Pain

by Adam Southward

  ‘Money?’

  ‘He’s not under investigation, Alex,’ said Laurie. ‘We’re not examining his bank accounts. The purpose of this interview is to find out more about Dr King’s routine and his patients. Dr Tau is not a suspect.’

  Alex sighed, leaning against the wall.

  ‘What is it?’ Laurie came closer, examining his face. Alex caught a whiff of her perfume.

  ‘What did Hartley tell you about our previous cases?’ he said.

  Laurie shrugged. ‘Not much. Enough.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Such as . . . you tended to work on the bizarre and the macabre. Unexplained motives, actions. The limits of the human mind. Her words, not mine.’

  Alex nodded.

  ‘But I expect you’re also useful in other ways.’ Laurie wiggled her eyebrows. The mischievous smile was back. At least she wasn’t angry with him.

  ‘My biggest case involved the medical profession,’ said Alex. ‘A group of doctors abusing their power, experimenting on patients. Children. The results were . . . horrifying.’

  Laurie nodded. ‘Victor Lazar? I read about it, although most of the case was restricted by the CPS. Most of us assumed some high-level screw-up.’

  Alex shook his head. ‘Not exactly. But it brought back memories. I’ve been mulling this over for days. We know our suspect is targeting hospitals – and not just to get at the patients. She’s looking for something.’

  Laurie nodded, smiling as Alex once again stated the bleeding obvious.

  ‘And Dr Tau is nervous. I don’t think he’s nervous because his colleague died. I think he’s nervous for some other reason.’

  Laurie kept nodding but waved her palm for him to continue. ‘Such as . . .?’

  Alex huffed.

  ‘Did that huff mean you’ve worked it all out?’ said Laurie. ‘Or did it mean you have a hunch and nothing more?’

  Alex shook his head. ‘Hunch,’ he said.

  Laurie sauntered back to the office door. ‘In that case . . .’

  They both stood opposite the desk. Laurie thanked Dr Tau for his time and said they’d be back in touch again. Once more the relief was palpable on his face.

  Alex cast his eyes around the office before they left. He spied that one of the filing cabinet drawers was open a few inches. Had it been open when they first arrived? His eyes darted around the room, landing on a brown leather messenger bag next to the desk. It too was open, with the flap thrown over several blue folders.

  Alex stared back at Dr Tau, who shuffled in his seat, trying not to make eye contact.

  ‘Goodbye, Dr Tau,’ said Alex as they left, Tau’s sweaty palm leaving a distinct impression as he and Laurie walked along the corridor towards the exit.

  ‘Coffee?’ Laurie exited the lift and stared at the signs on the wall. ‘I could do with ten minutes’ downtime. There,’ she said, ‘this way.’

  Alex agreed, surprised at the invitation. Laurie was normally racing from place to place. He fell into step beside her.

  ‘Sorry,’ he offered.

  ‘No problem,’ said Laurie. ‘I guess it doesn’t hurt for these people to get a dose of fear sometimes.’

  Alex was intrigued. ‘That was loaded.’

  Laurie laughed. ‘No. Just these doctors think they’re above everyone else.’ She glanced at Alex, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. ‘Present company excluded, obviously.’

  Alex glanced at Laurie as they walked. Her manner was unique – quirky, but still professional – and he found it invigorating. She was friendly, flirty perhaps, although Alex didn’t know her well enough to judge. Maybe she was like this with everyone.

  Alex had already figured out a few things about her, though. She tended to hide her intentions. She distracted people, including him, with small expressions and comments, her face radiating warmth one minute and sarcasm the next, although she was never hostile. Behind her pleasant façade Alex could sense her mind whirring, racing along at breakneck speed. She was intriguing. Alex was glad of the chance to get to know her a little better.

  ‘Careful,’ she said as they approached the coffee shop counter. ‘You’ll walk into someone.’

  Alex tore his eyes away from her, suppressing a smile.

  ‘My round,’ he said.

  ‘Obviously,’ said Laurie. ‘You can expense it through that lucrative private practice of yours.’

  Alex narrowed his eyes. ‘Obviously,’ he said, still smiling.

  They took a table at the far end of the café near the window. It overlooked the streets outside. Several floors up, it was easy to get lost staring at the people and vehicles swarming below, thousands of Londoners going about their business. Most of them legitimate, a few criminal. Out of those, a few were the nastiest specimens society could offer.

  ‘I wonder if she’s down there,’ said Laurie. ‘One of those, looking up, planning her next gig.’

  ‘I hope not,’ said Alex. He wanted to make a joke, keep it light, but he kept seeing visions of the young woman on the pathologist’s table, tortured and murdered in her prime. ‘I hope not,’ he repeated, sipping his coffee. It scalded his tongue and he winced.

  Laurie sniffed, leaving her own cup on the table.

  ‘Do you see your family much?’ she said.

  The question startled Alex. He’d been hopeful of finding out more about Laurie. He hadn’t banked on her starting the questions.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Lots.’ He thought about it. ‘Not as much as I’d like. I’m divorced. One daughter, Katie.’

  Laurie nodded. ‘Hartley told me.’ Alex wondered whether that was quite appropriate. He guessed it was standard for the police to talk about these things. He was in a position of trust with them, after all.

  ‘I ask,’ said Laurie, ‘because these cases hit officers hard. They relate to their families. Death and suffering become visible, present and real.’

  Alex nodded. So true. Was she telling him how hard it was hitting her? Was she asking for help?

  ‘Parents?’ said Laurie. ‘Sorry, I mean, I know about your dad, Rupert. What about your mum?’

  Alex paused. A personal question, but OK. His father’s death at the hands of Victor Lazar wasn’t a secret, but it conjured a mixture of complex emotions in Alex. He and his dad hadn’t been close, and he was one of the people Alex had thought of when talking about the abuse of power. His dad had committed the ultimate betrayal in his position as a psychologist – but in return had paid the ultimate price.

  ‘My mum’s in a home,’ said Alex. ‘She needs 24/7 care.’

  Laurie nodded, and Alex noted a change in her. The jokey exterior had faded. She looked serious, deep in thought.

  ‘But I see her when I can.’ Alex felt compelled to fill the silence. A classic detective’s tactic, although he knew it didn’t apply here. Laurie looked troubled, distant.

  ‘What about you?’ said Alex. ‘Married?’

  He glanced at her hand as he waited for the answer. She wasn’t wearing a ring. Should it make a difference?

  ‘Nope,’ she said, staring at her coffee. ‘Divorced too.’

  Alex’s heart thumped, but he wasn’t sure why. Laurie was nice, friendly, professional, pretty . . . Alex bit his bottom lip and turned away. He was not heading down that road. Not today.

  ‘Cheers,’ he said, raising his scorching coffee. ‘To being single.’

  Laurie smiled, but it was forced. Her history haunted her, that much was obvious. Judging by her expression, prying into it now wasn’t the right thing to do.

  Alex tried his coffee again, concerned about Laurie’s sudden change in mood, a different side to her emerging.

  ‘It’s hard not to think about those close to you when you witness such atrocities,’ he said. ‘We all have our ways of detaching.’

  He thought of his jacket pocket and the small packet of benzodiazepines nestled there, night and day. Alex coped by drugging himself. He wondered how Laurie coped, other than through jokes and distra
ctions.

  She nodded and looked as if she was about to say something, but turned away. Pausing, she then turned back, with a wide smile. It look forced.

  ‘Good coffee,’ she said, taking a gulp, almost spitting it back out. ‘Still too hot,’ she said, fanning her mouth. At the same time her phone buzzed in her pocket. She read the screen and huffed.

  ‘Report due,’ she said. ‘Time to go again.’ She put the lid back on her cup. ‘Takeaway?’ she said, standing up.

  They both headed to the same parking lot.

  ‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ said Laurie as they separated by the ticket machine. ‘In the meantime, you need to leave the doctor alone.’

  Alex nodded. He stared past her, deep in thought.

  ‘I mean it, Alex. Don’t stir up a bunch of complaints. You have your theories, but I need evidence, OK? Remember who our suspect is. Clue – it’s not one of the doctors.’

  ‘You’re the boss,’ said Alex as she walked away.

  Alex hung back, waiting until Laurie was out of sight before heading back inside. He strolled through reception with his head down, slipping into the first empty lift, his foot tapping impatiently as the floors swept by. He felt bad for going against Laurie’s instructions, but she’d forgive him if he turned up a lead. Dr Tau’s behaviour warranted further inspection. Laurie might not be willing to do it yet, but she was bound by official process. As long as Alex was careful, he was within his rights to be here.

  He hoped he wasn’t too late, and as he stepped out, he saw that luck was on his side. Dr Tau was rushing towards him, bag swinging by his side, coat slung over it. The man was leaving in a hurry.

  The doctor stopped short in the corridor. The bag hit his leg, his coat slipping to the floor. He grabbed it, scowling.

  ‘Dr Madison,’ he said, forming a pained smile. ‘Forgotten something?’

  ‘As it happens . . .’ said Alex, and then paused. He thought carefully about what to say. He’d rushed back up for a confrontation, but now that he was here, he struggled to form the questions. A straight confession was unlikely.

  ‘I’m busy,’ said Tau, moving towards Alex and the lift, his chin jutting forward. ‘I told you that already. If there’s nothing more—’

  ‘Is it worth it?’ Alex blurted it out. He could leave the soft approach for the police. Alex was sure Tau was hiding something. His involvement in the chain of events was not as an innocent colleague, Alex was sure of it.

  He watched Tau closely. The man was a practised liar, that much was certain, but Alex’s experience won out – the man’s body remained firm, but his face betrayed him. Alex was right: Tau was guilty. But of what?

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Tau, his voice almost a whisper.

  ‘The trials,’ said Alex. It was a guess, but he saw the flicker in Tau’s eyes. ‘What were they? What were you trying to achieve?’

  Tau swallowed. His gaze faltered, but he recovered quickly. Obviously a man used to being in charge and unused to being challenged, he found this questioning an insult.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said, stepping past Alex, ‘I’m leaving.’

  ‘Are you next?’

  Alex wished he hadn’t said it, but it tumbled out, tangled up with memories of his father, of his arrogance and delusion. His father had thought he could play God and get away with it. He’d believed there’d be no consequences. And how wrong he had been: killed for his mistake. Alex saw the same look in Tau’s expression now: an incredulity born out of a lifetime of privilege and superiority. Tau considered himself elite and untouchable, and Alex knew the man would not explain himself.

  Alex found himself stepping forward, an anger boiling up from his stomach, the anger that had simmered since the revelation of his father’s guilt and everything that had come before.

  ‘Tell me what you did,’ he said, stopping within a foot of Tau, leaning in, their faces inches apart. He smelled Tau’s breath, stale and stressed. The doctor’s face was clammy, but his eyes were defiant. ‘Your actions led the killer to this hospital,’ said Alex. ‘Your actions killed your colleague.’

  Alex knew he was out of line, his theories running way ahead of the evidence, but it was all he could do to stop his fists balling and lashing out. He resisted only because of the consequences for Laurie and the case. Talking was one thing, but Alex must hold it together. His father had ruined a decent chunk of Alex’s life while alive. He wouldn’t continue to ruin it after his death.

  Tau flinched, his gaze darting over Alex. He moved back a step, then another. Apparently sensing Alex wouldn’t follow, he squared his shoulders and straightened up, stepping into the lift.

  ‘Goodbye, Dr Madison,’ he said. His stare was icy, though as the doors closed Alex saw a flicker of uncertainty.

  Alex let him go, leaning against the wall of the bright corridor, struggling with his frustration. He still had so little information, yet the sense of familiarity was growing.

  As his anger settled down, his rational brain began to spin. What had Dr Tau done, and what had gone so horribly wrong?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  More than dreams. More than suspicion. The surgeon had revealed his recognition of her and the papers she’d stolen from the filing cabinet had revealed more. The first name in the black book was a lost soul, just like her, although clearly not in possession of the same desires. The old lady’s story was brief, but her words hammered Mia’s memories into the fore. Kim Norris had been promised relief from her pain but had never received it. What then did that mean for Mia? What had the surgeon offered her, and why was she now cast out with her vicious and unrelenting urges, while the doctors withdrew and pretended they didn’t know her?

  If only Mia had been able to control herself. But it was too delicious, too immediate. Mia had apologised, but the woman’s pain was irresistible and Mia had taken it from her. Kim was elderly and didn’t struggle. Mia watched her eyes and saw a flicker of relief near the end. Mia had done what the surgeon couldn’t, permanently and without malice. The comedown was fast and gut-wrenching, but Mia dragged herself up and kept going.

  She had a lead, a source of the truth, perhaps. Her mind whirled in confusion, but her motivation was clear. She held the black book in one hand and a map in the other, shivering at the side of the road, crouched against a brick wall, waiting for the shudders to subside.

  North London, more wealthy suburbs. Mia stared at the cherry tree blossom in the front garden, the neat lawn bordered by lavender. The driveway held a silver Mercedes. Mia watched her reflection in the car window as she crunched through the gravel towards the front door.

  The porch was grand with white pillars on either side of a red-tiled floor. The sash windows to the right were ornate, the woodwork freshly painted, the glass clean. Shutters stopped her seeing through into the room.

  Three knocks. They thundered through the house but also through Mia’s head. The sound caused ripples of unease in her gut, ominous and menacing.

  As soon as the door creaked open Mia lunged inside, pushing the occupant of the house away from it and into the hallway. She kicked the door closed behind her before she’d had a chance to look at them. When she did, she found herself face to face with a tall wiry man with a full head of grey hair and gold-rimmed glasses. His eyes were wide in shock at the intruder, his hands raised to protect himself.

  ‘What on earth?’ he said, in a deep and controlled voice. He was well spoken, cultured.

  ‘Do you know me?’ asked Mia. She stood, ready to strike him, her right fist clenched. ‘Did you treat me? At your hospital?’

  The man peered at her, still in a state of shock. He swallowed, his throat jumping. He shuffled backwards.

  ‘Don’t move,’ said Mia. ‘Not until you answer me, Dr Willis. I know who you are.’

  ‘I . . . No, I don’t think so.’ The doctor’s voice remained controlled, even though his body was tense, his fight-or-flight response on the verge of being triggered.

&nbs
p; They stared at each other. Mia glanced over at the wall, found the light switch and flicked it on. A chandelier bathed both their faces in light.

  Mia leaned forward. The man backed up, his footsteps soft on the dark hardwood floor. He pushed against the banister, which creaked in protest.

  ‘My pain,’ whispered Mia. ‘Did you take away my pain?’

  She saw it in an instant. The doctor’s eyes gave him away and his jaw dropped with a gasp. He emitted fear, a mixture of pheromones and sweat, the latter beading on his forehead. His body posture changed, his arms sagging and his shoulders drooping. Mia inhaled, feeling the change in the man’s body as he struggled to contain his reaction. But there was no fooling her. Mia’s capacity for reading people was unparalleled. She lapped it up, waiting for his reply.

  ‘I . . .’

  ‘You recognise me,’ said Mia. ‘You.’ She brought her right hand to his throat, grabbing his windpipe, digging her fingers in. He struggled in response, clutching her arm, but he was weak and she was full of fury.

  ‘Stop!’ Mia shouted, to herself, not to the doctor. Releasing her hand, she gulped as the man’s pain became raw and alluring. This wasn’t why she’d come here. She wanted answers, not a fix. No matter how hard it might be, Mia knew she must resist again, for as long as possible.

  She grabbed his hair and pulled. His head bowed and he went down on his knees.

  ‘If you don’t answer me, I’ll kill you,’ she said, hoping the threat would be enough. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she pulled out a small penknife. Flicking it open, she pressed the blade flat against his throat, standing over him.

  The doctor’s voice lost its confidence. Raised an octave, it whimpered. ‘Please,’ he begged. ‘I have a family. I’ll give you whatever you want.’

  Mia paused. Family. She had a family. Didn’t she? The people in the car? Her mother, she was almost sure, except that it was a dream, no more. The driver, in her more imaginative moments, was her father. A loving father who protected his little girl, drove her around London in a luxury car, perhaps heading home to a house just like this one, with a grand porch and wood flooring and sash windows. Perhaps Mia had had all of this.