under a stone below the bank. He started running as fast as he dared in an effort to work up some warmth. He was still shivering all over when he finally reached the car park and saw that Jimmy’s Land-Rover was still there.
The engine rattled into life. Dunbar willed it to heat up quickly so that he might have the warmth of the heater to fight against threatening hypothermia. He crunched the vehicle into gear because the shivering of his leg made holding down the clutch pedal difficult. He bumped a little too fast over the broken surface, bouncing himself off the seat as the vehicle lurched out on to the road. He had to get to a phone box.
Although he was trying to travel as fast as he could he had the feeling of being trapped in a slow-motion world. Every gear change seemed to take for ever as the revs fell, the gears crunched and the build-up suggested he was towing a juggernaut. He resorted to staying in low gear and screaming the engine as he fought his way along the twisting country road back to town.
There was a woman dialling in the first phone box he came to. Dunbar screeched the Land-Rover to a halt beside her and got out. The mere sight of him, staggering from exhaustion, hair soaking wet and wearing medical attendant’s clothing, made the woman change her mind about the urgency of her call. She stumbled out of the box and took to her heels, looking anxiously behind her at what she obviously saw as an escapee from a lunatic asylum.
There was an awful moment when Dunbar couldn’t remember the number of the Sick Children’s Hospital but it came back to him. He then failed to dial it properly because the trembling in his hand made him hit two buttons together no fewer than three times. He took a deep breath, calmed himself and succeeded at the fourth attempt. He asked for Clive Turner, praying that he’d be there. He had no idea of time or date for that matter.
‘Dr Turner.’
‘Thank Christ,’ stammered Dunbar.
‘Who is this?’ asked Turner.
‘Clive, it’s Steven Dunbar. Has Amanda Chapman had her operation yet?’
‘Steven? Where the hell are you? What’s happened? You sound strange.’
‘Just tell me. Has Amanda had her operation yet?’
‘It was scheduled for eight this evening. Her father phoned me this morning. What’s happening? Where are you?’
Dunbar’s heart sank. ‘What time is it now?’ he asked.
‘Ten past nine. What is it? Where are you? What’s wrong?’
‘Listen! They’re deliberately giving Amanda the wrong kidney. They want her to die so they can steal her heart and give it to another patient.’
‘You can’t be serious,’ exclaimed Turner.
‘Believe me, it’s true. We’ve got to do something to save Amanda if there’s still time.’
‘What can we do? If you say they’re giving her the wrong kidney…’
‘They’ve had the matched kidney sent from Geneva. It must have arrived by now if they’re doing the operation, but they only plan to give it to Amanda after she’s dead. If we can get there in time we can see that she gets it instead of the bloody animal organ they’re giving her!’
‘I just can’t believe this is happening,’ stammered Turner.
‘Clive, just trust me. It’s true. Can you get a surgical team together and meet me in the car park at Medic Ecosse as soon as you can? I’m going to call in the cavalry.’
‘There’s only a surgical houseman and one theatre technician on duty at the moment.’
‘Do what you can. I think I can get you a theatre nurse.’
Dunbar called Lisa next.
‘Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you!’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s been two days!’
‘I’m sorry. There’s no time for explanations,’ said Dunbar. He gave her the briefest of summaries of what was happening and said, ‘They may need all the help they can get tonight. You’re an experienced theatre nurse. Will you help?’
‘Of course. What do you want me to do?’
‘Get over there as quick as you can. Meet us in the car park.’
Next Dunbar called Sci-Med in London. He had to reverse the charges. His money had run out. Luckily his call was accepted automatically.
‘This is Steven Dunbar in Glasgow. I need help urgently. Everything will have to be done from your end. Understood?’
‘Understood,’ said the duty officer. ‘But I may have to call for authorization.’
‘Do what I ask first!’ insisted Dunbar. ‘Then call anyone you like. I’ll take full responsibility. I need police back-up at the Medic Ecosse Hospital as fast as you can get them there, and some of them should be armed. They’ve not to do anything until I get there but I won’t be long. Tell them to wait outside the car park and out of sight. Okay?’
‘You’re sure about the arms?’
‘I suspect at least two of the opposition are carrying.’ Dunbar was thinking of the Arab guards on the Omega Wing. Hopefully they wouldn’t be involved but it was better to be safe than sorry.
‘Anything else?’
‘I need a couple of WPCs in the squad.’ Again, he was thinking of the Omega wing.
‘Anything else?’
‘I need a forensic pathologist to examine a kidney biopsy.’
‘We’ll ask the police. Is that it?’
‘Those are the priorities but the police might like to take a trip out to a place called Vane Farm; it’s north of Glasgow on Lomond Road. I’ve been held there for the last two days by some Arab gentlemen, one of whom might have been admitted to hospital by now with severe hand and arm injuries.’
‘I’ll pass that on. Sounds like you’re having a busy time.’
‘Just get on to it right away.’
‘Will do.’
Dunbar got back in the Land-Rover and headed for Medic Ecosse as fast as he could. He couldn’t help but imagine Amanda lying on the operating table, being ever so precisely and carefully murdered.
As he got to within a mile of the hospital he was passed by a speeding police car on a long downhill section of the road. He snatched the opportunity and put his foot to the floor to take advantage of the swathe it was cutting through traffic. This was fine going downhill and even on the following straight section once his speed had built up, but the Land-Rover wasn’t built for cornering like the police car. Every sharp turn was a white-knuckle ride on two wheels before clattering back down on to four again.
As the two vehicles screeched to a halt in the street outside the hospital car park, Dunbar allowed himself to slump forward momentarily on to the steering wheel in deference to mental exhaustion. He needed a moment to calm himself and regain composure. Both policemen from the car in front were at his doors before he knew it.
‘What the hell d’you think you were doing back there?’ demanded one. ‘Bloody idiot! Get out the vehicle.’
‘I’m Steven Dunbar,’ replied Dunbar. ‘You’re here to assist me.’
The two men exchanged uncertain glances and looked at Dunbar’s appearance and clothing with some suspicion.
‘Get me whoever’s in charge,’ snapped Dunbar, putting an end to their uncertainty. ‘Now!’
He saw Clive Turner and Lisa coming to meet him. They were joined, before they reached him, by a police superintendent.
‘Look at the state of you,’ said Lisa putting her arms round him.
‘You look all in,’ said Turner.
‘Dr Dunbar? I’m Superintendent Renton. What is it you want us to do?’
‘There’s a transplant operation going on in there. We’re going to interrupt it. They’re murdering the patient, not curing her. I’d like you to escort us wherever we go and generally smooth the way.’
‘What opposition can we expect?’ asked Remton.
Dunbar told him about the Arab guards on the Omega wing and that he suspected they might be armed.
‘We’ll deal with them first. Just tell us where to find them.’
Lisa told the policeman where the Omega wing was, while Dunbar asked Clive Turner how many people he’d
