Chameleon

Jamieson nodded.

'Have you tackled him?'

'About the instruments, yes'

'And?'

'He said he took them to prevent them being interfered with.'

'Then he thinks the same as you?'

'Or he is doing the interfering,' said Jamieson.

'A surgeon?' exclaimed Sue. 'You think that Mr Thelwell is infecting his own patients?'

'I said that it's a possibility I'm considering,' replied Jamieson. 'I have to and apart from anything else, the man clearly has a problem. He's quite paranoid.'

'But that doesn't necessarily mean that he's psychotic,' retorted Sue.

'No,' agreed Jamieson. 'But he is a liar. He's been telling his family that he has been going to choir practises when he's not.'

'So, he's having an affair,' said Sue. 'I don't see what the missed choir practises have to do with the deaths in the hospital.'

'They haven't,' agreed Jamieson. 'It was the deaths outside the hospital I was thinking about.

Sue looked at Jamieson for a moment as if he had gone mad. She searched for words but remained speechless for a long moment until finally she managed to protest. 'You can't mean it! You are talking about the murders in the city?'

'He's a surgeon. The bodies have been dissected. He is paranoid to the point of being clinically borderline in my opinion and he lies about where he's going in the evenings. He interferes in the supply of sterile instruments to the theatre and the body of the last victim was found in the incinerator of this hospital. Food for thought?'

'Is he still operating?' asked Sue.

'No I had to suspend him when Richardson found the infecting organism in his swab but when he gets his final clearance from the Public Health Lab there's nothing I can do to stop him.

'If you're really serious about this, can't you have a word with the police?' asked Sue.

'I need something more than bad feelings before I go to the police about a consultant surgeon and pillar of the community,' said Richardson.

'But what about these choir practices he says he goes to?' said Sue. 'Where does he really go? '

Jamieson nodded and said, 'That's something I intend to find out very soon.'

'You mean you are going to follow him?' asked an astonished Sue.

'Exactly that. He doesn't know that I know about the choir practice lies. That gives me an edge.'

'You don't think you're taking this detective bit a little far?' said Sue. 'Maybe the professionals should do this sort of thing?'

Jamieson nodded and said, 'I know what you mean but it's a simple enough thing to follow Thelwell just once to see where he really goes. If I find out anything, I promise I'll hand the whole business over to the police.'

Sue smiled. 'All right,' she said. 'Just once.'

At Hugh Crichton's suggestion, Jamieson and Sue moved their things to a second floor room in the residency rather than have her move out into the apartment that Sue's father had arranged for her. Ostensibly this was so that Jamieson could remain on hand in the hospital at all times and still be with his wife but Jamieson's slight resentment of Sue's father's involvement in their lives had played a part in the decision. This was not mentioned. As yet, Jamieson had never openly complained to Sue about her father's constant involvement in their marriage because he knew that it would sound ungrateful after all Sue's father had done for them during his long stay in hospital but the potential for trouble in the future remained.

Clive Evans gave them a hand with their luggage. 'No more heavy lifting for you,' Jamieson said to Sue.

'It's a bit early for that,' smiled Sue.

When they had moved everything upstairs and Evans had left them Jamieson noticed that Sue had become much more subdued. 'What's up?' he asked.

Sue looked up at him from the chair she was sitting on and said, 'I suddenly feel ridiculous.'

'Why?'

'It seemed the right thing to do to come here to be with you but now that I am here I feel like a silly schoolgirl. I should have stayed in Kent.'

'No you shouldn't,' said Jamieson softly. 'Its lovely having you near me. We belong together. But it's not going to be much fun for you. I've got to get to the bottom of this business.'

Sue suddenly burst into tears and put her head on Jamieson's shoulder. 'Oh dear,' she said. 'Does being pregnant mean behaving like this all the time?'

Jamieson held her and shushed her gently. 'Dry you eyes,' he said. 'We'll go out to dinner. The three of us.' He patted Sue» s stomach and she smiled.

They were half way through dinner when Sue suddenly laid down her knife and fork and looked at Jamieson, wide eyed.

'What's wrong?' asked Jamieson.

'The women weren't infected during their operations at all,' said Sue.

'I beg your pardon,' said Jamieson, taken aback at Sue's sudden statement.

'The infected women in the ward,' said Sue. 'They didn't pick up the infection during surgery at all.'

'Go on,' said Jamieson, putting down his knife and fork.

'The infection was caused by something in the post-op ward.'

'It's been cleaned and disinfected,' said Jamieson.

'I didn't mean that.'

'Then what?'

'Their dressings,' said Sue.

'Their dressings?'

'The chances are that the women all had their dressings changed during the same ward round. That's when the infection could have set in.' That's why they all developed the illness together. The bug was in the dressings.'

'Contaminated dressings?' said Jamieson quietly. 'God, you could be right.' He left the table to phone the hospital from the public phone at the side of the bar. He watched Sue play idly with her cutlery while he waited for the hospital to answer. It seemed to take an age.

'Kerr Memorial,' said the voice.

'Surgical gynaecology,' said Jamieson.

'They're engaged at the moment. Will you hold caller?'

Jamieson said that he would through gritted teeth. He shrugged as Sue caught his eye.

'Surgical, Sister Roache speaking.'

'This is Dr Jamieson, Sister. I need some information about the application of surgical dressings in the ward.'

'What exactly do you want to know?' asked the nurse.

'Tell me everything. I want to know your routine for changing them. I also want to know when you do it and the order in which they're done. I need to know who does them and how often the routine changes. Everything.'

'Let me see now,' said Sister Roache. 'New patients are treated on an individual basis so for them, it could be any time. After a couple of days on the ward patients would have their dressings changed after morning ward rounds, say some time from ten thirty onwards. It would be done consecutively.'

'All of them?'

'Yes.'

'But you have seventeen patients in the ward at present if I remember rightly?' said Jamieson.

'Seventeen, yes.'

Jamieson cursed under his breath. If all of the women had had their dressings changed consecutively why had only eight developed wound infections?

'Size!' whispered Sue who had come across to eavesdrop on the conversation. 'Ask about the size of the dressings!'

'What size of dressings were used in the changes Sister?' Jamieson waited while she went to check.

There was an excitement in Sister Roache's voice when she came back to the phone. 'I think you may have your common factor Doctor,' she said. 'The eight infected women were given 200mm dressings the others had various other sizes used on them.'

'Were the 200mm dressings all from the same pack?' asked Jamieson with baited breath.

'It would appear so,' replied the nurse.

'Are there any left from that pack?' asked Jamieson.

'I'd have to check.'

'If there are put them to one side. Don't let anyone near them. I have to get them to the lab.'