George Barnabas - 04 - Fourth Attempt Read Online Free Page A

Home Office Pathologist for the patch of London served by Old East was quite enough for her to deal with. Anyway, her patrons, if she had such things, were not here, but among the police and the civil service, and she rarely had to see any of the latter. What she saw of the former suited her very well.
    However, she would not let herself be distracted by thoughts of the police, or more accurately thoughts of one particular policeman: Superintendent Gus Hathaway. There were several things that needed thinking about regarding him. But not now.
    Another of the people standing beside Professor Hunnisett caught her eye, smiled and raised one hand. She smiled back. She’d already met him. He’d come over to her table in the canteen one lunchtime a few months ago, very soon after being appointed, to introduce himself as the new research fellow in Neurology.
    ‘I don’t know yet just how much I might want to ask the path. lab to do,’ he said. ‘I do a lot of my own tasks, of course, but you never know. So I thought I’d better ingratiate myself with you as much as possible to be on the safe side.’
    She had laughed at so direct an approach and invited him to join her, which he had, eagerly, and she had found him amusing company.
    ‘My name, heaven help me, is Zoltan Zacharias,’ he said. ‘Yes, I know it sounds like something out of an eighteenth-century Gothic novel but I can’t help it. People call me Zack.’
    ‘Good to know you, Zack,’ she had said. ‘They call me George, on account of it’s my name, just like yours is Zoltan. I wouldn’t let them call me Barney just because they couldn’t cope with George.’
    ‘Then I guess I just don’t have your courage,’ he said. She had tilted her head at the hint of an American accent she had heard in his voice. He didn’t wait to be asked. ‘Canadian. Why George?’
    ‘Because my mother was a feminist,’ she said shortly. ‘And my grandfather wasn’t. He left all his money to any child of hers named after him. She had me and called me after him. Why Canadian?’
    He blinked. ‘How do you mean, why?’
    ‘All the Canadians I ever met came there from somewhere else. Like Americans dodging the draft and Europeans dodging — well, Europe. The ones who are born there all go to work in the States.’
    He laughed. ‘That’s a gross exaggeration. You’ve clearly met all the wrong Canadians. But you’re right in one way. I’m — I was — an immigrant. Too young to know it at the time, mind you. I went there in ’56.’
    She nodded, understanding at once. ‘The Hungarian uprising? I thought Zoltan was a Hungarian name. And I didn’t mean to be rude about Canadians. It’s a great country, and —’
    ‘Yeah. Some of your best friends, right?’
    ‘No, really. I was just being a smartass, I suppose. Hell,what right do I have to be rude about Canada when I come from Buffalo? So, what are you planning to do here?’
    ‘Research.’ He grinned widely and it suited him. She liked the way he looked: he had thick hair that was the sort of dusty brown that must have been straw-blond in his infancy, and narrow green eyes that almost disappeared when he smiled. The cheekbones and the jawline were pronounced enough to be almost a caricature of the Slav stereotype, but were overlain with enough chubbiness to show that he enjoyed the pleasures of the table. He wasn’t fat but he clearly could be, one day, if he didn’t watch it. Altogether an attractive personality, she told herself. And I like his voice. It’s very dark toffee and luscious with it.
    ‘I know. You already told me that. What sort of research?’
    ‘I’m interested in motor-neurone disease. And stuff like it.’
    She grimaced. ‘Nasty. So little anyone can do. And it’s so damned fast, isn’t it?’
    ‘Sometimes. Some patients manage to live a long time, however. Like Stephen Hawking.’
    ‘Ah, yes. The exception that proves the rule, hmm?’
    ‘No. The exception that proves research makes