CHAPTER 29
Chief Inspector Doug Templeton stood at the picture window looking impassively out over the Bradford skyline, his hands dug deep in the pockets of his beige trench coat.
“You can go in now chief inspector,” said the nurse in a soft Irish lilt, “if you would like to follow me.”
“How is he?” he asked, following her out of the waiting room. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder.
“Dr Munro will fill you in on his condition,” she said.
She opened the door to a private room. In it, wired up to a drip and an assortment of monitors was Alan Mattherson. The man standing at the foot of the bed looking at the medical charts which hung there turned when they walked in. He offered his hand to the policeman.
“Doctor Munro, senior registrar,” he said introducing himself.
“How’s
