Private London (Private 4)

Chapter 51

MISTER ALISTAIR LLOYD gestured to his assistant, a thirty-year-old Canadian woman.

‘Close her up, Michaela,’ he said.

As he walked out of the theatre he was surprised to see a couple of police officers, his colleague John Ferguson, and an animated young woman with an unhappy expression on her face waiting to see him.

‘There’s a bit of a problem, Alistair,’ said Ferguson.

‘Oh?’

‘My brother would never have signed a donor card. There’s been a mistake,’ said Penelope Harris.

‘I’m sorry? I don’t follow.’

‘I want the operation stopped.’

The surgeon shrugged. There wasn’t much apology in the gesture. ‘It’s too late, I’m afraid. The transplant has been done. It was clearly what your brother wanted.’

‘I don’t believe it. I want to see him.’

‘Of course. You have to understand that he was in a serious accident. He suffered major injuries.’

‘I know that. I need to know it’s him.’

One of the police officers stepped forward. ‘We need a formal identification.’

‘Of course you do. Come with me, then.’

A short while later Alistair Lloyd nodded at the mortuary assistant who slid open the drawer and revealed the body. The dead man had suffered considerable trauma but his face, although lacerated, was recognisable. Penelope gasped holding a hand to her mouth. Then she nodded, unable to speak.

The surgeon gestured to the assistant to close the drawer again. As he did, Penelope’s brother’s left hand flopped loose from the covering sheet.

‘What happened to his hand?’ Penelope asked, puzzled.

John Ferguson looked down, shocked. The third finger of the dead man’s hand had been severed at the second knuckle.

‘It wasn’t like that when he came in,’ he said.

Chapter 52

SAM WAS PARKING the car as I jogged up the stairs to our office.

There was some activity in the offices of Chambers, Chambers and Mason. But not a great deal of it. Lawyers, it seemed, were not always on the case. Not on Saturday afternoons, at any rate.

Lucy was back at her reception desk, typing on her computer.

‘Where’s Suzy?’ I asked her.

‘She’s still down at the university.’

‘You get anything more?’

‘We made contact with Laura Skelton. She’s pretty shell-shocked by what happened.’

‘She would be. She add anything new?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘Suzy’s still with her. They seemed to be getting on pretty well. She thought it might be useful to strike up a friendship.’