Chris Simms - Shifting Skin

Jon smiled. ‘A bit of a skirt-chaser, then?’

The porter nodded. ‘Oh aye. I don’t believe in bragging about your love life. But then I’ve been married for forty years, so I don’t have one.’ He laughed at his own joke. ‘Bachelors like him? I suppose it’s different.’

Jon thought about Gray’s record of violence against his first wife. ‘So he’s never given marriage a go?’

‘Pete? No. Says he’s not the marrying kind. Not his thing.’ Jon flicked a glance at Rick walking just a pace behind. ‘Are there many ladies he talks about?’

‘If you believe everything he says, he’s had more than I’ve had hot dinners. It’s those singles’ nights he goes to around Manchester. Always a new story to share with us on a Monday morning.’

‘He never mentions regular girlfriends?’

‘Too busy having fun for that, according to him. Not that I believe he’s truly happy. Still sowing your wild oats at forty odd? There’s only one hole he’s filling at weekends, and that’s the great big one in his life.’

By now they’d reached the doors to the surgical ward. Jon held them open and the porter wheeled the delivery through.

‘No Pete today?’ asked the woman behind the reception desk.

‘Day off.’ He pointed at the boxes. ‘They’re only light things. Shall I leave them here?’

‘That’s fine,’ she replied, coming round the counter.

Jon helped him lift them off the trolley. As the porter made for the doors Jon said, ‘Thanks for your help.’

‘You’re finished with me, then? Rightio.’ The door swung shut.

Jon produced his warrant card and showed it to the receptionist. ‘DI Jon Spicer. Could I ask you a question or two?’

‘Yes?’

‘It’s about Pete Gray who you just mentioned.’

‘Pete?’ She looked amused, but her voice held a note of caution. ‘Has he done something wrong?’

‘Nothing like that,’ Jon assured her. ‘The other porter mentioned he has quite an interest in the surgical ward.’

‘Oh, does he! You need to speak to Mr Anderson. He’s let Pete observe him in the theatre once or twice.’ Suddenly she looked concerned. ‘That’s not illegal, is it?’

‘Not as far as I’m concerned.’ She smiled with relief.

‘Is Dr Anderson in today?’ Jon asked.

‘Mr Anderson,’ she corrected him. ‘You call consultant surgeons “Mister”. Yes. He’s performing a laparotomy. Very busy.’

‘Could you find out if he’d object to me asking him one or two questions?’

‘What, now?’

‘It’s extremely important.’

Ten minutes later, Jon was standing at the end of an operating table, wearing green overalls, a facemask and surgical goggles. While a young man held apart flaps of flesh with retractors, the surgeon was delving around in someone’s stomach. Blood was being sucked away down a tube with the same sound as a child finishing a drink through a straw.

The surgeon turned to the scrub nurse. ‘Number fifteen scalpel, please, Ruth.’

She handed it to him and he leaned forward to slice something within the wound. The vicious-looking scalpel was dropped with a metallic clink into a stainless-steel kidney tray and he straightened up. ‘Pete Gray? Harmless enough fellow. Approached me in the canteen one time. Bit of an odd request, but whoever’s fault it was he left school so poorly qualified isn’t my concern. I was just pleased to see the fellow taking an interest. Yes, he’s sat in on quite a few operations, even borrowed a few of my anatomy books.’ His eyes narrowed above his facemask. ‘Still got my Gray’s Anatomy . Must remember to ask him for that back.’

‘And what sort of operations has he observed you performing?’

‘Oh, removing bowel cancers, mainly. Clearing blockages in lower intestines. Couple of abscesses, too.’ He picked the scalpel up and began cutting again.

‘Does he ask questions?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Regarding surgical techniques. How you make incisions, that sort of thing.’

‘Yes. Lots. In fact, it was usually easier for me to give a running commentary.’

Jon had heard enough. ‘Thanks very much for your help.’

As soon as he was out of the operating theatre, he yanked off the surgical clothing.

‘Well?’ said Rick expectantly, as Jon entered the reception area.

He kept his voice down and tried to keep the flow of words under control. ‘He’s been in there watching all sorts of stuff. Observing the surgeon as he opened people up, asking questions about how he does it, borrowing books on anatomy.’

‘Jesus Christ.’

‘Now do you believe me?’

Rick coloured slightly. ‘Yeah, I think you could be right.’

‘Come on, let’s get round to his house.’ Jon set off towards the double doors.

‘What about the boss?’ Rick called after him.

Jon fished out his mobile phone. ‘DCI McCloughlin please. It’s DI Spicer.’

A moment later McCloughlin came on the line. ‘Got some interesting news for me, Spicer?’

‘Yes, I have, sir. Very interesting. Pete Gray has been sitting in on operations at Stepping Hill hospital, watching the surgeon perform. Only observing, but he’s also borrowed books on anatomy.’

‘What the hell are you doing there? I instructed you to go through the CCTV footage from Piccadilly station.’

Jon shot a guilty glance at Rick. ‘We’ve been through them all sir. DS Saville and I split the tapes. Went at them most of the night and all this morning. Not a thing sir, no. I think it was a ruse. The car was parked there to make it appear Gordon Dean had fled.’

‘So where is this prostitute? We need to trace her.’

‘Rick and I believe the prostitute is still in the area. I’m sure, given time, we’ll find her. But as regards Pete Gray, I think it’s imperative we talk to him and request a DNA swab to eliminate him from the enquiry.’

‘And don’t tell me, you just happen to have a chance of speaking to him now?’

‘As it happens, we have, yes. We’re about ten minutes from his house.’

‘A chat, Spicer. And a polite request for a swab. No more, do you understand?’

‘Absolutely. Thank you, sir. We’ll keep you informed.’ He snapped the phone shut, looking relieved. ‘We’ve got the goahead.’

As they walked up the short drive Jon pointed out the stickers on the rear window of Pete Gray’s van, Shaggin’ Wagon and If it’s a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’ .

Rick raised his eyebrows. ‘Classy.’

Jon pressed the doorbell and stepped back. They heard the jangle of keys a few moments later and the door swung open.

Pete Gray looked out at them. His hair was messed up, great greasy strands of it hanging down over his face. Nervously, he swept it back over his head.

‘Mr Gray, DI Spicer and DS Saville. We spoke to you-’

‘Yeah, I remember. What do you want?’

‘Could we come in for a quick word?’ Jon took a step towards the open door.

Gray shifted back and glanced over his shoulder into the house. ‘Er, can you call later?’

‘It really won’t take long.’

Gray rubbed his unshaven jaw with the knuckles of one hand.

‘It’s not a good time.’

‘As I said, we’ll be out of your hair in two ticks.’ Jon placed a hand against the door frame.

He glanced at it. ‘Are you arresting me?’

‘Why would we do that?’

‘I don’t know.’ His eyes shifted to Jon’s hand for a second time. ‘OK, come through to the kitchen.’

The kitchen was at the end of a short corridor directly ahead. Before that were two doors, one on each side. Jon knew the one on the right led into the TV room, its shelves stacked with books. Pete Gray pulled the one to his left shut as he walked down the corridor.