Donor (29 page)

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 Médic 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.