Carved in Stone: Monochrome Destiny (22 page)

Reaching
out tentatively, Robyn twisted the simple iron latch and to her surprise found
that the door opened.  Pushing it outwards, she shone the torch out into
the darkness of a tunnel.  The sound that she had heard earlier was now
louder and unmistakable.  She stepped into the tunnel with its smooth
stone walls and arched ceiling.  Walking through the passageway, she
observed the walls change from smooth stone to ragged rock, and the floor go
from flagstone to sand.  The noise ahead grew louder and she knew, without
a doubt, that it was water.  Not just any water, it was the sea.  The
sound was the waves rolling up the beach.

Robyn
was in the cave that she had first seen the day Andrew had taken her back to
his house from the church.

Retracing
her steps, eager to take her find and get out, Robyn came back to the door and
noticed that although there had been no sign of any locking mechanism on the
inside, there was a large bolt on the outside.  Grateful that it had not
been locked, she stepped through, closing the door behind her.  She must
not leave behind any trace of her presence.

She
made quick work of getting back up through the grate and sliding the great
thing back into its frame.  It made an almighty clanging sound as it
dropped.  Robyn hoped that there was no-one outside to hear it. 
Hastily she replaced the candle snuffer and candelabra and scuffed over her
footprints in the dust.  When she got to the window and stood on the pew
to give her enough height to get back onto the windowsill, she carefully eased
the board aside and found that she was still alone.

Slipping
out, she replaced the board and screwed the two bottom screws into place. 
The top one was just too high to replace quickly so she left it. 

Shoving
the screwdriver back into her bag, Robyn brushed herself down and headed back
into the trees and onto the path home.

The drive to the
Peninsula Medical School was appalling.  The storm had come in late last
night and showed no sign of relenting as high winds blew a deluge across the
southwest.  There was a weather warning out with advice to not drive
unless absolutely necessary.  Robyn’s journey was necessary.

She’d
spent the previous evening searching the internet in the hope of discovering
what the strange object from the church was.  Her futile search had gotten
her nowhere, except for the suspicion that the machined precision of the item
was too similar to medical implements to be disregarded.

An
early phone call to Dr Jenkins, a lecturer at the medical school and a
physician, had gotten her an invitation to come straight over.  He was
marking work today, before heading for warmer climes for the duration of the
Easter break.  If Robyn wanted his opinion, she needed to get it today or
wait for another three weeks.

The
medical school was a relatively new venture, jointly controlled by the
Universities of Plymouth and Exeter and by the time she arrived, Robyn had
driven for nearly two hours to get there.  Dashing out into the rain, she
hoped it was worth it.

Dr
Jenkins’ office was easy to find.  He had given her precise directions to
get through the various buildings on campus and she found herself knocking on
his door only moments after running from the car.

She
was promptly answered with a, “Come in.”

Dr
Jenkins’ office was small, square and crammed.  He had a wall of filing
cabinets, a small desk and two chairs opposite his own.  Plants overflowed
his desk and on the walls, a record of family his life was proudly displayed
alongside academic diplomas.  He’d placed his desk to get the best view
out, over the city, but today only dreary light flowed in, so his desk lamp
blazed over the paperwork pile he sat marking. 

 “Hello. 
You must be Robyn.” The doctor’s hair was greying and the lines on his face were
pronounced.  He wore small rectangular glasses and looked at Robyn through
magnified lenses.  He wore a neatly pressed shirt and his suit jacket had
been carefully placed on a hook on the wall.  Wiry in build, which
accentuated the wrinkles in his skin, he looked every bit the experienced
professional that he was.  He smiled at Robyn earnestly and stood up to
offer her his hand across the desk. “Do have a seat.”

“Thank you, Dr
Jenkins.”  She took the chair directly opposite him. “It’s very nice of you
to give me your time today.”

“Oh,
call me Geoff.”  He sat back and relaxed.  “What can I do for you? It
sounded quite intriguing on the phone and I always like to help fellow
educators.”

On
the phone, Robyn had told him that she had discovered the object at school
during a clear out.  It was a white lie, but she could hardly confess to
the truth.

“As
I said on the phone, I found an object that I believe is medical but I cannot
find out what it is or what it is for.  I hope that you will be able to
enlighten me.  I cannot resist a puzzle and I wouldn’t like to throw away
anything that might be important.” She lifted her handbag onto her lap and
pulled out the object.  She handed it to him.

“Ah,”
he turned the implement over in his hands. “Quite specialised equipment, where
did you say you found it?”

“At
school,” she lied confidently.  The story well practised during the drive
over.  “The technicians and I were having a clear out and I found this at
the back of a cupboard.”

“Odd
place to find one, but there you go.” He pondered to himself then looked up at
Robyn. “Yes I know what this is.”

She
leaned forwards expectantly, waiting for the eureka moment, her hands
tightening on the straps of her bag.

“
It’s
part of a harvesting needle,” he said with absolute
certainty.

Robyn
had no idea what that meant and it must have showed on her face.  Dr
Jenkins laughed and continued.

“It’s
part of a hollow needle that is used to harvest bone marrow.  There should
be a needle that goes in here.” He pointed down the hollow shaft. 

Robyn
looked puzzled so he continued.

“As
I am sure you are aware, bone marrow is harvested for transplant.  It can
be either the patient’s own marrow, harvested and stored before a treatment
that is likely to affect their bone marrow in the long term, or it can be
harvested from a donor.” Robyn nodded when he looked up. “The most common
reason for transplant is cancer of the blood, leukaemia or lymphoma for
instance, but there are other illnesses such as sickle cell anaemia, aplastic
anaemia and thalassemia that can all benefit from a bone marrow transplant.”

“They
use this to get the marrow out of the bone?” She tried to hide the quiver in
her voice.  The object was huge.  If the object was a needle, then it
was the largest she had ever seen and she had a gory vision of it being jabbed
into someone’s bones.

“Not
just any bone, the pelvis.  There is a good quantity of bone marrow in the
pelvis.  The donor lies on their front and under anaesthetic this needle
is inserted into the iliac crest of the pelvis, which is just about here.” He
pointed to the back of his hip as he swivelling in his chair to let her
see.  “Once this needle is in place, a smaller needle is inserted through
the shaft, here, and the bone marrow is drained into a syringe.  The bone
marrow taken is spongy, full of blood and stem cells and can be drawn out
easily once the needle is inserted.”

“Stem
cells? I didn’t know that.” Stem cells were the latest break-through in
science.  Their ability to turn into any kind of cell gave the scientific
community great hope that they could be used to cure all kinds of
diseases.  From Robyn’s studies, or at least what she could remember of
them, she knew that stem cells were found in foetuses, at the beginning of a
life, when the ball of cells made from the fertilisation of an egg and sperm
could become any of a number of specialised cells within the body.  It was
this fact that had become the focus of several campaigns against stem cell
research.  Legislation on ethical use of such materials had been introduced,
but there was still concern about the origin of the foetuses used.

“Yes,
bone marrow is full of them.”  The doctor stood up now.  “The surgeon
makes several insertions into the bone from each puncture wound to the
skin.  The skin is punctured about three times on each hip but there are
many more puncture sites on the bone, you see?” He demonstrated by placing the
steel apparatus on his hip them changing its angle.  By changing the angle
you could change the site of entry to the bone without the need to puncture the
skin again.  “When the harvest is complete they will have extracted about
two quarts of bone marrow.  The donor’s body will replace that amount in a
few weeks.  Although the procedure sounds horrifying, the donor only remains
in hospital for one or two days and only has a few needle marks to show for
it.  There will be some discomfort of course, but nothing particularly
nasty.”

“So
any needle fits in here?” She pointed over the table to the shaft.

“No,
this would have a specific needle with it.  It’s an older version. 
The newer ones have plastic handles and are a more universal fit for
needles.  The new ones are disposable but this one could be sterilised and
used over.  I doubt anyone uses these any more though.” He sat down.

Robyn
stared at the needle in his hand and couldn’t work out why such an object would
be where she had found it.  He must have had the same thought.

“I
wonder why it was at a school?” he turned the metal needle over in his hand.

“I
don’t know.  I’m new there, so I wouldn’t know who brought it in.”

“Well
it’s unusual, but I’m all for encouraging the next generation into medicine.”
he smiled, “or at least getting them to carry a donor card.  I doubt that
you would persuade anyone to be a bone marrow donor by showing them this
though.”

He
was definitely right there.  The sheer size of the thing had Robyn
cringing and she was all too aware of the importance of being a donor.

“How
old is it do you think?”

“Oh,
I’d say this one is from the late eighties or early nineties.  The first
transplant was in the fifties but the equipment was quite different then. 
It wasn’t until the late sixties that the first successful transplant for
cancer was achieved.  It took time for it to become as
mainstream
as it is today.” He handed the needle back.  Her time was up.

She
thanked him and got up to leave.  On her way to the door, she thought of
one last question.  “Um, Dr Jenkins, Geoff, is there any other use for the
needle?  I mean, in any other procedure?”

“No, not that I can think of.”

Robyn
smiled, said her goodbyes and left the office to walk down the quietly deserted
corridor.  Now she knew what she had, she was more confused than
ever.  One thing was for certain however, the needle had not been in that
church when it was boarded up.  It had been dropped since then, but by
whom?

Robyn sat at the
dining table, her mind filled with questions.  None of the information she
had discovered fitted together and the more she thought about it, the more
concerned she became for Kat’s welfare.  Robyn knew, deep within her soul,
that the church was pivotal somehow.  Why else would Kat have gone there?

As
she turned the medical implement over and over, Robyn began to think about the
door in the crypt.   She had already trawled the internet to find
that such doors were incredibly rare.  Usually the dead were laid to rest
securely with the intent to keep their bodies and any trinkets buried with them
safe.  There would normally be only one way in or out.  Was the door
a later addition?

The
tunnel certainly stoked Robyn’s imagination.  Pirate smugglers off the
Cornish coast were legend, but smuggling was hardly a thing of the past. 
Quiet, deserted and accessible undercover, the church was a perfect hiding place
for illegal stashes.  Drugs, guns, cigarettes, alcohol, knock off designer
labels; there was a fortune to be had if you had the skills and daring to do
it.  Had Kat stumbled onto a criminal operation?  What would said
criminals have done if they had found that they’d been discovered?

A
slightly too loud and impatient rap knocked the door and Robyn let out a stale
breath realising that her thoughts had knotted her stomach.  Kat could be
in trouble.

Rising,
Robyn threw the harvesting needle into her handbag before going to answer the
door.  It was getting late, the sun had ducked down hours ago and only one
person would
come
calling after dark.  She still
checked the peephole at the door however.  Her visitors had left her wary.

“Andrew,”
she pulled back the door and took in his appearance.  His hair was wet,
his collar up and his shoulders hunched to keep the rain off of his neck. 
He should have looked dishevelled, but he just looked sexy.  His hooded
gaze held her before he smiled.

“I
was worried when I couldn’t get hold of you.”

Robyn
stepped back, allowing him to enter her home.  She hadn’t been expecting
him,
in fact, she’d pulled back a step in their relationship
as her doubts built a barrier between them.  He had secrets and Robyn
wasn’t sure she could live with that. “What are you doing here?”

Andrew
stepped into the hall and shook off his wet coat.  “I came to see if you
were alright.  I’ve been trying to phone you all afternoon but it just
rings through to voicemail.”

“Oh,”
Robyn turned and reached for the bag she’d just thrown over the back of a
chair, “I put my phone on silent whilst I was driving.  I must have
forgotten to put the sound back on.”

“You
went out in this?” Andrew’s brows rose quizzically.

Damn,
she shouldn’t have said that.  The weather really was extremely bad for
driving.  She’d fought the car all the way back. 
“Um,
yeah.
  I only popped out.”  She lied.

Distracted,
Robyn shoved her hand into her bag intending to grab her phone, but in her
haste she unfortunately hooked the handle of the harvesting needle and it fell.

Metal
hit tile with a clang and a clatter as Robyn’s heart stopped.  The needle
skittered across the floor, chiming a noisy retreat and came to rest just in
front of Andrew’s feet.  He bent to pick it up.

Blood
rushed to Robyn’s face as her deception threatened to reveal itself.  She
couldn’t help her reaction, she hated lying to him.  She stood frozen,
wondering how she was ever going to explain this.

Andrew
rose, holding the harvesting needle out to Robyn.  When he saw her guilt
he stopped.

“What
have you done?” His tone was short and clipped.

She
couldn’t lie, not to his face.  It was one thing to go looking around
churches and meet with medical professionals to find information and just not
inform him, but to lie to his face was impossible.

“I
got it from the church.”

“In the graveyard?”
Andrew was
tight lipped but she could see anger brewing.  This was not going to be
good.

She
swallowed.  “No, inside,” she had that sinking feeling that comes from
being caught red-handed.

Andrew
cocked his head and blinked.  “How did you get inside?” His voice was a
flat monotone.

Robyn
knew this was bad.

“I
took one of the boards off of the windows.”  God, Robyn winced at her own
words.

Andrew
looked aghast.

“I
really didn’t expect to go in, it’s just that I noticed that the board had
recently been removed and I had to know,” she babbled, “It was so close to
where we found the phone case.”

Andrew’s
eyes met Robyn’s with an intensity that had her shrinking and stepping
back.  His gaze was better than any truth serum.

“It
was in the crypt, under some old furniture stored down there.”  She was
trying to explain herself, but knew that she was only succeeding in digging
herself a larger, deeper hole.

“The crypt!”
Now he stared
at her in utter disbelief.

“There
was a trail, it led me to a grate, which I lifted, and followed some stairs to
a crypt.  I found it accidentally when I dropped my torch.  It’s
alright, I put everything back.  No-one will know I was there.”  She was
rambling.  The urge to confess under that strict gaze had her spilling out
all the information too fast.  It sounded so awful, now that she put it
into words.  What must Andrew think?  He’d hate her for this. 
She was a criminal and she’d lied to him.  Robyn realised that despite her
reticence to further their relationship in the last couple of weeks, she still
wanted him, desperately, and now she’d probably ruined her chances forever.

She
stared at Andrew.  Her body warred between retreat and stepping forwards
to touch and to comfort.

When
Andrew made his move however, all thought drained from her mind, because what
happened next, even she wasn’t prepared for.