Shaking from the effort of concentration, she leaned against the wall. She saw the woman watching her and, afraid of what she might say to Hans, picked up the magazine and pretended to read. The words and pictures danced before her eyes, but resolutely she held the journal as the woman turned into the small alcove at the rear of the hut.
Coming back to the counter fifteen minutes later, the woman found her visitor slumped across the table, her hand resting against a sealed envelope that bore Hans Kasper's name. She picked it up and put it into her apron pocket before bending down to look at the girl. What she saw filled her with fear, and she hurried to the door, drawing back as it was flung open by a man and a woman. Within a second he saw the figure sprawled across the table and strode toward it.
"How long has she been like this?"
"A few moments. I was going to the cable car to call a doctor."
"I'm from the clinic." Phillip looked at Lesley. "We must get her back fast. She's unconscious."
The journey down the mountain seemed a never ending nightmare. Phillip had wrapped his parka around Deborah and was carrying her limp body in his arms, an anxious Lesley cradling the woman's head. By the time they reached the bottom, the clinic ambulance was waiting.
"I've an operation scheduled for this evening," Phillip said as he and Lesley climbed into the ambulance with the stretcher. "I'd appreciate it if you'd sit with her. Heaven knows what she's likely to say when she regains consciousness."
Lesley nodded agreement and he squeezed her hand, his grip a wordless indication of his tension.
It was several hours later when Deborah awoke, returning to normal with a speed Lesley found remarkable.
"What are you doing sitting here?" she asked coldly.
"Your husband asked me to stay with you."
"How touching of him!"
"Would you like something to eat?"
"No. Just leave me alone!"
Hearing the hysteria in the thin voice, Lesley rose and went to the sister's office.
"Have a nurse keep an eye on Mrs. Redwood."
"We always do. Is she on special drugs tonight?"
"Mr. Redwood will let you know."
"What about her sleeping pills? She usually has one at nine."
"Mr. Redwood's sure to be down from the theatre by then. You'd better have a word with him. But in the meantime, see if you can get her to take some broth."
Back in her own room, Lesley sank into an armchair and pondered her future. Her melancholy increased until she could no longer bear it. Phillip must be in his room by now—it was already ten. Perhaps if she spoke to him she might find it easier to decide if she should remain here or return to England until he was free.
Swiftly she went down to his rooms, her heart pounding as she kocked on the door. There was no reply and she turned away, then decided to see if Deborah was settled for the night. She was a few yards from the patient's room when she heard Phillip's voice coming from behind the closed door.
"Our marriage was finished years ago! You know that as well as I do."
"Then you should have given me my freedom years ago!"
"I thought I was doing what was best for you. Your father felt-"
"Don't blame my father! You could have done exactly what you wanted. But you didn't want to, did you? You listened to him because it suited you. Because you didn't want scandal. But now that you want to be free, you're willing to be magnanimous and give me the divorce I've been begging you for years. Well it won't work. I'm going to divorce you't"
"If you were harming only me I wouldn't give a damn. But you'll be destroying an innocent woman. Lesley never—"
"To hell with Lesley!" Deborah's voice rose to a shriek. "Nothing you say will stop me. If hurting her is the best way of hurting you, then that's exactly what I'm going to do!" The voice was lower now, ugly with venom. "For the first time since I've known you, you've played into my hands."
Afraid to hear any more, Lesley turned on her heels and ran.
Slowly the hours passed; she went to bed but sleep would not come. One o'clock… two… three.
With a sigh she pushed aside the blankets. The heat was unbearable and she padded over to the radiator and turned it off. Then she drew back the drapes, stopping in surprise when she noticed a shaft of light at the far end of the building. She counted the rows of windows. Surely the light was coming from Deborah's room? She couldn't be trying to leave the clinic again?
Hurriedly Lesley put on her dressing gown and went downstairs. Ignoring the night nurse whom she glimpsed in the sister's office, she ran along the corridor and into Deborah's room.
The light was on, but the woman was fast asleep.
Immeasurably relieved, Lesley bent to turn off the lamp, but as her finger was on the switch she paused, suddenly aware of the shallow way Deborah was breathing. She bent lower and listened. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. Straightening quickly, she tilted the lamp and shone it directly on the sleeping face. A glance was enough to confirm her fears.
"Mrs. Redwood, wake up!" Gripping the bony shoulders she pulled her into a sitting position. "Wake up, Mrs. Redwood!"
Deborah's head lolled forward and there was no response. Letting her fall back against the pillows, Lesley reached for the bell and kept her finger on it until the nurse rushed in.
"Fraulein Doktor! What's wrong?"
"A stomach pump. Quick. There's no time to lose!"
The nurse ran out and Lesley bent over the bed again, talking to Deborah in a loud voice and pinching her face and arms to try to obtain some response.
"Mrs. Redwood, wake up. Can you hear me? Wake up!" Once again, Lesley shook the limp little figure.
"Go 'way… tired______ " Deborah spoke unexpectedly, her eyes still closed, her voice slurred.
"Don't fall asleep!" Lesley pinched the thin arms again. "Wake up! Wake up!" She slapped the cool cheeks. "How many pills did you take?" There was no answer and she slapped the cheeks once more. "How many pills did you take? Mrs. Redwood, open your eyes, talk to me. Think about Hans. You love him and he loves you. Think about Hans!" With both her hands Lesley felt the thin body twitch, "How many pills did you take?" she repeated. "Try to remember."
"Ask Phillip. He gave me______ " The head dropped and
Deborah slumped forward.
Fighting back the fear that filled her, Lesley pulled Deborah into a sitting position. "What did you say about Phillip? Tell me again, Mrs. Redwood. What did Phillip do?"
"He… wanted me to… die_________ " Although the lids remained closed, Deborah was fighting to get out the words. "He gave… gave me pills… wants me die."
Her voice slurred away and Lesley straightened as the nurse entered, closely followed by the night sister.
"Have you called Mr. Redwood?" Lesley asked.
"He isn't in his room," sister replied. "The night porter said he went out a couple of hours ago. I've left word for him to be told the moment he returns."
Lesley was administering the stomach pump when Phillip appeared in the doorway.
"She can't have taken an overdose," he said at once. "She had only five milligrams. I gave it to her myself." He rolled up his sleeves. "How long have you been working on her?"
"Ten minutes."
His mouth tightened as he approached the bed and set to work. "This is going to be a very long night," he murmured.
For what seemed an eternity Lesley and Phillip remained by Deborah's bedside. All the resources of the clinic werfe called upon, but the battle they fought was a losing one.
At nine a.m., with the sunshine bright in a blue sky, the shadows finally closed around Deborah Redwood.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Late that afternoon, Sir Lionel arrived at the clinic. Lesley waited tensely for a call from him—as she had been the one to discover his daughter he would undoubtedly wish to talk with her.
Desperately she hoped the night nurse and the sister had not heard Deborah Redwood speak during the few moments she had
been coherent. There had been nothing on their faces or in their manner afterward to suggest they were aware of the damaging accusation that had been made against Phillip. But this did not alter the fact that an accusation had been made… and one so monstrous in its implications that Lesley recoiled from it with horror.
Yet suppose it was true? Was it possible that Phillip, a man who had dedicated his life to curing the sick, could callously end the life of someone who threatened him?
Yet there was more to it than that. Deborah's threat had not only been directed against his own future but against that of the woman he loved. Against herself, Lesley Forrest: a doctor who had fallen in love with the husband of her patient!
The husband of her patient! How ugly the words were and how guilty they made her feel! With a cry she sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands.
She did not know how long she remained like that, but the ringing of the telephone forced her into a semblance of calm, and Phillip's voice, coming over the line, restored it even further. He could never harm anyone, no matter how great the provocation.
"Sir Lionel would like to see you, Lesley. Would you come down?"
"Of course."
She was shaking when she entered Phillip's room, and the sight of Sir Lionel's ashen face in no way soothed her.
"I gather you were the last person to whom my daughter spoke," he said after a murmured greeting.
"Yes. But she wasn't… she didn't know what she was saying."
"You mean she was delirious?"
"Not quite. But she_______ " Lesley moistened her lips.
"She'd been out of the clinic during the day and she was still overtired… overwrought."
"Could you tell me exactly what she said? There seems no doubt she took her own life, but I'd like to try to find out why, if it had anything to do with this ski instructor. Did she mention his name to you?"
"No."
"Nor to me," Phillip intervened. He had changed into a dark suit and looked drawn but calm. "I spoke to her before she settled down for the night and she seemed in normal spirits."
Lesley gave him a startled glance, but he returned it unflinchingly; she was the first one to turn away. How could he lie so deliberately? And was he trying to save Sir Lionel from further hurt or was he protecting himself? She had not expected him to admit Deborah had been threatening the woman he loved, but she had certainly not anticipated he would Re so blatantly, either.
"I'd give a great deal to know what Kasper said to her when she met him on the Hernlei," Sir Lionel muttered.
"Would you like to talk to Kasper yourself?" Phillip asked.
"No! I wouldn't believe anything he told me, anyway." He heaved a deep sigh. "Will you arrange to have Deborah's body flown back to England? I'd like her to be buried with her mother."
"I'll see to everything," Phillip answered quickly, then looked at Lesley. "That will be all, Dr. Forrest."
He opened the door for her, and as she walked past him, he turned to Sir Lionel. "Excuse me a moment, sir. I want to have a word with Dr. Forrest about a patient."
Outside in the corridor he spoke swiftly. "I'm sorry you had to become involved in all this. The nurse had no right to call you last night. Axel was on duty and—"
"She didn't call me. I went to Deborah's room myself."
"What for?"
"I couldn't sleep and I was looking through my window and noticed her light was on. I went to see if anything was wrong and found her unconscious." She paused, then said "When was the last time you saw her?"
"Before I went to my rooms. We… we had an argument. I didn't see any point in telling Sir Lionel." Then, in an aside, he added, "I found it impossible to sleep. So eventually I got up and went for a walk."
Lesley bit her lip. It was ironic they should both have been sleepless.
"I must get some sleeping pills," he muttered. "Lying awake is a pointless exercise."
"Axel gave you some a few days ago."
"Did he?" Phillip frowned. "I must have mislaid them."
Lesley's heart began to race. "That's a… dangerous thing to do."
"They must be somewhere in my room," he said, shrugging. "I'll look for them later on. Don't worry."
"You should find them."
"Why all the fuss?"
Lesley swallowed hard, knowing that words, once said, could never be unsaid. "No reason. I suppose I was… thinking of your wife."
"For God's sake, don't blame yourself for what she did! Maybe Kasper told her the truth yesterday. If he did, it would account for her actions."
Inexplicably Lesley's eyes filled with tears, and once started, they wouldn't stop.
"Don't," he murmured huskily. "There's no need. Everything's going to be fine."
The words only made her tears fall faster, and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped her face. "You're overwrought, darling. Go and lie down."
Behind them they heard a movement, and afraid Sir Lionel would come out, Lesley turned and hurried away. Farther down the corridor she stopped and leaned against the wall. Her tiredness did not stem from her sleepless night but from the deep fear within her. She shivered and, with an effort, walked toward the lift. Something brushed against her foot and she looked down.
A small white box lay on the floor against the skirting board and she bent to pick it up. It was the box of sleeping pills that Axel had given Phillip. It must have fallen from his pocket when he had pulled out his handkerchief to wipe her eyes. With shaking fingers she lifted the lid.
The box was empty.
Keeping all her thoughts at bay, she slipped the box into her pocket and returned to her room. Only there did she allow herself to face the truth.
Phillip had lied to her.
He had said he could not find the pills, yet they had been in his pocket all the time. But no, that wasn't strictly true. He had cararied the box but the pills were not in it. Not one.
Feverishly she seized on the one possibility still left—that Axel had given Phillip only enough pills for a couple of days.
Without giving herself time to think she dialled Axel's number, lying with a fluency she had never thought herself capable of.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Axel, but can you send me up some sleeping pills. I could go down to the dispensary myself but I'm too exhausted."
"I'm not surprised," his voice was deep with sympathy. "I'll get them for you and bring them up myself."
Within moments he arrived, carrying a box identical to the one he had given Phillip. She took it from him and opened it.
"Why Axel, I only wanted a couple."
"I always give twenty. Only to doctors, of course," he added. "Never to patients."
She placed the box on the mantelpiece and spoke with forced calm. "I feel such a nuisance bothering you like this. I asked Mr. Redwood for a couple of pills but he didn't have any."
"Why should he?" Axel said stiltedly. "I've never given him any."
Lesley swung around. "You did! I was with him at the time!"
Axel shook his head. "You are mistaken. I gave him some aspirin."
"Aspirin?" she faltered.
"I have never given Mr. Redwood sleeping pills." His voice was grave. "That is what you wanted to know, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. You are in love with the Herr Doktor and you are afraid for him."
She was ready to deny what he had said until she saw the compassion in his eyes. "Is it… is it as obvious as that?"
"Only to me. But do not worry. I will never do anything to harm him. He is too great a surgeon."
"That only makes it worse." Agitatedly she caught Axel's arm. "How can you be sure that what we're doing is right? You took the same vows as I did when you qualified. Don't they mean anything to you?"
"As much as they mean to you."
"But we're condoning murder," she said brokenly.
"We cannot be certain."
" You think so."
> "I'm not sure," he replied. "But I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I will do everything in my power to protect a man who can save as many lives as Phillip Redwood… and he can, believe me. Remember that when your conscience troubles you!" He touched her shoulder and walked quietly from the room.
But though Axel might have found a way of quietening his conscience, Lesley could not do the same, and she knew she could not remain there. Yet if she left at once Phillip would want to know the reason, and that was one truth she was determined to keep secret. He must never know she thought him guilty of murder!
For the next few days she wracked her brains to find a logical cause to leave. But no matter how much she tried, nothing came to mind.
By the end of the week the postmortem on Deborah
Redwood had been completed and a verdict of suicide was announced. Sir Lionel and Phillip immediately made arrangements to fly to London for the funeral, and Lesley counted the hours until their departure.
So far she had avoided being alone with Phillip and he, because of his father-in-law's presence, had not sought her out. But even as she was thankfully accepting a further reprieve—for she had still not thought of an excuse for leaving—he telephoned and asked her to come to his office.
"It's better if we don't meet," she said. "Sir Lionel is here and—"
"It's normal for doctors to meet and talk about their patients." Phillip cut in. "I must see you alone, Lesley."
"I'm already in bed," she lied.
"I see." A deep sigh came over the line. "I've every intention of telling Sir Lionel about us, you know."
"You mustn't," she said quickly. "I know that you didn't… didn't love Deborah, but she was Sir Lionel's daughter. Think of his feelings."
"I wasn't planning to tell him tomorrow," he replied. "But I am going to do it before I return to the clinic."
"No," she repeated. "Don't say a word to him. Not yet. You can always fly over to London for the day and see him."
"Very well." It was a reluctant agreement. "Are you sure you can't slip a housecoat on and come down? I'll be away a week and——— "
He paused, waiting for her to say something. But try though she would, no words came.
Rachel Lindsay - Love and Dr Forrest Page 13
