approval.
When she returned, she said, ‘The wheels are fifty-four centimetres apart. That’s two more than thetracks in the field by the bodies. So that’s that. Our guy didn’t use a gurney from here.’
‘Not if they’re all the same.’
‘I bet they are – so they all fit the equipment in the ambulance and inside the hospital. I’m after some other type of cart. It might not have anything to do with health and hospitals. The transplant trade isn’t the only explanation for our dead bodies.’
Troy hadn’t forgotten that a peculiar and cruel operation might lie behind the death of the female major with an outer heart. But he couldn’t make sense of it. He understood the need for transplants. He could even believe that mistakes might happen. But he couldn’t work out the motive behind a deliberate biological mix-up. ‘Why would anyone put outer organs in majors? Or the other way round?’
Lexi shivered violently. ‘Maybe it was an experiment to make a sort of outer-major hybrid.’
‘What?’ Troy exclaimed.
‘I know. It’s not natural. It’s … No. Horrible thought.’
Troy shook his head, dismissing the idea. ‘Are you done here?’
‘For now,’ she answered. ‘Let’s go and leave the cameras to do their job.’
As they walked towards the car, Crime Central’sTravel Section called Troy. ‘The man you’re after, his name is Dylan Farthing and he’s on his way home.’
‘Which is … where?’
‘Shepford third quarter. Fifteen Ennis Street.’
‘Great. Thanks.’
In the car, Troy said, ‘Fifteen Ennis Street, Shepford,’ and the onboard computer took control of the journey.
Lexi shook her head. ‘You’re going after him, why? Because he looks shady?’
‘Because I’m curious. And he’s got the muscles you’d need to lug dead bodies around.’
‘I’ll get the handcuffs ready – in case we come across any other body-builders,’ said Lexi. ‘They’re into killing people and mutilating their bodies.’
Ignoring her sarcasm, Troy replied, ‘You can check his shoe size.’
SCENE 12
Wednesday 9th April, Late afternoon
Ennis Street looked familiar. Troy had probably never been there, but it was the standard design for Shepford’s third quarter. The neat detached houses were a uniform light brown colour, built from the same local stone. They were all similarly sized boxes, two storeys high with tiled roofs that sloped from left to right. Each had a small front garden and a larger one at the rear.
Troy pushed the doorbell at number fifteen. After a few seconds, the smart and sturdy man appeared in front of him. This time there was no cap, but he waswearing tinted spectacles that also seemed out of place. ‘Yes?’ he said, glancing at the life-loggers attached to his visitors’ waists.
Troy asked, ‘Are you Dylan Farthing?’
‘That’s me.’
‘Good. Detectives Troy Goodhart and Lexi Four. We’ve got a few questions for you. Can we come in?’
Dylan stood to one side of the hall, next to a small table. ‘What’s this about?’
As they walked into the plain, spotless living room, Troy replied, ‘We’re looking into some events near the Rural Retreat Transplant Clinic – and we know you go there. We wondered if you’d seen anything useful to our investigation.’
With cropped fair hair instead of a baseball cap, he looked very different. ‘Like what?’
‘Well, first, perhaps I’d better ask why you go to the clinic.’
Dylan sighed. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘Not to me,’ said Troy. ‘Sorry.’
He touched his dark glasses. ‘Why do you think I wear these? Why do I need a stupid cap outside? Why go to the clinic? I’ve just had a cornea transplant in my left eye and I have to protect it from sunlight.’
‘Right. But as you went to and from the clinic, did you see …?’
‘I saw hardly anything. That’s why I needed the operation.’
Troy expected Lexi to be sneering at him but, when he glanced at her, she wasn’t. She was
When she returned, she said, ‘The wheels are fifty-four centimetres apart. That’s two more than thetracks in the field by the bodies. So that’s that. Our guy didn’t use a gurney from here.’
‘Not if they’re all the same.’
‘I bet they are – so they all fit the equipment in the ambulance and inside the hospital. I’m after some other type of cart. It might not have anything to do with health and hospitals. The transplant trade isn’t the only explanation for our dead bodies.’
Troy hadn’t forgotten that a peculiar and cruel operation might lie behind the death of the female major with an outer heart. But he couldn’t make sense of it. He understood the need for transplants. He could even believe that mistakes might happen. But he couldn’t work out the motive behind a deliberate biological mix-up. ‘Why would anyone put outer organs in majors? Or the other way round?’
Lexi shivered violently. ‘Maybe it was an experiment to make a sort of outer-major hybrid.’
‘What?’ Troy exclaimed.
‘I know. It’s not natural. It’s … No. Horrible thought.’
Troy shook his head, dismissing the idea. ‘Are you done here?’
‘For now,’ she answered. ‘Let’s go and leave the cameras to do their job.’
As they walked towards the car, Crime Central’sTravel Section called Troy. ‘The man you’re after, his name is Dylan Farthing and he’s on his way home.’
‘Which is … where?’
‘Shepford third quarter. Fifteen Ennis Street.’
‘Great. Thanks.’
In the car, Troy said, ‘Fifteen Ennis Street, Shepford,’ and the onboard computer took control of the journey.
Lexi shook her head. ‘You’re going after him, why? Because he looks shady?’
‘Because I’m curious. And he’s got the muscles you’d need to lug dead bodies around.’
‘I’ll get the handcuffs ready – in case we come across any other body-builders,’ said Lexi. ‘They’re into killing people and mutilating their bodies.’
Ignoring her sarcasm, Troy replied, ‘You can check his shoe size.’
SCENE 12
Wednesday 9th April, Late afternoon
Ennis Street looked familiar. Troy had probably never been there, but it was the standard design for Shepford’s third quarter. The neat detached houses were a uniform light brown colour, built from the same local stone. They were all similarly sized boxes, two storeys high with tiled roofs that sloped from left to right. Each had a small front garden and a larger one at the rear.
Troy pushed the doorbell at number fifteen. After a few seconds, the smart and sturdy man appeared in front of him. This time there was no cap, but he waswearing tinted spectacles that also seemed out of place. ‘Yes?’ he said, glancing at the life-loggers attached to his visitors’ waists.
Troy asked, ‘Are you Dylan Farthing?’
‘That’s me.’
‘Good. Detectives Troy Goodhart and Lexi Four. We’ve got a few questions for you. Can we come in?’
Dylan stood to one side of the hall, next to a small table. ‘What’s this about?’
As they walked into the plain, spotless living room, Troy replied, ‘We’re looking into some events near the Rural Retreat Transplant Clinic – and we know you go there. We wondered if you’d seen anything useful to our investigation.’
With cropped fair hair instead of a baseball cap, he looked very different. ‘Like what?’
‘Well, first, perhaps I’d better ask why you go to the clinic.’
Dylan sighed. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘Not to me,’ said Troy. ‘Sorry.’
He touched his dark glasses. ‘Why do you think I wear these? Why do I need a stupid cap outside? Why go to the clinic? I’ve just had a cornea transplant in my left eye and I have to protect it from sunlight.’
‘Right. But as you went to and from the clinic, did you see …?’
‘I saw hardly anything. That’s why I needed the operation.’
Troy expected Lexi to be sneering at him but, when he glanced at her, she wasn’t. She was
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