Ken McClure: Tangled Web

‘Look, I really am a doctor. I’m not here to rob anyone,’ said Gordon.

‘What’s that in your bloody hand then?’ growled the man angrily. ‘Your prescription pad? Give it here!’

Gordon handed over the passbook and the man snatched it quickly from him with his left hand while still keeping the gun trained on him in his right. ‘Bastard,’ he swore when he read out the cover. ‘Nationwide bloody Building Society. Didn’t come here to rob, my arse!’ He put the passbook down on the table and returned to holding the gun in both hands.

Gordon could see that the man was becoming dangerously angry. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you just call the police and we can sort the whole thing out. I was just about to do that myself.’

‘Police? Judges? Courts? Bunch of tossers. It’s about time we returned to making our own justice round here. Leave it to that lot and the likes of you’ll end up getting off with a poxy fine, couple of weeks community service and not so much as a kick up the arse.’

‘Just call the police, will you?’ said Gordon, becoming increasingly anxious.

The man moved a little closer and leered at him. You’d like that wouldn’t you. Bastard! The whole bloody system’s designed for criminals these days and bugger the victims. Well, boyo, you fucked up this time!’ With that, the man swung the stock of his gun round to stab it with both hands into Gordon’s face, knocking him clean out.

When Gordon opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Mary’s face and she seemed angry. ‘I do not believe it, Tom’ she said. ‘ You make Inspector Clouseau seem like the consummate professional! What is it about you that makes you do these things?’

Gordon struggled to find a reply but his jaw hurt and before he could get anything out a voice on the other side of the bed, he recognised with a sinking feeling as belonging to Chief Inspector Davies said, ‘Frankly, I’ve given up on you Gordon. I’ve decided that there’s probably a limit to how much your head can take in the way of punishment so I’m going to let you reach your threshold and then maybe that’ll convince you not to play the Lone bloody Ranger all the time.’

Gordon closed his eyes again, wishing he were somewhere else.

Mary continued, ‘We’re thinking of a keeping aside a special bed just for you because you’re here so often. What on Earth possessed you to break in to Dawes’ house?’ she asked.

‘All right, all right, give me a chance, will you?’ said Gordon, holding up his hands in self-defence. He insisted that he hadn’t broken in; he’d been given a key and had just gone to take a look around when some madman had attacked him.

‘Clem Rees,’ interrupted Davies. ‘Slightly to the right of Saddam Hussain is old Clem. He sister’s place was done over by yobs two or three months ago. Duffed her up bad, they did. Clem didn’t take it too well. I think he sees himself as Charles Bronson in that film Death Wish ? He says you attacked him and he had to hit you in self- defence. Is that right?’

‘What d’you think?’ said Gordon sourly.

‘Do you want to press charges?’

Gordon shook his head. ‘First things first.’ he said. ‘I found out lots of things in that house today. Did you get the passbook?’

‘Clem presented it as evidence of your intention to rob. He was quite disappointed to find out you really were a doctor. Surprises me too some times.’

‘And me,’ agreed Mary.

‘You’ve got to find out where that money came from,’ insisted Gordon. ‘It’s the key to the whole thing. Listen to me! There’s a chance that Anne-Marie Palmer might still be alive.’

Davies and Mary gave each other a look that suggested that Gordon might really have gone too far this time and it was perhaps time for sectioning him under the auspices of the Mental Health Act.

‘I’m serious. Just listen, will you?’ Gordon told them both what he’d discovered at the house in Aberlyn and finally felt he was getting somewhere in the credibility stakes when he saw the look of horror appear on both their faces as he told them about the cellar and what had gone on there. ‘So you see, it wasn’t Anne-Marie Palmer that you found in the garden, it was Megan Griffiths made to look like Anne-Marie.

‘My God, that’s sick,’ said Mary.

‘But it worked,’ said Gordon. ‘The bottom line says, they took Anne-Marie and nobody bothered to look for her. The perfect kidnap.’

‘So the big question is, what did they intend doing with her?’ said Davies.

Gordon nodded and went through the possibilities.

‘So, what d’you reckon?’ asked Davies.

‘I have to think that they wanted some or all of her organs,’ confessed Gordon. ‘If they’d wanted a cloned child I suspect the fact that Anne-Marie was so badly disabled might have persuaded them to try the cloning again rather than kidnap her. I hope I’m wrong but...’

‘Makes sense,’ conceded Davies quietly.

‘I agree,’ said Mary, sounding very subdued. ‘But how could they do such a thing?’

‘The point is,’ insisted Gordon. ‘Maybe they haven’t yet. Maybe Anne-Marie is still alive.’

‘Do you really think there’s a chance?’ asked Mary.

Gordon shrugged and admitted, ‘It’s a slim one, considering the amount of time that’s elapsed, but while we don’t know for sure, we’ve got to try and find her and the key to doing that lies in that damned passbook!’

Davies was galvanised into action. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’ll get on to the Nationwide, see what they can tell us. Mind you, if Dawes walked into their office with cash in a brown paper bag, we’re all up Shit Creek.’

Davies left, leaving Gordon alone with Mary. ‘How’s the jaw?’ she asked.

Gordon rubbed it gently. ‘Okay,’ he said.

Mary smiled affectionately and said, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before. You’re either the bravest, most noble man I’m ever likely to come across or you’re a complete and utter pillock.’

‘Plenty of room for manoeuvre there,’ said Gordon. ‘I’d happily settle for somewhere in the middle.’

‘We’ll see,’ smiled Mary.

‘Well, I suppose you know what happens next by now,’ said Gordon, swinging his legs round and off the bed.

Mary looked at him and nodded, ‘You ask me for your clothes and then you sign yourself out?’

‘Correct.’

‘Are you sure you won’t stay in the night this time. You were knocked unconscious and damn it, you are a doctor, you should know better than to play the John Wayne thing.’

‘A man’s gotta do...’

‘What exactly, in your case?’ asked Mary.

Gordon sighed and looked down at the floor for a moment in silence. ‘I do have my pride, you know,’ he said, finally looking up at her. ‘I’m aware of people giggling in the corridor as I turn up yet again in A&E as a patient when I’m supposed to be a bloody doctor!’

Mary stifled a giggle behind her hand.

‘I suppose I just want to be out of here. I never want to see the place again if truth be told!’

Mary sat down on the bed beside him, once again smitten with Gordon’s vulnerability. ‘Maybe you are at the right end of that spectrum after all,’ she said gently.

Gordon looked at her and said, ‘Of course if you were to kiss me long and hard I just might be able to convince that lot out there that I keep getting my head bashed in just so I can come and see you...’

‘Well, if it’s a question of saving your street-cred, Doctor, that would seem to be the very least I could do.’

They were kissing when a domestic assistant came in to remove a tray. They were still kissing when she left.