Dead Man's Time

more closely.
    ‘Gorgeous! You can always tell an original – they just have that
je ne sais quoi
about them! A real one speaks for itself !’
    ‘So true. I’m a little confused with the time difference – when are we due to land in Moscow, local time?’
    He looked at his own watch, a studded, bronze Hublot. ‘Three fifteen. Just over three hours.’
    ‘Thank you.’
    He moved on down the aisle. Sarah Courteney unclipped the clasp of her handbag and dipped her hand inside, touching the soft velvet pouch, then lifting it up a few inches, feeling the reassuring
weight of the Patek Philippe pocket watch, with the cracked crystal, Arabic numeral dial and the broken crown.
    Oh yes, there was nothing to beat an original.
    Aileen had shown it to her once, a few years ago, taking it out of the secret compartment at the rear of her safe. And the sweet old lady had never noticed it missing for that week, earlier in
the year, when she had taken it to Dubai, to the little workshop that made such exquisite reproductions.
    Clearly, Gareth Dupont had not noticed the difference either when he had stolen the fake in that horrid robbery which had totally shocked her. She had never realized the bastard had been using
her.
    But all that was history now. Just like Lucas, facing a decade – and probably longer – behind bars, both in Spain and England.
    Good riddance, at last.
    As the third glass of champagne slipped her into a pleasantly woozy state, she was thinking that, given all that had happened in these past weeks, Aileen would have been proud of her.
    She had a buyer in Moscow, willing to pay two and a half million pounds, in cash, and he wasn’t concerned about a detail like provenance.
    That was good – no hassle. What the hell did proving provenance matter – the watch was real. Just as the cabin steward had said, the real item spoke for itself.
    Her father always told her that only two things really mattered in life: health and the time you had left. So, she was in good shape. She had her health.
    And she had her time.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
    Two important health notes:
    1. You will have read in my story of the tragic death of one of the characters from
Malignant Hyperthermia
. This is a real condition that very nearly killed the
son of a close friend. It is an hereditary problem causing contracture of muscle and disruption to metabolic functions during general anaesthesia. It is undetectable until a family member reacts
under anaesthesia. Diagnosis is by muscle biopsy at the MH Investigation Unit in Leeds. Once diagnosed MH susceptible people can have anaesthesia, provided triggering drugs are avoided and correct
monitoring is undertaken. MH is potentially fatal if undetected by the anaesthetist. More information can be found at www.bmha.co.uk
    2. One of the characters is diagnosed with Prostate cancer. Information on this disease was kindly given to me by Colin Stokes and John Davies of the Prostate Project,
Purbecks House, Grosvenor Road, Godalming, GU7 1NZ, which offers support and awareness. www.prostate-project.org.uk. Tel no: (+44) 01483 419501. The charity supports the local hospitals to improve
services and they are now centres of excellence.
    *
    My biggest research debt is to New York detective Pat Lanigan, grand-nephew of Dinny Meehan, leader of the White Hand Gang, who was murdered at his home in Brooklyn on 31 March
1920. It was through Pat sharing his family history and archive material that this book came into being.
    Another huge debt is to the many officers and support staff of Sussex Police, who give me such constant and enthusiastic help and advice. Most of all, thank you to Chief Constable Martin
Richards, QPM, for being so very kind and constantly supportive.
    Retired Detective Chief Superintendent David Gaylor of Sussex CID, the inspiration behind Roy Grace, not only helps me constantly to hatch my plots, and to ensure Roy Grace and all his team
think and act the way real police officers would, he is also my slave driver, making sure I keep up the relentless writing pace through the seven months or so of the first draft . . . and
beyond.
    Chief Superintendent Graham Bartlett, Divisional Commander of Brighton and Hove Police, has also been immensely helpful on this book. Chief Inspector Jason Tingley has been a total star, helping
me both creatively and procedurally on many aspects of this story. As also have DCI Nick Sloan, DCI (retired) Trevor Bowles, Sgt Phil Taylor and Ray