Authors: Fiona McIntosh
‘A skin graft?’
‘Yes. Although increasingly what people want is someone else’s skin. They don’t want to lose their own.’
Kate felt a twitch of excitement. She felt herself edging closer to the surgeon, as if not to miss a word.
‘Shall we take our morning coffee?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘How does using other people’s skin work?’
‘Badly. Cadavers present all manner of problems, not the least of which is rejection. But there’s a host of problems associated with using other people’s skin.’
‘But it’s the way of the future?’
‘No, I think donations from living donors will be the likely pathway. In the same way that a person may donate their organs, I think their skin will become routinely donated too — but we’re still a way off that.’
‘Why the delay?’
He gave a sheepish shrug. ‘People like to believe their body is buried or cremated seemingly whole. At least the outside looks as whole as can be, even if most of their internal organs have been harvested. Removing the skin just sounds too barbaric and yet …’
‘It sounds logical to me,’ Kate commented. ‘If I had agreed to donate my heart and lungs, I’d happily donate my skin too.’
He nodded. ‘Except you are in the minority. Brave parents will donate their brain-dead children’s eyes, ears, livers, lungs, hearts, kidneys … but mention their child’s skin and watch them recoil with horror. As I say, we’ll get there, but we’re still some years off. Perhaps another decade.’
‘Sad. Oh, we’re back in reception.’
He smiled and she glimpsed perfect teeth against his perfect light tan that gave the impression he played year-round tennis. ‘Yes, we’ve walked full circle. What I thought I’d do is take you down for a coffee and then afterwards you might want to take a look around on your own. You might want to talk with some of the staff without me hovering behind you. Feel free to go anywhere in the clinic, other than where surgical procedures are under way, or into private guest rooms, of course.’
She was surprised. ‘Thank you. That’s good of you.’
‘Don’t mention it. We want to assist.’ He helped her on with her coat. ‘Follow me.’
They made small talk for the short stroll across the lawns, mainly about the park-like atmosphere and the two grand heritage trees.
Maartens did most of the talking. ‘That’s a Cedar of Lebanon, more than 250 years old, and that one’s a
truly stunning magnolia grandiflora that I believe was planted in the late 1800s. Hard to imagine, isn’t it?’
‘Takes my breath away.’
‘I wish you could see the magnolia in flower. It really is breathtaking, but that occurs in late spring. You’ll have to come back, Kate.’ She smiled, realising she enjoyed his easy company. ‘You should take a walk around the lake later. It’s at its best on a crisp, dry day like today,’ he continued, opening the door to an elegant glass building.
‘Ah, the Orangerie,’ she said, as the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans took her in its grip and made her want a latte very badly.
‘It’s quiet today, probably too cold for our residents. Please,’ he said, pointing to a table by the window.
She sat down and a waitress was at their side within a moment, smiling widely at the doctor. ‘Hello Dr Maartens.’
‘Hello Sharon. Your hair looks nice today, up like that.’ The girl smiled shyly, touching her hair briefly. ‘What can we offer you?’ he said, turning to Kate.
‘A latte would be lovely,’ she said, unwrapping her scarf again.
‘Make that two,’ he said to Sharon. ‘And perhaps a slice of the bee-sting cake?’
‘Good choice, they were dusted with icing sugar just a few minutes ago.’
‘Excellent.’ He turned back to Kate as Sharon left. ‘I know you probably don’t want any cake, but you must try a slice. It won’t hurt your lovely figure, I promise. You’ll probably run it off by this evening anyway. Do you train?’
She laughed at his direct manner. ‘I do. I prefer
the gym to running around the streets. London’s far too dangerous.’
‘You’re right. Where do you live?’
‘Stoke Newington.’
‘Oh, which part? My sister lives in Stoke Newington. She’s in Wright Road,’ he said.
Kate demurred. ‘We’re practically neighbours,’ was all she said, and he seemed to take the hint.
‘I prefer to live out of central London and thus condemn myself to commuting.’ He gave a look of mock horror. ‘I’m just off Hadley Common.’
‘Very nice. Anywhere near the footballers and their WAGs?’
He winced. ‘There
are
some extremely tacky places at the bottom end — the nouveau riche area, we call it.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s all older money up around the common and into the village proper. Frankly, I have little to do with either demographic.’
‘Too busy?’
He sighed. ‘Normally too tired. I go home to escape so the last thing I want is to be having barbecues with the neighbours.’
‘Not an entertainer, then?’
‘I have my moments.’
It was time to learn more about him. ‘Anyone special in your life, Charles?’
Maartens looked out the window momentarily and then returned his gaze to her. There was amusement in it, but Kate got the impression he was considering his answer. ‘Are you offering?’ he finally said.
She sat back, surprised. That was not the response she had anticipated, yet she realised she shouldn’t be shocked. He was charming, flirtatious, handsome and very direct. Why wouldn’t he say exactly what he
had when she’d asked him such a leading question. She felt herself blushing as the noise began of Sharon heating and frothing the milk.
He didn’t prolong her suffering. ‘I’m sure there’s some protocol I’m stomping all over but if it’s permitted, I’d really enjoy the opportunity to take you out to the theatre perhaps, and dinner afterwards. Would your history-buff boss resent that?’
She tried to answer with the same candour with which he’d posed his question. ‘Not from a personal perspective,’ she said, deftly schooling her expression to disguise the sadness that admission prompted. ‘But in his capacity as DCI he might consider it unprofessional of me during the case.’
He steepled his strong, shapely hands. She was ashamed of herself for noticing them. Last night she’d begun to think about the potential of Geoff Benson; now it was Charles Maartens.
What was wrong with her
?
‘Well, perhaps when this ugly business is done, you’ll let me treat you to a wonderful night out.’
She smiled, inwardly berating herself for another flush of colour she was sure was tingeing her cheeks. ‘Charles, I’m here on police business. This conversation is leading down inappropriate pathways.’
He laughed. ‘You didn’t say no, so I’ll take that as a yes. I’m a patient man.’ Their coffee arrived and Maartens turned his charm back on Sharon. ‘Lovely, thank you, Sharon.’
‘Cake’s coming,’ she said brightly, moving back to the main counter.
Kate tried to get the discussion back on track. ‘Has Professor Chan shown any behaviour recently outside the normal parameters you’d expect from him?’
Both of them chose to remain silent as Sharon returned with the cake.
‘Enjoy,’ she trilled and the two of them smiled their thanks.
Maartens continued. ‘May I ask, is my colleague under investigation?’
‘No, not at all. He’s helping us with enquiries in the same way that you are. These are all normal questions — and he
was
the victim’s fiancé.’
‘First suspect?’
She blinked as she absently stirred her coffee. ‘Looking into the background and particularly the motives of a victim’s partner is usual procedure.’
‘Good. I would hate to think a man of his reputation was having it besmirched without any formal accusation, even if he did have good reason.’ He pushed a slice of cake toward her.
Kate frowned as she picked up the fork. ‘What do you mean?’
Charles looked uncertain for the first time, but recovered himself as he gestured towards the cake. ‘I mean, try it. It’s sandwiched with a delectable honey-flavoured custard with toffee sauce and —’
She wasn’t to be sidetracked. ‘Not the cake, Charles. What do you mean by Professor Chan having good reason?’
He sighed. ‘I don’t really know what I meant by that. Forget I said it. Come on, taste your cake and —’
‘Charles, unintended or otherwise, I need you to explain your remark.’
‘Look, it’s not important. I promise you. And all it will do is colour the investigation, send you off in a direction that would be an unnecessary wasting of police time.’
‘Will you let us be the judge of that?’
‘Really, Kate, it was a slip of the tongue and I don’t want to pursue it.’
She sat back, watching him suddenly fidget with sugar sachets. He had dropped the eye contact, having previously stared at her so relentlessly it had made her feel self-conscious. ‘I’m afraid I can’t leave it alone. If you’re not prepared to tell me, then I will have to tell my DCI that you know something that may or may not be pertinent to the case but that you’re refusing to answer honestly.’
‘And?’ He sipped his coffee.
‘And we’ll bring you in for questioning,’ she finished in a firm tone.
Charles looked at her over the rim of his cup. ‘And there we were discussing arrangements for our first date,’ he said, and she could see he was playing for time, his undeniably quick mind trying to work out how to handle her.
No more nice Kate
. ‘We were doing no such thing. Tell me what you meant by that comment.’
She watched him run a hand through his still very blond, thick hair, exquisitely tinted with subtle highlights. It fell neatly back into place, courtesy of a no doubt horribly expensive cut.
‘It will incriminate him but it has no bearing on the case. Will you just trust me?’
She shook her head sadly. ‘It’s my job to trust no one. I have to discover facts. Now either tell me or we stop right here and I phone Scotland Yard and make arrangements to call you in for formal questioning.’
He put up his hands. ‘Okay. Fuck, what a ball-buster you are.’ She waited, staring at him over the untouched cake. ‘All right.’ He shrugged. ‘Jimmy did confide in me that he suspected Lily was seeing someone else.’
‘What evidence did he have?’
Charles shook his head as he sipped his coffee. ‘None that I know of. It was just a feeling he had, I think.’
‘Why did he tell you this?’ She picked up her coffee for something to do so he wouldn’t be able to tell just how interested she was in this ‘inconsequential’ detail.
The doctor laughed. ‘It
was
odd; even I thought so at the time. He’s a very self-contained man, James Chan. He simply does not discuss his personal life with anyone at the clinic or the unit. But Jimmy and I have known each other such a long time. We were at one of those fund-raising functions. Very tedious and both of us pretty fatigued, I recall, directly off a flight from New York where we’d attended a convention together. We were drinking only lightly to be polite but I imagine the champagne on top of his weariness must have loosened Jimmy’s normal reserve and when I asked him how Lily was — as you do — he admitted that he suspected she had a lover.’ Maartens held up a hand again. ‘That’s all I know.’
Kate sat forward. ‘Well, how did he say it?’
He looked back at her, bemused. ‘
How
did he say it?’
‘I mean was he angry, bitter, smiling?’
‘No, he wasn’t smiling, Kate. The only way to describe James Chan ever is calm. And that’s how he was when he told me of his suspicion.’
‘What, not upset at all?’ she replied, disbelief lacing her tone.
‘I didn’t say that. I can’t tell you how James was feeling inside. He is a master of keeping his emotions entirely in check. I’m sure you would have noticed
even in the brief time you were interviewing him yesterday. James may well have been a mess inside, but outwardly he was matter-of-fact, as he always is.’
‘Did he say anything else?’
‘Well, naturally I pressed him because I was surprised too. But he didn’t strike me as concealing anger. He did say that Lily was young and beautiful so any and every man would be interested in her. He also acknowledged that it was only in his eyes that they were engaged. Lily was yet to accept his proposal of marriage. I didn’t know that until that moment. I’d always thought it had been formalised.’
‘I gather her parents seemed to believe the pair were engaged.’
He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met them. I never met Lily.’
‘What!’
‘I’m serious. I wouldn’t know her if she walked into this room right now. My apologies, that was in poor taste, but you get my drift.’
‘Isn’t that odd?’
‘No,’ he said indignantly. ‘You keep hinting at that. But I don’t introduce my colleagues to women I’m seeing. You’re getting this wrong, Kate. Apart from Professor Chan being the single most private individual I know, you’re making the assumption that we’re one big happy office gang that celebrates birthdays and goes down to the pub together. It doesn’t work that way. These are consulting surgeons, all at the top of their tree. Huge egos, enormous earning potential, each from different backgrounds and with a variety of interests that we don’t share. All we have in common is that we work at the Royal London Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery Unit doing pretty amazing, cutting-edge work for unfortunate
people who need our help. We barely know where each other lives, let alone wives’ names and how many children so and so has. I know that probably sounds curious to an outsider, but frankly I’m not interested in my colleagues’ golf handicaps or favourite holiday destinations … neither is Jimmy, nor are any of these highly respected, incredibly busy people. Now with Jimmy and I being friends and fellow directors of Elysium, naturally we know a fraction more about each other. But don’t go thinking we’re all having a knees-up each weekend.’
‘I understand. But the fact that you
are
friends suggests you might at least know or have met his fiancée.’
‘No, I told you, we don’t socialise other than when professional circumstances demand it. Jimmy’s a Hong Kong Chinese who might speak Cantonese at home and like to wear stilettos for all I know. I’m from Africa but collect rare medieval Russian icons or maybe it’s Hungarian stamps, for all he knows. What do you honestly think we have in common?’ He was angry, she could tell, but he hadn’t raised his voice and his tone had remained friendly. But in his eyes she could see the passion and knew this was likely not the first time Dr Charles Maartens had been accused of being strange for knowing so little about his colleagues — and they him, presumably. ‘I knew
of
Lily, that’s it. Jimmy had kept her to himself for some time. In fact, now I come to think of it, it’s only relatively recently that he admitted he was thinking of getting married.’