Marcus, do you?’
‘Why not?’ Sam replied. ‘You asked me to think of someone who might hold a grudge against me. The caller mentioned Cathy’s murder, there was the newspaper article in your locker. And when you add in the fact that all of this has only started happening since he’s been released from jail. Then that note from him, hand-delivered. How does he know where I live?’
Louisa shrugged.
‘You don’t think it could be him?’
‘I can’t see it Sam,’ Louisa admitted. ‘It just doesn’t make sense to me. Why would he write to you, saying he’s innocent and wanting to meet you, but at the same time doing all this?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe he’s playing some kind of twisted game, wanting to stick the knife in some more.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘I don’t know what to believe,’ he said. ‘But it’s a possibility, isn’t it?’
‘I guess so. But you said it wasn’t his voice.’
‘Maybe he disguised it.’
‘Are you going to tell the police?’
‘Not yet,’ Sam said. ‘What would I tell them? I’ve got no evidence that Marcus is involved.’
‘That’s right,’ Louisa agreed.
‘And then there’s still Richard Friedman.’
‘I still feel bad, you know, about dropping him as a client.’
‘It’s for the best.’
‘I know it is, but still...’
‘Even if he didn’t steal your phone, and he isn’t the one calling me, he still crossed the line in a big way.’
‘You’re right,’ Louisa admitted.
‘Maybe this will put an end to it.’
‘I hope so. You were right, Sam, it was getting out of hand. Something had to be done. Sometimes I just don’t know when to let go of something, admit defeat. I really appreciate your support.’
‘No problem.’
‘So what are you up to today?’
‘Not much,’ Sam said. ‘I’m off to see Prof Khan in a minute, and then I’ll check up on how Sophie’s doing. Not sure what I’ll do for the rest of the day.’
‘So you’re still off your list?’
‘Sure am.’
‘It will be good to have a break,’ Louisa said. ‘Professor Khan knows what he’s doing.’
‘Maybe. You know me though; I like being busy, especially with Anna being away.’
‘I know. But it’s only for a day or so.’
‘I know. And at least the press interest has died out. Carla left a message for me. There’ve been a few articles in this morning’s papers based on the press release, but no-one has contacted the hospital today.’
‘That’s great, Sam. You’re yesterday’s news.’
She smiled and Sam smiled back.
‘Sam, my boy, do come in.’
Sam entered Professor Adil Khan’s office. The room was an oasis of calm in the hectic world of the hospital. It reminded Sam of the rooms of the Colonial Empire that he’d seen in films – deep brown, ornate mahogany furniture, carved wooden lamps, and decorative rugs. Professor Khan had brought all the furniture himself, flown over from Pakistan on his appointment eighteen years ago. It wasn’t hospital policy to allow such a thing, but for one of the world’s leading surgeons, the request met no resistance. The room was also a temple to arguably Adil Khan’s greatest love – cricket. He’d combined his medical training with a passion for the sport. A gifted batsman, he had represented the national side at under twenty-one level, before suffering a serious leg injury following a car accident. Damage to the tendons in his left leg put paid to his cricket career, but left him free to focus his energy and passion into medicine.
‘Do sit down,’ he said, gesturing to the impressive carved wooden chair. As ever, his jet black hair and beard was neatly trimmed, his styling immaculate around his broad physique. His suits were made to measure by his good friend and personal tailor in Islamabad. Why pay for Savile Row when you could have the best, he would say. ‘You like it?’ he said, noticing that Sam had spotted a new addition to the wall behind his desk – a
‘Why not?’ Sam replied. ‘You asked me to think of someone who might hold a grudge against me. The caller mentioned Cathy’s murder, there was the newspaper article in your locker. And when you add in the fact that all of this has only started happening since he’s been released from jail. Then that note from him, hand-delivered. How does he know where I live?’
Louisa shrugged.
‘You don’t think it could be him?’
‘I can’t see it Sam,’ Louisa admitted. ‘It just doesn’t make sense to me. Why would he write to you, saying he’s innocent and wanting to meet you, but at the same time doing all this?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe he’s playing some kind of twisted game, wanting to stick the knife in some more.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘I don’t know what to believe,’ he said. ‘But it’s a possibility, isn’t it?’
‘I guess so. But you said it wasn’t his voice.’
‘Maybe he disguised it.’
‘Are you going to tell the police?’
‘Not yet,’ Sam said. ‘What would I tell them? I’ve got no evidence that Marcus is involved.’
‘That’s right,’ Louisa agreed.
‘And then there’s still Richard Friedman.’
‘I still feel bad, you know, about dropping him as a client.’
‘It’s for the best.’
‘I know it is, but still...’
‘Even if he didn’t steal your phone, and he isn’t the one calling me, he still crossed the line in a big way.’
‘You’re right,’ Louisa admitted.
‘Maybe this will put an end to it.’
‘I hope so. You were right, Sam, it was getting out of hand. Something had to be done. Sometimes I just don’t know when to let go of something, admit defeat. I really appreciate your support.’
‘No problem.’
‘So what are you up to today?’
‘Not much,’ Sam said. ‘I’m off to see Prof Khan in a minute, and then I’ll check up on how Sophie’s doing. Not sure what I’ll do for the rest of the day.’
‘So you’re still off your list?’
‘Sure am.’
‘It will be good to have a break,’ Louisa said. ‘Professor Khan knows what he’s doing.’
‘Maybe. You know me though; I like being busy, especially with Anna being away.’
‘I know. But it’s only for a day or so.’
‘I know. And at least the press interest has died out. Carla left a message for me. There’ve been a few articles in this morning’s papers based on the press release, but no-one has contacted the hospital today.’
‘That’s great, Sam. You’re yesterday’s news.’
She smiled and Sam smiled back.
‘Sam, my boy, do come in.’
Sam entered Professor Adil Khan’s office. The room was an oasis of calm in the hectic world of the hospital. It reminded Sam of the rooms of the Colonial Empire that he’d seen in films – deep brown, ornate mahogany furniture, carved wooden lamps, and decorative rugs. Professor Khan had brought all the furniture himself, flown over from Pakistan on his appointment eighteen years ago. It wasn’t hospital policy to allow such a thing, but for one of the world’s leading surgeons, the request met no resistance. The room was also a temple to arguably Adil Khan’s greatest love – cricket. He’d combined his medical training with a passion for the sport. A gifted batsman, he had represented the national side at under twenty-one level, before suffering a serious leg injury following a car accident. Damage to the tendons in his left leg put paid to his cricket career, but left him free to focus his energy and passion into medicine.
‘Do sit down,’ he said, gesturing to the impressive carved wooden chair. As ever, his jet black hair and beard was neatly trimmed, his styling immaculate around his broad physique. His suits were made to measure by his good friend and personal tailor in Islamabad. Why pay for Savile Row when you could have the best, he would say. ‘You like it?’ he said, noticing that Sam had spotted a new addition to the wall behind his desk – a
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