Ken McClure - Dust to dust

‘I only gave them the bare facts when they turned up,’ said Steven. ‘With nothing else to go on, I think they might see it as a tragic accident — a fall from a cliff-top path after the guard rail gave way…’

‘Whereas we know it was anything but,’ said Macmillan.

Steven grunted, his anger still smouldering inside.

‘So why did he kill her?’

‘According to Louise’s boss who was present when Monk came to pick up the report, Louise saw something unusual in her analysis and pointed it out to Monk. I think that may have been her undoing.’

‘But we’ve seen a report on the samples,’ protested Macmillan. ‘There was nothing unusual about them at all.’

‘I know,’ sighed Steven. ‘I don’t understand it either.’

‘I’m assuming Miss Avery’s findings were the same as our lab’s?’

Steven screwed up his face at the question. ‘I didn’t see Louise’s report,’ he said. ‘She gave it to Monk.’

‘And there’s no other copy?’ asked Macmillan, sounding astonished.

‘I doubt it — most universities’ policy on contract work is to hand over everything to the client when the job’s finished. Contract work is always regarded as confidential so they don’t keep copies — that’s normal practice. Christ, I should have realised Monk would check there were no more samples lying around at the university. What a fool…’

‘Don’t blame yourself,’ said Macmillan. ‘None of us can think of absolutely everything. Apart from that, they were quick enough to give us our samples back after their “mistake” at the airport, so why should it matter if there were still some up north?’

‘Another question I can’t answer.’

‘Are you still intending to stay over with your daughter this weekend?’

Steven sighed. ‘No, I think I’m going to have to call off. I’ll come back to London as soon as I’ve told Louise Avery’s head of department what’s happened. I don’t want her finding out from the papers. The police will be telling Louise’s parents.‘

‘Let me know when you get back. There’s something else we need to discuss: the lab report on the MRSA cultures has come in. It’s the same strain.’

Steven let out his breath in another long, slow sigh. There were times when he could turn off the day job and switch into family mode to spend time with Jenny but this definitely wasn’t one of them. The cocktail of anger, frustration and guilt that simmered inside him was best not shared with anyone. He didn’t want the dark world of his job to come anywhere near Glenvane. He called Sue and apologised for crying off.

As always, she was understanding. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over it, Steven,’ she said. ‘If you can’t come, you can’t; we all know there must be a good reason — probably one it’s best we don’t know anything about,’ she added.

‘Thanks, Sue. I’ll call Jenny when… things get better…’

‘Take care, Steven. I’ll give her your love.’

Steven gave silent thanks for having a sister-in-law like Sue and reflected on how often he’d had to call on her in the past when the job became just too incompatible with normal life. This, in turn, forced him to acknowledge that Tally had been right. His attempts to minimise the dangers of the job had been ridiculous. Danger and death were always lurking on the horizon. That being the case, he couldn’t expect any woman to share anything more than a fleeting romance with him. That conclusion was just about all he needed to make an awful day even worse.

It was now a little after nine in the evening and Steven sat in the car, pondering how he was going to tell Mary Lyons. He had a number for her at the university but she wouldn’t be there at this time and she probably wouldn’t be there in the morning because it was Saturday. He knew that many people these days chose to be ex-directory but he decided to check out directory enquiries anyway, asking for Professor Mary Lyons in the Newcastle area.

‘37 Belvedere Road?’ asked the operator.

‘Yes,’ said Steven, hearing no other option.

‘Would you like me to put you through?’

Mary Lyons answered, giving her phone number in a clear voice, which struck Steven as being charmingly old-fashioned but infinitely preferable to ‘Yeah?’

‘Professor Lyons, it’s Steven Dunbar. I’m afraid I’ve got some very bad news for you.’

‘Oh, dear,’ sighed Mary Lyons. ‘I’ve been dreading this. It has to be about Louise, hasn’t it?’

‘She’s had an accident… a fatal one. She fell from a cliff-top in Leeford earlier today.’

There was a slight choking sound and a long silence before Mary Lyons replied, ‘I don’t think for one moment you’re telling me the whole story, Dr Dunbar. This is all tied up with the man who came to the department yesterday, isn’t it?’

Steven found himself on the spot. ‘He is part of the story,’ he confessed, ‘but it’s complicated…’

‘If only I hadn’t been so stupid…’

‘No, professor, none of this is your doing.’ Steven did his best to sound reassuring, but as he knew exactly how she felt he wasn’t sure he was helping. ‘It was just an unfortunate series of events that no one could have foreseen.’

‘I take it the police will be investigating this “accident”?’

‘The authorities will leave no stone unturned in uncovering the truth,’ said Steven, fearing he sounded like a government minister under interview. ‘I promise you, justice will be done.’

‘I just can’t believe this has happened… Louise’s poor parents…’

‘The police are informing them. Professor… I know you’ve had a terrible shock but there’s something I must ask you… You said that Louise found something strange or unusual in the results of the tests she was carrying out and pointed this out to the man who came to your department?’

‘Yes, but they both agreed it had no significance for the proposed transplant.’

‘I know you said you didn’t see what the oddity was but I just wondered if there might have been something said about it that you can remember? Anything at all? I’m clutching at straws here.’

‘No, I’m afraid not. It was just something mentioned in passing.’

‘No matter,’ said Steven, acutely aware of the woman’s grief and now her discomfort at not being able to help.

‘But you could look for yourself,’ said Mary Lyons suddenly.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I’ve just remembered something. When you asked Louise to analyse these samples and she asked me for permission, I told her that a record would have to be kept of the whole thing for the benefit of the university authorities — they’re very strict about contracting for outside work, or rather the university’s insurers are. A file was opened for her on the departmental server so she could list everything she did and cost everything she used in the analysis. The last thing she would enter would be her final report, which would remain on the file until the client was billed and the account settled.’

‘And you think she might have done that before handing over the written copy?’

‘There’s a good chance she did.’

‘How many people know about this?’

‘Just myself and the lab manager.’

‘Wonderful. I take it this wasn’t mentioned at the meeting you and Louise had with the impostor?’

‘It wasn’t relevant,’ said Mary Lyons. ‘Although when he thanked us before leaving, I did remind him he would be getting a bill.’

Steven considered for a moment but didn’t see how that could have raised any suspicion. ‘It’s absolutely vital that I see that report,’ said Steven. ‘And it goes without saying that no one else hears about it, professor.’