Ken McClure - Chameleon

'Looks as if you've had a go at him yourself Louis,' said the policeman looking at Jamieson's face.

'We had to restrain him Inspector, nothing more. It took me all my time to stop Sharon here removing his assets so to speak.'

'There's been an awful mistake,' murmured Jamieson.

'If I had a pound for every time I've heard that before,' said the policeman in a bored voice. He was middle aged, balding, with a short moustache and a world weary look about him that said that he had seen it all before. He spoke as if Jamieson wasn't there. Jamieson was reminded of certain consultants he had known who discussed patients with colleagues at the patients' bedsides in similar fashion. 'What did you say he was doing Louis?' the policeman asked.

'He was lurking about the lane, trying doorways, looking up at the windows. The boys have been keeping a look-out for any weirdos in the streets and along comes this one.'

'Very public spirited of you Louis,' said the policeman. 'But then this sort of thing is bad for business anyway eh?'

'Don't know what you mean Inspector,' said Louis with an air of outraged innocence.

'Of course not.'

Jamieson tried to sit up and two uniformed policemen moved in to restrain him. 'I'm not the killer! My jacket. Look in my jacket. I have Identification.'

The Inspector nodded to one of the constables and then accepted Jamieson's wallet casually as it was handed to him by the uniformed man. He rifled through the contents until he found the Sci-Med card and then paused before letting out his breath slowly and looking up at the ceiling. 'Sweet Jesus,' he said softly.

Louis and the tall man could sense that something was wrong and began to get nervous. 'He is the killer isn't he?' asked Louis, anxious for reassurance.

'You pillock!' said the Inspector quietly. 'You have just assaulted an officer of the Sci-Med Monitor.

'Does that mean he's a copper?' asked the tall man with a vacant look on his face.

'You could say,' replied the inspector.

'Well how were we to know?' complained Louis.

'You can ask the judge that,' said the policeman.

'Judge? You mean you are going to charge us?'

'Charge you?' exclaimed the inspector. 'When this hits court they'll probably bang you up and melt the key.'

'Shit!' said Louis. 'You try to help the police like a responsible citizen and…'

'Louis you've been pimping since you were old enough to tell your arse from a hole in the wall. Let's cut out the responsible citizen crap.'

'I don't want to press charges,' said Jamieson grimacing as he sat up to have his hands released by one of the policemen.

'That's very generous of you sir,' said the inspector, 'But you'd probably be doing the city a service if you were to rid its streets of this garbage for a while.'

'No,' said Jamieson. 'It was my fault. I should have thought that someone might think what these gentlemen, obviously thought.'

'If you're sure sir?'

Jamieson nodded as he rubbed his wrists painfully.

'Thanks,' said Louis as if the word pained him.

'Yeah thanks,' echoed the tall man. 'No hard feelings eh?'

'If I can repay you in any way…' simpered Sharon.

Jamieson smiled in spite of his pain and the inspector snarled, 'I'll pretend I didn't hear that Sharon if you get out of my sight within five seconds.'

Sharon disappeared and two policemen helped Jamieson to his feet. 'We'd best get you to a hospital for a check-up,' said the inspector. 'By the way, what were you doing here in this area?'

'I was looking for the owner of the green Volvo estate down there at the end of the lane.'

'Volvo estate?'

'The green one.'

The policeman came back from the window with a blank look on his face.

Jamieson knew what he was about to say. 'No Volvo huh?'

'No Volvo sir.'

It was well after midnight before Jamieson got back to the residency and heard Sue gasp when she saw the state of him. Jamieson sat down slowly in the only arm chair and asked her to pour him a drink while he told her what had happened.

'So you didn't even find out what Thelwell was up to?' said Sue. There was a suggestion of 'I told you so' in her voice but she didn't actually say it.

Jamieson agreed with a shake of the head and said, More Clouseau than Poirot.'

Sue smiled as she tended to Jamieson's cuts and bruises.

'But I should be able to find out if Thelwell owns or rents one of the apartments in that block and if he does…'

'Then what?' asked Sue suspiciously.

'I'll hand the information over to the police.'

'And if he doesn't?'

'I don't know.' confessed Jamieson.

'Sci-Med called when you were out. Thelwell has never been a patient at Costello Court.'

'The perfect end to a perfect day,' sighed Jamieson massaging his bruised cheek gently with the tips of his fingers.

'Oh and Moira Lippman phoned.'

'What did she want?' asked Jamieson.

'She said that she was at the lab and that she wanted to talk to you.'

'She shouldn't be at the lab,' exclaimed Jamieson. 'She was there all last night. She'll make herself ill. What time was that?'

'About eleven.'

Jamieson dialled the lab extension but there was no reply. 'She must have gone home. I hope she's all right. I thought Clive Evans was going to persuade her to take some time off. How did she sound?'

'A bit agitated. I asked if there was anything I could do but she said she had to speak to you about the result of some tests. Mean anything?'

Jamieson shook his head. 'Maybe I could call her at home.'

Sue looked at her watch and said, 'It's late. Can't it wait until morning?'

'No,' said Jamieson flatly. He flicked through the pages of his diary though he was hampered by the bandage over the knuckles of his right hand, the aftermath of having swung his fist into the wall. 'Damn, I didn't make a note of her home number. Maybe Clive is still awake.'

Jamieson went downstairs and along the corridor to Clive Evans' room. He could see there was a light under the door and knocked gently.

'What on earth!' exclaimed Evans when he saw the bruising on Jamieson's face.

'It's a long story. What I need right now is Moira Lippman's home number.'

'Of course,' said Evans. 'Come in. Is anything wrong?'

Jamieson told Evans about the message and Evans was surprised. 'Test results?' he exclaimed. 'But she wasn't working today. I sent her home this morning. She'd been up all night and what with the death of her sister in law she was just about all in.'

'She must have come in to the lab this evening. Sue said that she called from there. Who is on call in the lab this evening?'

'I am,' replied Evans. 'I've just come from there. I must have just missed her.'

'She may have discovered something important.'

'I can't think what. She hasn't had to time to set up any tests this evening that she could have the result from.'

'I think I have to speak to her.'

Evans shrugged and conceded. 'We can call her from here,' he said, picking up the phone.

Jamieson glanced at his watch as they waited for an answer. It was twenty past one. In the quiet of Evans' room he heard the phone being answered. Evans asked to speak to Moira.

'Out? At this time?'

A pause.

'Where did you say?'

Jamieson saw Evans frown as he put the phone down. 'She is out,' said Evans. 'Her flat mate said she went out about an hour ago.'

'Did she say where?' asked Jamieson.

'She went to meet Mr Thelwell.'

Jamieson felt as if someone had just switched on a machine inside his head, one of these engine models you find in museums which have been cut away to expose their workings. Wheels turned and gears meshed, shafts moved up and down but nothing really happened. Everything just moved. He rubbed his forehead and whispered, 'What on earth…'