Pain

by Adam Southward

  ‘Are you in?’

  ‘Yes. Katie’s at a friend’s.’

  Alex wasn’t sure if that was a hint to stay away. ‘Fancy a coffee?’

  A pause. ‘I have to go out in an hour or so.’

  ‘I won’t keep you.’

  A sigh. ‘OK. A quick coffee.’

  The journey from his office to Grace’s took twenty minutes. Alex raced through the traffic, cursing as he pulled up at a pedestrian crossing. A young mother and toddler started to cross. Halfway, the boy sat down in the road and started to cry. The mother, balancing two bags and a cuddly toy, struggled to pick him up. She glanced up, mouthing the word ‘sorry’ to Alex.

  Alex sat impatiently, tapping the wheel. His phone rang and he hit the answer button, willing the mother to drag the boy by his feet if she had to.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s me.’ Mikey’s normally cheerful voice was muted, serious.

  ‘Mikey. I’m in a bit of a rush, actually.’

  ‘I have something for you.’

  Alex paused, shifting his gaze inside the car. ‘What?’

  ‘This Nova AG of yours. I tapped a few more contacts. Most had never heard of it, or at least pretended that way. One was a little more open. I think he’d had a run-in with them in the past. He says Nova is major organised-crime territory. Syndicates, global reach, political involvement. “Mafia shit” is what he said.’

  Alex felt the adrenaline surge. ‘And?’

  ‘Don’t get involved was the advice I was given. They’re not a group you want to mess with if you value your life, your family and your friends.’

  Alex valued all of those, but he wasn’t planning to mess with Nova. He was planning on letting the police do that.

  ‘Why did you call, Mikey?’

  A pause on the other end. ‘I have an old address for you,’ said Mikey. ‘If you insist, I’ll text it over.’

  Alex didn’t need to think about it. ‘I insist.’

  ‘Give it to your detective,’ said Mikey. ‘Don’t say where it came from. Don’t go there yourself.’

  Alex nodded. ‘Sure thing.’

  ‘I mean it, Alex,’ said Mikey. ‘I know some pretty shady characters – you make strange friends in the drug-running business – but this is another level. Give it to the police. Let them do what they will.’

  Alex saw his phone buzz as the text message came through. ‘Thanks, Mikey. I owe you.’

  ‘Don’t forget it,’ said his friend, then hung up.

  Alex felt his heart race. Finally, a lead that might give them some progress. A lead that might prove this wasn’t all about Mia, that the guilt belonged to more than just one person. He smiled at the dashboard as a horn blasted at him from the car behind. He looked up to see the road empty, the mother and son some distance along the pavement, merrily on their way. He gunned the engine and sped off.

  Alex rapped on the door and stood back, surveying the garden that used to be his. The lavender bushes were huge; he remembered planting them with Grace, trying to pay attention as she described the end result. She’d planned the garden landscaping front and rear, and her eye for detail had paid off.

  ‘Come in.’ Grace threw open the door and paused. She was dressed in a small blue summer dress, floral, mid-thigh, with detail around the neckline. Her hair was perfectly sculpted around her face, which was delicately made-up. Alex sucked through his lips.

  ‘Wow,’ he said, ‘you didn’t need to. We’re only having coffee.’ The joke masked his actual reaction, which was a burst of heart-thumping desire. He swallowed it away.

  Grace pulled a face. ‘You wish,’ she said, laughing. ‘I have a lunch date, actually. That’s why I’m going out.’

  Alex wanted to make a light comment about John, but the name stuck in his throat and nothing nice would come out. He choked it back. ‘Anywhere nice?’

  ‘Girly lunch,’ said Grace. ‘Seeing as the kids are all having fun, we reckoned we would too.’

  Alex felt better but knew he shouldn’t. Grace no doubt dressed up for her new man as well. The thought of it made him feel sick. ‘Coffee, then?’

  Grace led the way. Alex stared at her behind as she walked through the hall in her floaty dress. Inappropriate, no doubt, but he couldn’t help it, and Grace probably figured as much. She perched at the breakfast bar and invited him to make the coffee.

  ‘So, Mikey called me,’ she said. Alex paused, his heart in his throat. They knew each other, of course, but Grace had never known about Mikey’s role in his prescription drugs. Had he told her? Had he betrayed Alex? Why would he?

  ‘He said you had dinner, caught up.’ Grace tilted her head, her eyes bright and calm, not a hint of anger. ‘He told me you opened up a little,’ she said, ‘about your health. He seems to think you’re making progress.’

  Alex nodded, waiting for more before he confirmed or denied anything.

  ‘He said he was worried about you.’

  Alex filled the cafetière, watching the black liquid swirl into foam. Mikey shouldn’t have done that. He thought they had an understanding. ‘Did he say anything else?’

  Grace shrugged. ‘No, only that he cares, and it had been too long since we’d all had a drink together. Oh, and he said if I don’t marry anybody else, he’ll marry me.’

  Alex laughed before he could stop it. Mikey had always had a thing for Grace. It would be just like him to flirt a little. ‘Well, I’ll trust you to use your best judgement on that proposal,’ he said.

  Grace wiggled her eyebrows and smiled. ‘But seriously,’ she said, ‘he was always a good friend of yours. You should listen to him.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And what?’

  Grace huffed. ‘Christ, Alex, don’t be such a child. About getting help. Have you found somebody yet?’

  Alex didn’t want to lie outright, but the only thing he’d progressed since seeing her last was to secure another six months of benzos. He could hardly tell her that.

  ‘I’m making inquiries,’ he said. ‘It’s not as easy as all that. I have my career to think of. It has to be discreet.’

  Grace looked unconvinced, but she let it go. ‘Do it for Katie?’

  A direct stab to the heart, and she knew it. He poured the coffee, keeping his expression as non-committal as he could. He nodded. He’d do anything for them, he would. Why couldn’t he do this? ‘I’ll try,’ he said, taking a sip, realising he meant it. He wasn’t sure how it would happen or when, but those small words were significant.

  They drank and talked about Katie, a pleasant distraction from his mental health. Alex asked everything he could think of, and Grace answered. There were no secrets where Katie was concerned. Luckily for them both, she seemed to have her head screwed on and had fallen in with a decent group of friends. One less thing to worry about, he thought. At least one part of his life was stable.

  Grace sipped her coffee, smiling as Alex teased her about the amount of pink in the house since he’d left. It seemed to be everywhere. He made a mental note to talk to Katie about it.

  They laughed as the conversation tailed off. Silence followed, their eyes meeting. Grace chewed her lower lip, as she always did when she was apprehensive. She crossed her legs, causing her dress to ride up. Alex’s head spun at the sight and he found his breath shallow. How long had it been since he’d touched her? How long since they’d kissed, tearing each other’s clothes off? Once upon a time a dress like that wouldn’t have stayed on Grace for long. She was fiery and seductive when she wanted to be. Always in control, she’d lure Alex in and drive him crazy before telling him what she wanted. He would succumb in an instant, begging her for the inevitable. They’d make love for hours, resting only when Grace decided she was satisfied. Those days had been bliss, and Alex found himself struggling to tear his eyes away.

  When he did, he met hers again and found them sparkling but firm.

  ‘I think it might be time for you to go, mister,’ she said, slidi
ng off the stool. She paused for a moment, standing in front of him. She bit her lip again but shook her head. ‘Definitely time for you to go.’ Her face flushed and she backed away, leading Alex out into the hallway.

  Alex wanted to protest, to extend the moment, to scream that it wasn’t over. These silences, these moments. These things happened to people in love. These weren’t moments shared by exes who didn’t want to be together.

  But he didn’t.

  They hugged and pecked each other on the cheek.

  ‘I’m glad things are improving,’ said Grace, finding her voice. ‘I’ll support you. Anything you need, tell me.’

  Alex smiled, knowing that what he needed was the one thing he couldn’t ask of her. But it spurred him on. He drove off positive and in control. His love for Grace wouldn’t fade fast but he must give her the space she wanted and in the meantime try to move on himself. She had hinted that he should, and however much it hurt, he was determined to do it, if only to prove he’d listened.

  Putting his thoughts of Grace firmly back in their mental box, he reached for his phone.

  ‘This isn’t a date.’ Laurie sat opposite Alex at the restaurant. Alex had called and persuaded her to come for a drink, insisting it was to discuss the case. She’d protested with the usual degree of sarcasm but agreed. She didn’t have anything else planned that evening except cleaning the oven, so she said, but it was a close call between the oven and drinking wine with Alex.

  ‘Obviously,’ he said, pleased he’d taken the time to go home and change into an ironed white shirt and navy chinos. Laurie looked more casual than usual, in tight jeans and a top.

  ‘I like your hair down,’ said Alex. ‘It looks great.’

  Laurie blushed. She looked as though she was going to make a sarcastic comment but smiled instead. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘It’s a little long for work. Don’t want to get it stuck in blood, bodily fluids, bad guys’ fists, etcetera.’

  ‘Nice image.’

  ‘I try.’

  Alex poured them both a glass of Malbec.

  ‘But this isn’t a date.’

  ‘I get it,’ said Alex, watching Laurie’s infectious smile. ‘So how about we talk shop instead?’ He produced the address he’d been given by Mikey, careful to restrict any incriminating information. ‘He has a lot of contacts.’

  ‘With organised crime?’ Laurie looked puzzled.

  ‘Pharmacists know about the dodgy routes to market,’ said Alex. ‘They have to. This company is dodgy as hell.’

  Laurie nodded, shrugging. ‘So you want me to check it out?’

  ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t you?’

  Laurie looked troubled. She sipped from her glass, glancing around the restaurant, staring at several other patrons until they stared back. ‘I don’t know if I can.’

  ‘Why not?’ Alex tried to rein in his irritation. This was a lead. He knew Laurie was focused on finding Mia above all else, but the police couldn’t ignore the company or organisation behind this. ‘This is criminal activity,’ he said. ‘If they experimented on Mia, they’ve done it on others.’

  Laurie sighed. ‘I know. What I mean is, I can’t. I’m being pulled off the case. As from tomorrow.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  Laurie sighed, looking at him, her eyes full of puzzlement and fatigue. ‘I don’t know, Alex,’ she said. ‘Internal politics, management infighting. Perhaps I pissed off the wrong person.’ She shrugged and took a gulp of wine. ‘It happens all the time. I’m just a grunt in the hierarchy. They say, “Bullshit” and I say, “How much?”’

  Alex was shocked, saddened at the thought of being split up so soon from Laurie. ‘That’s it?’ he said. ‘They can do that – reassign you? We’re making progress. We know who she is. We know what motivates her. We have a lead on the organisation behind her condition . . .’ He trailed off, watching Laurie’s expression.

  ‘Not enough and not fast enough,’ she said. ‘The hunt will continue, Alex, but you’ll need to report to Hartley. I’ll send her the address but let her decide how to proceed. I’m done, so I’ve been told.’

  Alex didn’t know what to say. Laurie was clearly angry and frustrated. His venting wouldn’t help matters. He was sad for another reason too. It meant that whatever budding friendship they might have had was fading before it had properly started.

  ‘We can keep in touch,’ she said, as if reading his mind. They watched each other for a few moments, sipping their drinks, lost in their own thoughts.

  ‘I’d like that,’ he said, finishing his glass, checking the bottle. He glanced up. ‘Seeing as we’re here, do you fancy a bite to eat?’

  Laurie narrowed her eyes. ‘If you feed me and ply me with alcohol, you’ve only got yourself to blame for what happens.’

  Alex stifled a laugh. ‘I wasn’t intending to ply you with anything.’

  Laurie grabbed the bottle. ‘Then I’ll ply myself. Just keep your hands to yourself, Doctor. I’m far too much trouble, and you don’t want it.’

  Alex raised his hands in surrender.

  ‘Got it,’ he said. ‘You’re trouble.’

  He watched Laurie for a few more seconds before burying his eyes in the menu, wondering if this type of trouble, this distraction, was exactly what he wanted.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Time passed in a blur. Mia had no frame of reference. She woke periodically, always drugged and groggy, always staring up into the small white room with the dazzling lights and the stench of bleach.

  Her hands and feet remained strapped. Her makeshift splint had gone, replaced with a white cast. The doctors had fitted a catheter. She was fed and watered, like a zoo animal, she considered. Or like a prisoner.

  How many days had she been here? Maybe just one. Maybe a week. Her mind struggled.

  Mia craved answers but being here only raised more questions. Her memories were real and the people who created them were here, in this place. The doctor with the lightning scar – the man from her dreams – came and went, watching Mia but never speaking to her or touching her.

  Mia mumbled; incoherent pleadings. Her voice barely escaped her dry throat. Starting as a hiss, it erupted into screams until the doctors left the room. The scarred doctor’s expression remained fixed and unwavering. Did Mia observe sadness in his eyes, or was this simply a trick of the light?

  The suited couple didn’t return. The beautiful woman with the deep and complicated eyes preyed on Mia’s mind, but she remained elusive. Mia wondered if she was there, lurking in the background. Her eyes had been full of knowledge, yet she had seemed sad at seeing Mia. Or had it been disappointment?

  The room became smaller with each passing hour. Unrecognisable doctors and nurses checked on her at random intervals, keeping her off balance and agitated. The catheter was removed; her plaster cast remained. What were they keeping her for? What were they preparing her for? They left as soon as she asked.

  Mia tried to quell her anxiety. Her desire would be back. It always came back. She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw, concentrating on her chest rising and falling. Her muscles tightened and her mind spiralled.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Alex’s non-date with Laurie had ended without the trouble she’d promised. They’d parted at the taxi rank, rather inebriated but both sensible enough to call it a night. Alex promised he’d call. Laurie promised to pick up the phone if he did.

  He resisted the urge to call the very next day. He’d had a somewhat vivid dream about Grace, during which Laurie had appeared, hands on hips, giving him a sarcastic reprimand on his priorities. The images of both were burned into his consciousness and the anxious guilt wouldn’t depart, even with his morning Xanax. Two pills this morning.

  He knew he should take the time to unpick it but instead called Hartley. Not sure what to say, he knew he couldn’t rest. He felt loyal to Laurie, and progressing the case would help her.

  His thoughts were also with Mia, snippets of their meeting flashing into his consciou
sness. Alex had been face to face with several killers in his time, but very few had generated the feelings of sympathy Mia had. She wasn’t evil, far from it. She was desperate and out of control, crying for help. He needed to find her. She needed him. He still wasn’t convinced Hartley and the police would handle it in the way he wanted. Alex wanted Mia to have treatment, and more than that, treatment under his management. This was another career-defining moment for him: to leave behind the legacy of the Victor Lazar case and finally break away from his private practice – to make a name for himself not just catching but helping the people they caught. The police were necessary, but as an instrument for deciphering the minds of killers they were blunt. They went for the prize but didn’t stop to think about whether it was the right one. That was what Alex was there for, to temper their enthusiasm for the chase and focus on the real challenge – that these criminals were often created and could be cured. Those who created them should face justice. Society and science would learn something as a result.

  ‘Alex!’ Hartley’s voice snapped him out of it. She sounded harassed. A busy lady, she was still running several major cases, so he’d heard. He was surprised she’d answered the phone at all.

  Alex asked about the current status of the case. He tried not to sound too frustrated.

  ‘Detective Laurie may be back,’ said Hartley. ‘She’s good, but she’s been reprioritised. It happens.’ Hartley’s tone sounded final.

  ‘Back when?’ said Alex. ‘We identified the killer and we have a conspiracy of doctors who are responsible.’

  ‘So you say,’ said Hartley, her tone cautious.

  ‘You disagree?’ Alex wondered what Laurie’s handover report had said. ‘What about Dr Tau? He’s the last contact we have at the hospital and his disappearance is not a coincidence.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Hartley, ‘which is why my officers are pursuing inquiries as to his whereabouts.’

  ‘A warrant?’

  ‘We don’t issue warrants for prominent NHS doctors who haven’t committed a crime or been conclusively linked to one. Particularly a doctor who has friends outside my sphere of influence.’