Ken McClure - Trauma

The man looked doubtful; he looked down at Main’s brief-case and then back up at him. Eventually he said, “The Sigma Lab is in the basement. How could you possibly ‘lose your bearings’ and end up here? Who let you in?”

The game was slipping away from Main rapidly. His impulse was to push the man out the way and make a run for it, but he doubted that he would be able to get out of the building in time. Besides, he had no wish to assault an innocent man doing his job, and neither did he want to end up in jail over this. He decided to go on with his implausible story. “No one, actually. The door was open when I arrived so I just walked in. As there was no one about, I started looking for directions and ended up here.” He gestured to the direction board.

Again the man looked doubtful. “The door was open you say?”

“Yes,” replied Main.

“Come with me.”

The man started back down the stairs with Main following along behind. He thought how easy it would be to push him in the back and take to his heels but again baulked at the consequences. At the foot of the stairs was the main entrance hall. A woman sat behind the reception desk and two uniformed security men were talking by the door.

“Jean, did you leave your desk unattended at any time in the last half hour?”

The woman looked at her questioner and then at Main. She replied, “I don’t think so, Dr Salman.”

The man summoned the two security men over and said, “This man says that he just walked into the building. Is that possible?”

“No sir,” replied one of the men. The other just shook his head.

Salman turned to face Main again. “Well?” he asked.

Main smiled and tried his last bluff. He turned to one of the security men and said, “You were there all right. You were outside giving directions to a delivery driver. I just walked in behind your back. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. Unfortunately there was no one at the desk I could ask for directions.”

Salman looked back to the woman sitting behind the desk. She shrugged uncomfortably and said, “Maybe I went to the toilet. I can’t remember exactly.”

Main felt relief flood through him but it was short lived. The other security man said, “But I would have seen him.”

Main had no answer to that but the man’s colleague suddenly said, “You went to put the kettle on while I spoke to the driver. Remember?”

“Oh yeah,” replied the man sheepishly. Main could hardly believe his luck.

Salman said to the three employees, “We are trying to run a research institute where cleanliness and sterility are of the highest importance and yet apparently anyone can wander in here off the street!”

All three looked down at their feet.

“It won’t happen again sir,” said one of the security men.

“It had better not,” said Salman. “Now, Mr—?”

“Main.” Main had little heart for continuing the charade.

“I’ll call the Sigma people for you.” Salman leaned over the reception desk and picked up the phone. He punched in four numbers and waited.

“Mr Mace? It’s Dr Salman. I have a man up here who says he’s from the company that manufactures the Sigma probes. Would you come and have a word with him, please?”

Main watched as Salman replaced the phone. “Thanks,” he said, feeling like a brave criminal of yore thanking his executioner. He did not have long to wait before two men appeared in reception. Both wore white tunics and trousers with the Gelman Holland logo above their left breast. They wore name badges, Mace and Pallister.

“Your card?” asked Mace.

“I’m sorry, I’ve run out. I keep meaning to tell the office,” replied Main. He didn’t bother to smile this time. He was wondering if he was looking at the two men who had abducted his son’s body.

“What company did you say you were from?” asked Mace, exchanging a doubting look with Pallister.

“Main Electronics,” said Main.

“How come we’ve never heard of you?” asked Pallister.

“The probes are made up by our research division. They don’t carry our trademark yet. They’re still under test, you might say.”

Mace looked at Pallister who shrugged and said, “I thought Professor Tyndall’s people made them up themselves.”

“So did I,” said Mace suspiciously. “Wait there.”

Main had to wait once again while the reception phone was used.

“Dr Sotillo? It’s Mace her sir. Would you come up to reception for a moment sir?”

Main felt uneasy — even fearful but his one crumb of comfort lay in the fact that they had not moved from the reception area and it was public. The opposition could not afford to do anything too awful to him here. A tall, distinguished looking man arrived and looked at Main as if he was something nasty on the pavement. He stood on the other side of the hall while Mace whispered an explanation to him. When he’d finished, Sotillo came over to Main and said, “The probes are made up here in the medical school. Who the hell are you?”

Main saw that Sotillo also had the Gelman Holland logo on his lab coat. He did not reply.

“He says his name is Main,” said Salman.

Main thought he saw a flicker of recognition in Sotillo’s eyes. “Does he indeed,” said Sotillo softly.

“Should I call the police?” asked the receptionist. “There have been a number of petty thefts recently. I know a woman up in pathology who...”

Sotillo gave a slight smile and interrupted her. He said to Main, “Open your case.”

Main opened up his brief case to reveal a copy of the daily paper and a measuring tape. Nothing else.

“Now your pockets.”

Main emptied his pockets. Sotillo looked through his wallet for identification and found it. He put everything back and handed the wallet to Main. He said to everyone, “He doesn’t seem to have taken anything. I don’t think we’ll bother with the police. What’s more important at the moment is, who let him in here in the first place?”

“I’ve already said something about that,” said Salman.

Sotillo looked at Main and said, “Get out of here. You won’t be so lucky again.”

Main needed no second invitation. The air had never smelt sweeter as he left through the front door without looking back. His first thought was to call Lafferty. He had failed in his mission, but at least he had found out where the Sigma lab was and the names of three people concerned with it. As he came out of the medical school he made for the telephone kiosks he could see to his left.

Main was fumbling in his pocket for another coin to continue the conversation when a gloved hand came down on the receiver rest, cutting him off. He felt a sharp pain in his right buttock as something was pushed into it. Everything started to become fuzzy, his legs became weak and the whole world started spinning in a whirl of colour.

When Main could think again, he decided through the hazy fog of semi-consciousness that he must be dead. Everything was silent... he could see his son, Simon... but something was dreadfully wrong... this wasn’t heaven... it was hell.

Lafferty looked at the receiver in his hand. The line had gone dead and he knew why. Main had been caught. He closed his eyes and offered up a prayer for his safety, but his conscious mind made him fear the worst. He replaced the receiver on its cradle and saw it as an act of finality, the closing of a door, the severing of a link. He looked at the pad lying in front of him and read what he had written down during Main’s call.

The Sigma lab was located in the basement of Cyril Tyndall’s department, known as the Gelman Holland Research Institute. Martin Keegan’s body was not in the medical school mortuary so it must still be there. Access to the Institute was by means of an electronic key-card which members of staff carried with them. There were two other entrances to the building but both were kept locked. The two technicians responsible for the Sigma probes were named Mace and Pallister, but a man called Dr Sotillo seemed to be in overall charge. The three of them seemed to wok directly for Gelman Holland, yet Sotillo seemed to have some executive authority in the Institute; it had been he who had authorised Main’s release.