The Samsara Project by David Burgess (romantic books to read .TXT) 📕

time since you last had a date but believe me it’s nothing compared to when I last had a date.”
Tracy was nothing if not good with words.
“Tell you what John, let’s go out and have a nice meal. No flashy restaurant to impress, how about a good pub meal, couple of drinks, no pressure just two people out together enjoying each others’ company. At the end of the night, well we’ll take it from there.”
John thought for a moment, “Sure Tracy, that’s a great idea. I know this great pub, the foods really good and”
Tracy interrupted, “Sounds perfect John, let’s not leave it too long though, I’m not into phone sex, dating thing.”
“Me neither, give me a real woman any day” replied John. He then realised what he’s just said. “Tracy, I didn’t mean, I mean, I don’t expect.”
“John, relax, it’s OK. I know what you mean. By the way are you on your own? I just thought you might have someone with you.”
John looked over at the empty passenger seat. “It’s OK Tracy, you’re in the clear. I’m on my own.”
Without realizing it John was talking to Tracy for the next hour. She was such an easy person to talk to. It was as though he had known her for years. There were no embarrassing pauses in the conversation, no awkwardness. For the first time in years John felt alive. The call only ended because Tracy had to go back to work, and even then she was eight minutes late. For the first time since Pamela’s death John felt surprisingly relaxed about talking to another woman. “Perhaps,” he thought.
At the end of the call John was approaching the M6 – M62 junction at Warrington. The thought of meeting Tracy again brought butterflies to his stomach, his heart rate increased as did his breathing. He felt elated yet at the same time he felt scared. John laughed to himself as he remembered similar feelings when he was an awkward sixteen year old teenager getting ready for a first date. John had never expected to experience those feelings again as he thought they would only ever have been for Pamela. He had to admit, they felt good. John looked over to the passenger seat again. Pamela was sat there looking towards him, her eyes full of love. She smiled one of her sweet smiles, her lips a perfect frame for her pearl white teeth. She nodded, blew him a soft, gentle kiss and whispered over to him “I love you.” Then slowly, ever so slowly, she faded away.
The rest of the drive into Liverpool was straightforward and uneventful. John arrived at the Liverpool University School of Forensic and Scientific Medicine just over three hours and eighteen minutes after he left. Thanks to a very helpful parking attendant John found a free car parking bay in the school’s car park. John walked into the impressive red sand stone Victorian building situated in the Edge Hill district of Liverpool.
The School of Forensic and Scientific Medicine had accepted its first students only six years previously and was mostly funded by various research grants. It was located in what had been a rundown area of the city and not too far away from the scene of the Toxteth riots almost thirty years ago. The school had rejuvenated the area as students from all over the world arrived to study Forensic Science at what was arguably the most modern and up to date university facility in the world. In what were once run down streets with nothing but boarded up and vandalised shops there were now smart upmarket wine bars, bistros and restaurants. Student service shops also sprang up selling everything from stationery to backpacking expeditions around the world. Banks and building societies tried to entice the students with a myriad of offers, each aimed at trying to get the students to open accounts with them instead of the competition.
Run down council housing had been taken over by housing management companies who had completely re-designed the housing stock and turned them into the most desirable student accommodation in the city. At night the area came alive with bright lights, colour and music from the four corners of the world.
Liverpool University and its partners had created a model of urban renewal and it was one that had generated interest from all over the world.
John walked through the revolving entrance way into the grand foyer of the school. Solid Italian marble floors and grand sweeping staircases were testament to the grandeur of the original building and thankfully the architects responsible for its renovation kept, and indeed, improved on the original design.
John walked up to the reception desk, “Can I help you sir?” asked a very pleasant girl with quite a distinct local accent.
“I am here to see Dr. Livingstone, my name is John Reynolds.”
“One moment please sir and I’ll see if he is free”.
John did not have to wait for the receptionist to call as a hand slapped him on his right shoulder. “John, it’s great to see you again. How are you, you OK?”
John and Dr. Peter Livingstone gave each other a hug and a few pats on the back for good measure.
“How was the trip up, everything OK?” asked Peter.
“Fine thanks, no problem at all.”
“Come through here,” said Peter opening a concealed flap in the reception desk. “Shareena, this is John Reynolds, my brother-in-law.”
“Nice to meet you sir,” replied Shareena
“Likewise,” answered John.
“John, by the way Shareena, is a hot shot London investigative reporter. So be careful what you say when he’s around.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” she replied.
Peter took John through to his office. “You hungry John, please say yes because I am starving?”
“In that case, yes and you’re buying.”
The two men made their way to one of the recently opened Bistros. “This place I highly recommend,” Said Peter, “I try to come here at least once or twice a week.”
The waiter showed them to a table by the window. “My favourite spot,” said Peter, “I love people watching. Have you ever studied body language John, people have no idea how much they say without speaking. We call it non verbal communication. It’s fascinating.”
“I can think of another word for it,” replied John mockingly.
“Not that kind of watching. Listen, before we get into the serious stuff. I’ve got a week’s holiday due to me and I was thinking of coming down to London so how would you like a visitor for a week?”
“Of course, you know you’re welcome any time. Just say when.”
”Next Saturday.”
“Look forward to it.”
“Good, that’s settled then. Now then what’s this mystery you need my help with? You hardly said anything about it on the phone last night.”
“I don’t know where to start really,” said John, “It’s a bit stupid really but I had no one else I could turn to that I trust enough to do this for me.”
“Do what exactly?” asked Peter.
“Remember Pat? From the museum”
“Yes, of course I do, any chance of meeting him next week? He’s a great character?”
“It’s really Pat you’ll be helping. The other day we were having at look at some of the museums blacker artefacts, and Pat being Pat there was the odd glass of single malt scotch on offer. Anyway, after a few glasses he knocked some of the samples off the table and he has no idea what sample goes with what. After a few days he thinks he’s got most of them sorted out, but, there are two he is not too sure of.”
“And they are?” asked Peter.
“Two blood samples from a serial killing that is still unsolved. That means that they could still be needed at trail, if there ever is one. You know the rules about evidence, that’s why this has got to be this way.”
“I think you mean underhanded,” said Peter
“The Met would go spare if they knew what he’d done. I really need your help Peter.”
He thought for a moment. ”What do you want me to do?”
“Pat has given me the two samples that he thinks are a match. He needs conformation. Could you do a DNA check to see if the two samples match? I know I’m asking a lot but there is no one else I can turn to and the old fool’s just a nervous wreck right now.”
“You realise what you’re asking?” asked Peter.
“I know …believe me. Look, if you can’t, for whatever reason, that’s OK. I’d understand.”
“You’re family John, I’ll take my chances. If I ask one of the lab students to run the test, I can tell them it’s a mock test. What is it again you are looking for?”
“I only want to know if it’s a match, that’s it.”
“You have the samples with you?” asked Peter.
“In the boot of the car, inside a cooler box,” replied John
Peter picked up a menu, “Now that’s out of the way, can we have lunch?”
After lunch John and Peter headed back to the school, via the car park. John pressed a button on his key fob and the boot clicked open. He took out the cool box and gave it to Peter. “I owe you for this,” said John.
“You do, and believe me, next week I intend to collect. What’s in here by the way?”
John explained to Peter what the samples were. Peter nodded, “Should be OK,” he said. “Should take about two hours for a preliminary match, which should be fine for what you want.”
John looked surprised, “I’d expected days, not hours.”
Peter put the cooler box down on the road. “Look around John, what do you see?”
John looked a bit puzzled.
“You don’t have to answer,” said Peter, “what we have here is the most technologically advanced DNA research facility in the world, bar none. We can do things here with DNA that science fiction writers haven’t even dreamed of yet. We can get a full DNA profile from a sample one ten thousandth the size of what was needed only five years ago to get the same results. Trust me John; your samples will be more than enough.”
Peter could see how relieved John was to hear that. “Come back in two hours. In the mean time have a look around this great city of ours. Look around the Albert Dock or take a trip on the river. Go and relax. I’ll take care of this.”
“Thanks again Peter, I mean it.”
“One thing John, remember just before when I was talking about reading peoples body language.”
”Yes”
“We do it all the time here, in fact we run courses on it for police forces all across Europe. They use it when questioning suspects. An expert reader is more accurate than a lie detector. Just so you know that I know”
“Know what asked John.
“The story about Pat and the samples, it was all a lie from start to finish. I do believe you need the results of this test, for whatever your reason. I’m sorry you can’t tell me why, but, I assume it must be important to you and for you. That’s why I’ll do it for you. You know that I’ll always help you if I can.”
“When I figure out what’s going on Peter, I’ll tell you, everything. ... Deal”
“I’ll see you in two hours. I just hope that whatever news I have is the news you want.”
“I hope so to,” said John.
Peter then picked up the cooler box and headed back to the school.

* * * *

Andrew was sat at his desk in the offices of ‘The