I stood up then and crossed over to her. 'Jill,' I said. 'You're quite certain about those identification marks?'
'Yes,' she answered. She clutched my arm. 'That's not George then — is it? That can't be George if those marks aren't there.'
'No,' I said. 'That is not the body of George Farnell. It's somebody else's body.'
'But — but how did it get there?' Curtis asked.
I looked at him. Life had been such a very straightforward business for him. 'That man has been murdered,' I said.
'But Farnell's — papers were found on the body.'
'Exactly,' I said and glanced at Jill. Her eyes met mine and I saw that she had understood the point. I turned to Curtis. 'The body has been mutilated in such a way that it would be identified as Farnell's if the necessary papers were found on it.'
'But why?' he asked.
'What's it matter why?' Jill said. 'He's alive. That's all that matters.'
I looked at her and felt a deep pity. That was all that mattered, was it? For the moment, perhaps. But later…