‘Yes, yes, I’m sure. I should have realized. Reggie was always so keen on his patients carrying donor cards it would have been surprising if he hadn’t carried one himself. It was stupid of me not to remember.’

Christopher made to go, then he turned at the door. ‘How long have you been working here, Mark?’

‘Oh, about eighteen months. Why?’

‘Do you have many dealings with Dr Cummings?’

‘Not if I can help it. Scares the pants off me. Gruff old bugger.’

‘Not popular then?’

‘Not much. The patients are terrified of him and most of the nurses are wary. Oh, he’s all right, I suppose. But a bit too autocratic for most of us.’

‘Is that all? There’s nothing else about him that people don’t like?’

Mark Armstrong laughed. ‘I’d have thought that was enough. He’s not very friendly, not very chatty. A bit hard to get to know. But then with a bark like that no one really wants to make the effort. You get him in to see his patients, but he doesn’t make a point of fraternizing with anyone. Keeps himself to himself.’

Christopher nodded thoughtfully. ‘I gather he signed Dr Silverwood’s death certificate?’

‘Yes. He happened to be on the ward when he died. Said he’d do it as Dr Silverwood was a colleague.’

‘And did he know about Reggie’s organ donor card?’

‘Yes. Well he must have done. In fact, I think he alerted us to it. Yes, that’s right. He said he would put in a call to someone.’

‘And did he?’

‘No. We have our own procedure for organ donation and so it was taken in hand here.’

Christopher sighed with relief.

‘Is something wrong Dr Devon?’

‘No. Not this time, thank God.’

Mark Armstrong looked at him quizzically. ‘You used to work with Dr Cummings, didn’t you?’

‘Yes. Yes, I did.’

‘Can’t have been easy.’

‘No.’

‘But you moved on?’

‘Yes, Mark. I moved on.’ He nodded a farewell and left the doctor’s room, murmuring to himself as he went, ‘But I’m not sure where to.’