McIntosh Blood Pact

The explosive new DCI Jack Hawksworth addictive thriller (DCI Jack Hawksworth 6)
1. Auflage 2025
ISBN: 978-1-83501-133-1
Verlag: No Exit Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, Band 6, 416 Seiten

Reihe: DCI Jack Hawksworth

Autoren/Hrsg.

McIntosh, Fiona

Leseproben

PROLOGUE

Bristol, December 2007

She hadn’t meant to kill anyone.

It was Liv’s first time. She was embarrassed that she’d left it this long. She could track who received it, but she wouldn’t. That would be creepy.

She grabbed her ID tag and slung it around her neck before putting on the olive-green Barbour-style coat she’d bought at Jigsaw. When she’d decided she needed this coat, there had been none left in the country; she’d finally found one in Northern Ireland, of all places. She had never regretted the ninety pounds or the postage.

Liv negotiated the myriad corridors of the sprawling rabbit warren, a single-storey building on an industrial estate, and once again counted her blessings for the purchase as she exited the facility’s revolving doors into the bitterly cold car park.

If she had a good run, she could be at the centre in about five minutes, and then if she allowed half an hour to lose her virginity – that thought made her smile – she could be back in time to grab a baked potato with trashy trimmings as her reward; it was today’s special in the canteen.

At the Blood Donor Centre the nurse welcomed her warmly, a contrast to the cold smells of antiseptic, plastic and metal that hit her on arrival. ‘Oh, ’ello, a brave soul. Come on in from the cold, my lover. You’re in luck. It’s just slowed down.’

Liv glanced around. The only other person she could see was a second nurse, packing plastic bags of blood: some a rich scarlet, others so dark they could be brown. ‘Is it just me?’

‘For now,’ the nurse said with a grin. Her badge said Gail P. ‘Run off our feet all morning and the last fella just left.’

‘Good to hear. How many?’

‘Lost count. Maybe nearing three dozen,’ the other nurse said, as Gail reached for Liv’s form.

‘Did you fill it in earlier?’

Liv nodded. ‘I’ve confessed all my sins, medical and lifestyle, and travel and, er… romantic, not that there’s been much of the latter.’

‘Right,’ Gail said, checking through the paperwork. ‘Sorry to make you repeat yourself, but you’ll get used to it. I need your full name, please, then your date of birth and your address.’

Liv dutifully recited all the information as George Michael sang about the previous Christmas on the radio they’d turned up full blast – probably because it was so slow they thought they were done with collections for the day. The other nurse was bopping along, and the tinsel wound around her name badge danced with her.

‘All right, my lover,’ Gail said in that familiar West Country way. She attached Liv’s form to a clipboard. ‘I see this is your first time?’

‘A virgin!’ the second nurse crowed.

‘Yes. I’m glad I’m finally doing this. Oh, you’re Gayle too,’ Liv said, noticing the name on the dancing woman’s badge.

‘Yes, spelt differently but there’s confusion, obviously, so we have Gail P and Gayle G.’

‘Have you stayed hydrated this morning?’ Gail asked, leading Liv over to a blue vinyl recliner chair.

‘Yes. Do I really have to drink another pint of water?’

‘Protocol, my love,’ she said, handing Liv an A4 folder. ‘And here’s your delightful reading material.’

Liv groaned.

‘I know. Go on, flick through it. It’s necessary. I’ll get your water while you read.’

Liv obediently turned the laminated pages of safety information, scanning but not really reading them. Gail returned with a plastic cup and Liv began to drink, closing the folder and looking around the room. A number of brightly coloured posters told her how many products could be made from her blood, how many people she might be helping today, how her donation was the gift of life, along with several testimonials from donors and recipients alike. Everyone on the posters was smiling. One suggested she consider becoming a tissue donor. Working at Filton’s massive blood centre, she was frequently reminded of just how brilliant blood donations were and how many people a single donation could help, yet it had taken her this long to finally do it. Oh well, she was here now.

‘Do we drink all this to replenish the liquid being taken?’ Liv asked as the nurse returned to take her cup.

Gail nodded. ‘It also stops you fainting afterwards.’

‘I’m going to faint?’ Liv repeated, sounding mortified.

Gail snorted. ‘No, love. It’s a precaution. We make sure you leave us feeling great, I promise.’ She snapped on a pair of fresh gloves. ‘Right, more questions. Are you feeling well today? Haven’t had any illness recently?’

Liv shook her head.

‘Have you been out of the country in the last six months?’

‘Nope. I wish.’

‘No lucky fellow in your life?’

Liv shrugged with a sad expression.

‘He’ll find you.’

‘Hope so. Sometimes I think I’m pathetic, but to be honest all I want is a quiet life and a nice man to settle down with and have a family.’

‘Why is that pathetic?’ Gail sounded astonished. ‘Nothing wrong with that.’

‘Oh, these days I feel like every woman my age has to be striving for a career, the perfect lifestyle, a glamorous home, you know.’

Gail made a sound of disdain.

‘But I’ll be happy with someone who loves me and I love back.’

‘Stick to that plan. It’s all that matters,’ the older woman assured her. ‘So, we’re going to check name, date of birth and address again, please. I know it’s tedious, but it prevents any mishaps,’ she said.

Liv obliged with the details.

‘Thank you. So now the finger prick. Don’t be scared – you won’t feel a thing. You’re a leftie?’

Liv nodded.

‘Okay, we’ll use your right hand,’ she said and wiped Liv’s middle finger with an alcohol swab. She made a swift prick to Liv’s finger and squeezed a small drop of blood from the site, which she wiped away and then repeated to elicit a bright, richly scarlet droplet that she drew into a pipette.

Liv watched her drop the blood sample into one of two vials of coloured liquid. ‘What’s that solution you’re putting it into?’ She knew very well what it was from her work as a lab assistant, but she wanted to see how much the nurses knew about their routine. She was ready with an answer if asked: it would feel awkward now to mention Filton and face the inevitable question of why she hadn’t already donated.

‘This is copper sulphate. The gals are green and the guys are blue. Don’t ask me to explain why – it’s all a bit technical.’

Liv laughed, the answer running through her head: women’s solution had a specific gravity of 1.053 and the men’s 1.055. ‘And why do we do that?’

‘We need your drop of blood to sink. If it fails to do that, I won’t be drawing blood from you today. I’m a little tired and caffeine-deprived to explain the complexity of this.’ She grinned and turned on a timer. ‘But let me try because you’re interested and we’re grateful for your gift. If the specific gravity of your blood is higher than the solution, which is what we want, it will sink and assure me that you have adequate levels of haemoglobin to safely donate.’ She tapped Liv’s arm gently. ‘Now we wait.’

Liv was impressed by Gail’s layman’s explanation.

It was an obedient drop of blood.

‘There we go,’ Gail said triumphantly. ‘So get comfy while I fetch what we need.’

The HemaFlow Scale, which would gently rock Liv’s blood to prevent it from coagulating, was already on the floor at her side. Gail returned with a plastic basket containing a blood donation pack, swabs, sample vials and assorted paraphernalia.

‘Do you know your blood type?’

Liv shook her head, unsure of why she was fibbing. Still, Gail, despite her fatigue, seemed to enjoy leading her through the process.

‘You’re A positive, for future reference. I hope you’ll become a regular. You and about half the population belong to the A group.’

‘A plus,’ Liv said. ‘I hope my parents are proud.’

Gail laughed and put the blood pack onto the scales. ‘I’ll just recline the seat and adjust this armrest. Comfortable?’

Liv nodded.

Gail wound a blood pressure cuff around Liv’s upper arm and pumped it up. ‘Make a fist for me,’ she said. ‘Open and close a couple of times.’ She studied Liv’s inner elbow. ‘Well, we have a lovely vein right here,’ she said, ripping open an alcohol swab and wiping the area. She picked up the 16-gauge retractable needle. ‘Sharp scratch,’ she warned, and inserted the needle as Liv looked away, barely feeling the expert intrusion. ‘All done,’ she said cheerfully, taping the attached tubes in place on Liv’s arm. ‘I’m just going to take some samples for testing,’ she said, snapping on and off various vials that she filled with Liv’s blood before attaching the bag. ‘Try to relax.’ She switched on the HemaFlow machine, and the first small stream of blood began to settle into the bag. ‘I’m just going to get everything checked and ready for sending – I’ll be back in a few, okay?’

Not quite five minutes later, the alarm on Liv’s machine sounded and the donation of nearly 500 millilitres of her blood was complete.

Gail switched off the alarm. ‘Feeling light-headed?’

‘No.’ Liv smiled with relief.

‘Good, but you need...