Surprised, he looked across at Olin, who signalled to him.
‘He’s not pretty,’ the intern said grudgingly, as if he were jealous of sharing his world of horrors with any outsider.
He lifted the blanket.
Anita looked for a long moment at the dead, swollen face. She seemed to go suddenly limp, and O’Brien went quickly to her side, taking her arm. He turned her away, so her back was to the body on the stretcher.
‘What happened to him?’ she asked, her fingers digging into O’Brien’s wrist. ‘He had only two more years to serve. He wouldn’t have run away.’
‘What is this?’ Olin said, exasperated.
As he made a move to go to her, Dallas pulled him back.
‘Let me talk to her,’ he said urgently, and before Olin could stop him, he was at Anita’s side.
‘He was kidnapped from prison,’ he told her. ‘They wanted to find out where he had hidden the Chittabad collection. Baird was paid to get him out of jail. It was Baird who killed him.’
She stiffened and pushed away from O’Brien.