by Ken McClure
‘ I’ve also asked to see the medical officer’s report on Little when he was arrested.’
‘ He’s just put my sergeant on to that. Coffee while we wait?’
‘ Black, no sugar,’ said Steven.
McClintock left the office and returned a few moments later, holding two plastic cups by the rims with the tips of his fingers. ‘I couldn’t believe it when Santini told me about the samples this morning,’ he said to Steven as he handed him his coffee. ‘You must be thinking we’re a right bunch of hicks up here.’
‘ If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years it’s that there’s no such thing as a completely efficient organisation and the bigger an outfit is, the less likely that becomes,’ said Steven. ‘Scratch the surface and you’ll find the flaws. ‘Doesn’t matter if it’s a hospital or a bank, the police force or the army, they’ve all got things to hide and usually plenty of staff only too willing to do the hiding.’
‘ A cynic after my own heart,’ said McClintock ruefully.
‘ Realist,’ said Steven.
‘ It’s still bloody embarrassing,’ said McClintock.
‘ It’s a damned good thing you got the DNA match.’
‘ Bloody right.’
McClintock’s sergeant knocked and came in carrying a cardboard file holder. ‘The chief super said to give you this,’ he said. ‘It’s the MO’s report on the prisoner, Little.’
Steven nodded his thanks as the phone started to ring. He heard McClintock say, ‘Right, we’re on our way.’
McClintock dropped the phone in its cradle and said to Steven, ‘Forensics have come up with the log.’
As they drove over to the lab, Steven asked, ‘Any idea what happened to your Doctor Lee when he left?’
‘ Last I heard was that he and his wife had sold up and bought a cottage somewhere up on Speyside. Makes perfect sense I suppose,’ said McClintock.
‘ How so?’
‘ It’s distillery country,’ replied McClintock.
‘ And the others?’
‘ George Chisholm moved to the south of Spain; spends his time playing golf with former clients I shouldn’t wonder. Bill Currie became a security consultant with a big insurance company in Glasgow. Twice the pay for half the effort they tell me. I’ve no idea what happened to Hutton. Why?’
‘ Just wondered,’ said Steven.
They arrived at the lab and McClintock showed his warrant card when asked to do so. Steven did the same.
‘ Dr McDougal is expecting you,’ said the white-coated woman who had been detailed to escort them. Steven recognised the smell of medical labs the world over, a mixture of chemical solvents and air that had been heated by Bunsen burners, the ever-present hint of something vaguely unpleasant in the air but not enough to permit precise identification. He looked through the glass windows on one side of the corridor as they moved along and counted half a dozen white-coated workers sitting on stools at lab benches. It made him wonder about perception and reality. Forensic science was perceived by the public as being a glamorous occupation. The reality was analysing vomit and poking about in other people’s dirty underwear. What did the workers see, he wondered, the glamour or the reality? He noted three high quality Leitz microscopes, a couple of Perkin Elmer spectrophotometers and a wide range of Hybaid DNA sequencing apparatus: the lab was well equipped.
McDougal turned out to be a serious-looking man in his early forties. He was balding at the front and wore spectacles with unfashionably large frames, which when worn on a pear shaped face that almost narrowed to a point at his chin, gave him the appearance of a large insect. He smiled however and got up to hold out his hand when Steven was introduced. ‘I’m hugely embarrassed at not being able to comply with your request,’ he said. ‘But my predecessor… well, let’s just say that things could only get better.’
‘ I appreciate the problems were before your time,’ Steven assured him.
‘ This is the scene of crime forensics log that you wanted to see,’ said McDougal, handing over a large manila envelope.
‘ May I hang on to this?’ Steven asked him.
‘ Of course, it’s your copy. Is there anything else I can do to help?’
Steven was pleased to see that McDougal’s desire to help seemed genuine. ‘Are any of the forensic team who worked on the Julie Summers murder under Dr Lee still on the staff?’ he asked.
McDougal thought for a moment before saying, ‘To be honest, there was a bit of a radical shake-up in the lab after Dr Lee’s departure. Quite a few people left for pastures new. I think maybe Carol Bain is the only one left from that time.’
‘ Do you think I could have a word with her?’
‘ Of course,’ replied McDougal. ‘Just give me a moment.’ He left the room and McClintock got up and said, ‘I’ll wait outside in the car.’
Steven nodded his appreciation. He was considering opening the manila envelope in the interim when McDougal arrived back with Carol Bain.
Steven’s first impression was that there was a woman like Carol Bain in every lab he’d ever known. His guess was that she had been there for over twenty years, did everything by the book and gave unswerving loyalty to whoever was in charge. He’d put money on her not being married and possibly still living with her mother — with whom she went on holiday with to the same resort and same hotel every year.
Carol Bain gave Steven a cautious smile and sat down opposite, taking practised care to keep her knees together and turned slightly to the side. She kept her back straight and clasped her hands together in her lap. Her greying hair was swept back and held in a bun; a cameo brooch secured the collar of her high blouse collar.
‘ Carol has been with the service for, what is it now Carol? Twenty-three, twenty-four years?’ said McDougal.
‘ Twenty-three,’ smiled Carol.
‘ And no time off for good behaviour,’ said McDougal.
Carol looked down and smiled wanly as if she’d heard the joke many times before.
‘ Well, I’ll leave you two to talk,’ said McDougal. ‘Let me know when Dr Dunbar is ready to leave, will you Carol?’
‘ I understand that you’re the only member of staff left from the team who worked on the Julie Summers murder, Miss… Mrs Bain?’ said Steven.’
‘ Miss,’ said Carol. ‘I suppose that’s right,’ agreed Carol. ‘Dr Lee retired after the case, John moved on to pastures new and Samantha decided that lab work wasn’t really for her — she was the most junior member of the team: she’d only been with us a few months.’
‘ Did you actually attend the scene of the crime yourself?’ asked Steven.
Carol Bain shook her head. ‘No, it was just John and Dr Lee as far as I remember.’
‘ John?’
‘ John Merton, the senior scientific officer on the team at the time.’
‘ Did you personally deal with Julie Summers’ body?’
‘ No, there was no reason to, I worked on the lab samples that John and Dr Lee brought in.’
‘ Can you remember which particular aspect you worked on?’
‘ Of course, the semen recovered from the body. Recovery of the DNA was our top priority. It always is in rape cases.’
‘ Couldn’t have been easy,’ said Steven. ‘I read that an attempt had been made to clean her up.’
‘ I don’t remember that being a problem,’ said Carol. ‘There was certainly enough material for our purpose. You don’t need much.’
‘ You actually did the DNA sequencing?’ Steven asked
‘ John and I both did it. We didn’t have an automatic sequencer at the time. We did it manually and independently of each other, pouring our own acrylamide gels and doing everything the hard way. Nowadays we have a machine.’
‘ Why did you both do it?’
‘ It was a sensible precaution. DNA sequencing could be a bit iffy in those days. Gels could leak; bands could run together, smudging often occurred. As it turned out, we both got reasonably clean gels wit
h identical banding so there was no doubt.’
‘ And that was what convicted David Little,’ said Steven.
‘ A one hundred percent match with the DNA sample obtained from one of the men in the village who happened to be David Little was what did it,’ said Carol.
‘ Dr Lee must have been relieved?’
‘ It’s always good to get a clear result but I suppose you’re referring to the loss of the other samples?’
‘ Any idea how they came to be lost?’ asked Steven.
‘ Not really. Dr Lee had been working on some of them — fibres from the girl’s clothes I think. He liked to get involved in the practical aspects of lab work but in reality…’
‘ He was a bit of a liability?’
‘ Latterly,’ agreed Carol Bain, looking down at the floor again as if uncomfortable about speaking ill of a superior. I suppose he must have become confused when returning the Summers samples to the storage rack. Instead of putting them back in the fridge he must have put the whole lot out in the discard tray instead. Everything had gone to the incinerator before anyone realised what had happened. John usually kept a watchful eye on him when he was in the lab but he couldn’t do that all the time.’
‘ So you were left with no scene of crime samples at all apart from the semen recovered? No evidence apart from the DNA profile?
‘ Luckily the semen samples were in another fridge — the one next door in the sequencing suite. But it isn’t actually true to say that we had no other evidence; we did; it was the samples that we didn’t have any more.’
Steven looked at her for a moment, feeling slightly puzzled. ‘Are you saying that the samples were analysed before they were lost?’ he asked.
‘ Well, yes,’ said Carol, as if she’d never imagined anything else.
‘ I had the impression they had been discarded before they could be analysed,’ said Steven. ‘And that’s why no corroborating forensic evidence was offered in court.’
Carol shook her head and said, ‘No, I think the Fiscal’s office didn’t want to risk offering evidence that the defence might conceivably challenge. If defence counsel had asked for an independent analysis of anything we couldn’t produce, the prosecution case might have collapsed.’
‘ Ah,’ said Steven. ‘So there are reports available for the other samples?’
‘ The samples had been in the lab for a couple of days before Dr Lee discarded them so some if not all of them must have already been dealt with. It was a very high profile case.’
‘ I think there’s been a misunderstanding somewhere along the line,’ said Steven. ‘I was led to believe that there was no forensic evidence available apart from the DNA matches.’
‘ No, it should all be in the files,’ said Carol.
‘ You don’t happen to remember anything about it, do you?’ asked Steven.
Carol shook her head. ‘I’m sorry; it was such a long time ago but I do remember it all pointed to the accused, David Little.’
‘ Miss Bain, you’ve been a big help,’ said Steven.
‘ I’ll tell Dr McDougal we’re through,’ said Carol.
When McDougal returned, Steven explained about the misunderstanding, saying that it wasn’t the actual forensic samples he needed access to, the reports on them would be fine.’
McDougal looked blank. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘ I understand from Ms Bain that forensic analysis was carried out on the samples before they were destroyed. If I could just take a look at the reports?’
McDougal seemed bemused. He held up his palms and hunched his shoulders. ‘I’m sorry; I didn’t find any record of anything being done. I too was under the impression that the samples had been lost before they could be analysed. There’s nothing in the files. Was Carol quite sure?’
‘ Seemed to be,’ replied Steven flatly.
Carol Bain was called back to repeat what she had told Steven.
‘ Did you actually see the lab reports yourself, Carol?’ McDougal asked her.
‘I may have done,’ said Carol. ‘But I have no recollection. It was all such a long time ago. As I told Dr Dunbar, the only thing I remember clearly was Dr Lee saying that the evidence backed up the case against David Little.’
‘ So the samples were analysed,’ said McDougal quietly. He turned to Steven and said, ‘I don’t know what to say. There’s definitely no trace of these reports in our records.’
‘ Maybe they were discarded after the samples were lost,’ said Carol. ‘I mean, if the Fiscal felt that the evidence couldn’t be used then Dr Lee might have decided that there would have been no point in keeping them.’
‘ That might have been the thinking at the time,’ said McDougal, his tone suggesting that this would be quite wrong in his book.
Steven turned to Carol and said, ‘If you didn’t do any work on the missing samples yourself then the analysis must have been carried out by one or more of the others you mentioned. That would be Dr Lee or Mr Merton or… I’ve forgotten the other person you mentioned?’
‘ Samantha Styles. She was the junior SO on the team; she left lab work and subsequently trained to be a nurse. She’s a nursing sister now; I bumped into her at the Western General last year when I was visiting my mother. Time flies.’
‘ Indeed it does,’ said Steven thoughtfully.
‘ Well, Doctor Dunbar, I’m not sure there is much else we can do to help in the circumstances,’ said McDougal. ‘Was it one particular piece of evidence you were concerned with?’
‘ It was a detail,’ said Steven, recovering from the disappointment of having his hopes raised and then having them dashed by the absence of the paperwork. ‘I suppose the main thing to know is that there was corroborative evidence that pointed to David Little.’
Steven left the building and got into McClintock’s car.
‘ Get what you wanted?’
‘ One of the scientists remembers that the lost forensic samples were analysed before they were lost.’
‘ Thank God for that.’
‘ She also remembers Lee saying that the reports backed up the case against David Little.’
‘ There you are then,’ said McClintock.
‘ But the reports have gone missing.’
‘ Jesus,’ muttered McClintock. He drove in silence for a few minutes before asking, ‘Is it really such a big deal?’
‘ Maybe not,’ conceded Steven although, in truth, he wasn’t sure himself. He had reservations about the whole affair.
‘ Let sleeping dogs lie?’ said McClintock.
Steven smiled at McClintock’s obvious desire to see the back of him.
‘ I haven’t decided yet,’ he said truthfully. He saw McClintock’s hands tighten on the wheel.
‘ But the DNA evidence against Little was watertight,’ said McClintock. ‘And you now know that the lab did have other evidence against him, even if they couldn’t use it. What’s left?’
‘ I’d be happier if I knew what that evidence was,’ said Steven. He was also thinking that he would have been more comfortable if the pathologist hadn’t been a drunk.
In spite of what Carol Bain had said about the reports not being required why would Lee destroy them? Surely he would just have filed them along with the DNA evidence. Maybe he still had them in his personal files? Steven saw this as a distinct possibility. It could be that they just hadn’t been transferred when the case was over and big changes were being made in the lab. ‘You don’t happen to know where about on Speyside Lee moved to?’ he asked.
‘ You’re not thinking of going to see him?’ exclaimed McClintock.
‘ I might,’ said Steven.
McClintock sighed slowly. ‘Must be eight, nine years since he retired. If he’s kept up his drinking you’ll be lucky if he knows what day of the week it is.’
They had arrived back at Fettes. As Steven got out the car he said, ‘Like I said, I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to do.’
‘ Get wise,’ advised McClintock
. ‘Go back to the sunny south.’
Steven smiled but added, ‘If you could find out where Lee is living, I’d be grateful.’ He gave McClintock his mobile number.
The sun had come out and Steven decided he didn’t want to go back to his hotel room. He wanted to be out in the fresh air, away from the smell of stale tobacco that accompanied McClintock. He needed to stretch his legs and time to think. He opted for a walk through the botanical gardens, which were close to police headquarters and where spring was definitely in the air as he walked along avenues lined with budding trees.
He found a quiet bench near the Chinese garden where he could enjoy the warmth of the sun on his face while he went through the paperwork that McDougal had given him. He started with the list of forensic samples taken at the scene of the crime. It seemed thorough and comprehensive and recorded Ronald Lee and John Merton, as the forensic lab staff attending the scene of the crime.
Half way down the list he found what he was looking for. Scrapings had been taken from under Julie Summers’ fingernails. A visual examination had suggested that blood and possibly skin were present under the three fingers of her left hand, all of which had been broken. Three separate samples had been taken and were labelled 21, 22 and 23 in the inventory.
Steven raised his head and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the sun on his eyelids and thinking that this more or less cleared up any worry he might have had about what Combe had claimed. Biological material had been found under Julie’s fingernails and although he hadn’t seen the written report, Carol Bain remembered Lee saying that the analysis had positively identified David Little as her assailant. ‘Hallelujah,’ he murmured. Combe’s confession could be buried with the rest of him.
Feeling more at ease, Steven started reading through the medical officer’s report on David Little. He only got to the second paragraph before he felt a hollow feeling in his stomach and it grew bigger by the second. According to the doctor who’d examined him, there were no marks on Little’s face. The only recorded scar on his entire body was a single three-inch scratch mark on his left forearm.
Steven looked at the date of report. The examination had been carried out on January 14 ^ th, eleven days after the murder. Would scratch marks have had time to heal? He thought not — at any rate, not completely and the examining doctor would have looked in great detail for evidence of any such marking. How could Julie Summers have had Little’s blood and tissue under three of her nails when he only had a single scratch mark on his arm? This was something he thought he would now have to ask Lee personally.