Troy’s chest felt tight, about to burst. He didn’t know what Lexi was going through. He didn’t know how she could be so static and so serene that she could be mistaken for a corpse. At least in dim lighting.
Hardly daring to communicate at all, he whispered faintly, ‘He’s … Well, you can feel it, can’t you?’ The man was undoing her robe. ‘You’re okay. He hasn’t picked up the … He is now, I think. Get ready. Yes, he’s reaching for the scalpel. That’s enough, Lexi. Finish it.’
But she didn’t. She just lay there.
Troy swallowed and stared at the screen. Had his partner slipped into unconsciousness? Was she aware of what was about to happen? Could she defend herself?
Lexi waited. Waited till the fine metal blade touched her flesh. Then she made her move. Her eyes opened and she thrust her right arm upwards. Her fist slammed against his throat and the scalpel flew across the room.
The man leapt back in panic. His crazed scream filled the hall with shrill sound, like a seagull’s cry. Terrified, his eyes were wide and white. Clutching his injured neck, he squealed, ‘Don’t hurt me!’
Gathering the robe around her body, Lexi dragged herself up, elbows on the sides of the coffin. She snorted. ‘Me hurt you? You were about to cut my heart out!’
Troy appeared in the entrance. But the intruder wasn’t going to make a bid for freedom. Shock had immobilized him entirely. Into his life-logger, Troy said, ‘I need an immediate police escort at Hurlstone’s hall of rest. One man to be arrested, questioned and charged.’
SCENE 26
The man that Troy and Lexi had arrested sat across the table from them in the interview room. He was about sixty, they guessed, and his hand occasionally drifted to his throat to soothe the pain of Lexi’s punch. On the floor lay his holdall, but anything that could have been used as a weapon had already been removed. The contents of his pockets were scattered across the surface of the table.
‘For the sake of the recording,’ Troy said, ‘tell us your name.’
‘Ely Dean Eight.’
For a few moments, Troy looked puzzled. Then he said, ‘Of course. Dr Ely Eight. You used to be the house surgeon at the Rural Retreat Transplant Clinic.’
‘Yes. Retired.’
‘Gianna Humble mentioned you.’ Seeing a reaction in the doctor’s face, Troy said, ‘You don’t like her.’
‘She said I was too old. She accused me of being a bit forgetful and shaky.’
Troy smiled. ‘Ah. I get it.’ He lifted the cooled container out of the surgeon’s holdall and said, ‘You couldn’t retire gracefully, could you? You’re not in the black market for money. You’re trying to prove her wrong. You’re trying to prove you’ve still got it.’
‘I’m perfectly able to help desperately ill people.’
‘Are you? Wasn’t Gianna right? You’ve made mistakes — like Olga Wylie.’
Refusing to reply, Ely stared at the table.
‘Do you remember her? She got an outer’s heart. It belonged to Tiffany Clara One and it was stolen from the same hall of rest.’
‘There were two patients,’ Ely mumbled. ‘There was a mix-up. I was given the wrong ones.’
‘So, there’s another body somewhere. We only found Olga.’ Troy leaned forward on the table. ‘Who gave you the wrong heart?’
‘Um. Nobody.’
Troy sat back again. ‘You’re facing a lot of charges. Unlawful killing, mutilation of bodies, prevention of proper burial or cremation, and it might include murder.’
Ely jerked upright and stared at Troy. ‘I haven’t murdered anyone.’
‘So, who has? Who’s your accomplice?’
Ely shook his head.
‘What’s the deal? You do the skilled work — the surgery on the living and the dead — and someone else does the rough stuff, like murdering the vulnerable and getting rid of embarrassing bodies — or what remains of them.’
Still no reply.
‘How did you hear about Lexi’s death?’
Ely Eight kept his silence again.
Troy took Ely’s mobile in his hand. ‘I’m betting that earlier tonight — maybe just after seven thirty — you had a call from your accomplice suggesting you pay another visit to the hall of rest.’ He fiddled with the phone and then smiled. ‘Here we go. A call came in at seven forty-seven and it was someone listed as Samaritan according to this.’ Troy glanced at Lexi and passed the phone to her.
At once, she called Terabyte. ‘We need the owner and location of a mobile. And we need it fast. Here’s the number.’ She dictated Samaritan’s phone number and then said, ‘Thanks. I’ll be waiting.’
Troy gazed at Ely in silence for ten uncomfortable seconds. ‘It won’t be long. Our friend’s a genius with phones.’ He tapped the side of his head and said, ‘I’m building up a picture in here. I can see how your relationship with Samaritan works. He’s not like you. Big pockets. They take a lot of filling. That’s why he deals in black-market body parts. Money’s his motivation. Expensive lifestyle to support, I should think. So he covers up your mistakes to protect his business. He might even be threatening to expose you if you tell someone like me who he is — or if you really retire. He’s basically a greedy bully, isn’t he?’
Ely’s eyes were filling up with tears.
‘You can tell us who he is because it won’t make any difference to you any more. You’re safe in here and your phone’s going to lead us to him anyway.’
Barely audible, Ely said, ‘His name’s Gareth Riley Thirteen.’
At once, Lexi checked the case files on her life-logger. ‘Gareth Riley Thirteen holds a fishing licence for the Shepford area.’
Troy nodded and looked once more at Ely Eight. ‘How did you meet him?’
‘He did the techie jobs at the Rural Retreat when I was there. He set up the computer system.’
‘The failsafe procedure with barcodes? The one that makes accidents impossible?’
‘Yes.’
‘Pity he didn’t set you up with the same system in your … private clinic.’
‘We don’t have the resources.’
‘Where is it? Where do you do the transplants?’
‘In my basement at home. It’s fully equipped.’
Lexi made a note of Ely’s address, out in the countryside beyond Langhorn and Overdale.
‘Is Gareth still at the Rural Retreat?’
‘He was sacked for misusing computers.’
‘Meaning?’
Between sobs, Ely replied, ‘He was caught a few too many times in chat rooms and the like when he should’ve been working.’
Lexi interrupted. ‘We’ve got a location. He’s at home.’
‘Okay. Let’s go and prick his balloon.’ Troy stood up and told Ely, ‘We’ll talk some more later. For now, it’s a police cell.’
Lexi added, ‘More comfortable than a coffin, believe me.’
SCENE 27
‘Lexi Iona Four,’ Troy said. ‘You’re …’
‘What? A star?’
‘A good partner.’