His mind was a miasma of disorganized thoughts. But at least he had done what he could about Randall Cummings. Now he would have to await developments. And repercussions. Would it affect his own employment prospects? More than likely. He looked around at the garden. The fruit trees were on the verge of bursting their buds and the first glossy tufts of bluebell leaves sprang from the banks of the stream.

Maybe he would pack it all in and just be a gardener. He didn’t need much. As long as he had enough to keep the house going, he could do the rest himself. He looked at the old mellow bricks and the white-framed windows, the old tiles on the roof encrusted with dull green moss. It was the house he was married to now. The house and the garden. It would be nice, though, if that did not have to be the beginning and the end of it.

Mr Tan stood up with an outstretched hand as Gary approached. He was taller than he had appeared in the photographs, and more heavily built. He gave a curt bow as he shook Gary’s hand and said, ‘Dr Wilson, how good to see you.’ His smile was broad and Gary saw that among the even row of teeth there was one large, gold crown. He hadn’t noticed that in the photographs either.

‘Mr Tan.’ Gary inclined his head in a gentle nod, in the way that he assumed Dr Wilson would incline his head if he found himself in this situation.

Mr Tan motioned Gary to sit and then said to a passing waitress, ‘May we have some tea please. China.’

Gary smiled. ‘Lapsang?’ He could not resist the remark.

‘Of course. It is very difficult to find in Shanghai. Most people do not like it. They consider it to be inferior. I, on the other hand, am very fond of it.’ He turned again to the waitress. ‘And some scones please. With jam and clotted cream.’

His English was impeccable, if a little old fashioned, and Gary found himself suppressing a smile. He thought that he had better get down to business. ‘So you think you can help me, Mr Tan?’

‘That rather depends, Dr Wilson, on what it was you had in mind.’

Gary slipped into what he hoped would sound like surgeon mode. ‘We have a busy clinic, Mr Tan. We perform, on average, three kidney transplants a month and we could perform many more if we could get hold of the organs.’ He hoped that ‘get hold of the organs’ sounded all right. Mr Tan remained impassive and so he continued. ‘We also carry out bone transplants and liver and heart transplants, though these are not so frequent as the operations for kidney replacement.’

Mr Tan nodded. ‘So what exactly would you be requiring from me?’ he asked.