Blood Brother

by Malcolm Rose

  “He has several lines of inquiry but insufficient data to progress beyond speculation. There is no obvious evidence of murder.”

  “We expect progress,” the voice retorted. “We can’t have a major hospital tainted for longer than absolutely necessary.”

  ****

  At some point in the night, Luke stirred. Maybe he was dreaming, maybe he was awake but drowsy. Beside him, he could just make out the jade pyramid in the dark. Perched on the cabinet by his bed, it looked sleek and ready. Getting up on one elbow, Luke glanced guiltily towards Malc’s faint flashing light and then reached out towards the ornament. Almost at once, he hesitated and withdrew his arm. Confused, he snuggled down again.

  Laying his head back on the pillow, he listened to the slow drumbeat of blood in the region of his left ear. In the night-time gloom, he wondered how the world would react if that pulse faded away. What would Jade do? How would his newfound parents deal with another loss? Would it bring them together again or tear them apart completely? Would the world miss him or would it just go on as it always had? One thing was for sure. With a wiped memory, Malc would never think of him again. His mobile would be assigned to a new forensic investigator and carry on as if Luke Harding had never existed.

  Luke sighed and told himself not to be silly. He guessed that he was being plagued by morbid thoughts because he was spending so much time in hospital among the ill, the dying and the dead.

  Even though Luke had turned away from the pyramid, he could almost feel its presence. Maybe he’d pluck up the courage to use it tomorrow night. It would be futile for fixing a headache and blurry vision, of course, but it couldn’t do any harm – apart from making him feel humiliated for falling back on superstition.

  ****

  When Luke woke up properly on Sunday morning, he was surprised to find himself lying on top of the bed, still fully dressed. He gazed at Malc and groaned. “Better order me two pomegranates,” he muttered, dragging himself upright and running a hand through his untidy hair. “The bigger, the better.”

  “You did not eat a main meal last night but I decided that sleep was more important than food so I did not disturb you.”

  “Thanks, doc.” He did his best to ignore the pyramid lurking on the bedside cabinet.

  After Luke had eaten breakfast and refreshed himself in the shower, Malc announced that his father was trying to contact him. Luke grabbed the dark green pyramid and then sat down opposite the telescreen. “Okay,” he said to Malc. “Put him on.”

  The larger-than-life version of Peter Sachs seemed to be in a good mood. “Mystery solved,” he declared. “Thanks to your mother.”

  “Oh, good,” Luke replied. “That’s how I like my mysteries – solved. But which mystery are we talking about?”

  Peter laughed. “You asked me if I’ve got a genetically identical brother – a twin. I haven’t. But, in a way, I have. I’m not the only one with my DNA.”

  Luke sat up straight and frowned. “How do you mean?”

  “I’d forgotten all about it, but Elisa reminded me. I donated my bone marrow to a leukaemia patient a few years back. Or maybe it was aplastic anaemia. Either way, he’s got my bone marrow. Bob’s your uncle.”

  Luke smiled at hearing one of his own favourite sayings coming out of his father’s mouth. Perhaps he’d learned it from Peter before he’d gone to school. But he refused to be distracted. “So, does that mean this man churns out the same DNA as you?”

  “Yes. Radiation’s used to destroy a recipient’s own bone marrow before a transplant. Then they’re given the donor’s. My bone marrow’s working away inside him, making his blood. It’s my blood, really, but it’s in him. It’ll have DNA identical to mine. His hair and skin – things like that – will be a mixture of his original genetic material and mine.”

  “Who was he?”

  “Ah. That’s the thing. I don’t know. It’s all done anonymously – for confidentiality.”

  “Can’t you look it up in the hospital’s records? If you’re denied access, I can get into most things.”

  Peter took a deep breath. “It’s not as simple as a restricted file. I got on-line this morning. There’s no record of the operation. Nothing at all. I guess that means someone’s wiped it out on purpose. I can assure you it happened, though.”

  Luke thought about it for a moment. Then he asked, “Well, who performed the operation?”

  “Ah.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t remember the junior staff – it was a while ago – but the surgeon was Theo Crouch.”

  “Right. I’ll go and see him, get it confirmed...”

  Peter interrupted. “You can go and see him but you won’t get anything out of him. He stopped work when he went down with Alzheimer’s.”

  “There’s got to be something solid if I’m going to convince Malc. Can’t you tell me anything about the patient?”

  Peter mumbled, “I do someone a favour and... now this.” He cocked his head on one side while he thought about it. “He’ll have been under fifty at the time. Older people aren’t recommended for bone-marrow replacement because the mortality rate goes flying up. He’ll have tissue compatible with mine. That’s why I would’ve been chosen. I must have been a good match to reduce the risk that his body would reject the transplant. I suppose he’ll still be taking immunosuppressant drugs to stop it happening now.” Peter’s image on the wall shrugged. “That’s about it.”

  “Well, it’s something, I suppose.”

  “It’s an explanation for my DNA turning up where I’ve never been.”

  “I’m afraid I need your pretend twin to prove that,” Luke replied. “It’s not so much a mystery solved as another lead.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Peter added. “I checked with Tara. Nyree Max had real transcranial direct current stimulation, not a placebo.”

  “Thanks,” Luke replied. “You’ve given me plenty to think about – and follow up. Before you break the connection...” He turned to one side and picked up the jade pyramid. “Here it is. Remember? I told you it’s supposed to make people better.”

  Luke’s father peered at the picture on his own screen and then snorted. “Unless it’s got something packed inside...” He shrugged. “Probably provides all the benefits of looking at a nice object. It makes you forget for a while how bad you’re feeling.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Luke was convinced that the pyramid was solid. It was too heavy to be hollow. Even so, he turned it upside down to look for a hidden opening in the base. There was nothing. He put it down on one of its shiny sides and stepped back. “Scan it, Malc. Is it solid? Could there be anything inside?”

  Hovering over the ornament, Malc examined it first in the visible region of the electromagnetic spectrum. Then he tried infrared radiation, ultraviolet light and X-rays. When he’d used every available scan, he reported, “The object appears to have been formed from a single piece of natural jadeite. I calculate from its height and the area of its base that it has a volume of 707.1 cubic centimetres. This material is known to have a density of 3.3 grams per cubic centimetre. Therefore, if it is solid jadeite, its mass should be 2.333 kilograms to the nearest gram.” Malc hovered over the pyramid and scooped it up briefly on his scales. “Its mass is 2.334 kilograms, which is within experimental error.”

  “It’s nothing but jade, then.”

  “Highly likely. However, you should note that my spectroscopic examination of the base has detected some specks of a dark solid.”

  “What is it?”

  “Unknown. I can do further tests in a darkened room.”

  Clutching the pyramid but keeping his fingers away from its base, Luke headed for the bathroom straightaway. He put it down on the surface beside the sink and said, “I’ll leave you to get on with it.”

  “If I identify the traces, I cannot enter the result into case notes because the origin of the substance is unknown. It may be contamination from any one of a large number of sourc
es.”

  “I know. But I still want you to check it out.”

  Left alone, Malc analysed the marks with a fluorescence technique. He sprayed phthaldialdehyde onto the dull surface and then swept intense ultraviolet light across it and detected tiny glistening spots typical of blood proteins. Then he performed cross-over electrophoresis with antibodies from some common species and found that the proteins on the pyramid reacted only with human antibodies. Emerging from the bathroom, Malc announced, “I have detected dried human blood on the base of the jade pyramid. It is too degraded for DNA analysis.”

  “Human blood,” Luke muttered to himself.

  “Confirmed, but its origin is unidentified.”

  Luke pushed his hair behind his ears with both hands and let out a long breath. “Interesting, though.”

  “It is a conspicuous but unhelpful finding.”

  “Has it been there long?”

  “Unknown. However, the degree of decomposition suggests that staining occurred several days ago.”

  Luke nodded. “This morning’s all about blood. What do you make of my father’s idea? Could there really be someone else going around with his blood and DNA?”

  “The suspect’s account is feasible, but Dr Sachs offered no proof that he has been a bone-marrow donor.”

  “But, if he was, that’d explain the DNA around Julian Bent and Charlie Illingworth, wouldn’t it?”

  “If the transplant took place, either the donor or the recipient would be responsible for the traces. In such an unusual situation, the possibility of wrongful arrest would be substantial.”

  “Mmm. Well, I reckon you can rule my father out.”

  “On what basis?”

  “He wouldn’t have deleted the medical record if he was going to blame a bone-marrow patient. That file would be his alibi. It’s much more likely the recipient wiped it out. With no evidence that the operation ever happened, everyone would think the DNA belongs to the donor, and only the donor.”

  “Speculation.”

  “Yeah. But it makes sense.”

  “Dr Sachs is very clever. He could have removed the details of the transplant to prompt such speculation.”

  Luke winced. “That’s one twist too many.”

  “The operation he described might not have taken place at all. He might have invented it as a false lead.”

  Luke could not deny the possibility.

  “It is all speculation,” Malc concluded, “because you have not established that a crime has taken place. Despite this, you should note that Dr Sachs would have had many opportunities to manipulate hospital records whereas a patient would not.”

  Luke still didn’t believe it, but Malc was right about one thing. Luke needed something more solid than guesswork. “See if you can get a list of everyone in York who’s taking immunosuppressant drugs.”

  “Processing. This task may be prolonged if there are several different suppliers of the drugs.”

  “All right.” Changing direction, Luke asked, “Is the Institute of Biomechanical Research open today? And is Oscar Hislop in it? I want to know what he was up to yesterday.”

  Malc found the information within a minute. “There is always at least one member of staff in the Institute of Biomechanical Research because human tissue can become available at any time,” he said. “The officer on duty is required to assess the value of any corpse, and then express an interest in it or reject it. The officer staffing the institute today is not Oscar Hislop. He will report for work tomorrow.”

  Luke smiled wryly. “A day off! I wouldn’t mind one of those, but I’d better talk to Crawford Gallagher and Nyree Max about the blood on the pyramid. I’ll visit the Children’s Ward as well. That’s where Nyree met the Heather Man. Maybe someone there knows him. First, though, I’m going to talk to Jade. Get me a link, please.”

  Luke laughed when he saw his girlfriend on the telescreen. For once, she looked bleary-eyed. “Heavy night, eh?”

  She nodded. “Ever since people got to know I’m the musician for the International Youth Games, the crowds at my gigs have doubled. I get more bookings and they go on a lot longer.”

  “You’re in demand.”

  “Yeah. Like a forensic investigator who keeps getting it right.” Jade took a drink from a mug. “How’s tricks?”

  “What’s that you’re drinking?”

  “Hot chocolate, from York. The best in the world. You’d better bring me some back.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but I wanted to ask you something,” he said. “If you had a stunner of a headache and someone said there was a wonder cure for it, would you take it?”

  Jade didn’t hesitate. “Of course I would. Nothing to lose.”

  “What if science said it couldn’t possibly work? What if every doctor in the land agreed it was nonsense?”

  “Doctors and science understand everything, do they? No. If there’s a wonder cure, I’d still want it. Let’s face it, I can’t explain what makes a really good piece of music, but I don’t let it stop me trying for that bit of magic.” Jade wiped her eyes with both hands. “But this isn’t about me. It’s about you, FI Harding. You’re still bad.”

  Luke shook his head, even though the hammers were still pounding the inside of his skull.

  Jade ignored his gesture. “What’s this wonder cure you’ve got?”

  “It’s silly, really,” Luke answered. “Do you remember Nyree Max coming in to see me at hospital? She was carrying a green pyramid.”

  “Yeah. A little girl. She said the pyramid cured her.” She took another gulp of hot chocolate and then beamed at Luke. “She also said jade’s good for you.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “It’s her magic pyramid you’ve got, then.”

  “It’s right over there,” he said, nodding towards the table.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “It’s got some dried blood on it.”

  Jade shrugged. “So what? You’re just inventing excuses. Nyree nicked her finger and spilled a drop on it. Something like that. Use it, Luke. What’s the worst that can happen? People will rubbish it. That’s all. What do they know? Anyway, they’re not the ones with the pain in their heads. You are. And you didn’t ask for it, did you? You didn’t give it permission to invade you. It just came anyway. I think you’re entitled to kick it out any way you can.”

  “Hmm.”

  Jade put on a stern voice. “You always let your brain rule. This time, give it a rest. Sounds like it needs one. Ignore your brain and... like... go with your heart.”

  “My heart’s a pump. That’s all. It doesn’t rule anything, apart from my pulse.”

  “You sound like Malc. You know what I mean. Give it a go. Okay?”

  Unable to refuse her, he nodded. “All right. Tonight maybe.”

  “Definitely.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Walking towards Crawford Gallagher’s riverside shack, Luke felt more upbeat. A chat with Jade normally did the trick, even when she talked nonsense about a trinket like the pyramid.

  Spotting Gallagher coming in the opposite direction, Luke made an instant decision to follow him. Luke turned his back and headed for a launch moored to the bank. Boarding the motorboat, he squatted down and ordered Malc to hide behind the control room. After Crawford had ambled past, blind to the forensic investigator and Mobile Aid to Law and Crime, Luke stood up again. “Come on,” he whispered to Malc. “Covert surveillance mode.”

  At the bridge, Crawford turned up Museum Walkway, heading for the city centre.

  Luke lingered behind, an anonymous figure among many, while Malc kept tabs on the artist by moving from building to building above and behind the target.

  Dressed formally in a dark suit, white shirt and red tie, Crawford stopped outside York Theatre, possibly to get his breath back, possibly to check if anyone was following him. The old man did not think to look up where Malc’s video system was recording his behaviour. On the opposite side of the bus
y corridor stood the York Mint. Inside the grand building, workers churned out identity cards for most of northern England.

  Luke leaned stealthily against the wall of the City Hall’s Registry Department and waited.

  Instead of crossing over towards the Mint, Crawford checked that no one was paying him any attention and then slipped furtively down an alleyway behind the theatre.

  Luke did not dare to make a move. If he followed the healer, Crawford was certain to notice him in such a narrow passageway. He just had to hope that Malc was in a position to monitor what Crawford was doing.

  Two minutes later, Malc returned obediently to Luke’s side. “The target has entered a disused structure. You can pursue him without being seen.”

  “Show me.”

  As soon as Luke turned off the main freeway, he found himself in a dank alley. At the end of it, there was a rickety door with a padlock. Reaching it, Luke hesitated and scratched his head. “First obstacle.”

  “The subject did not seem to use a key,” Malc told him.

  “Oh.” Luke put out his right hand and grabbed the padlock. Immediately, the whole contraption – padlock and staple – swung free. It was in place only for show. Cautiously, Luke pushed the door inwards and let sunlight penetrate the inside.

  He expected to see a derelict room but he was wrong. Narrow stone steps led down to a dark tunnel. The ancient steps were so worn that they had become curved in shape. Luke shrugged. “Oh, well. Here goes.”

  By the time he’d taken two steps, the door swung shut behind him and he was left in total darkness. “Minimum light, Malc. Just so I can see a few metres ahead.”

  Malc provided a faint beam and said, “For security, I will go first.”

  “All right. Minimum sound level as well, please.”

  At the bottom of the long series of steps, a grim subway went to the right. The suffocating cave seemed to burrow under the theatre. There was only one way to go, so Luke had to be following Crawford Gallagher, but there was no sign of him.

  Malc manoeuvred himself carefully so that he did not scrape against the brick walls on either side. Luke stooped a little because the ceiling was not far above his head.