ Chalgrove’s voice was like a whip and he backed off.

  I swallowed the warm taste of blood. ‘I suppose it was you who pushed me off.’

  ‘That was my worst mistake,’ he said thickly, ‘not making sure of you.’

  Chalgrove’s voice was filled with contempt. It seems that in his haste, Steve forgot to remove the hip-flask which was covered with his fingerprints. He was trying to retrieve it when you arrived.’

  ‘Wasn’t your lucky night, was it?’ I said to Steve. He lunged at me again, but Chalgrove held him off.

  But for how much longer? I wondered.

  ‘I suppose it was you who locked me into the freezing-room?’

  White teeth flashed as he recovered himself. ‘Right every time. I’d just gone round to substitute the plasma for this batch and found you poking around in there. I removed the clip and pin from the bolt and left them on the floor, then opened the fuse-box and pulled the fuse for the siren out a centimetre before shutting the door.’ He shrugged. ‘It was just bad luck you were found in time—’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Chalgrove said coldly. There’s been too much killing as it is.’

  ‘Well, he’s got to go—’

  ‘Shut up!’

  He turned to me. ‘You see, Tom, I really don’t want to kill you if it can be helped. I believe there is an exchange we can make which will obviate that possibility.’

  For a moment I thought he must know about Hill. ‘What exchange?’

  He said, ‘Your brother.’

  After a pause I said, ‘What about him?’

  ‘He’s got AIDS, and you know what that means.’

  ‘I know he might not have got it, if you’d publicized your work rather than making money out of it.’

  He considered this for a moment. ‘It’s unlikely. Even if I’d published two years ago, he’d still have used infected American Factor VIII.’ Somehow, I believed him.

  ‘The fact is, he’s got it now, and what you’ve been doing hasn’t helped.’

  ‘But that’s just it, Tom, I can help. That’s what I’m offering.’

  The silence lasted probably only a few seconds, yet I felt as if I was floating on time itself.

  ‘How?’ I said at last. ‘How can you help him?’

  He leaned forward. ‘So far as the media is concerned, there’s no treatment for AIDS, and it’s one hundred per cent fatal. Right?’

  I nodded.

  ‘There is a treatment. Treatments, plural.’

  ‘Why haven’t I heard of them?’

  ‘They’re new. The Americans have found a drug called Suramin and tried it on a handful of volunteer patients. It’s early days yet, but it looks as though it might work.’

  I swallowed. ‘Well, either it does, or it doesn’t.’

  ‘Not that easy. The drug kills the virus that’s been killing the lymphocytes. That’s fine, except that you still haven’t got any lymphocytes. But—’ he lifted a finger — if you could give a marrow transplant after Suramin treatment, it might have a chance of growing without the virus to kill it off. That’s the deal, Tom. I arrange for your brother to have Suramin, and then a marrow transplant from you.’

  I swallowed again, tried to sound sure of myself.

  ‘How do I know you’re telling the truth?’

  He reached across the desk for a copy of the Lancet, flipped it open and held it in front of my face.

  ‘Suramin,’ read the heading. ‘In vitro killing of HTLV-VIII.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Read on. Down there.’ He pointed to an abstract below the heading.

  ‘HTLV-III, the putative agent of AIDS is selectively killed in vitro by the drug Suramin…’

  ‘All right, I believe you,’ I said, not looking up. ‘But how can you get this drug?’

  ‘The “gentlemen in America”,’ he replied simply.

  I thought: This is the time to accept. It’s all he got to offer, there’s nothing more. All I have to do is to convince him that my acceptance is real.

  Deeper inside, much deeper, I was thinking: Why not accept for real? It could save Frank. It would be easy; the police and Falkenham, even Marcus, want to believe that there are no more conspiracies. Chalgrove is going to stop, so why not?

  ‘Well?’ said Chalgrove.

  All right.’ I nodded.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Steve, ‘what happens when his brother either gets better or dies? There’s nothing to stop him shopping us then.’

  ‘Except that by that time he will have been our accomplice, he’ll be in almost as much trouble as us. Besides, by then we will have completed the contract, we’ll cover our tracks so that he won’t be able to prove it.’

  Steve hesitated unwillingly, and looking at his face I could see that he didn’t want to stop and could see no obstacle to going on, except me…

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘it’s too risky. He may have convinced you, Don, but not me. It’s safer to get rid of him.’

  Chalgrove was looking down at the floor by my feet with pursed lips.

  He’s going to give in, my brain screamed, do something, say something.

  I cleared my throat and they looked at me. ‘There’s something you’ve forgotten.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Steve.

  Yes. Whether I have anything to offer you.’

  ‘And have you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Hill.’

  A short silence.

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘I know where he is.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  I described Hill and his version of events.

  ‘He knows,’ said Chalgrove.

  ‘Hill’s no problem to us now. Who would believe him?’

  ‘Tom did.’

  Steve snorted. ‘Tom’d believe anything, or at least that’s what people think now. Hill’s not important, Don.’

  ‘As your boss just said, it was Hill who led me to you.’

  ‘Fluke.’

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ said Chalgrove. He turned to me. ‘What do you propose doing about him? Kill him?’

  I shook my head. ‘Not necessary, now that the police think that David killed Leigh. We’ll let them go on thinking it. Hill trusts me, he’ll say what I tell him to say. I can make sure he’s no trouble to you.’

  ‘I believe you could,’ Chalgrove said softly.

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ said Steve impatiently.

  ‘You don’t believe I can talk him round, Steve?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘You think that whatever I tell him, he’s still a time-bomb so far as you’re concerned?’

  ‘I just said so, didn’t I?’ He turned to Chalgrove. ‘Don, he’s just playing for time.’

&nb
sp; ‘Because in that case,’ I cut in, ‘you’ve just contradicted yourself. A minute ago, you said he was no problem, not important. Now you think he’s a time-bomb. You’re right, he’s ticking away at this moment. It’s like the Sword of Damocles waiting to fall on you—’

  ‘Shut up!’ He hit me again, with clenched fist this time. You’re really think you’re it, don’t you?’

  ‘Cut it out.’ Chalgrove’s quiet voice was like ice, and Steve slowly straightened up.

  ‘Sorry, Don,’ he said with difficulty. ‘He really gets to me.’

  ‘It shows.’

  ‘I can talk Hill round,’ I said quickly. ‘You’d better believe it, Steve, it’s your only chance of stopping him talking.’

  He stepped up to me, his face hollowed with hate.

  ‘So, you’re not gonna tell us where he is?’

  I smiled and shook my head.

  ‘Don’t be so sure.’ He turned back to Chalgrove. ‘I can make him talk, Don.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Just give me an hour with him,’ he said. ‘He’ll talk.’

  ‘Why should I talk?’ I said. Hill’s my insurance policy.’

  He stiffened, and I was sure he was going to hit me again, but then he looked down at me almost softly, his head cocked to one side and his mouth slightly open. He reached out and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand, I flinched, and the side of my eye caught Chalgrove putting his hand into his jacket pocket. With a caress, Steve cupped my chin in his fingers, pulled my face to meet his eyes.

  ‘I know all about you,’ he said gently. He knelt, drew closer so that I could see into his mouth, feel his breath on my face. ‘I know all about your brother and about your fears. With a little time, I swear I can make you talk.’

  ‘You’re too late,’ I said between my teeth. ‘Blood doesn’t bother me now.’

  I realized as I spoke that it was true, and he realized it too.

  Silence.

  Then the light grew in his eyes again.

  ‘Bet I do know something that bothers you. The freezing-room, remember? The place you nearly died? Twenty minutes in there and you’ll tell me, even if you know I’ll kill both you and Hill afterwards.’

  ‘No difference, if you’re going to kill me anyway,’ I said between my teeth again.