Dead Of Winter (Willis/Carter #1)(84)

‘Sometimes . . . correct.’

‘Would you see that dead person?’

He shook his head. ‘That wouldn’t be my department. When a match is found a team goes into action and the organ is delivered to the waiting team.’

‘So you have no idea where it came from?’

‘You know where it came from because there is a nationally recognized transplant team in operation who match donor with recipient and they organize delivery.’

‘Is it always them?’

‘Yes . . . unless it is being done illegally, which doesn’t happen in the UK.’

‘And you would know that? You would trust the people on your team to know that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why? Because you work in countries where it does happen?’

‘No, absolutely not.’

‘Well, thanks for your time.’ They went to leave. Carter stopped at the door. Justin had turned his attention back to the laptop on his desk.

‘Just one more thing, Mr de Lange. Do you know Digger Cain – he’s a nightclub owner who owns shares in your publicly listed company.’

‘No, sorry. I don’t.’

‘It was a girl who worked at Digger’s club who was found by the M25 the other day. She had also been harvested. Actually she was a lucky break for us because we have got the killer’s DNA from her. It’s just a matter of time now before we get the person responsible.’

‘That’s good news. I have a busy day . . . excuse me.’ De Lange stood and gestured towards the door.

‘Of course . . . but . . . is your wife here?’ Carter said. ‘We went to say hello over at the flat where you live. Doesn’t seem to be anyone living there?’

‘Ah . . . my wife and I are going through some personal and very private problems at the moment; we had intended to live there together but at present I am bedding down here and my wife stays with her father, I believe.’





Chapter 54


Tina sat in the departures lounge at Stanstead airport eating a panini with everything in it. She had no need to worry about the diet any more. A machine was going to suck out all her fat. She’d walk in a size sixteen and walk out a six. As she glanced at the newsstand outside the nearby WHSmith she saw the headline:

ORGAN HARVESTERS

Body snatchers continue to stalk London streets



For a few seconds she thought about phoning Ebony and asking her if she was alright. Asking her if she wanted any fat bringing back. Might actually give her some breasts . . . ha-ha . . . hard to know what was rib and what was breast with Ebony. Tina took out her phone and was about to press speed-dial when she thought twice: she knew that Ebony would be quietly stressed to hell; really feeling it. She knew it was her first murder investigation and it was a whopper. What if Ebony was in the middle of something? The last thing Tina wanted was to cause her more stress. Tina would tell her all about it when she was coming round from the operation. She’d ring from Poland.

Two and a half hours later she was collecting her bag and making her way through the ‘nothing to declare’ tunnel in Krakow John Paul II International Airport. On the other side of the doors, behind the barrier, a crowd of people looked her way hopefully.

She stopped wheeling her new case for a moment and looked for her name.

Stefan had been told exactly what to look out for.

He waved at her.

Tina wished she’d worn something smarter. He was not bad-looking, bit old, but worth a few hours of her holiday.

‘Tina?’

‘That’s me.’

‘Please follow me. I am your guide.’

He took the handle of her pull-along case and marched off towards the door. ‘Follow, please. You have a coat? Very cold here in Poland. Minus twenty.’

‘Jesus!’ Tina caught the blast of arctic air as they neared the doors. It took her breath away.

‘Here . . . please . . .’ Stefan gave her a spare coat he was carrying for the purpose. He turned round to smile at her. ‘Very lucky, huh?’

She smiled at him. She would have felt luckier if she had been about to walk out to heat and tropical paradise instead of minus twenty. Once they were in the car, it was not long before Stefan pulled up outside the hospital. He took her case out of the boot.

‘Please . . .’ He indicated the steps towards the hospital entrance and the reception just inside. Stefan went ahead and spoke to the receptionist.

Christ, what was it with these receptionists? Dark lipstick, severe pulled-back hair. Great body. The kind that Tina wanted. Tina looked around. The smell of the hospital hit her. It looked smart, but she was expecting to be shown to a luxury hotel first. She was hoping for a couple of nights’ fun before any cutting began.

‘Am I going to a hotel first?’ she asked Stefan.

The receptionist answered for him: ‘Hello, Tina, welcome. There has been a small change of plan and we think it is better you are prepared for your procedures today. When it is over you will have a long time to rest.’





Chapter 55


Digger had retired upstairs to his apartment above the club for the evening. He was in a reflective mood. He sat in his old tapestry cloth armchair with his miniature dachshund on his lap. His apartment had not been decorated since the Seventies. Brown swirls went from the carpet to the walls. Above Digger’s head hung a frosted-glass chandelier on spidery black fittings. At the other end of the phone he could hear the sound of breathing and in the background a woman was singing. Digger stroked the dog as he talked on the phone.