Page 90 of 36 Hours
‘It’s Jessica’s surgery today.’
Kim waited, wondering why Audra thought that was enough of an explanation for someone that didn’t work at the hospital.
Realising her mistake, the woman frowned. ‘You don’t watch the local news?’
Kim bit back the retort on her lips about being a bit busy. ‘Assume not.’
‘Jessica Styles is an eight-year-old girl in desperate need of a heart transplant. Without one she will die. A suitable match will be available at three this afternoon.’
‘Will be?’ Kim asked. Surely a donor heart was available or it wasn’t.
‘A little girl in Bristol in a coma will be removed from life support this afternoon.’
One little girl for another. One family’s despair and another one’s hope.
‘There is no expectation of the poor child making any recovery,’ Audra said, with genuine sadness. ‘She is brain dead and being kept alive only by machines. Once her family has had the chance to say their goodbyes, she will be allowed to rest in peace.’
Kim appreciated the woman’s sentiment, but in her mind was the picture of a team ready and waiting to open up the small body and harvest organs before the child was even cold.
‘We have to save the ones we can, Officer, and right now our priority is Jessica Styles. We only have a window of six hours. Surgery is booked for seven this evening. No one else can do this surgery. Only Nazeera knows the case well enough.’
‘No plan B?’ Kim asked.
The woman opened her hands. ‘Why would we need one?’
The pit in Kim’s stomach was growing.
‘Maybe she’s decided to come in late,’ Kim tried. ‘If she’s got a long day ahead of her.’
Kim wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince herself or her audience. The possibility that their sicko had taken the surgeon was too horrific to contemplate.
‘She wouldn’t,’ Audra answered. ‘Jessica was admitted at 8a.m., and Nazeera should have been there to settle her and speak with the parents. She’s known this child for three years. She would have been there, I swear. I’ve just spoken to her next of kin, her mother, who knows of no reason Nazeera would be late.’
Kim took one more look at the woman’s face before turning to the officer.
‘Break it down.’
Within minutes, he’d retrieved the big red key from his car and slammed it against the front door.
It was a latch-type lock that caved on the second attempt.
‘Wait, wait, wait, what is going on here?’ Kim heard from behind.
The heavily accented voice came from a diminutive Indian lady barrelling towards them, holding a set of keys and a phone.
‘Mrs Khan?’ Audra asked.
‘Yes. Yes. A lady called me about Nazzy.’
‘That was me,’ Audra said, stepping forward. ‘Thank you so much for?—’
‘I live up there,’ she said, pointing to the top of the road. She offered a cursory glance to everyone present. ‘Well, where is she?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out,’ Kim explained. ‘We’re not sure she’s home.’
‘I will check,’ she said, stepping towards the open doorway.
‘No, no, no,’ Kim said, blocking her path. She had no idea what they were going to find in there. Now the door had been forced, it was a police matter.