Trauma

Fourteen

“So what do we do?” Main asked.

“I’ll just have to be very careful,” Sarah replied.

“I don’t think that will be good enough,” said Lafferty.

“Then what?” asked Sarah.

“You’ll have to get out of here,” said Lafferty flatly. Main drew in his breath. Sarah looked shocked.

“But her career...” said Main.

“It’s her life we have to consider,” said Lafferty. He looked at Sarah and said, “Perhaps there’s a way you could take some leave or arrange some kind of secondment until this business is over,” he said.

Sarah put her hand to her head and said, “I hadn’t thought... I don’t know... I don’t want to run away... I’m in it too, you know.”

“But Ryan’s right,” said Main. “It is too dangerous for you to continue working here. You must see that.”

Sarah nodded reluctantly then an idea seemed to strike her. She said, “I met Dr Tyndall’s brother at the reception the hospital gave for them over their new vaccine. It’s just possible that I could spend some time in his research lab up at the university medical school. That way I would be away from Logan but still be around to keep in touch with you two.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Lafferty.

Main agreed. “You’ll speak to Dr Tyndall about it tomorrow?” he asked.

Sarah promised that she would.

“So how do we go about proving it?” asked Main. “We can’t go to the police without something concrete in the way of evidence. I suspect they will need something more than Ryan’s word that Mary O’Donnell’s coffin was empty and an informed guess that Simon’s was too.”

Lafferty agreed and said, “Logan must have accomplices. I think we’re all agreed on that. Maybe that’s where we’ll find the weak link. We need someone who’ll talk. From what Sarah told us about the routine procedure after a death someone must be being paid to turn a blind eye to certain irregularities. Do we know if the same firm of funeral directors was used in both Simon’s and Mary O’Donnell’s case?”

“I used Maitland Stroud in Morningside,” said Main.

Lafferty’s shoulders sagged. He said, “The O’Donnells used Granby’s in Dalkeith Road.”

“They can’t all be in on it,” said Main.

Lafferty looked at his watch and saw that it was after one. “Let’s sleep on it,” he suggested.

“Some of us,” smiled Sarah.

“Sorry,” said Lafferty. “You’ll call me tomorrow when you’ve spoken to Dr Tyndall?”

Sarah said that she would. She accompanied Main and Lafferty to the door where they parted with whispered good-nights.

Main and Lafferty did not speak again until they were inside Lafferty’s car. They both seemed to sense that the hospital was no longer a friendly place. It had become alien, threatening, a place to fear rather than trust.

“Do you think it’s worthwhile asking the undertakers whether they actually saw Simon’s body?” asked Main.

“No,” replied Lafferty firmly.

“Why not?”

“If they did, we’ll be no further forward and if they didn’t and didn’t say anything about it, it would mean they’re involved so they wouldn’t tell us anyway. Either way, we would be advertising our suspicions. It would get back to Logan.”

Main accepted what Lafferty said without comment for a moment, preferring instead to watch the road as they twisted and turned through the dark and largely deserted streets. “You’re right,” he conceded. “I’m just not thinking straight.”

Lafferty smiled as he flicked on the wipers to deal the drizzly rain that had just started. “You’re doing just fine,” he said. “None of this can be easy for you.”

“You know, I actually think I’m glad things have turned out this way,” said Main. “It actually gives me a good feeling to think that part of Simon is alive inside someone else.”

“Good,” said Lafferty quietly.

“Even if it turns out that his body was used as part of some crooked medical scam involving millions, I’ll still be glad. It won’t matter who the patient is, whether he’s the son of an Arab sheikh or a Texas oil millionaire, just as long as the kid’s alive thanks to Simon.”

“I think that’s the right view,” said Lafferty.

“I just wish I could have said yes at the time instead of going through all this,” said Main. “But Dr Tyndall asked me at precisely the wrong moment.”

Lafferty brought the car to a halt outside Main’s apartment block.

“Would you like to come up for coffee or a drink?” Main asked.

Lafferty shook his head and said, “Let’s both get some sleep. We need it.”

As Lafferty drove back to St Xavier’s his thoughts turned to Sarah Lasseter and the danger she was in. He comforted himself with the thought that Logan couldn’t afford to harm her while he and Main were on the scene. It would be too obvious. So what would Logan do? He would secure his position, Lafferty decided. He would take extra care to see that no one got careless. He would take no risks at all until Sarah Lasseter and her prying friends had disappeared from the scene. That might make the investigation doubly difficult but surely with something this big there had to be some way of getting inside it.

Lafferty decided to leave the car parked outside on the road rather than go to the trouble of opening the gates leading to the parking area beside the house. He took the short cut through the old churchyard, his feet crunching on the stones of the path as he skirted the church to reach the house. As he rounded the last corner, he came to an abrupt halt and his blood ran cold at the sight that met him. There wasn’t much light but he could see that an animal was nailed to his front door. As he drew nearer he could see it was a cat. Its stomach had been slit open and its entrails were hanging out. The smell made Lafferty put a hand to his face. He looked away for a moment and saw something else that made his heart stop. There was a body lying in the shadows beside the door.

He squatted down and turned the body so he could see the face. It was Mrs Grogan! He felt for a pulse and found one; she was alive; she had just fainted. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her round to the side door. Once safely inside, he called the police and Alan Jarvis who he knew was Mrs Grogan’s GP. He was also Lafferty’s, though he seldom had need of him. Mrs Grogan came to before either had arrived and Lafferty had to calm her through her initial panic at the recollection of what she’d found on the door.

“I came round about ten o’clock,” she stammered. “I’d forgotten to take my magazines home earlier so I thought I would pick them up on my way home from my sister. But when I got to the door...”

Mrs Grogan buried her face in her handkerchief and Lafferty put an arm round her shoulders. Outside, cars were starting to draw up.

Lafferty glanced at the clock and saw that it coming up to two. This was shaping up to be another night without sleep, and it was beginning to tell on his patience. Mrs Grogan had been suitably soothed and sedated by her GP and the police had agreed to take her home. Other policemen, however, had remained to ask, just about every stupid bloody question they could think of, in Lafferty’s view. He had expected the incident to be dealt with by a Panda crew but they had been joined by a full inspector and his sergeant from CID. It was Inspector Lenny, the officer who had attended on the canal bank.

“Because you are involved sir,” replied Lenny, when Lafferty asked why someone so senior had come.

“I don’t understand,” said Lafferty, suddenly feeling apprehensive.

“It goes something like this sir,” said the policeman, holding Lafferty’s gaze as if it were some kind of test. “You were the priest who was looking for McKirrop to ask him about witchcraft in the cemetery. You were the priest who found him dead. Now you are the priest who has a black cat nailed to his door. You seem to lead an exciting life, sir.”

Lafferty remained silent.

“And now you are going to tell me that you have no idea who did this or why. Am I right, sir?”

Lafferty nodded. “Quite right,” he said. “I’ve absolutely no idea.”

It was the police inspector’s turn to keep quiet while he stared at Lafferty disconcertingly. Eventually he said, “I’m no expert sir but I would think that a cat nailed to your door had something to do with black magic or satanic ritual, or am I wrong?”

“That would be my guess too,” agreed Lafferty.

There was another long pause before Lenny said, “Frankly sir, we — the police that is — have been having a hard time over what happened to the Main boy. We’ve not been making any headway because no one will speak to us about black magic or devil worship.”

“I see,” said Lafferty. “It can’t be easy for you.”

“No sir. We’re becoming paranoid about it. I’m even inclined to think that you yourself just might know a good bit more than you are letting on.”

Lafferty shrugged and said, “I assure you Inspector. I know as little about the subjects you mentioned as you do.”

“Your cleaner had a bit of a shock tonight sir,” said the policeman, changing tack.

“Quite so,” said Lafferty.

“My driver said she was still quite distraught on the way home... Mentioned something about you having books on witchcraft in the house, your bed not being slept in, things like that.” The policeman paused to watch the effect of what he was saying before continuing, “I realise of course that she was upset and all this might be—”

“I’ll informed tittle-tattle,” interrupted Lafferty. “And that’s exactly what it is.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“I do.”

Lenny exchanged glances with his sergeant and got to his feet. He said, “Well, we’ll be getting along, sir. If there is anything else you might like to tell us, please get in touch.”

“I will.”

The inspector smiled and said as a parting shot, “After all sir, we’re all on the same side, aren’t we?”

The policeman clearly thought he’d had the last word and had turned to leave when Lafferty said, “Have you had the forensic report on the four men who died in the car fire, Inspector?”

The policeman stooped in his tracks and turned. He seemed surprised by the question.

“Yes sir, as a matter of fact we have. I understand there were no suspicious circumstances. A short circuit in the electric fuel pump seems to have been the culprit, caused by a leaking fuel can in the boot just above it. An act of God, you might say.”

“I’m not too sure that God will be happy to take the blame for that one, Inspector,” said Lafferty.

“What are you inferring, sir?”

“Nothing Inspector. Let’s just say you’re not the only one suffering from paranoia.”

Lafferty watched the police circus depart. His eyes followed the black plastic bag that contained the cat and its message of black magic. His lips broke into a wry smile. “Not convinced,” he murmured. “Not convinced at all.”

Sarah had little time for brooding. Several patients in HTU had a disturbed night and she was on call constantly. For the most part it was a case of altering the settings on the life-support systems, but for one patient, Martin Keegan, it was the end of the line. He was the patient that Logan had called in to see earlier when he had found her with Lafferty and John Main. Keegan had been involved in a road traffic accident. His car had swerved across the central reservation of the M8 motorway and hit an oncoming heavy goods vehicle. In addition to severe head injuries, he had suffered extensive damage to his left leg and foot where he had been trapped in the wreckage. Logan had been right about his condition; it had been worsening. At a little before seven in the morning, he lost all trace of brain function. Sarah repeated the Sigma probe tests at the most sensitive setting but still could find no trace of activity.

“No good?” asked the staff nurse.

Sarah shook her head. “Afraid not,” she said.

“Dr Logan didn’t think he was going to make it,” confided the nurse. “He asked that he be informed if things got worse.”

“Really?” asked Sarah, surprised. “I didn’t get that message.”

The nurse was uncomfortable with this news. “There was a message left at the nurses’ station.”

“I see,” said Sarah. “Have you any idea why Dr Logan made this request?”

“I understand he wanted to speak to the relatives personally,” replied the nurse.

“But Dr Tyndall always speaks to the relatives,” said Sarah.

The nurse shrugged as if she was unwilling to get any deeper into this particular conversation.

“All right. Thank you, Staff,” said Sarah with a smile. “You’d better call him, but give me five minutes first will you?”

The nurse nodded her agreement and Sarah went back to the doctors’ room. What the hell was Logan up to this time? Was this the new plan? Get in first with the relatives and brow-beat them into giving transplant permission before Tyndall spoke to them? That way he wouldn’t have to steal the bodies. Sarah was furious; she picked up the phone and called Tyndall.

“Dr Tyndall? It’s Sarah Lasseter here. I’m sorry to bother you, but I thought you should know that Martin Keegan has lost all brain function. Dr Logan left word with the nursing staff that he should be informed if this happened. I understand that he intends to contact the family personally with a view to seeing them in the morning. I thought you might like to be present too?”

“That’s very considerate of you Doctor,” replied Tyndall thoughtfully. “I certainly would. Perhaps you would leave word to that effect for Dr Logan before you go off duty. Just say that I should like to speak to the relations as is my usual practice.”

“Yes sir,” said Sarah. She made a request for a meeting of her own with Tyndall and was told that four o’clock would be convenient. She put the phone down and felt pleased with the outcome of her call. “Checkmate, Dr Logan,” she murmured under her breath.

Sarah was woken from a deep sleep just after midday by her door bell ringing.

“All right, all right!” she complained as she struggled out of bed and fought her way into a dressing-gown. She opened the door to find Derek Logan standing there. He looked furious.

“What do you think you are playing at?” he demanded. He walked into the room so forcibly that Sarah had to step back sharply to avoid being trampled on. Logan closed the door behind him and Sarah felt afraid.

“What do you mean?” she stammered.

“You and Tyndall? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Get out of my room!”

“You told Tyndall about the Keegan boy, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” said Sarah.

“Why?” demanded Logan.

“So that he would see the parents.”

The honesty of Sarah’s reply seemed to stop Logan in his tracks. “For God’s sake, why?” he asked.

“Because you have all the charm of an orangutan with piles,” said Sarah, using up her last reserves of courage. “I didn’t want the Keegan boy’s parents being subjected to a charmless ghoul demanding their son’s body.”

“Jesus Christ!” said Logan in a hoarse whisper. “So you call in Saint Murdoch and he lets them off the hook without batting an eyelid. As you wish, Mr Keegan. Fiery Furnace it is then Mr Keegan. Out with the Sigma probes and it’s into the fire with perfectly good kidneys, lungs, eyes; you name it.”

“That’s their right,” said Sarah.

“That’s their right,” mimicked Logan in a sing-song voice. “Don’t you ever think?” he demanded. “Don’t you realise how much good these perfectly healthy organs could do?”

Or how much money you could make, thought Sarah but she didn’t say it.

“Do you know how many transplant permissions we’ve had in the last eighteen months in HTU?” asked Logan.

Sarah shook her head.

“None,” said Logan. “Not one.”

Sarah remained mute.

“And all because our noble leader is more interested in promoting his own image as Mr Nice-guy.”

“That’s unfair!” Sarah protested.

“Is it?” said Logan. “Not one in eighteen months. That’s an appalling record.”

“Not all doctors are fans of transplant technology,” replied Sarah, but it sounded weak.

Logan gave her a disparaging look. “Come on,” he protested. “We’re not talking about twenty years ago when transplant patients lasted ten minutes on a good day. We both know what the modern success rate is. Why doesn’t he try harder to get permission?”

Sarah did not reply. She was thinking how much easier it would be for Logan to run his scam with official permission.

Logan’s expression suddenly changed and he drew in breath sharply as if he had just realised or remembered something. He turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving Sarah feeling exhausted, partly from tiredness, but mainly from fear.

She sat down on the bed as she felt her legs become weak as she took pleasure for a moment in the fact that Logan had gone. He left in his wake a silence which was gradually invaded by the everyday sounds of normality. Traffic, a distant police siren, a meal trolley being wheeled across the yard outside. There was no question of going back to sleep. She would just lie back down on the bed and try to rest until it was time for her appointment with Tyndall.

Logan had been furious with her but he hadn’t harmed her. She had feared for her life when he forced his way into her room but to her surprise, he hadn’t even mentioned the business of Ryan Lafferty and John Main being in HTU the night before. He hadn’t tried to pump her on how much she knew. Instead, he had concentrated on Tyndall’s failure to get transplant permission. Was he offering this as an excuse for what he was doing?The manner of his going had also been strange. What had made him suddenly turn on his heel and leave?

Sarah tried to put Logan out of her mind as she thought what she was going to say to Murdoch Tyndall. She hoped he wouldn’t stand in her way because she was excited by the prospect of meeting up with his brother, Cyril, again. If she was really honest with herself she would have to admit that the excuse of getting away from Logan had given her the chance to find out more about Cyril Tyndall’s suggestion that she might conceivably have a career in research. Maybe it was fate, she reasoned. She had tried convincing herself that she still really wanted to go into general practice with her father, but there was no escaping the fact that Professor Tyndall had dangled quite a different prospect in front of her and it was undeniably exciting. For a moment she remembered Paddy Duncan’s joking comment that she was a medical ‘groupie’. It annoyed her.

Murdoch Tyndall put Sarah at her ease as soon as she entered his office. “Now then, Sarah,” he smiled. “How can I help you?”

“It’s a bit difficult,” began Sarah.

“Something’s wrong, I can see that,” said Tyndall.

“I have to get away from HTU for a bit, only temporarily, but I do have to get away.”

Tyndall regarded Sarah in silence for a moment before spreading his hands on the desk in front of him and saying, “Is that it? No explanation?”

“It’s very difficult for me to speak frankly sir but Dr Logan and I do not see eye to eye and I’m feeling the strain.”

“A clash of personalities?” asked Tyndall.

“Something like that.”

“And what would you propose doing during this ‘temporary absence’?” asked Tyndall.

“With your permission sir, I have a suggestion to make.”

“Go on”

Sarah told Tyndall of her earlier conversation with his brother and asked if she might be permitted to spend some time in Cyril Tyndall’s lab in the medical school.

“I see,” said Tyndall thoughtfully. “But are you sure that laboratory medicine is something you want to do?”

“No sir, I’m not. But I would appreciate the opportunity to find out.”

“But if this is to be a temporary arrangement won’t the problem still be here when you return?” asked Tyndall.

“I believe it will be resolved by that time,” said Sarah.

“Very cryptic,” smiled Tyndall. “Is there something I don’t know about?”

“Yes sir, but that is as much as I can say at the moment.”

Tyndall intertwined his fingers and said, “Dr Lasseter, Dr Logan reported to me that you had been ‘entertaining guests’ while on duty. Normally I would take a dim view of this but, on pressing him further he told me that your ‘guests’ were in fact, Father Lafferty and the Main boy’s father.”

“Yes sir.”

“You obviously don’t want to tell me more, so I won’t press you, but can I ask if their visit had something to do with the ‘problem’ with Dr Logan?”

“Yes sir, it did.”

Tyndall sat back in his seat and said, “Very well, Doctor, I’ll see what can be arranged. I’ll call my brother before I leave.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Sarah, feeling relieved and getting up. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“I have to think of the patients,” said Tyndall. “Discord between the staff is something we cannot allow.”

Sarah called Lafferty and told him how the Meeting had gone.

“And do you think his brother will agree?” asked Lafferty.

“Unless he’s changed his mind,” replied Sarah.

“Excellent,” said Lafferty.

Sarah told him of Logan’s visit to her room earlier and of what had been said. Lafferty picked up on the fact that the incident had been prompted by the death of another patient in HTU.

“Tell me about the Keegan boy.”

Sarah gave him a brief resumé of the case.

“This may be our chance to catch Logan out,” said Lafferty. “A young patient for whom transplant permission was refused. Presumably the boy’s body should be in the hospital mortuary?”

“I think so,” said Sarah but then she added as an afterthought, “Actually I’m not at all sure. I’ve just realised I’ve been overlooking something.”

“What’s that?” asked Lafferty.

“Some of our patients are fitted with a type of monitor we call Sigma probes. They are actually implanted in the skull. If a patient fitted with these probes should die, we have to have the probes removed by specialist technicians before anything else happens to the body.”

“Where do they do this?” asked Lafferty.

“I don’t really know,” confessed Sarah. “They come and remove the body from the unit. I’m not sure what happens after that. I suppose I assumed they took the body to the mortuary when they’d finished with it and the undertakers would take over from there but maybe not.”

“Maybe not,” agreed Lafferty.

“Do you think that—” Sarah began excitedly.

“It’s possible,” replied Lafferty. “Can you find out more about where the bodies go to have the probes removed?”

“I’ll try,” said Sarah.

“But be careful!” warned Lafferty. “In the meantime, I’ll try to find out which undertaker is dealing with the Keegan boy’s funeral.”

“You be careful too,” said Sarah.

“Let’s both be careful,” said Lafferty gently.

The more he thought about it, the more Lafferty felt that they had discovered how the theft of the bodies was carried out. The ‘specialist technicians’ Sarah had mentioned would have to be in on the scam but that would be all as far as the hospital and the university were concerned. All HTU cared about was getting the Sigma probes back so, even if it meant Logan replacing them out of his own pocket, it would be a small price to pay in the stakes he must be playing for. It would mean of course, that these same technicians were responsible for loading and sealing the coffins, otherwise the undertakers would know what was going on. He could check this if he could find out the name of the firm handling the Keegan funeral. He went out to get the local evening paper.

On the way back, Lafferty was stopped by one of his parishioners who seemed bent on telling him every detail of her medical history over the past five years. Lafferty made appropriate tutting and clucking noises at what he hoped were the right intervals but feared that his impatience might be showing. “It’s not an easy life you’ve had, Thelma,” he said to the small, fat woman standing before him, “but you’ve a loving family and a God that cares about you. See you on Sunday?”

“Yes, Father,” replied the woman, taken unawares as Lafferty sneaked off.

Lafferty ran his finger down the DEATHS column and stopped at Keegan.

“Tragically as the result of an accident, Martin John Keegan, beloved only son of James and Edwina Keegan. Funeral at Mortonhall Cemetery 11am on Thursday 18th. Flowers to Harkness and Glennie, Causewayside Lane.

Lafferty checked Yellow Pages and saw that Harkness and Glennie advertised twenty-four hour manning of their office. He would go there in person and ask about the Keegan boy’s body. First he would phone Main and let him know what was going on.

“Well done,” said Main when Lafferty told him. “It must be how they are doing it.”

“I think so,” agreed Lafferty. “If we can just show that the Keegan boy’s body has gone missing we can call in the police and give them all our information.”

“How are we going to do that?” asked Main.

Lafferty told him of his intended visit to the undertakers.

“Do you want me to come?” asked Main.

“Better if I go alone I think,” said Lafferty. “Priests have an obvious connection with death. It’ll arouse less suspicion if I go on my own.”

“As you wish. I’ll be waiting to hear what happens.”

Sarah went on duty at six. She had left it as late as possible in order to minimise contact with Derek Logan. In the event, he was nowhere to be seen when she entered HTU and looked into the duty room. “Good evening, Staff,” she said to the nurse sitting there. “What’s cooking?”

“Dr Tyndall is having words with Dr Logan,” replied the nurse, as if she was imparting a secret. “They’ve been going at it hammer and tongs for the past ten minutes.” The nurse held her finger to her lips and Sarah listened. She could hear raised voices coming from Tyndall’s office. She shrugged her shoulders round her ears in order to empathise with the nurse. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” replied the nurse. “Dr Logan suddenly appeared and walked into Dr Tyndall’s office without as much as a by-your-leave.”

Sarah made a face. She was about to say something else when the arguing voices grew suddenly louder. Both she and the staff nurse pretended to be otherwise occupied as Tyndall’s door opened and Logan emerged.

“You haven’t heard the last of this!” Logan was saying, his face red with anger.

He saw Sarah standing there as he shut Tyndall’s door, gave her a thunderous look that made the back of her neck tingle, and left.

“Something you said?” whispered the staff nurse who’d noticed.

“Must have been,” said Sarah. Her throat was tight.

Twenty minutes later, as Sarah was checking the patient in Beta 4, Murdoch Tyndall came in and stood opposite her. He seemed unruffled by whatever had passed between him and Logan. Sarah thought it the mark of a gentleman.

“I spoke to my brother about your request. He suggests you pop up tomorrow in your off-duty if that’s convenient?”

“Perfectly,” said Sarah.

Tyndall handed her a piece of paper with a telephone number on it. “That’s his personal extension. He asks that you call him before going up.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Sarah. “I’m most grateful.”

Tyndall smiled and turned on his heel. He made a point of saying, good night to the nurses and left.

When she had a moment, Sarah called Lafferty, but he was out.

It was shortly after seven thirty when Lafferty found the premises of Harkness and Glennie, a double shop-front with curtains in the window, half way along a narrow lane and facing due north. The paintwork of the premises was a respectful combination of grey and black. The door was locked but Lafferty could see that there was a light on somewhere inside. There was a brass bell on the wall. He pressed it and heard it ring. A shuffling of feet was followed by the undoing of locks and the door opened a fraction.

“Yes?” asked the unseen male voice through the crack.

“I’m Father Lafferty from St Xavier’s. I wonder if I might have a word?”

Lafferty heard a chain being undone and the door opened to reveal a small man in pinstripe trousers and shirt-sleeves. “You can’t be too careful these days, Father,” he said as he indicated that Lafferty should enter.

“I suppose not,” said Lafferty as he waited for the man to secure the door again. What was anyone going to steal from here, he wondered.

“This way,” said the man. He led the way through to the back of the premises and into a small room which had a television on in the corner. A few chairs, a small table with a teapot and a half empty milk bottle standing on it and two or three newspapers lying around suggested that this was the staff room. The man turned the television off and put his jacket on. “Now Father, what can I do for you?” he asked.

“It’s about the Keegan boy,” said Lafferty.

“A tragedy,” said the man, shaking his head. “Eighteen years old.”

“Quite so,” agreed Lafferty. “Is the lad in your Chapel of Rest?”

“No Father, he isn’t.”

“He isn’t,” repeated Lafferty, hoping the man would say more.

“He’s up at the medical school.”

“I see,” said Lafferty, hoping for more information.

“I understand he had to have some special medical equipment removed from so we delivered the coffin and the chaps up there will let us know when we can collect it.”

“So you won’t actually have anything to do with the boy’s body?” asked Lafferty.

“We’ll just collect it from the university in time for the funeral,” answered the man.

“I see,” said Lafferty. The pieces now fitted perfectly. “I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he said.