Ken McClure - Donor

The lift doors slid back and three people got out, a man in pristine white Arab clothes and two others whom Dunbar recognized as the driver and bodyguard he’d seen getting out the limo earlier. Ingrid smiled and said something to them in Arabic. She sounded fluent.

‘I’m impressed,’ said Dunbar as they got into the lift and the doors slid shut.

‘Omega patients expect no less,’ Ingrid replied.

As they stepped out into the reception area for the transplant unit, Ingrid said, ‘I’ll have to check with Dr Ross first to see if it’s all right to show you round.’

Dunbar nodded.

Ingrid leaned over the reception desk and asked the nurse sitting there if she would tell Dr Ross they were here. The woman smiled, nodded and picked up a telephone. Ross appeared in the foyer a few moments later. He acknowledged Ingrid with a nod, then turned to Dunbar, stretching out his hand. ‘Big Brother is watching us,’ he said with a smile.

‘It’s not that bad,’ smiled Dunbar in reply. ‘As long as you’re not carrying out operations for nothing.’

‘As a matter of fact we will be tomorrow,’ said Ross conspiratorially. ‘One of my colleagues is carrying out facial reconstruction work on one of the NHS patients we agreed to take on for free as part of the funding agreement.’

‘A laudable exception,’ said Dunbar. ‘Actually, I was rather hoping I might be able to see round your unit? Meet the staff?’

‘Of course,’ replied Ross. ‘That is, the bits that are empty. Ingrid has probably told you that patient privacy is paramount.’

‘It’s what I keep hearing,’ agreed Dunbar.

‘The plain truth is that many of our clients don’t want anyone even to know they’re in hospital, let alone what they’re having done. And if they pay the piper…’

‘They call the tune.’

‘You can see the transplant theatres, of course, and one of the intensive-care suites for post-operative use. The individual rooms are pretty standard throughout the hospital.’

‘Even for Omega patients?’ asked Dunbar.

Ross exchanged an uncertain glance with Ingrid before smiling and saying, ‘Perhaps a few more little goodies for them.’

There were smiles all round. Ross said, ‘Come and meet the staff.’ He led the way to a room where a man dressed in surgical greens was standing in front of a blackboard addressing several medical and nursing colleagues. He paused as the newcomers entered but Ross indicated that he should continue and ushered Dunbar and Ingrid to seats at the side of the room.

‘Staff briefing,’ he whispered. ‘We have one every morning. I’ll let John finish.’

Dunbar nodded and listened with interest to the briefing. There were seven patients in the unit. The current condition of each was discussed in turn and staff were asked for any observations they might have. Updates were made to all their charts and all staff were made aware of plans for each patient for the day. Again, Dunbar was impressed. This was a well-run unit.

‘Any questions?’ asked the man Ross had called John. There were none.

Ross stood up and said, ‘Just before you go everyone, I’d like you to meet Dr Steven Dunbar. He’s been assigned to the hospital by the Scottish Office to keep an eye on us, but he tells me he’s not such a monster once you get to know him.’

There was polite laughter. Dunbar saw that Ross was popular with his staff. He was introduced to each member of staff in turn, starting with the theatre sister, Trudy Sinclair, and ending with John Hatfull, who had been giving the briefing.

‘John is my surgical registrar,’ explained Ross. ‘Also my right-hand man.’

Hatfull was slightly shorter than Ross, brown-haired and hazel-eyed. He had an air of intensity that Dunbar often associated with highly intelligent people. It was as if they radiated energy. It was hard to imagine them relaxing. He shook hands with Hatfull.

‘Did I hear James say you were a doctor yourself?’ Hatfull asked.

Dunbar nodded.

‘What speciality?’

‘Field medicine,’ Dunbar replied.

Hatfull looked surprised then amused. ‘From field medicine to accountancy? Quite a change. I suppose you were looking for more excitement.’

The others laughed. Dunbar smiled dutifully, but offered no explanation. He didn’t want anyone thinking too much about the unlikelihood of such a switch.

‘Well,’ said Ross, ‘I’ll show you round. Or maybe you’d care to do that, John, if you have the time?’

‘My pleasure,’ replied Hatfull. ‘Anything in particular you’d like to see?’

‘Anything and everything,’ said Dunbar. ‘I just need to get a general feel for the unit. I need to relate its size and facilities to the figures I see on the balance sheets.’

‘Of course.’

As they started the tour Dunbar sensed that Hatfull was on his guard. He thought he’d try a little flattery to see if he could soften him up. ‘Dr Ross seems to rely on you a lot.’

‘He’s a very busy man,’ replied Hatfull.

‘Of course,’ said Dunbar. ‘He has research interests too. Are you involved at all in that?’

‘No, I’m just a work-horse. I leave research to the clever people.’

‘As a transplant surgeon in this unit, you’re not exactly among the intellectually challenged of the world,’ countered Dunbar with a smile.

‘One does what one can.’

‘The withdrawal of research funding must have been quite a blow to Dr Ross?’

‘Must have been.’

Dunbar didn’t ask any more. He accepted he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Hatfull.

The tour of the transplant unit took about thirty minutes, including the time taken by Hatfull to answer questions as monosyllabically as possible. Dunbar reverted to asking the kind of questions he thought he should be asking. They related to length of patients’ stay in the unit, numbers of staff involved in preoperative and post-operative care, in fact, anything he thought an accountant might be interested in. He made notes in a small leather-bound book he took from his inside pocket. There was very little to ask about the equipment and accommodation. The facilities were simply the best. When he’d asked everything he thought he should, they were re-joined by Ross, who asked if he’d enjoyed his tour.

‘Very interesting,’ replied Dunbar. He thought he’d risk trying a different tack and asked, ‘What actually happens when you hear that an organ has become available for one of your patients, Doctor?’

‘Quite a lot,’ smiled Ross. ‘And all at the same time! The procedure usually starts with a computer alert that a matching organ is available. We first double-check that this is the case and then contact the hospital or clinic holding the organ to establish personal contact and agree terms of transfer. A lot depends on where the donor organ is and how long it’s going to take to get here. At the same time, we alert our patient to the possibility of an operation and arrange for him or her to be admitted if they aren’t already in hospital. The operating teams are put on stand-by, round the clock if necessary. Time is always of the essence where live tissue is concerned.’

‘Of course.’

‘Apart from the actual theatre teams, we also need lab support and a supply of blood from the transfusion service available at exactly the right time. A lot of people are involved in a successful transplant. It’s a team effort and there are so many things that can go wrong. A flight gets delayed, a traffic jam, a driver takes the wrong turning. So many things, so many links in the chain, and all of them important.’

Dunbar nodded and pushed his luck. ‘And do they?’ he asked.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Do they go wrong?’

‘Very rarely,’ said Ross with a smile and a touch-wood gesture. ‘There have been a few close calls as regards time but we’ve always managed to get the job done.’