The Patient Killer (A DCI Morton Crime Novel Book 4) (27 page)

Morton was quickly becoming exasperated. It was going to be a long afternoon. He rattled off the dictionary definition. ‘The unlawful killing of a human being in the Queen’s Peace, with malice aforethought.’

Carruthers whistled. ‘That is one hell of a mouthful. You’re going to have to break it down for me.’

‘Perhaps,’ Morton said slyly, ‘you should consult your lawyer.’

They both turned to Jacob Carruthers, who had until now been watching the verbal sparring as if it were a tennis match. Morton noted that despite having an expensive-looking pen and a thick A4 notepad, he had yet to write anything down.

‘Nephew?’ the doctor prompted.

‘It means, did you kill anyone while not a soldier, and intend to do it.’

‘Thank you, Jacob. No, I did not.’

Huh. That’s not quite the definition.
‘Did you intend to kill or cause grievous bodily harm to Mrs Kennard?’ Morton corrected him.

‘Grievous bodily harm? I’m afraid I’m not au fait with that one, either.’

It really was going to be a long afternoon.

For three hours Morton went round in circles. Eventually they came to the topic of Olivia Hogge, and here Morton felt on surer ground.

‘This is a lab report stating that blood containing your DNA was found in Olivia Hogge’s bathroom plumbing,’ Morton said. ‘Do you deny it?’

Carruthers picked up the report, examined it, and set it back down. His lawyer craned over to take a look.

‘No, I don’t deny it.’

Aha!
Finally, Morton had him. ‘Can you explain the presence of your blood in her flat?’ Morton asked.

‘Certainly.’

‘You killed her and cut yourself while doing it, didn’t you?’

‘My, my, you do have an active imagination. No, nothing so exciting, I’m afraid. My DNA is there because
she
cut herself.’

‘She cut herself? How does that explain the presence of
your
DNA?’ Morton gave a thin-lipped smile.

‘Because, my dear boy, I donated bone marrow to her several months ago. If you’d have done your homework, you’d have known that donor DNA can be found in the blood of bone marrow recipients. There is nothing at all untoward about my DNA being found in her apartment.’ Carruthers gave a wide grin that bordered on a snarl.

‘Interview paused 21:33.’ Morton hit the stop button on the recorder and stormed from the room.

***

I
t was known as chimera DNA: one person, two sets of DNA. Sometimes it could occur in the womb when two eggs merged. In this case it occurred because Olivia Hogge was a bone marrow recipient.

Her blood had DNA in it from her donor. When the crime scene team compared it to Olivia Hogge’s sample DNA, which was taken from an oral swab, it didn’t match.

It didn’t take long for Morton to confirm that what Carruthers was claiming
could
be the truth, but it also didn’t rule out the doctor having cut himself while cutting Olivia Hogge’s body open in her bathtub.

First things first. Morton had to confirm that Hogge had received a donation from Carruthers. He couldn’t check with the coroner, because Hogge’s bones had been removed (and had yet to turn up; Morton suspected they were long since disposed of in the Thames). He picked up his mobile and called NHS Blood and Transplant.

Voicemail. Damn.

Morton looked at his watch. It was getting on for ten o’clock. It would have to wait ‘til morning.

T
uesday May 5th 09:30

NHS Blood and Transplant returned Morton’s call the next morning.

‘Morton,’ he answered.

‘Detective Morton, this is Dr Giles Sinclair. I received your voicemail.’

‘And?’

‘And I’m afraid I have some confusing news. Olivia Hogge did not have a bone marrow transplant on the NHS.’

‘How is that possible?’

‘I don’t know.’

Was Carruthers lying? Was it all a ruse? Could he be using his unique scenario to literally get away with murder?

‘Doc, based on Hogge’s charts, how long would you have expected her to live?’

‘I would have expected her to be dead by now.’

‘Is it possible that she had a bone marrow transplant without it being done on the books?’

‘Theoretically?’

There was that word again. Theoretically. It seemed to be the Get Out of Jail Free card of lawyers and administrators. ‘Fine. Let’s assume it’s hypothetical.’

‘It’s possible. Bone marrow transplantation is relatively painless for the recipient. It doesn’t need them to be put under general anaesthetic. The equipment required is minimal.’

‘What kind of equipment?’

‘A central venous catheter. It’s a silicone tube.’

‘Which Carruthers would have access to,’ Morton said.

‘Theoretically,’ Sinclair agreed.

Morton wanted to strangle him. ‘And Hogge was on the waiting list?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can you tell me if Carruthers would have been a match? You’ve got records for him, don’t you?’

‘Hang on a moment... yes. He would have been a match.’

Well, there’s reasonable doubt
, Morton thought. ‘Why wouldn’t he donate on the books?’

‘He’s too old. You can only join the register between sixteen and thirty.’

‘So, he couldn’t have donated?’

‘Oh, he could have. We only let youngsters join because they’re the best candidates, and we have limited funds to do the requisite testing. There’s nothing that would preclude someone older from being able to viably donate bone marrow.’

‘Damn. Thanks for your time, Doctor.’

Morton rang off. That settled it. Carruthers had a perfectly plausible story.

Morton went off in search of the prosecutor, relayed the information, and they headed down to the interview suite to resume Morton’s interrogation of Byron Carruthers.

Carruthers looked like hell after a night in the cells, but he wasn’t ready to admit it. ‘I slept fine. Perhaps it’s because my conscience is clear.’

‘This is a resumption of the interview of Byron Carruthers. Present in the room are DCI Morton, Kieran O’Connor of the Crown Prosecution Service, Byron Carruthers, and his solicitor, Jacob Carruthers.’

‘I gather from your sulking that you now know about chimera DNA,’ Carruthers said in an I-told-you-so sing-song tone that was infuriating.

‘Where were you on the night of Primrose Kennard’s murder?’ Morton said through his teeth.

‘I might have been at home. I might not. My medication makes me drowsy, you know.’

‘Was your wife there?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, you wouldn’t know if you weren’t there, either.’

‘I suppose that’s true.’ Carruthers suddenly clutched at his side as if he had been stabbed.

‘Are you OK, Doctor Carruthers?’ Morton said with almost genuine concern.
If the old goat dies mid-interrogation, I won’t be able to lock him up.

‘Just a little pain. Did you have another question, or am I free to go now?’ He looked over to his nephew the lawyer (who still hadn’t written a single note) as if to ask if he was free.

‘What about the night of Ms Hogge’s murder?’

‘When was that, again?’

‘Three weeks ago on Saturday night.’

‘I can only assume I’d have been home. I don’t specifically recall.’

‘Terrible memory you’ve got, Doctor.’

‘Alas, age makes fools of us all,’ Carruthers said. Then he patted his nephew on the shoulder. ‘And it seems youth has its folly, too. Do pay attention, dear Jacob.’

The solicitor had finally begun to write. Unfortunately he had only managed the names of the victims and the word ‘murder’. It was a start.

‘And the morning of Niall Stapleton’s murder?’

‘Hmm. You said that was a Thursday, didn’t you?’ Carruthers said. ‘I would assume I’d have been at work.’

‘At The Royal London Hospital?’

‘Probably.’

‘You weren’t. We checked.’

‘In every room? I do keep strange times. I’m not good at making myself available when I’m not scheduled to work Accident and Emergency, and I do work at other hospitals as a consultant.’

Reasonable doubt. Again.
They couldn’t prove the negative. Just because the NHS pager system didn’t show him as being in, that wasn’t enough to nail him.

‘Did you donate to all four victims?’ Morton asked.

‘I believe so. I’m taking your word for it that Mr Stapleton and Mr Yacobi received units of my blood. That isn’t information that I would be privy to.’

He had to know somehow. If they could find a record of him accessing that confidential information... that might be enough. ‘Wouldn’t you?’ Morton asked. ‘Don’t doctors have access to the database which tracks blood donations?’

Morton could see the doctor’s mind working, as if cogs were whirring in his brain.

‘I suppose so,’ Carruthers said. ‘Actually, come to think of it, I might have seen it once or twice. Idle hands make for a curious mind, and it’s only natural one would wonder where one’s blood might have been used.’

‘So, you’re admitting to the knowledge that Stapleton and Yacobi had blood transfusions?’

‘No. I’m admitting to the possibility I might have looked up a few records. I don’t recall anything specifically.’

Damn, he was good. Again he had introduced reasonable doubt.

‘Would you know how to cut up a body?’

‘Certainly. I am a doctor.’

‘Like this?’ Morton opened a folder of morgue photos.

‘Absolutely not. That handiwork is abysmal.’

Kieran elbowed Morton gently for his attention. ‘Would you excuse us for a moment?’

T
uesday May 5th 11:00

The prosecutor fixed Morton with a stare. ‘You’ve got to let him go.’

‘No bloody way,’ Morton said firmly. ‘He’s our man.’

‘Then prove it. All we have is circumstantial. He could have done it. We have nothing, nothing at all, which says that he did do it.’

But what?
Morton’s mind raced. There had to be something. ‘Hang on.’

Morton dashed off down the corridor. He nabbed a witness statement form and ran back to the interview suite with it in hand.

‘Got a pen?’ he asked Kieran as he skidded to a stop.

‘Yes. But be careful. It’s Mont Blanc, and I want it back.’

Morton told the doctor he needed his alibi details in writing and gave him the witness statement form. It wasn’t proper procedure, but his lawyer was too green to know better.

The doctor took a moment to admire the pen, twirling it between his fingers and hefting it from hand to hand in judgement of its weight. Morton waited with bated breath, trying not to look like he was waiting to see which hand the doctor would write with.

The doctor began to write... with his left hand.
Fuck
.

Morton forced himself to show no emotion. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Knock on the door when you’re done.’

Kieran was waiting for him outside. ‘Well?’

‘He’s left-handed.’

‘Then, he’s not our killer,’ Kieran said.

‘I don’t know,’ Morton said. ‘Everything else fits. What if he’s trying to outsmart us?’

‘So, your evidence that he committed a crime is... evidence he didn’t commit a crime? That’s a new one.’

‘Think about it,’ Morton said. ‘It’s the perfect forensic countermeasure.’

‘Pretending to write with your left hand to throw the police off?’

‘No. Cutting up a body with your non-dominant hand to conceal your medical training and skill.’

‘You think he cut them up with his right hand so it wouldn’t be as neat.’

Morton nodded. ‘Exactly.’

‘It’s got reasonable doubt written all over it. I can’t charge him on that alone. You need to find me something else. Until then, he walks.’

‘What about the Human Tissue Act offences?’ Morton asked. ‘He confessed to giving Olivia Hogge his bone marrow illegally.’

‘Would you convict him? He saved her life. No jury is going to jail a doctor for saving his patient on a technicality.’

And then he killed her.
‘Damn it, Kieran! Stop thinking about your win rates for half a second. We need to keep him away from the public while I find the smoking gun we need to put him away for four murders. Are you going to help me or not?’

‘Fine. I’ll charge him for the Human Tissue Act offence against Olivia Hogge. No more, no less. He’ll make bail in no time, but it’ll buy you a few days to get your shit together.’

‘That’ll have to do.’

***

M
orton found Fenella Carruthers at an upmarket beauty salon in Kensington. It was well-hidden at the top of a discreet staircase off the main road by Holland Park. A smell of paraffin and aromatherapy oils lingered in the air.

‘Go away,’ Mrs Carruthers said. ‘I’m having a manicure.’

Morton tapped the beautician who was kneeling down in front of Fenella on the shoulder. ‘Miss? Could you give us a moment, please?’

The beautician looked up in confusion, and then over to Fenella, who rolled her eyes and nodded. ‘Very well.’

‘Mrs Carruthers, we know Byron wasn’t at home with you on the nights of the murders.’

‘If he said he was there, then he was there.’

‘But do
you
say he was there?’

‘I... he was there.’

‘All night?’

‘Yes.’

‘Every single time a murder occurred, you two were together the entire night?’

‘Yes.’

‘He didn’t leave your sight to go to the bathroom?’

‘Well... maybe five minutes.’

Morton was unconvinced. ‘So, you weren’t together all night. What did you do together?’

‘We watched TV.’

Yeah, right.
‘OK. What program?’

‘I don’t know.
Coronation Street
?’ Fenella was beginning to get flustered. ‘What does it matter, anyway?’

‘If you can’t remember what you were watching, how can you remember that he was there?’

‘I just can, all right? Leave me alone.’

Morton placed a business card on top of her handbag. ‘Call me if your recollection improves.’

T
uesday May 5th 16:45