SAID KARL, picking up his mobile, taking a break from his typewriter. Outside the bedroom window, a healthy rain was battering the glass. “Karl? Tom. How are things?”“As fine as wine. Why do you always call so late at night? Shouldn’t you be doing interesting things with your lovely wife Anne?”“I should, but because I work all day, doing favours for ungrateful friends, I never get much of a chance.”“Point taken, and very much appreciated. Did you get the results from the blood sample I asked you for two days ago?”“Those things take time. Possibly tomorrow, if things go smoothly. Listen, I’ve another piece of news for you. Remember the amputated hands found inside the pig?”“How could I forget? Bacon sandwiches will never be the same again.” “One of them has been traced to a Mister Basil Donaldson. Police were able to locate his prints from their database.”“I take it he has a record, then?”“He was convicted of embezzling sixty thousand pounds from work, and was given a six-month suspended sentence.”“Sixty thousand?”
