‘Yes?’
‘It’s hard to say. She sounded a bit reserved, if you know what I mean. That’s the wrong word but I don’t know the right one. Inhibited maybe.’
‘Could that have been because she wasn’t alone?’
‘I suppose,’ agreed Malloy with a shrug. I just thought she was a bit disappointed I wasn’t going to come in straight away.‘
A commotion outside the door interrupted them. Grant went to investigate. The words ‘Why won’t you let me speak to someone?’ spoken with a French accent announced the arrival of Pierre Le Grice. The policemen on the door had turned him away. Grant calmed things down and brought Le Grice back in with him.
‘The others told me at the lab when I got in,’ Le Grice explained to Malloy. ‘I came straight here. How is she?’
‘Not good, I’m afraid,’ said Malloy.
‘And you. Why are you here?’ Le Grice asked Dewar.
‘I was concerned, just like you,’ Dewar replied, avoiding the real question.
Le Grice looked through the glass. ‘God, I hope you get the bastard who did this to her,’ he exclaimed.
‘We’ll do our best,’ said Grant not best impressed by the fiery Frenchman.
Sandra’s parents came out with their arms wrapped around each other in a search for comfort in their pain. Her mother kept a handkerchief pressed to her face as a nurse guided them gently through the door.
Malloy approached them saying, ‘Mr and Mrs Macandrew, I’m Sandra’s research supervisor. I think we met once before when Sandra came for interview.’ The conversation trailed off as Malloy went outside with the couple to offer his sympathy. Dewar and Grant moved to a corner to discuss the implications of Sandra’s phone call to Malloy before she was run down. Le Grice, finding himself alone, took the opportunity to go through and sit beside Sandra. He held her hand gently and spoke to her as if she were conscious and awake. The nurse with her smiled her approval. and busied herself elsewhere in the room.
On the other side of the glass partition Grant said, ‘So all we have to do now is find out who was with her in the institute last night when she phoned Malloy and we have our man.’
‘Or woman,’ agreed Dewar, recalling that there were two women on the list apart from Sandra. ‘That’s about the size of it.’
The two men lapsed to silence as they considered different things. Grant was thinking about arresting Sandra’s attacker. Dewar was considering the implications of someone having agreed to work for the Iraqis and wondering how far had they got.
‘A doctor wearing surgical greens came into the room and said rather angrily, ‘Look, I’ve been very patient. I know you all have good reasons for being here but if I see another official ID I’m going to throw up. This is my unit and I want you all out of here. You’re getting in the way of my staff. You’ll have to wait somewhere else. We’ll let you know if there’s any change.’
‘You’re quite right, we’re sorry,’ said Dewar. ‘It’s just that she’s a very important young lady at the moment.’
Predictably, thought Dewar, the doctor replied that all his patients were important.
Grant said, ‘Sorry Doc, but my men outside will have to stay.’
‘I accept that, but we must have room to move in here.’
Le Grice was called back from Sandra’s bedside and everyone was ushered out of the unit. Malloy rejoined them as Sandra’s parents went off with a nurse for tea and sympathy. ‘They’re in an awful state,’ said Malloy. ‘She’s their only child.’
As they moved away from the entrance to IC they heard the sound of an electronic alarm come from inside.
‘What’s that?’ said Malloy.
Dewar didn’t wait to discuss the possibilities, he rushed back into the unit to see feverish activity around Sandra’s bed.
‘What’s happened?’ he demanded, knowing that if he sounded officious enough someone would tell him.’
‘Ventilation’s failed,’ said a nurse bustling past him.
‘Hurry up with that other unit, demanded the doctor who’d asked them all to leave a few minutes earlier.’
Dewar moved round to where the ventilation unit that had been breathing for Sandra, had been moved back out of the way. The doctor in charge was now administering mouth to mouth through the plastic airway tube already inserted in her throat.
Dewar idly examined the detached flexible tubing leading from the unit, not knowing what he was looking for or even what exactly the fault had been. The machine seemed to have been running normally before he’d left the unit. He distinctly remembered seeing the bellows moving up and down and hearing the unit’s distinctive clicking noise when Le Grice opened the door to come out of Sandra’s room.
Something caught his eye where the tube attached to the metal outlet pipe on the side of the machine. His blood ran cold as he examined it more closely. The plastic tube had been cut cleanly at two places on its circumference. There was no danger of it falling apart or even of appearing abnormal but at least half the air being pumped out the machine would escape to the atmosphere rather than go into Sandra’s lungs. Someone had tried to kill her right under their noses and that someone had to be the Frenchman, Pierre Le Grice. He was the last person to have been with Sandra.
Dewar took a moment to calm himself. Le Grice was standing outside in the corridor with the others. If he had the arrogance to do what he’d done in the circumstances he probably had the nerve to gamble that no one would work out what had gone wrong just yet. And when they did there would be a good chance that it would be construed simply as a leaking hose. None of the medical or nursing staff would be looking for deliberate sabotage
The absolute priority now was to arrest Le Grice quietly and efficiently without any fuss or dramatics in a hospital. He stood back out of the way for a moment as a new respiratory unit was wheeled into place and connected to the electricity supply.
‘We’re losing her,’ came a voice from the ordered scrum round Sandra. ‘Please hurry.’
For a moment Dewar found himself mesmerised by the scene. He was seemingly invisible to the others in the room as they concentrated on the job. He could feel Sandra Macandrew’s life hanging in the balance and he was filled with anger and frustration as he had the awful feeling he was about to witness the moment of her death. The background bleeps became a monotone, the oscilloscope spikes became a featureless plane but the team kept working on.
A single bleep, a single spike on the scope, then nothing. Two beeps. A surge of optimism, a few more irregular bleeps then rhythmic harmony.
‘We’ve got her back. Thank you everyone.’
Never had electronic sound seemed so sweet, thought Dewar as the bleeps from the heart monitor became even and regular again, the hiss and click of the ventilator, music to his ears.
Dewar joined the others outside. ‘Touch and go for a moment there,’ he said. ‘But she’s okay again.’
‘Thank God,’ said Malloy. This was echoed by the others.
Dewar caught Le Grice’s eye and in that one moment the game was lost. Dewar’s own eyes gave him away. The two men held eye contact for a moment then Le Grice turned on his heel and started running along the corridor.
‘Quick! After him!’ shouted Dewar, all hope of a quiet civilised arrest gone to be replaced by the urgency of the situation. ‘He tried to kill Sandra!’
The two uniformed men from the door took off after Le Grice. Grant barked into his radio that back-up was required urgently at the hospital. He gave a description of Le Grice and ordered that the exits should be covered first.
Dewar took Malloy aside and said, ‘You’ve got to get back to the institute and close down your lab, Quarantine all Le Grice’s stuff. Above all else make the place secure even if it means shutting the whole institute down.’
Malloy seemed stunned. ‘I just can’t believe this is all happening,’ he complained.
‘Just do it!’ insisted Dewar. He turned to Grant and said, ‘Maybe it would be an idea to get some men to the institute just in case Le Grice gets away and tries to go back there. He’s blown it; he’s got nothing to lose now.’