Necessary as Blood

should be.
    She caught an unpleasant whiff of sweat. They were succeeding, at least, in making Truman uncomfortable.
    Kincaid turned from studying the certificates. ‘Conferences in Brussels, and Bruges, and Lisbon. And you were just in Spain, you say? You must like to travel, Mr Truman. Have you ever been to Asia? India, perhaps, or Bangladesh?‘
    ‘What? No. Why would I want to go there? Those places are hardly civilized.‘
    ‘Oh, I wouldn‘t say that. But some areas are very poor, and people will do desperate things to survive. Things like selling their children, for instance.‘
    Truman stared at Kincaid. He was sweating visibly now, and had gone slightly blue around the lips. Gemma hoped he wouldn‘t keel over from a heart attack or a stroke right in front of them. ‘I‘ve never been to Asia,‘ he said. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. ‘You can check my passport.‘
    And the holiday in Spain, two weeks ago? Can you document that?‘
    ‘Of course I can.‘ A bit of Truman‘s bluster returned. ‘I drove. I had my passport stamped getting on and off the ferry.‘
    He was more comfortable accounting for his movements during the time of Naz‘s murder, Gemma thought, than he had been with the questions about Asia. And Kincaid‘s remark about the selling of children had frightened him badly. He definitely knew something dodgy.
    Somewhere beneath them, a dog barked. ‘Mr Truman.‘ Gemma smiled at him. ‘I take it your surgery is downstairs?‘
    ‘Yes.‘ He sounded a little wary, but relieved by the change in direction. ‘And there is a small boarding facility adjacent to the garden. The garden here is quite large, you know.‘
    ‘You must have assistants,‘ Gemma said, in a tone of sympathetic interest. The man was wearing a suit. Perhaps he traded his jacket for a lab coat, but she couldn‘t imagine him dealing personally with anything that might involve contact with blood or bodily fluids.
    ‘Yes. Eric and Anthony. They‘re very good.‘
    ‘Of course they are, or I‘m sure you wouldn‘t employ them.‘
    Truman had relaxed enough to glance at his watch. And they‘ll be waiting for me to start afternoon surgery.‘
    ‘Do you use ketamine in your practice, Mr Truman?‘ Gemma asked.
    He stared at her as if a friendly dog had turned and bitten him. ‘Ketamine? It‘s not uncommon. It‘s a useful sedative.‘ Puffing out his cheeks, he said, ‘Look, is this about drugs? I‘m not stupid. I know ketamine is sold as a street drug, but if you‘re accusing me—‘
    ‘We‘re not accusing you of anything,‘ Kincaid broke in. ‘But I‘m assuming you keep records of use against supply.‘
    ‘Of course I do.‘
    ‘Then you won‘t mind if we have a look at them.‘
    ‘I certainly would.‘ Truman had regained his obstinate attitude. ‘You might as well accuse me of being a common criminal, and I won‘t have it.‘
    ‘We could get a warrant,‘ Kincaid said.
    ‘Then I suggest you do so.‘ Truman stood, and Gemma saw that he was a good deal smaller than he‘d looked sitting down. His body seemed oddly proportioned, long in the torso compared to his legs. Perhaps that was why he‘d preferred to face them from behind his desk.
    ‘But you will let us have a look at your passport?‘
    ‘I will not.‘
    Kincaid shook his head. ‘That‘s most uncooperative, Mr Tuman. We have only to check with Immigration.‘
    ‘Then I suggest you do that, as well.‘ Truman crossed his arms, the stance of a man prepared to stand his ground. ‘And I won‘t speak to you again without a solicitor present. This is police bullying.‘
    ‘I think you‘ll find it‘s not,‘ Kincaid said, with a smile that would have made Gemma quail. ‘And you do realize, Mr Truman, that the people who insist on solicitors are most often those w T ho have something to hide.‘

    ‘We‘ve done nothing more than put the wind up him,‘ said Cullen when they‘d reached Gemma‘s car. ‘And given him a chance to falsify his drug records.‘
    ‘If he‘s been selling veterinary drugs on the side, I suspect he‘ll have done that already,‘ Kincaid answered. ‘And the amount given to Naz Malik would probably not be traceable. I thought he might slip and connect the question about the ketamine to Naz‘s death, as we‘ve never released that information, but he didn‘t.‘
    ‘Meaning either he didn‘t know, or he‘s very clever,‘ put in Gemma. ‘And I‘m not sure I buy the very clever.‘
    ‘He knew