In another part of London, Rafiq watched the news with a sinking heart. "Reports are coming in that the much rumoured message implicated the building's architect, Rob Gilbert, known for his involvement with the Petrov and Chinagate affairs. His phone rang. "Husani" the screen declared. His brother in law, the heart surgeon, who had been married to his now dead sister, Jamila.
"Rafiq, it's Husani, are you ok?
"I assume you've seen the news?"
"Yes I have," his gravelly middle eastern voice deadpan, a default tone in moments of extreme tension.
"Do we need to meet?" The Egyptian heart surgeon straining for any intonations or subtle messages that might have been embedded in the minimalist answers.
"No," Husani thought he heard a sound of a cigarette lighter at the other end, "that won't be necessary," he knew that Rafiq would try to protect him. So far he had managed to stay on the edge of Rob Gilbert's ‘adventures' but he knew this time he was being drawn in, "leave it to me," the phone went dead. Husani looked at it, pondering on what he should do but his mind soon drifted back to the discovery as it had done relentlessly since the autopsy yesterday morning. As one of London's most eminent heart surgeons he didn't normally get involved in such things but as the body had clearly had massive heart surgery, he had been brought in as an expert witness.
He had gasped as they removed the sheet.