Ray looked at the door she’d come through. Waited for it to open again.
It wasn’t until Adams spoke, nudged him with a name he didn’t recognise, that he realised he was still standing, staring at the door with the coffee in his hand.
‘I know it’s daunting, but we’re here to make the process as simple as possible for you.’
Ray looked at her face. Tried to work out her motivation. Her thought processes as she talked. Her empathy level for the people she was about to put through an underground, illegal and dangerous donor procedure; but his condition had built a solid brick wall around him and all he saw was a woman. One who smiled in the right places.
He closed his eyes. He could gain more information from her voice. That’s what he could do. Rely on his other senses more. He dipped his head. Closed his eyes.
‘I’m going to go through some questions with you, health questions. Screening questions. If at any point you want to jump in with a question of your own, jump away.’
He felt a smile in her voice. She was relaxed.
‘It’s a pretty long questionnaire, but don’t get put off by it, we want to make sure we do everything correctly. For your safety.’
What was that he heard in her voice? Concern? For what?
‘Mr Gordon? Are you okay?’
Ray lifted his head. ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine. Trying to take it all in, you know?’
She smiled at him. ‘It is a lot. But, don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.’
73
The easiest thing had been for Ray to be mostly honest about his health and family history, but he made the answers up to the questions that he felt gave too much away about himself; after all, he might be here now, but he wasn’t going to go ahead and give up part of his body to catch Rusnac and clear up this organisation.
Had he travelled abroad in the past three months and if so, where? Did he have a heart condition, did any members of his family have any problems with their heart? Was he prone to fainting, palpitations, irregular heartbeat? Asthma, bronchitis or emphysema? Excessive bleeding, bruising, clotting disorder or anaemia? And on and on it went.
‘I know it’s a lot,’ Adams agreed as they got to the end of the questionnaire. ‘But better to be safe than sorry.’
Ray didn’t know how he would or should respond, and thought he would probably be overwhelmed if he was really going to sell his kidney, so he forced a smile and she seemed happy enough with this.
He was then ushered through the door Adams had walked through to get his coffee, into a corridor where several other doors branched off. She led him into the nearest room, which was small but sterile-looking. It had a smell of antiseptic. Clean. It was whitewashed, with a pale blue linoleum floor, a desk in the corner that held a blood pressure pump, a laptop, a thermometer, several notepads and various other bits of paperwork. Alongside it was a table with vials and boxes holding needles of varying sizes. A metal kidney bowl, cotton pads and sticking plasters. A medical bed split the room in its centred position, a roll of paper covered the length of it. A chair at the end of it.
The strip-light in the ceiling provided a bleached-out feel.
Adams directed Ray to the chair at the end of the bed, filled the kidney bowl with the items she needed, and placed it on the end of the bed to one side of him, directing him to either roll up the sleeve of his sweater or take it off if it wasn’t possible.
Ray pulled it over his head and laid it over the back of the chair, glad he wore a T-shirt underneath.
Adams continued to chat, attempting to keep it light, probably because people were worried about injections, needles, giving blood, he thought as she prattled on about the weather, how changeable it was, how she never knew what to wear and how frustrating it was when she had to get dressed in the morning.
Ray looked at her nurse’s uniform and wondered if she had a job other than carrying out blood tests for illegal transplants. Had this uniform been bought especially for this role, or was it one she already possessed?
Then he pressed down on the cotton wool swab she had provided as she wrote his name, the one he’d given, onto the labels of the vials.
He liked this woman, who was still chatting away to him as she scribbled on the four blood-filled vials. But he knew she would have to be arrested, when Rusnac was. You couldn’t be involved in this and walk away from it.
‘So what next?’ he asked.
Adams looked up from the last label. ‘I’ll finish this, get you another coffee if you’d like one, then take you through to see Mr Bateman, who will talk to you properly about the process. The ins and outs. Everything you need to know. Not just the medical stuff. The entire process as a whole. Make sure you understand it all and that your mind is at ease.’
So she was aware that this was an illegal procedure, if there was a part of the process that wasn’t medical. The exchange of money. Ray felt disappointed. He hadn’t known her long, but he wanted her to not have been so aware.
Declining the coffee, because he needed to be on his game now, to not have any distractions, to be focused, he stepped back with her into the corridor. Adams told Ray how lovely it had been to meet him, and wished him well. Ray tuned her out. If Bateman was Rusnac he would recognise him instantly whereas Ray wouldn’t. How would Rusnac react? He’d already made threats, to both him and his family.
Ray stood to his full height. He was ready for whatever would happen. He was here. He’d shown up.
Adams reached a door close to the end of the corridor. He’d no idea what she’d been saying as they walked, but now she turned to him, with her hand on the handle, her face open in a smile. ‘This is a good thing you’re doing, Mr Gordon.’
And she opened the door.
74
It looked like a living room. That was the first thing Ray noticed.
Meant to make him feel welcomed and at home. Which was at odds with the office vibe that was given off by the exterior.
The second thing he noticed was the male relaxing on one of the sofas.
An Eastern European male.
Adams was chattering. Introducing him as Mr Gordon. Talking about his medical history. About his general good health. About how well he’d done during the drawing of his blood as though he were a five-year-old child that needed encouragement.
And all the time the male on the sofa smiled at her. Relaxed.
There’d been a minor twitch. When he’d first walked through the door. Ray had picked up on it. The male’s leg, the one he had crossed over the other, had twitched as the man had laid eyes on Mr Gordon, but then he’d relaxed again.
Leaned back even more into the sofa, if that was possible.
With a look about him that reminded Ray of the proverbial cat with the cream.
Ray shoved his hand in his pocket. Felt the phone. Tried to go for the relaxed look himself. Reminded himself that it was okay to appear nervous; after all, he was here to sell a part of his body. Surely the people who did this looked anxious? He withdrew his hand.
‘So, Mr Gordon, I’ll leave you in the more than capable hands of Mr Bateman.’
‘Thank you, you’ve been very kind.’ She had. It was a shame.
‘Are you sure I can’t get you another coffee?’
He needed to make sure she wasn’t going to leave the premises straight away. He needed her to still be here when he called in the troops. If anyone was going to talk in interview it was going to be Lisa Adams. ‘I’m sorry – actually, I think a coffee would be a good idea.’ He pulled what he hoped was an apologetic face, looked at Bateman, who was watching the interaction, then back at Adams. ‘I think it must be the nerves. I don’t know what I want.’ He forced a laugh. Looked back at Bateman.
Or whoever he was.
The male smiled.
Relaxed.
‘Don’t you worry about it. Leave it with me. You stay right there.’ And with that she left.
Ray looked at Mr Bateman.
He had no idea if he’d seen
him before.
75
Rusnac hadn’t expected the cop to walk through the door today. He’d thought he’d warned him off properly. Threatening a person usually did the trick. Yes, this cop may well think he was above Rusnac’s threats, but threatening family members usually got the message across. After the disastrous meeting on the cop’s doorstep, Rusnac figured he was safe to continue his business. Get it up and running again. He’d been cautious after the incident with Billy and then the cops being at the meet, but he’d felt safer after he’d been released by police and the face-to-face with the cop. He knew his guys in the hands of the cops wouldn’t talk, otherwise, again, he wouldn’t have still been free. And yet here he was, face to face with the cop again.
Only this time the cop had been brazen enough to come into his turf. His ground. And by the looks of things, alone. But it was a fact he wouldn’t take at face value.
It was an issue he needed to assess.
It had thrown him when he’d first walked through the door with Lisa. Who was talking incessantly as she always did. He’d punch her in the face to keep her quiet if he could, but it wasn’t how business was run here. It wasn’t how you treated women here. He needed her, her skills. He had to smile and put up with the stupidity that came out of her mouth so that she would do her job; after all, it wasn’t easy to find people who could draw blood and who were in debt up to their eyeballs and who would turn a blind eye to what he was doing, for extra money. As long as he sold it to them as he sold it to the customers. He doubted she believed that shit deep down, she just needed to be told that they were saving lives. Lives that were otherwise on a losing streak on the waiting lists. And the people helping them were no different to the living donors in the system, they were simply being recompensed, as she was. Which, as he told her, was a much fairer system, if you asked him.
Which, of course, she was. Asking him.
To salve her conscience.
And now here she stood, blathering, with the cop standing by her, calling him by some weird name that wasn’t his own.
And he was asking for coffee.
Rusnac relaxed into his seat. He knew the cop didn’t recognise him, it was obvious from the fact that he hadn’t spoken or leapt towards him the minute they’d come through the door.
Why, then, would he come here?
All Rusnac needed to do was assess a couple of things before he made a decision.
A couple of questions.
How did the cop find them?
And was he alone?
Then the decision.
What was he going to do about it? About him, Mr Gordon, or, as he knew full well, Detective Inspector Ray Patrick.
76
The door closed behind Ray. Adams left. The sound of her voice, the constant voice, leaving with it. An echo stayed in his brain as a small click closed her out and the handle locked into place.
Ray surveyed his surroundings; he needed to know where he was, what risks the room held, if this man in front of him was indeed Vova Rusnac. It was compact, but warm, inviting. Made to give visitors a feeling of home, he imagined. Comfort and peace.
There were real flowers in a large glass vase on the floor in one corner. Beautiful flowers in reds, oranges, whites and pinks. Interspersed with the darkest green foliage. Their scent strong. The hard scent of cut flowers that invades your nose, rather than the natural, light smell of flowers growing outside.
A side cabinet held a small flat-screen television. Two sofas and a chair were arranged in the centre, with a coffee table between them. The wallpaper floral but pale and discreet.
Ray looked to the male again, who was smiling at him. His face holding the smile in place. Frustration grabbed at his stomach that not a single feature stood out and helped form an identity. He didn’t move, there was nothing he could hold on to that would match him to the male he knew as Vova Rusnac. And the man’s relaxed stance threw him.
Could Rusnac really have another male here doing this? Would he have to go through this and then try and move further through the donor process? But would Rusnac go anywhere near the process? Maybe he organised it without getting his hands dirty at all. And how far was Ray willing to go to find out? Would he turn up to have an organ removed? It would be one way to identify the doctors and nursing staff involved. Unless he involved SCD10, the undercover team, he knew he would be in a world of pain owning up to his deception, his failure, without anything to show for it. But he was prepared for that. By turning up here today, he had made the decision that catching Billy’s killer was more important than his job, so any further steps he needed to take were irrelevant: he was in for the long haul.
The male indicated with his hand for him to take a seat on the opposite sofa.
Ray looked long and hard at the face. Focused on the eyes. The smile of the mouth. It wouldn’t register as familiar. The dark hair tidy, neat. That rang a bell. But men’s hair – it wasn’t like women, who could style their hair any way they liked. If a man wore his hair short, it pretty much looked the same as every other man’s.
He took his seat where indicated.
‘So, Mr Gordon, you want to donate your kidney to someone in need?’ Still with the smile, but Ray nearly jumped out of his chair. It took all his strength to stay where he was. To not flinch or react. This was Rusnac. There was no doubt about it, now that he had spoken. But why was Rusnac pretending he hadn’t recognised him? It made no sense.
‘I’m kind of in real financial straits,’ Ray responded. He pushed his hand into his pocket, felt the phone, but realised that with the flat touch screen there was no way he could pocket-dial anyone without seeing where on the screen the buttons were.
Rusnac leaned forward a little. ‘We can of course help with that. We wouldn’t want you to go to all this trouble without giving you what you deserved.’
How could he make this call? And what game was Rusnac playing?
Rusnac leaned forward even further, elbows resting on his knees. ‘We like our donors, as well as our recipients, to be well supported. But I see that you are alone today. Have you come here alone, Mr Gordon?’
77
Before Ray could answer, Adams came bustling in. She carried a tray with a coffee pot, cream jug, sugar bowl and two coffee cups. Not mugs this time. It looked a much nicer set-up now that she was supplying the boss.
‘Here we are, this will make you feel more at home.’ She looked at Ray. ‘I can feel those nerves radiating off you. Don’t worry, you’re in safe hands here.’ A natural smile lit up her face. It travelled to her eyes and Ray felt a sliver of guilt for what he was about to do to her life, but reminded himself of Billy’s brother, and of Mrs Kayani’s dead husband.
He jumped up. ‘Thank you, Lisa. That last cup you gave me has gone through me.’ He paused, tried for a sheepish look. His acting skills being put to the test. SCD10 wouldn’t be taking him on any time soon. ‘And the nerves, probably, so I need a men’s room. Do you have one close by I can use?’
Rusnac tipped his head to the side. Still relaxed. This didn’t fill Ray with any level of ease. Why was he so comfortable having him here, knowing who he was? He obviously had a plan. Ray needed to keep his wits about him.
‘Of course.’ Adams placed the tray on the coffee table and walked towards the door. ‘This way, I’ll take you.’ She gave Rusnac a smile. He returned it. Ray followed her to a small cubicle toilet a couple of doors down. Adams left with a breezy wave of a hand.
He had to work fast. And quietly.
Ray strained an ear for footsteps having followed from the room he had vacated. He heard none. He yanked the phone out his pocket and dialled Jain. It rang and rang and rang. Come on, come on. Ray’s nerves were frayed but there was no response. He had no time to leave a message because he had no idea when Jain would pick it up. He needed support here and he needed it now.
He dialled Elaine.
She picked up on the second ring.
‘Guv? I thought you were –’
/>
He cut her off. ‘Elaine, listen to me. Don’t interrupt, this is important. Whatever you feel, we’ll deal with it later, I promise.’ His voice was low. Urgent. ‘But you have to listen and pay attention.’
‘Okay, I’m worried, but I’m listening.’
‘Grab a pen and paper while I talk,’ he started, and heard shuffling and a drawer opening. ‘I’m at a temporary office building off Cottenham Park Road, just before Cranford Close …’ There was a huff of air as Elaine was about to jump in with, he knew, the obvious statement about it not being the place he said he was going, but she stuck to the plan to not interrupt. ‘I need you to organise back-up here right now. Everyone.’ He paused; this would be difficult, telling her, opening up.
He listened again, out into the office space he was in. It was quiet. He took a chance and opened the door a crack; the corridor was empty. He closed the door and pushed the bolt across. He had to be quick or Rusnac would come and search for him.
‘SCO19, dogs, forensics, we might even need the Air Support Unit, depending on what happens. I’m with Rusnac. He’s the guy who killed Billy.’
Elaine couldn’t contain the silence any longer. ‘You didn’t pick him out, how can he be? What are you talking about?’
‘Elaine.’ His voice was sharp. He had to do this quick, he only had a few more seconds. He had to tear that sticking plaster off and he’d check the wound underneath later. For now, he needed the back-up and he needed Rusnac in custody. ‘After our accident, I was diagnosed with, the simple word is “face blindness”. I can’t recognise people. I’ll explain more on it later as well. But I can recognise this guy by his voice because he spoke to me before he shot Billy and I’m telling you this is him. I’m in a meeting with him and I don’t know what he plans to do with me because he knows who I am, so please, get on with it.’
There was a quiet gasp at the other end. Ray couldn’t wait any longer. He closed the call, peered out of the door again, quickly deleted the one-call log entry and walked out of the men’s room and back towards Rusnac.
Dead Blind Page 23
