Chilling Out

by Andrew Puckett

  'I don't know.' Seeing the sceptical look on his face, she continued, 'Dr Medlar told me that Dr Goring had admitted it to him.'

  'Didn't he say who it was?'

  'No.'

  'Did you know about the freezing-room door, that it was jamming?'

  She blinked at the abrupt change of subject. 'We all did.' she said, and told him how Steve Tanner had come into the meeting to tell Dominic.

  ‘Who was at the meeting?’

  She told him and he noted down the names.

  'All right,' he said, 'so what were you doing that night?'

  'Which night?'

  'Friday night. The night Dr Goring was killed.'

  'I'm sure you already know all that from the inspector.'

  'I'd like to hear it from you.'

  She shrugged. 'Very well,' and she told him about Craig and how she'd fled from her own house.

  'Weren't you frightened?'

  'I was bloody terrified.'

  'Why didn't you go to the police?'

  'I didn't want the hassle, I just wanted him out.'

  'OK.' He made a note to talk to Craig himself. 'Then what happened?'

  She described how she'd met Verity and gone back with her to her house; the meal, the wine, although not the hashish. 'I was worried about Craig, whether he'd trash my place, whether he'd still be here, so I ended up spending the night there.'

  'Sharing a bed?'

  'Yes,' she said matter-of-factly.

  'What time would you say you arrived at her house?'

  She made a mouth. 'A little after five, I suppose.'

  'And you had a meal, some wine and went to bed together – what time would that have been?'

  'I wasn't exactly watching the clock at the time… I'd say sometime after eight.'

  'Quite early.'

  'If you say so.'

  'And you stayed there until ten the next morning?'

  'That's right.'

  Tom looked at her and she looked steadily back at him. Bennett's right, he thought, she is lying…

  He decided to push her.

  'So, I suppose you could say you discovered something about yourself that night?'

  'How d'you mean?'

  'About your sexuality – you could say that you discovered your… true self that night.'

  'What is truth?' she repeated after a pause.

  'What indeed?'

  'You're right, I suppose I did discover something about myself that night.'

  'Didn't it surprise you? I mean, you had been living with Craig, a man, for the last two months. Had you had a normal sexual relationship with him?'

  'What's normal?'

  Tom didn't say anything, and after a moment she continued: 'Yes, I suppose it did surprise me.'

  'So you could say, in a manner of speaking, that you were seduced by Ms Blane?'

  'Yes, I suppose you could, in a manner of speaking.' Her voice was still light, but her face was beginning to flush.

  'What did you do in bed?'

  'I beg your pardon?'

  'What did you do when you got into bed with Miss Blane?'

  'What do you think we did?' Her voice was forced now and the flush covered her cheekbones, making them stand out more than ever.

  'I've no idea, I don't know about these things… Strapadictomy? Steely Dan Three for all I know…' He realised he'd gone too far as soon as the words were out, wondered fleetingly whether she'd ever read The Naked Lunch…

  She had. She leapt to her feet, her face crimson, her voice choking. 'I think you'd better go…' and Tom realised he'd escaped being slapped by a whisker.

  'All right,' he said, standing up slowly, making sure he kept out of range. 'I'll see myself out.'

  At the door, he said, 'I'll almost certainly need to speak to you again.'

  She didn't move, but her eyes glowed as red as her face. 'Do I have any choice?'

  'You can refuse, of course, but I'm not sure it would be in your interest.'

  'Get out.'

  He pulled the front door shut behind him, walked to his car and drove off.

  I wonder if she'll complain… she'd have grounds. Tom hadn't meant to push his luck that far, but he felt fairly sure she wouldn't complain. Because she is lying, about something.

  The ready answers, the prepared story, the too frank stares when she wanted to look sincere…

  And she should have simply told me to MYOB when I got intimate.

  He'd talk to Craig, and Verity of course, although she'd certainly be forewarned. He took a breath and drove to the centre.

  Chapter Thirteen

  He sat waiting in reception, thinking, telling himself: It's not so bad as the first time I was here and there's no reason I should actually have to see any… He badly wanted a cheroot.

  A secretary arrived and took him to the directorial suite.

  'Mr Jones, Dr Medlar.'

  'Come in, Mr Jones.' Medlar got up from behind his desk as the secretary pulled the door shut and shook Tom's hand. His grip was neither slack nor too hearty.

  'Do sit down.' He indicated a seat and resumed his own behind his desk. 'I can't pretend your visit's a pleasure, although I do appreciate its necessity. Where do you want to start?'

  Tom could detect the nervousness behind the firm, no-nonsense approach; he'd expected it and given some thought to his approach. 'Has Lady Margaret explained to you why she's asked me to come here?'

  'Yes. It seems she's as much worried about the corruption aspects as she is about poor Adam's death.'

  'I believe you'd known Dr Goring for some time?'

  'Yes, we were old friends.'

  'Close friends?'

  Medlar hesitated. 'It was the friendship of colleagues who'd… shared a lot of experiences.' He smiled as he said this, a small smile that nevertheless softened his rather angular face. 'I wouldn't say we were really close.'

  'How long had you known him?'

  'Oh, it must have been nearly twenty-five years.'

  'That long?'

  'Yes. We met at the Sheffield centre in the mid-seventies when we were doing our post-grad fellowships, and afterwards, we were both employed there.'

  'Sheffield's your home?'

  'No. I came from York originally.'

  Yes, thought Tom, his accent was harder, more distinct than Goring's had been on the video, rather like his face. And yet it was Goring who had indisputably packed the punch.

  He said with a smile, 'You seemed a little… equivocal about your relationship with Dr Goring just now.'

  'Did I? Well, I suppose you could say that there was a – a certain rivalry between us one way and another in those days.'

  'In what ways?'

  'Well, we were both taken on as registrars, but we knew that the deputy directorship would be coming up before long. We both applied, and Adam got it.'

  'Why was that, d'you think?'

  'Basically, because he wanted it more than me.'

  'Did you resent it?'

  'No – I was never as ambitious as he. Besides which, he left after three years to become director of the West London centre and I took over from him.'

  'He was always a high-flyer, then?'

  'Oh, very much so.'

  'So it was really only a matter of time before he moved on?'

  Again Medlar hesitated. 'Yes, although he did have other reasons for wanting to leave at the time. His fiancé broke off their engagement and married me.'

  The words themselves were neutral, but Tom thought that, even now, he could detect an ancient satisfaction behind them. He was wondering why he'd told him when Medlar added with a shrug, 'If you hadn't heard it from me, you'd have heard it from someone else.'

  'So you're suggesting that despite all his success, it was he who resented you?'

  'I think he probably did at the time, yes. We certainly didn't see each other for a while after that. But he was, as you observed yourself, very ambitious. Even then, together with two or three of the other most influential dire
ctors, he was planning the formation of the Blood Division.'

  Tom allowed a small silence, then said, 'What made you move down here, Dr Medlar?'

  He told Tom how he'd been happy enough as deputy director at Sheffield, but that some twelve years later the director had retired. He'd applied, but not been successful.

  'Why did it happen that time, d'you think?' Tom probed.

  'Selection panels are there to select, and this one was more impressed with another candidate.'

  He was taking every question with an almost studied equanimity, Tom thought. Time to increase the pressure a little, perhaps…

  'You said just now that Dr Goring was influential, one of the most influential directors, you said… could that have had anything to do with your – er – non-selection, d'you think?'

  'Oh, I shouldn't think so,' Medlar said easily. 'I can't imagine he'd bear a grudge that long.'

  Too easily…? 'But you know what that sort of man says to himself when he does you a bad turn, don't you? That it's for the good of the service, nothing at all to do with personal feelings.'

  Medlar shrugged again. 'Maybe so, but it was Adam who was more or less instrumental in getting me the post here. Dr Falkenham was retired, as you know – '

  So he knows about my involvement…

  ' – and Adam came down as interim director for six months to clear up the mess. It was a sort of precursor to his becoming Transfusion Co-ordinator, I think. Anyway, he afterwards suggested to me that I might like the job. To be honest with you, I bit his hand off. I didn't get on with the new director at Sheffield and it was a relief to get away.'

  'Didn't that feel a bit like picking up the crumbs from under his table?'

  Medlar went still. 'No,' he said. 'No, Mr Jones, it didn't feel like that.'

  Tom knew he was pushing him, but wanted to know how far his equanimity would stretch. 'I mean, that was the second time you'd taken his… his place after he'd moved on to better things.'

  'Have you never heard of cutting off your own nose to spite your face? There are some things more important than pride.'

  'In six months, of course, your job here will cease to exist.'

  He stared at Tom. 'Are you seriously trying to suggest that Adam knew nearly eight years ago that Tamar was going to close? Besides – ' he forced a smile – 'it's in some ways to my advantage. You see, my wife has developed multiple sclerosis and I shall welcome the chance to be able to spend more time with her.'

  He's getting that in now, Tom thought, before the other business comes up… Time for a switch. 'You were the one who said he was influential, Dr Medlar. Is there any truth in Miss Pengellis' allegation that he used that influence to close Tamar rather than East Dorset in order to help his son-in-law?'

  Medlar's eyes flickered as he absorbed the change. 'It was most unwise of Jessie to suggest that so publicly – it's almost certainly cost her career.'

  'But is there any truth in it?'

  'I find it very difficult to believe that someone in Adam's position would do such a thing,' he said carefully. 'And it has to be said that, on paper at least, it does make more sense to close Tamar.'

  'Why is that?'

  'East Dorset is a larger centre with better communications.'

  'So you're broadly in favour of the closure, for logistical as well as personal reasons?'

  'That's not what I said, or meant, Mr Jones. I'd rather no centres shut.'

  'Even although it's to your advantage, as you told me just now?'

  'I said that in answer to your ridiculous theory that Adam knew when he suggested I come here that it would close.' His words were clipped now, his face pale. 'And I have to say that I don't much care for your attitude. Am I some kind of suspect? The police were a good deal more polite than you.'

  Tom smiled. 'I'm sorry for that, but as I'm sure you're aware, Dr Medlar, this is a very complex business and – '

  'Don't patronise me.'

  'Lady Margaret is very worried about the effect this alleged corruption may have on the Blood Division, which is why – '

  'The only thing Lady Margaret's worried about is her own backside, so you needn't try and intimidate me by invoking her name.' His anger was under control now. 'I'd suggest that the best people to ask about the alleged corruption are those it most concerns. Have you spoken to the director at East Dorset, or Dr Goring's son-in-law?'

  'Not yet, although I'll be seeing them on Wednesday. Miss Pengellis made another curious assertion,' Tom hurried on, 'that Dr Goring had some sort of spy here who told him everything she planned to say on television. Is that possible d'you think? He certainly did seem very well prepared.'

  Medlar sighed, his equanimity back in place. 'I wouldn't have believed it, except for one thing…' He told Tom how Goring had admitted it to him.

  'Did he say who it was?'

  'No.'

  'Who would you think?'

  'I haven't the least idea.'

  Tom said, 'Miss Pengellis seemed to think that Dr Goring was given a copy of her file the day before the interview. Would it really have been possible for him to have found all the answers he needed in such a short time?'

  'I see what you mean…' Medlar said slowly. 'Although in a matter like this, he'd have had people working at Blood Division through the evening.'

  'Inspector Bennett told me that Dr Goring had actually instructed you to find evidence against Miss Pengellis?'

  Medlar smiled grimly. 'It was an instruction I had no intention of complying with.'

  'Were you surprised he was going to such lengths to have her sacked?'

  'Not really, no – Adam could be vindictive. And she had undermined his credibility, in his eyes, anyway.'

  'Did he mean it about suing her for slander?'

  'I think he did at the time.'

  'D'you think she killed him?'

  Medlar's eyes flickered again. 'I find that, too, very difficult to believe.'

  'All right,' Tom said. 'I'd like to come now to your own movements that evening – ' he judged the time was right – 'when you were here with Miss N'Kanu.'

  'Doesn't the statement I made to Inspector Bennett cover that?'

  'Yes, but since it was possibly around that time that Dr Goring was locked into the freezer, I'd like to hear about it from you myself.'

  'Very well.' He drew out his tobacco pouch and pipe and began filling it. 'The inspector assured me it would go no further – do I have a similar assurance from you?'

  Tom nodded. 'Yes.'

  'Very well,' he said again, and applied his lighter to his pipe. The smell of the smoke reminded Tom of his own craving for nicotine, but this wasn't the time for any suggestion of chumminess.

  'I was here in my office working until a little after five, I suppose. I was about to go home when Miss N'Kanu came in, wanting to talk to me. We stayed here until about eight, then we left.'

  'Here in this office?'

  'Yes.'

  'Were you expecting her?'

  'No.'

  'Did anyone see either of you?'

  'No. Nearly everyone had gone home at four. Besides… I locked the door.'

  Tom said quietly, 'Did you have sex with her?'

  Medlar's eyes went over his shoulder to the door. He lowered his voice but said levelly enough, 'I can't see what possible concern that is of yours.'

  'Then I'll put it another way – was your relationship with her platonic or erotic?'

  'Oh, for God's sake…' He leaned forward, spoke quietly but intensely. 'Yes, we made love.'

  'I assume it wasn't the first time?'

  He swallowed. 'You assume correctly.'

  'How long has –?'

  'It started three months ago. We went to a conference in Birmingham and had dinner together one night. We'd always got on, been attracted to each other, I suppose, and the wine, the distance from home did the rest.'

  'How often –?'

  'I don't expect you to believe this, Mr Jones, and I frankly don't care, but
I love my wife. Making love with her has been impossible now for well over a year and… the flesh is weak. However, that Friday evening was only the fourth time. I had told her previously that we must stop, but as I said, the flesh is weak… Is that what you wanted to hear?' Throughout his speech, he'd spoken in the same low, intense voice, his eyes fast on Tom's face. His pipe had gone out.

  'I'm not concerned with your morals, Dr Medlar, I'm just trying to find out what happened that night. She came here at a little after five?'

  'Yes.'

  'You were here until about eight, then you both left?'

  'Yes.'

  'Together?'

  'No, separately. She left about five minutes before me.'

  'You went straight home?'

  'Yes. The police have been into all this.'

  'Did you see or hear anyone else in the centre?'

  'No, but I wouldn't anyway. My car is in the underground park just beneath us, so I walked down the corridor and took the lift.'

  'Did you see anyone in the car-park?'

  'No.'

  Tom took a breath and said, 'Well, thank you for being so frank with me, Dr Medlar – it can't have been easy for you. I don't see why it need go any further and I certainly wouldn't want to upset your wife.'

  Medlar studied Tom. 'To tell you the truth,' he said, 'I've been wondering whether it might not be best to make a clean breast of it to her.'

  'That's something only you can judge,' Tom said, thinking, Was that for my benefit? He took a breath. 'One last thing. Miss Pengellis could be said to have a clear motive for killing Dr Goring – are there any others you know of with a motive, anything?'

  'I suppose we all could be said to have a motive,' Medlar said slowly. 'We are all losing our jobs.'

  'But that's going to affect some of you more than others, surely?' Tom persisted.

  Medlar appeared to give this some thought. 'Paul – Paul Bannister, that is – and Adrian Hodges might find it difficult getting other jobs… I do know that Verity Blane is very settled here although, of course, none of them actually wants to move… Dominic Tudor has a research programme going that he may well have to drop… That's all I can think of at the moment.'

  Tom noted them down, then told him he'd need to interview the rest of the senior staff and asked if there was a suitable room he could use. Medlar suggested the deputy director's room, which was just along the corridor, and showed him.