matter because we know we're telling each other lies . . .
Anyway, that's enough about that. ' (Turner looked down at her folder.) ' I
see you've got Mr David Mackenzie on your list next Monday. I'll sit in with
you on him. I think he did once tell me his date of birth correctly, but he
makes everything else up as he goes along. You'll enjoy him! '
Again Sarah said nothing. And she was preparing to leave when Turner changed
the subject abruptly, and in an un- expected direction.
Or was it unexpected?
'I couldn't help seeing the articles in the newspapers . . . and the
department was talking about them.'
Sarah nodded.
'Would it mean a lot to you if they found who murdered your mother?'
'What do you think?' The tone of her voice bordered almost on the insolent,
but Turner interpreted her reply tolerantly, for it was (he knew) hardly the
most intelligent question he'd ever formulated.
'Let's just wish them better luck,' he said.
'Better brains, too!'
'Perhaps they'll put Morse on to it this time.'
Sarah's eyes locked steadily on his.
'Morse?'
'You don't know him?'
'No.'
'Heard of him, perhaps?' Turner's eyes grew suddenly shrewd on hers, and she
hesitated before answering: 'Didn't my mother mention she'd nursed him
somewhere?'
'Would you like to meet him, next time he comes in?'
'Pardon?'
'You didn't know he was diabetic?'
'We've got an awful lot of diabetics here.'
31
'Not too many like him, thank the Lord! Four hefty injections a day,
and he informs me that he's devised a carefully calibrated dosage that
exactly counterbalances his consider- able daily intake of alcohol. And when
I say considerable . . . Quite a dab hand, too, is Morse, at extrapolating
his blood- sugar readings backwards!'
'Isn't he worried about .. . about what he's doing to himself?'
'Why not ask him? I'll put him on your list.'
'Only if you promise to come along to monitor me.'
'With you around? Oh, no! Morse wouldn't like that.'
'How old is he?'
'Too old for you.'
'Single.'
'Gracious, yes! Far too independent a spirit for marriage . ..
Anyway, have a good weekend! Anything exciting on? '
'Important, perhaps, rather than exciting. We've got a meeting up at Hook
Norton tomorrow at the Pear Tree Inn. We're organizing another Countryside
March.'
'That's the ' rural pursuits' thing, isn't it? Fox-hunting ' ' Among other
things. '
'The ' toffs and the serfs'.'
Sarah shook her head with annoyance.
'That's just the sort of comment we get from the urban chattering- classes!'
'Sorry!' Turner held up his right hand in surrender.
'You're quite right. I know next to nothing about fox-hunting, and I'm sure
there must be things to be said in favour of it. But please! don't go and
tell Morse about them. We just happened to be talking about fox-hundng the
last time he was here it was in the news and I can't help remembering what he
said.'
'Which was?' she asked coldly.
'First, he said he'd never thought much of the argument that the fox enjoys
being chased and being pulled to little pieces by the hounds.'
'Does he think the chickens enjoy being pulled to little pieces by the fox?'
'Second, that the sort of people who hunt do considerably more harm to
themselves than they do to the animals they hunt. He said they run a big
risk of brutalizing themselves . . . dehumanizing themselves.'
The two of them, master and pupil, looked at each other over the desk for an
awkward while; and the Professor of Diabetes Studies thought he may have seen
a flash of some- thing approaching fury in the dark-brown eyes of his
probationary consultant.
It was the latter who spoke first: 'Mind if I say something?'
'Of course not.'
'I'm surprised, that's all. I fully, almost fully, accept your criticisms of
my professional manner and my strategy with patients.
But from what you've just said you sometimes seem to talk to your patients
about other things than diabetes. '
'Touche.'
'But you're right .. . Robert. I've been getting too chatty, I realize
that. And I promise that when I see Mr Morse I'll try very hard, as you
suggest, to inst il some sort of disciplined regimen into his daily life.'
Turner said nothing in reply. It was a good thing for her to have the last
word: she'd feel so much better when she came to think back on the interview.
As she would, he knew that. Many times. But he allowed himself a few
quietly spoken words after the door had closed behind her: 'Oh Lady in Pink
