Dead Tomorrow

healthy. It’s a big investment for us to send you to England. We have to get you a passport, somehow, which is not so easy as you have no papers. And they won’t allow you to work there if you are not healthy.’
    Simona shrank away as the needle approached. ‘No,’ she said. ‘NO!’
    ‘It’s OK, darling Simona!’
    ‘Where’s Romeo?’
    ‘He’s outside. He is having the same tests. Would you like him to come in here with you?’
    Simona nodded.
    The woman opened the door. Romeo came in, his saucer eyes becoming even wider when he saw Simona in her dressing gown.
    ‘What are they doing?’ Simona asked him.
    ‘It’s OK,’ Romeo said. ‘They won’t hurt you. We have to have this medical.’
    Simona shrieked as she felt the prick in her arm. Then she watched in terror as the doctor drew up the plunger and the plastic barrel filled, slowly and steadily, with her dark red blood.
    ‘We have to have the certificates to get into the country,’ Romeo said.
    ‘It hurts.’
    Moments later, the syringe was full. The doctor removed it, laid it on a table, then pressed an antiseptic wipe against her arm. He held it for a few seconds, then stuck on a small square of Band-aid in its place.
    ‘All done!’ he said.
    ‘Can I go now?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes, you can go,’ the woman said. ‘You will be in the same place?’
    ‘Yes,’ Romeoanswered for both of them.
    ‘Then I will come and find you, if we are happy that everything is all right. You can get dressed again now. Are you sure about England, Simona? You are sure you want to go, my little Liebling?’
    ‘You can get me a job there, can’t you? Me and Romeo? And a flat to live in, in London?’
    ‘A good job and a nice flat. You will love it.’
    Simona looked at Romeo for reassurance. He shrugged, then nodded.
    ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I am sure.’
    ‘Good,’ Marlene said. She kissed Simona on the forehead.
    ‘When do you think we will go?’ Romeo asked.
    ‘If your medical results are good, then soon.’
    ‘How soon?’
    ‘When do you want to go?’
    He shrugged again. ‘Can Valeria come with us?’
    ‘The one who has a baby?’
    ‘Yes,’ he said.
    ‘That’s not possible now. Perhaps later, when you are settled, then we can make arrangements.’
    ‘She wants to come with us,’ Simona said.
    ‘It is not possible,’ the German woman said. ‘Not at this time. If you would prefer to stay here in Bucharest to be with her, then you must say so.’
    Simona shook her head vigorously. ‘No.’
    Romeo also shook his head, equally vigorously, as if afraid Marlene might suddenly change her mind about Simona and himself. ‘No.’
    Backin Berlin, Marlene Hartmann received a phone call from Dr Nicolau in Bucharest. Simona’s blood type was AB negative. She smiled and noted the details down–it was good to have a rare blood group on her books. She was sure she would find a home for all Simona’s organs very quickly.

50
    Afterthe Tuesday morning briefing meeting of Operation Neptune, Roy Grace drove to the Sussex Police headquarters, twenty minutes away, to update Alison Vosper.
    Although she was leaving at the end of the year, to be replaced by a Yorkshire Detective Chief Superintendent called Peter Rigg–about whom he knew little so far–she was still fully hands on for a few weeks more and wanted the usual weekly face-time she had with Roy on any major investigation he was involved with. To his surprise, and relief, today she had been in a strangely subdued mood. He waited for her to kick off, but it hadn’t happened. She listened quietly to his update and dismissed him after only a few minutes.
    Now back in his office, scrolling through the endless emails on his screen, he was concentrating on his various lines of enquiry when he was interrupted by a knock on his door and Norman Potting entered, reeking of strong tobacco–no doubt having just nipped outside for quick puff or three on his pipe.
    ‘Do you have a moment, Roy?’ he asked in his rural burr.
    Grace gestured for him to take a seat.
    Settling down into the chair in front of the desk, loudly expelling a puff of garlicky breath in the process, Potting said, ‘I wondered if I could have a word with you about Romania? I have something which I didn’t think I should raise publicly at the briefing meeting.’
    ‘Sure.’ Gracelooked at him with interest.
    ‘Well, I think I might have a short cut. I know that we’ve sent dental records, fingerprints and DNA samples of these