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Dead Tomorrow

Dead Tomorrow

Titel: Dead Tomorrow Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Peter James
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might be, Glenn?’
    ‘No, chief, but I’m certain he has a connection. And I think we should move on him quickly.’
    ‘OK,’ Grace agreed. ‘Get a search warrant, but you’ll need to beef up the application a bit. Then see if he’ll talk voluntarily–you might get more out of him that way than if you arrest him and he gets silenced by a brief. Take someone interview-trained. Bella.’ He looked at DI Mantle. ‘OK with you, Lizzie?’
    The Detective Inspector nodded.
    Grace glanced at his watch, doing a quick calculation. By the time Branson had filled in the search warrant paperwork, then found a magistrate to sign the warrant, it would be at least ten, if they were lucky. Thinking back again to his own sighting of Cosmescu’s Mercedes sports car, he said, ‘The man’s a night owl–you might have a long wait for him.’
    ‘Then we’ll just have to make ourselves comfy in his pad in the meantime!’ Branson said.
    ‘God help his CD collection,’ Grace replied.
    Branson had the decency to look embarrassed.
    ‘When you do catch up with him,’ Grace said, ‘I think you’ll find him hard work. He’s been around in the vice world of this city for a decade without being nicked once. You don’t do that unless you know how to play the game.’
    Then he glancedback at the agenda.
    ‘Yesterday we established a Mrs Lynn Beckett, whose phone number I was given by our German police contacts, has a daughter suffering from liver failure.’ He tapped the photocopied wodge. ‘These are phone call logs from the German company I went to see today, Transplantation-Zentrale. I’m not meant to have them, officially, so we’ll have to handle them a bit delicately, but that won’t hinder us.’
    He sipped his coffee, then went on.
    ‘I’ve found nine outgoing calls to Lynn Beckett’s landline number, and four incoming calls received from it, in the past three days, and a further two outgoing calls to her mobile phone.’
    ‘Do you have any recordings of the calls, Roy?’ Guy Batchelor asked.
    ‘Unfortunately not. They have similar privacy laws to us. But they’re working on authorization, which should come through any time now.’
    ‘Probably different in Adolf’s day,’ mumbled Potting.
    Grace shot him daggers, then said, ‘I met with a woman called Marlene Hartmann, head of the German organ broking firm, Transplantation-Zentrale, in Munich this morning. They’re doing business in England right under our noses! We need to find very urgently where they are operating here. This flurry of activity with Mrs Beckett indicates something’s brewing and—’
    Potting’s mobile phone suddenly rang, playing the Indiana Jones theme tune. Blushing, he glanced at the display, then stood up, muttered, ‘This might be relevant–Romania!’ and stepped out of the room.
    ‘And we probably have very little time to find where they are doing this,’ Grace continued. ‘I’ve been making some calls aroundthe medical world, trying to understand exactly what would be needed for an organ transplant facility, whether temporary or permanent.’
    ‘A large team, Roy,’ Guy Batchelor said. ‘When we were interviewing Sir Roger Sirius, he said–’ he paused to flip a couple of pages back through his notebook–’you’d need a minimum of three surgeons, two anaesthetists, a bare minimum of three scrub nurses, and a 24/7 intensive care team including several trained in transplant aftercare.’
    ‘Yes, in total fifteen to twenty people,’ Grace said. ‘And they need a minimum of one fully equipped operating theatre and a full intensive care unit.’
    ‘So we have to be looking at a hospital,’ Nick Nicholl said. ‘Either a National Health or a private one.’
    ‘We can rule out the National Health. It would be virtually impossible to get an illegal organ like a liver through the system,’ said DI Mantle.
    ‘How sure are we of that?’ Glenn Branson asked.
    ‘Very sure,’ Lizzie Mantle said. ‘The system is pretty watertight. To slip an organ through the system, an awful lot of people would have to know about it. If it was just one person, that might be different.’
    Branson nodded pensively.
    ‘I think we’re looking at a private hospital or clinic,’ Grace said. ‘There must be drugs specific to human organ transplants–we need to identify what those are, who makes them and supplies them, and then take a look at the private hospitals and clinics they’re sold to.’
    ‘That’s going to take

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