Donor

FIFTEEN

Dunbar was close to both mental and physical exhaustion when he got back to the hotel and parked the car, but he smoothed his hair, straightened his clothing and steeled himself to walk briskly up to the desk and ask for his key. He then turned away smartly and headed for the lifts. He didn’t want the desk clerk taking in too much detail of his appearance. As soon as he’d closed his room door, he got out of his muddy, wet clothing and stowed it away in a hotel laundry bag, before stepping into the shower and letting the warm water soothe his aching limbs for a good ten minutes. He put on fresh clothes and followed up with a large gin and tonic. Then he called Lisa. It was six thirty.

‘Steve? Are you all right?’ she asked at the sound of his voice.

‘It all went wrong,’ said Dunbar. ‘I’m okay but Jimmy Douglas was badly hurt.’

‘You were caught?’

‘No, we got away. I even got what I wanted, but it was a hell of a mess. I’m not long back. I haven’t had a chance to look at anything yet.’

‘Why don’t you come over? I’ll make you some breakfast and you can tell me about it.’

Dunbar said he’d be over in half an hour.

‘God, what a nightmare,’ said Lisa. ‘What on earth is he using apes for? I thought those days were over.’

‘The apes were all heavily pregnant,’ said Dunbar. ‘They also all had recent Caesarian scars on their bellies.’

‘I don’t understand. How could they still be pregnant if they had section scars?’

‘I don’t think the section was performed to deliver the baby. It was done to operate on it,’ said Dunbar.

‘ In utero surgery,’ exclaimed Lisa, her eyes widening. ‘I read about that in the Nursing Standard. They say it’s the coming thing, but it’s difficult. It’s easy to induce premature labour and lose the foetus. Why would Ross be interested in that?’

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Dunbar. ‘But it must have something to do with what he’s up to. He went to a lot of trouble to conceal it.’

He told her about the false wall and how finding the opening in it had led to Douglas’s injury.

‘Do you really think he’ll lose his arm?’ she asked.

‘It was badly damaged. His chances can’t be better than fifty-fifty.’

‘Poor man,’ said Lisa. ‘And what a mess. You said the security-men were injured too?’

‘I had to knock them out so we could get away.’

‘Then they saw you?’

‘I had my face covered.’

‘Maybe this has made the early-morning news,’ said Lisa. She turned on the television and tuned to STV for the breakfast programme. Ten minutes later, it was the third item on the regional news bulletin.

‘Last night animal rights activists broke into the laboratories of Glasgow transplant surgeon James Ross and attacked two security men. They daubed slogans over the walls, and are believed to have caused considerable damage to the premises. The security men were taken to hospital, but a spokesman said later that neither was seriously injured.’

Dunbar let out a sigh of relief.

‘Dr Ross, speaking to us earlier by telephone, condemned the break-in as an act of wanton vandalism. He said that the research at Vane Farm was vital to his transplant work. These people were doing no good at all; they were endangering the lives of sick children.’

‘Go on, hit the cuddly bunny button,’ said Dunbar under his breath.

‘What d’you think?’ asked Lisa when the piece had ended.

‘Looks like they bought the animal rights angle,’ said Dunbar.

‘A bit hard on them,’ said Lisa.

‘Don’t feel too sorry for them,’ said Dunbar. ‘They don’t exactly play by the rules themselves.’

Lisa raised her eyebrows but said only, ‘More coffee?’

Dunbar held out his cup.

‘You said you got what you went for,’ said Lisa.

‘I managed to copy the disks with Ross’s research data on them.’

‘The evidence you need,’ said Lisa.

‘That’s what I’m about to find out,’ said Dunbar, getting to his feet a bit unsteadily. ‘I’d best get started.’

‘You’re exhausted!’ Lisa protested. ‘You need rest. You can’t possibly go in just yet.’

Dunbar started to argue but Lisa was insistent. ‘It’s still very early,’ she said. ‘At least put your head down for a couple of hours. You’ll feel all the better for it. I’ll wake you, I promise.’

Dunbar hesitated but then conceded he was very tired. He was asleep within seconds of his head touching the pillow in Lisa’s bed.

She woke him at ten.

‘I’d like to check on Jimmy’s condition before I go,’ said Dunbar as he was preparing to leave. ‘It would be safer if I did it from here.’

‘Of course,’ said Lisa.

Dunbar called Sci-Med. He didn’t ask to speak to Macmillan but the director came on the line anyway.

‘What went wrong, Dunbar?’

‘Just bad luck,’ replied Dunbar. ‘An unfortunate series of events, something that no one could have foreseen.’

‘What’s the fall-out liable to be?’

‘With a bit of luck there won’t be any,’ said Dunbar. ‘Scottish Television carried the story on their regional news programme this morning. Animal rights activists are being blamed for the break-in.’

‘And did you get what you were after?’

‘I did, but I haven’t had time to analyse it yet.’

‘Keep me informed.’

‘Yes, sir. I actually phoned to ask about the condition of the man assigned to me, James Douglas.’

‘Hang on a moment. I’ll transfer you.’

‘Operations manager.’

‘Steven Dunbar here. I’m trying to find out about the condition of James Douglas. He was injured last night on a job with me.’

‘I’ve just been reading the night duty officer’s report. Ambulances in the middle of the night, hush-hush operations, surgeons called from their beds. God knows how I’m going to put all this through the books.’

‘How’s Jimmy?’ asked Dunbar with an edge to his voice that said his temper was fraying.

‘Let’s see… report in from the Bladen Clinic, Glasgow, at 09.00 hours. Patient reported as being comfortable after an operation to repair severed tendons and tissue damage to his right arm. He’s expected to make a good recovery, but it will take time.’

Dunbar closed his eyes. ‘Thank God,’ he whispered.

‘Friend of yours?’ asked the operations manager.

‘We were on a job together. It went wrong.’

‘Happens.’

‘News?’ asked Lisa who had come back into the room on hearing Dunbar put the phone down.

‘Jimmy’s going to be okay.’

‘You must be relieved.’

‘I’ll say. I felt responsible.’

‘From what you told me, it was just one of those things.’

‘Neither of us is particularly good at accepting that explanation,’ said Dunbar. He kissed her lightly on the forehead.

‘Call me later?’

‘Sure.’

Kate was on her knees in front of the oven, scrubbing it out with a scouring pad. It was a job she normally hated, but this morning she was singing as she worked. Amanda had been doing so well recently that everything seemed much brighter. Life was worth living again. She hadn’t said anything to Sandy, for fear of tempting fate, but inside she felt that quite soon the possibility of Amanda coming home and changing over to home dialysis would be raised. In the meantime she had persuaded Sandy to go hill-walking at the weekend with his friends. It was something he enjoyed and something he hadn’t done since Amanda’s illness started. He had almost finished her doll’s house — complete with lights in every room; it would do him good to get away and do his own thing for a while.

Kate had her head half in, half out of the oven and was launching into a lusty, if tunefully suspect, chorus of ‘Love is All Around Us’ when she stopped. She was not mistaken; the phone was ringing.

‘Was it ever different?’ she thought as she got to her feet, stripping off her gloves as she skipped through to the living room.

‘Mrs Chapman? It’s Dr Hatfull here at Medic Ecosse. I’ve got some good news for you. We’ve had notification that a kidney is likely to become available for Amanda very soon.’

Kate couldn’t speak for a few moments.

‘Mrs Chapman? Are you there?’

‘Sorry, yes, I’m here. That’s absolutely wonderful news. Excuse me, I think I’m…’ Kate searched for her handkerchief. ‘Oh dear, now you’ll think I’m a stupid, over-emotional woman.’

‘Not at all. We’re all delighted here, too.’

Kate did her best to sound composed. She took a deep breath and asked, ‘Can you say when, Doctor?’

‘We think some time in the next few days.’

‘That soon?’

‘As I understand it, the putative donor has been declared brain-dead but is currently on a life-support machine. Permission for organ removal has been obtained, so it’s just a question of completing certain formalities. The donor isn’t in a British hospital, so there will be transport details to arrange. I’m afraid I can’t give you any more details; I don’t have that information to hand.’

‘I think I’d rather not know any more,’ said Kate.

‘Of course. Why don’t you call us later on? We’ll be able to tell you more about dates.’

Kate put down the phone. Her hands were shaking and her pulse was racing. She didn’t know what to do first. Sandy! She had to tell Sandy! Her fingers were all thumbs as she dialled the number of the local hospital. ‘Get me the lab, please.’

‘Ringing for you now.’

‘Lab.’

‘Sandy, it’s me. A kidney’s going to become available for Amanda in the next few days!’

‘You’re kidding!’

‘No, I’m not. I’ve just had Dr Hatfull on the phone. They’ve identified a donor and they’ve got permission. It’ll be coming from abroad so they have transport to arrange but he sounded confident. It’s going to happen!’

‘That’s absolutely wonderful! I can’t believe it. I thought we’d have to wait for God knows how long.’

‘Me too. I thought the best that could happen would be that she would be allowed home, but this is even better.’

‘I still can’t believe it,’ stammered Sandy. ‘This is just so good, I…’ Words failed him.

She heard the sob in his voice. ‘I know,’ she said gently. ‘I feel just the same.’

All thoughts of the oven disappeared from Kate’s head. She wanted to tell absolutely everyone. She phoned her mother and father, and then Sandy’s mother and father, before putting on her coat and running down to the school to see Isa Jenkins. She met the janitor at the door.

‘Hello, Mrs Chapman,’ he said. ‘Coming back to us then?’

‘Soon, Joe, soon,’ Kate replied as she hurried along the corridor to Isa’s classroom.

Isa was teaching but Kate gestured to her through the glass door panel and she smiled and came outside.

‘Amanda’s going to have her transplant,’ said Kate, her eyes bright with excitement.

‘Oh my dear, I’m so happy for you,’ said Isa, putting her arms round Kate and hugging her.

‘I can’t believe it,’ said Kate. ‘It’s a prayer answered, a dream come true.’

‘And kidney transplants are really just routine these days,’ said Isa. ‘She’ll be back at school in no time and so will you, I hope. We all miss you.’

‘I can’t wait,’ replied Kate. ‘I just want everything to be as it was before this awful business started.’

‘I’m sure it will be,’ said Isa. ‘Now I’d better get back to the geography of the Amazon delta and you’ve probably got a thousand things to do.’

‘I don’t know where to start,’ laughed Kate. ‘I just had to come and tell you and thank you for your support through all this.’

‘No need,’ said Isa. ‘I’ll pray that everything goes well for her.’

When she got home Kate decided to phone Clive Turner at the Children’s Hospital and tell him the news.

‘What a piece of luck,’ he said. ‘That’s absolutely marvellous. I’m so pleased for you all. You hardly had to wait any time at all.’

‘I can’t believe it myself,’ said Kate. ‘I just wanted to thank you for suggesting the referral in the first place. I shudder to think what might have happened if it hadn’t come about.’

Turner wanted to point out that the Children’s Hospital might have been equally successful in stabilizing Amanda in the long run, but he didn’t. He realized that Kate was euphoric and excited and meant no slight to his own hospital. He simply said, ‘I wish her all the luck, Kate, not that I think she’ll need it.’

Lack of proper sleep almost caused Dunbar to make a serious mistake. He wanted to start work at once on analysing Ross’s research data disks and had loaded the first one into the computer in his office when he remembered the monitoring cable. He hit the eject button with a thump, and the disk popped out into his waiting hand. The blood started pounding in his temples. Had the disk registered its presence on screen before he’d hit the button? He hadn’t seen it come up in the corner of the screen but then he hadn’t been looking closely.

Fear had now made him very wide awake indeed. He had to act quickly. He brought out his notebook computer and quickly loaded the disk into it. He needed to know its title. The disc was named simply ‘Research Data One’. This was a bit of luck. He ejected it and replaced it with a blank disc which he initialized as ‘Research Data One’. There was no reason why he couldn’t have a disk of his own with that title. He’d leave it lying around on his desk, just in case anyone had seen Ross’s disk register when he’d put it in. He quickly transferred some accounts data to it, then, satisfied that he’d covered his tracks as well as he could, put Ross’s disk into his notebook computer and started to work through the data.

True to character, Ross was meticulous with his experimental records. They made straightforward reading to someone with a medical background. Dunbar found out exactly what he wanted to know, and quickly. That was the good part. The bottom line said that Ross and his colleagues had made much progress in altering the genetic make-up of experimental pigs to contain elements of the human immune system. The bad news was that they were still a very long way from being able to transplant pig organs into human subjects with any hope of success.

The records showed that immunological problems had plagued the programme from the outset. Ross and his team were struggling with a lack of stability in the transgenic pigs’ make-up which had brought progress practically to a halt and showed no sign of resolution in the near future. They had not even started to address the problems associated with the possibility of viral transfer from pigs to humans, the objection that was currently the main stumbling-block as far as government licensing was concerned.

This all meant only one thing to Dunbar. His recent doubts were well founded. He’d been on the wrong track all along. With things the way they stood, Ross would not have dreamed of attempting pig-to-human transplants.

After checking that she was still at home, Dunbar drove back to Lisa’s place to tell her the bad news in person. ‘There’s been no big research breakthrough,’ he said dejectedly. ‘Ross is nowhere near being able to transplant animal organs successfully. There’d have been no point in even trying. We were wrong.’

‘But the kids still died,’ said Lisa. ‘And I’m still certain they were given incompatible organs.’

Dunbar nodded.

‘And you actually saw them removing organs from a pig at the hospital.’

‘I’ve no doubt that Ross is up to something,’ agreed Dunbar. ‘But it’s not as straightforward as we imagined. Ross is just too clever a man. I tried making a list of everything out of the ordinary I’d seen at Medic Ecosse, to see if I could fit more pieces into the puzzle, but no success so far.’

‘What sorts of things?’ she asked.

Dunbar shrugged. ‘Little things. There’s a kid in at the moment, Amanda Chapman. She’s waiting on a kidney transplant. Medic Ecosse gave her a marrow puncture she didn’t really need — all her blood stats were known already. Everyone seemed to know that except the people in charge of her treatment.’

‘A marrow puncture?’ exclaimed Lisa as if it meant something to her.

Dunbar felt a chill across the back of his neck. ‘Yes. Why?’

‘Amy had that done as well,’ said Lisa.

‘Amy Teasdale had a marrow puncture she didn’t need?’

‘I remember one of the housemen pointing out that it wasn’t necessary, but Dr Ross insisted she had one anyway.’

‘Tell me about it,’ said Dunbar. ‘I want to know everything that happened to Amy.’

‘You know most of it. She was a difficult case. She’d been ill almost from the time she was born, and appealing to Medic Ecosse was a last resort for her doctors.’

‘So no one was too surprised when she died,’ said Dunbar thoughtfully.

‘Put that way, I suppose not,’ agreed Lisa. ‘People were more surprised that the hospital took her on in the first place when things hadn’t been going too well for them financially and Amy seemed a bit of a lost cause anyway.’

‘A bit like Amanda.’

Lisa looked questioningly at Dunbar but he chose not to elaborate. Instead, he said, ‘Then you rocked the boat when you started saying that Amy died because she’d been given the wrong organ?’

‘I suppose so. You see, she was only a lost cause when they couldn’t find a suitable kidney for her, but within weeks of coming in to Medic Ecosse they did. By rights she should have been perfectly okay after her transplant.’

‘There was an Omega patient in the hospital at the time, wasn’t there?’ said Dunbar, still half preoccupied with his own thoughts.

‘Yes. How did you know?’

‘I checked the dates of free transplant patients before Amanda Chapman against those of Omega patients.’

‘Why?’

‘I thought at first that the hospital might be using income from Omega patients to cover the costs of expensive free referrals.’

‘And now?’

‘There’s more to it. I wonder if Kenneth Lineham was a free transplant patient too?’

‘Couldn’t you check?’

‘The list of free referral patients didn’t include names. I suppose I could-’ He broke off in mid-sentence.

‘What is it?’

‘I’ve just remembered something,’ said Dunbar excitedly. ‘Sheila Barnes, in her journal, got quite upset at one point because an Omega patient seemed to be getting more attention than her patient. That means there was an Omega patient in the hospital at the same time as Kenneth Lineham. He must have been the first free transplant patient, Amy was the second and now Amanda Chapman is number three. All apparently hopeless cases taken on out of the goodness of Medic Ecosse’s heart and always at the same time as an Omega patient.’

‘But surely that means-’

‘That Amanda Chapman is in great danger,’ interrupted Dunbar. ‘Just like the others.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘We need more than just suspicion,’ said Dunbar, exasperation showing on his face. ‘We need hard evidence and we haven’t got any. We don’t even have a clue what they’re really up to.’

Lisa looked alarmed. ‘We can’t just do nothing,’ she said.

‘I’m going to talk to Clive Turner. He might have an idea.’ She nodded.

Dunbar called Turner at the Children’s Hospital. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner,’ he began. ‘The truth is, I haven’t been able to find out discreetly why Amanda Chapman was given an unnecessary marrow puncture.’

‘As it happens, I don’t think anyone is going to be too upset, even if it was a mistake,’ said Turner.

‘What’s changed?’

‘A kidney’s become available for Amanda. Hadn’t you heard?’

‘No, I hadn’t,’ said Dunbar slowly. ‘That is good news.’ He said the words but his head suddenly seemed full of broken glass. It was happening all over again. It was happening to Amanda just as it had to the others. She was going to die. She was going to reject her transplant.

‘Amazing luck really,’ continued Turner. ‘She’s a very fortunate young lady.’

‘Clive, could I come over there? I need to talk to you.’

‘Why… yes, I suppose so. Is something the matter?’

‘I’m not sure. How about now?’

‘If you like.’

‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’

He found Turner in the duty room, talking to a colleague.

‘Clive? I’m Steven Dunbar.’

Turner broke off his conversation and turned to shake hands. ‘We can talk next door,’ he said. He ushered Dunbar into a small, sparsely furnished room and offered him coffee from a half-full flask that sat on an electric heating plate. This and a computer terminal were the only furnishings in the room, apart from two hard chairs and an old Formica-topped table. It said something about modern-day priorities.

‘Thanks. Black, no sugar.’

Turner handed Dunbar his coffee and sat down opposite him. ‘You sounded a bit concerned on the phone?’

Dunbar nodded. ‘The truth is I don’t quite know where to begin. I know you’re going to find this hard to believe, but something very wrong is going on at Medic Ecosse and I think Amanda Chapman is about to be caught up in it.’

‘Go on,’ said Turner, now looking serious.

Dunbar told Turner who he really was and why he had been sent to Medic Ecosse.

‘So you think Amanda is at risk like the previous two,’ said Turner.

‘I do. I don’t know how or why exactly, but I do feel she’s in great danger.’

Turner moved his hands in a gesture of confusion and tried but failed to find words.

‘I’m sorry to have sprung this on you like this, but I need your input. You’re a transplant expert,’ said Dunbar.

‘There’s rather a lot to take in,’ said Turner. ‘James Ross has an international reputation. It’s difficult to believe he’s mixed up in anything shady. On the other hand, if what you say is true… What is it you want from me?’

‘I’d like to be able to call on you if it proves necessary at any point. I’d also be interested in any suggestions you might care to make as to why the kids died.’

‘You say both previous patients were given ostensibly compatible transplants yet they rejected them strongly? That would be unusual in itself.’

‘The computer agrees with you,’ said Dunbar. ‘I checked. They were the only two in the country to die with compatibility ratings as high as they had.’

Turner nodded. ‘You know that Ross has been experimenting with animal organs but you say you don’t think he risked trying them on the patients?’

‘I’ve seen his research data. There was no hope of success with pig organs the way they are at the moment. There would have been no point in attempting it.’

‘What about a mistake in the compatibility ratings given to the donor organs?’ suggested Turner.

‘Checked at both ends in Amy Teasdale’s case,’ said Dunbar.

Turner made a face. ‘They agreed?’

‘To within five per cent.’

‘Maybe we should check up on the kidney they’ve found for Amanda?’

‘Good idea,’ agreed Dunbar.

Turner logged on to the computer terminal in the corner of the room and asked for access to the donor database. While the machine was considering his request, he suddenly swore as if he’d just remembered something and got up to go next door. He came back clutching Amanda Chapman’s old notes. ‘We’re in luck,’ he said. ‘I thought they might have been taken down for filing. I need to know her tissue type.’

He thought for a moment, then went on, ‘It won’t be any good asking for a kidney match if the kidneys have already been booked for Amanda, but it might still be possible to ask about the availability of the liver.’ He entered the request for a liver, along with Amanda Chapman’s tissue type.

There was a delay of about thirty seconds before the screen filled with information. ‘There we are,’ said Turner quietly. ‘There’s our donor. Eighty-four per cent homology. A first-class match. Amanda should have no problem at all. All straight and above-board.’

Dunbar stared at the screen without emotion. ‘You’d better decline the liver,’ he said. ‘They’re holding it for you.’

Turner was about to enter the cancellation when Dunbar put a hand on his arm. ‘Before you cancel, can you find out where the organ is coming from?’

‘Sure.’

Turner requested the information, still under the pretext of searching for a liver for someone with Amanda’s tissue type. ‘Here it comes,’ he said as the screen blinked and changed. ‘The organ is available through the Kohl Clinic.’

‘Where’s that?’ asked Dunbar.

‘Geneva.’

‘Sweet Jesus,’ muttered Dunbar.

‘Something wrong?’

‘Ross has some connection with Geneva, a consultancy, something like that.’

‘Switzerland is full of private clinics,’ said Turner. ‘I don’t think you can read anything too sinister into that.’

Dunbar held up his hands in defence. ‘I know, I know,’ he said. ‘It’s just that everywhere I turn I find little clues like that. I just can’t fit all the pieces together yet.’

Turner looked at him in silence for a few moments before saying, ‘I wish you luck. I feel sort of responsible for Amanda; I suggested the referral in the first place.’

‘And I didn’t raise any objection,’ said Dunbar with a wry smile. ‘That makes me equally guilty. You said the organ was “available through the Kohl Clinic”. What exactly does that mean?’

‘I’m not sure,’ confessed Turner. ‘I suspect it means that the patient isn’t actually in the clinic but the clinic is handling the arrangements.’

‘I see,’ said Dunbar thoughtfully. He sensed that Turner wasn’t telling all he knew. ‘Handling the arrangements?’ he prompted.

‘All right, I have my suspicions,’ said Turner. ‘There’s a black market in human organs just like there’s a black market in anything else that there’s a demand for. I suspect this Kohl Clinic may be a front for that sort of thing.’

‘I’ve heard stories of healthy people selling a kidney to make money in places like India,’ said Dunbar. ‘I didn’t realize how widespread it was.’

‘It goes on. I’ve heard tell that they even have a tissue-type register of people who are prepared to do this so they can call them in when a request comes through.’

‘God, what a world,’ sighed Dunbar.

‘That’s just a guess,’ insisted Turner. ‘And these organs don’t come cheap. It wouldn’t make any sense in Amanda’s case if Medic Ecosse are doing the paying.’

‘No, it wouldn’t,’ said Dunbar. ‘But not making sense is par for the course.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m not being much help.’

‘You’ve given me something else to think about.’

‘You really are worried about this transplant, aren’t you?’ said Turner.

‘I’ve got such a bad feeling about it. But on the face of it, Amanda’s in a top-class hospital under the care of a world-famous surgeon and she’s about to receive a kidney with an eighty-four per cent compatibility rating. What can I do?’

‘Not a lot,’ said Turner.

‘Incidentally, they did a marrow puncture on Amy Teasdale too. It wasn’t a mistake. Ross knew she’d had one done before.’

‘He must have wanted stem cells,’ said Turner. ‘Wonder why? Maybe something to do with his immuno-preparation work.’ He shrugged and asked, ‘Is there anything else you’d like me to do?’

‘Just be available,’ said Dunbar. ‘Right now, I don’t know why or what for.’

‘I’ll give you my home number and a mobile as well.’

Dunbar returned to Medic Ecosse. He supposed he felt better for the chat with Turner, but he was far from easy in his mind. As he parked his car and walked round to the front of the hospital, a taxi drew up outside the front entrance and two men got out. They were well-dressed and had the aura of successful professional men, Dunbar noted as he passed that one was carrying a very expensive alligator-skin medical bag. Both had American accents.

Out of curiosity, Dunbar lingered near Reception, pretending to look for something in his briefcase.

‘We’re expected,’ said one of the men as they reached the desk.

‘Dr Ross left word,’ said the receptionist. She rang the bell for the porter and said to him, ‘Show these gentlemen up to the Omega wing, will you?’

Dunbar waited until the three men had disappeared before approaching the receptionist.

‘Dr Dunbar, what can I do for you?’

‘Those two men. Who were they?’

‘I couldn’t rightly say, Doctor. Dr Ross just advised me that two medical gentlemen would be arriving sometime this afternoon. Sounded American, if you ask me.’