Fenton. Neil had used Sandra Murray's blood to test the behaviour of group B blood in the presence of Saxon plastic. He could have obtained blood of group O and A from people in the lab but for group B he had had to ask the blood transfusion service. The figures for Sandra Murray's blood, although slightly on the long side, were within the normal clotting time range. Underneath Neil had written down three dots followed by the letters, 'AB'…therefore AB. Neil Munro had known!
Munro had deduced that the plastic affected people with group AB blood and that meant something in the order of three percent of the population. That was why he had requested another donor from the Blood Transfusion Service; he had wanted to verify his conclusion.
Fenton picked up the phone and called Steve Kelly to get details of Munro's last request. Kelly told him what he was now already sure of; Munro had requested a supply of group AB blood.
Fenton had interpreted everything in Munro's book except the numbers on the first page. As a last resort he considered that they might conceivably refer to a routine lab specimen number. He went downstairs to the office to check through the files and found that there was indeed a blood sample bearing the five figured number in Munro's book. It had come from a patient named Moran and appeared to have been quite normal for all the tests requested.
Failing to see the significance of a normal blood analysis Fenton returned upstairs but stopped when he got to the first landing as the name, 'Moran' rang a bell. Of course! That was the name of the patient whose sample had been a failure on the Saxon Analyser during the trials. The failure had been put down to the specimen arriving in the wrong sort of container but when it had been checked on the routine analyser it had given perfectly normal readings. It had been the Saxon Analyser at fault not the specimen and Neil Munro must have realised that! That's what had started his investigation off in the first place!
Fenton checked with Medical Records and ascertained that the patient Moran had had group AB blood. More checking revealed that Susan Daniels had also had AB blood. A call to the records department at the Eye Pavilion told him that the same had been true for Jamie Buchan.
The conclusion was perfectly simple. Saxon plastic killed people with group AB blood. It totally destroyed the clotting mechanism. Susan Daniels had constantly been in contact with it through the samplers for the Saxon Blood Analyser she had been testing, the patients had had Saxon plastic name tags permanently against their skin, as had Jamie Buchan after Jenny had given him some to play with and the ward maid would have handled Saxon products every day in the ward. It made sense.
On the day that Neil Munro had worked out the problem with AB blood he must have told Saxon and gone down to the Sterile Supply Department immediately to have all Saxon plastic products withdrawn. Saxon must have followed him and pushed him into the steriliser before he had had a chance to tell anyone.
It must have been Saxon personally, decided Fenton, for Neil had told no one else in the lab and he would have gone down to see Sister Kincaid as soon as he had realised what was going on. There would not have been time for Saxon to arrange for someone else to have done his dirty work. Saxon must have done it himself and for that, given half a chance, there would be a reckoning before society had its say.
TEN
Tyson was out of the lab at a meeting so Fenton called the hospital secretary, James Dodds, on his own authority. He was asked to wait while a lady with an affected accent checked to see 'if Mr Dodds was available.'
'Dodds here.'
'Fenton, Biochemistry, I think you may find this a little difficult to believe…'
Fenton was right, Dodds found it hard to swallow. He indicated his difficulty by making spluttering noises into the phone and other sounds of incredulity.
'You must withdraw all Saxon plastic products at once,' concluded Fenton.
'But are you absolutely sure?' protested Dodds.
'Absolutely. There is no madman on the loose in the hospital, it's the plastic.'
'But Dr Munro's death?'
'I'll be speaking to the police about that,' said Fenton. 'But the main thing is to stop the staff using anything made of Saxon plastic.'
'Of course, of course,' murmured Dodds. 'Right away.'
Saxon products were withdrawn from circulation, a task accomplished without much difficulty due to the fact that stocks in the hospital were generally low as the initial gift from Saxon Medical had dwindled down to a few weeks supply. More was on order for when they became commercially available but now, thankfully, that would never happen.
Fenton wished that Tyson would return from his meeting for he felt the need of moral support. For the past two hours, ever since his conversation with Dodds, he had done little else but answer the telephone and deal with personal callers who wanted more details. He felt like the Caliph of Baghdad on a bad day but without the power to cut the heads from those who pleaded their case too strongly. If just one more person were to ask him if he was 'absolutely sure'…
'But are you absolutely sure?' asked Inspector Jamieson, making Fenton's foot itch. 'Yes, I am sure,' replied Fenton through gritted teeth. 'But for conclusive proof I have asked the Blood Transfusion Service to provide some group AB blood for us to test.'
'Who's bringing it?' asked Jamieson.
'Its owner. It has to be fresh blood. The donor will be coming here.'
Jamieson suggested that a police car should be sent to collect the donor so Fenton gave him Kelly's number. He passed it to his sergeant. 'See to it will you.' He walked over to the lab window and looked out at the greyness. 'So we have a plastic murderer,' he said, still with his back to Fenton.
'So it seems,' said Fenton. He could sense Jamieson's discomfort and could understand it. The man had been hunting a non-existent killer and there would be no glory in this for him, no self effacing media interviews, just another bumbling copper story. But there was still the Munro death. Fenton thought that he could read Jamieson's mind.
'I understand you have some ideas about the Munro death?' said Jamieson.
Fenton said, 'I think I know why he was murdered and I think I know who did it.' He brought out Neil Munro's notebook and said, 'I didn't understand this at first but I do now. It proves that Neil Munro knew that there was a problem with Saxon plastic and, what's more, he had worked out exactly what.'
'And you think this is why he was killed?'
'The license for Saxon plastic was worth millions.'
'To the Saxon Company,' said Jamieson.
'Saxon the company, Saxon the man.' said Fenton.
'Point taken.'
Charles Tyson came in to the room and broke the spell. He came straight over to Fenton. 'I think I owe you an apology,' he said.
'Let's just be glad it's over,' said Fenton.
'I should have listened to you earlier. I could kick myself.'
Fenton said, 'You took the only line possible. Besides I was out of my head with worry over Jenny at the time.'
Fenton's reference to Jenny had been for Jamieson's benefit. The policeman shifted his weight to the other foot but showed no signs of embarrassment. He said, 'Perhaps you will let me know when you have completed the blood tests?'
'Will do,' said Fenton.
Tyson asked, 'What blood tests?'
Fenton told him about the donor who was on his way.
For Maxwell Kirkpatrick, senior clerk with the Scotia Insurance Company (est. 1864) this was the kind of call he had been waiting for all his life. His previous pinnacle of achievement in becoming secretary of the Grants Hill
