Ken McClure - Donor

Two men stood there. In the first grey light of dawn, he could see that they were dressed in surgical tunics and trousers and each had the words Bladen Clinic on the left breast of his tunic. One carried a folded stretcher, the other a black equipment box.

‘Dr Dunbar? We’ve come for your patient.’

Dunbar led them up to where Douglas was lying along the couch.

‘Is he stable enough to be moved?’

‘He’ll do. I’ve been unable to do anything apart from stem the blood flow,’ said Dunbar. ‘He had Omnopon about four hours ago and a fair amount of alcohol since for the pain. Maybe you should get some fluid into him before you move him, and if you have some proper dressings there I’ll change them.’

The attendants put up a saline drip for Douglas and Dunbar changed the dressing.

‘What the hell did this?’ asked one of the men when he saw the state of Douglas’s arm.’

‘An ape.’

‘Jesus!’

‘The clinic’s ready for him?’

The attendant nodded. ‘There’s a theatre on stand-by. Surgeon’s on his way.’

Douglas was transferred to the stretcher and Dunbar held up the saline drip bag as they worked their way downstairs, with great difficulty on the spiral turns. Mercifully, Douglas was still only semi-conscious. Dunbar took hold of his good hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘Good luck, Jimmy,’ he said as the attendants prepared to close the doors of the ambulance. Dunbar watched its lights disappear before returning to the flat to lock up. ‘What a mess,’ he whispered as he came downstairs again. ‘What a fucking mess.’

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.’