The stable block was very small. The first room with the waste in it was the old tack room, and there were only three more doors and a cubicle that had been converted into a small kitchen. Joe opened up the door on his right. It was in darkness, except for a night-light that highlighted the bed and the patient in it. Wee Elvis lay on a bed in a hospital gown, hooked up to an IV. Next to him was another bed, covered in bloodstains. There was a body covered in a sheet and I had no inclination to remove it.

‘Did you hear that?’ I asked, turning to look over my shoulder. But Joe didn’t answer me. He grabbed my jacket and pulled me into Wee Elvis’s room. Joe stared through the crack in the door. Wee Elvis’s hair was still damp; he had been showered quickly, I guessed. I looked at him in a clean, warm bed for the first time in years, and I knew I had to get him out of it.

‘Brodie,’ whispered Joe, breaking me out of my thoughts. ‘Look!’ Through a two-inch crack in the door, I saw the brightly lit corridor. Joe couldn’t take his eyes off the motorbike courier dressed all in black and carrying an organ transplant box. The bold red writing on the side declared: Human Heart-for transplantation

‘We have to let the courier go,’ said Joe. ‘It could all be above board and, even if it isn’t, whoever the heart belongs to…it’s not going to do him much good now.’ I nodded, clenched and unclenched the fingers of my hand. The courier walked away with the organ. He was good at his job. He wasn’t hanging around because the surgical team were waiting for the arrival of the organ. The recipient already had his old heart removed, and his family would be in the waiting room, pacing the floor, praying for his survival and anxious to begin their new life.

Just as my thoughts drifted back, Marshall walked into the room and up to Wee Elvis. Joe and I were still out of sight, but it didn’t matter. ‘Hello, Brodie,’ said Marshall without turning around. ‘And…Joe, is it? I believe I’ve been to your delightful hostelry in the past. How kind of you both to drop in.’ Marshall finally turned round. If he was at all surprised by our presence, it didn’t show in his eyes. My knees felt weak as Joe marched up to the doctor and swatted him away. Marshall fell against the operating table. I tried not to look. The sheet fell off the body, revealing a corpse with a huge hole in his chest–right where his heart once lived.