Monty Loveday whistled under his breath. Then his expression changed to one of incredulity. ‘But it’s a bit fanciful, isn’t it? Do you really think Cummings would have resorted to murder just to stop Reggie blowing the whistle on a bit of unethical medicine?’

‘Not just unethical. Illegal.’ Christopher explained about his sighting of Randall Cummings at the Red Dragon, sitting down with the Chinese gentleman. He confided, also, that it had not been the first time that Cummings had been seen there in such company. ‘And do you know where the vast majority of organs for transplant come from nowadays?’ he asked Monty.

‘India?’

‘China.’

‘So you think Reggie had rumbled Cummings and was about to blow the gaff?’

‘Yes. And in doing so he would not only have ruined Cummings’s career, but also stopped him from earning hundreds of thousands a year in backhanders.’

‘That much?’

‘Oh, yes. The illegal organs market runs into millions. There was a case in nineteen ninety-nine when bids for a kidney from a live donor reached five point seven million dollars on an auction website before the company realized what was going on and pulled the plug. If you’re rich, and dying, you’ll pay anything to stay alive.’

‘You can’t prove that Cummings injected Reggie with insulin though.’

‘No. I can’t. And I wouldn’t voice this to anyone but you. But if these other developments amount to more than a coincidence then there’s no way I can ignore them any more.’

‘So where’s Cummings now?’

‘He’s gone away for two days and we don’t know where. He simply told the surgery he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow and they have no way of contacting him.’

‘And if he’s a doctor in general practice and nobody knows where he is you reckon there’s something not altogether above board going on?’

‘Exactly.’

Monty thought for a moment and looked at his feet. Then he said, ‘Sounds like something from a novel. Only much more squalid than hers.’

Christopher looked down. They were standing alongside the grave of Jane Austen. ‘Yes. I just hope it’s not my overactive imagination that’s brought me here.’

‘Come on,’ said Monty.

‘Where to?’ asked Christopher.

‘We’re going to the police station.’

They brought Tiger home that afternoon. He was not the easiest of patients. ‘More of an impatient if you want the truth,’ Erica told her daughters. They had offered to come home, to help look after him, but Erica had said she could manage. She wanted some time with him to herself. Time to get through to him without distractions. She worried about the shop, about whether Brian would be able to cope, but decided that he would have to rise to the challenge. It was more important that she was here.