The Doctor

by Lisa Stone

  Crossing the road again, David worked his way back towards Emily and Ben’s house. The last house was their immediate neighbour, Amit Burman, whom he’d seen going in and out of his shed. It was nine o’clock now and as David opened their front gate and began down their path he could see why Emily hadn’t taken to the couple. Their house was dark and inhospitable, creepy almost, compared to the others in the street where lights shone out and televisions could be seen glowing in front rooms. The opaque film covering the windows didn’t help, neither did the tall shrubs and trees at the front that hid the street lamp. The CCTV gave him the feeling that he was being watched. Ben had said the man’s wife was ill and virtually housebound, so he was hoping she might have seen or heard something.

  He pressed the bell on the security grid and waited, expecting someone to speak into the intercom. The house remained in darkness, although he had the feeling someone was in. He pressed the bell again. No light came on, but suddenly the door opened and Amit Burman stood framed in the dark hall. ‘Yes?’ he demanded ungraciously.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m David, Emily King’s father. She lives next door.’ He paused, expecting an acknowledgement, but there was nothing beyond a narrowing of his eyes, which he found unsettling. They were different colours. ‘You may not be aware of this, but Emily is missing. She left some time during the afternoon or evening of the 27th of December and hasn’t been seen since. The police are doing what they can, but obviously we’re all very concerned for her safety. I’ve been knocking on neighbours’ doors and asking if they saw or heard anything.’

  ‘And have they?’ Amit asked.

  It wasn’t the response David had been expecting and he struggled to hide his dislike of the man. ‘No, but I was wondering if you or your wife saw Emily that day?’

  ‘No. We didn’t.’

  ‘Would it be possible to ask your wife? I’m sorry to trouble you, but it’s very important, and the police aren’t doing an awful lot.’

  His green eye seemed to shine. ‘She’s in bed, she’s not well. I can’t disturb her now.’

  ‘Perhaps you could ask her when she wakes? It’s possible Emily and she talked.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ he demanded.

  ‘Neighbours do. Sometimes they become friends. Emily was – is – a warm, caring person who reaches out to people. She has many friends.’

  ‘Good. Well ask some of them where she is. She wasn’t friends with my wife. Sorry I can’t help you. Goodnight.’ The door closed as abruptly as it had opened.

  ‘Arsehole,’ David muttered. No wonder Emily disliked him. What a shit!

  As he returned down their path, he gave the middle finger over his shoulder, hoping Amit Burman would see it on their CCTV.

  ‘Your neighbour’s an arrogant bastard,’ David said as he entered the living room. Ben was there alone.

  ‘Amit Burman? He’s a doctor, an anaesthetist, I think,’ Ben said.

  ‘I wouldn’t want him near me on the operating table. He was curt to the point of being rude. His eyes are different colours. It’s very weird talking to him.’

  ‘Em said that. I don’t really know him. We just call hello on our way in or out. I told the police he saw me leaving on the 27th. I wonder if they spoke to him?’

  ‘He didn’t say. Probably not. Pity his poor wife. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d have the patience to look after her.’

  ‘That’s what Em said too.’ Ben sighed.

  ‘She was always a good judge of character – I mean is.’ David ran his hand over his eyes. ‘Tomorrow I’ll knock on those doors where I didn’t get a reply. I’m not sure what else I can do. Did you message that guy on Facebook?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll check later to see if he’s replied. Em hasn’t used her Facebook since the morning she went missing.’

  ‘That’s not good, is it? Do the police know?’

  ‘I would think so. They’ve had her laptop and tablet. I can have them back now. There was nothing on them that could help.’

  ‘Pity we don’t have Emily’s phone. It might have told us who she was last in contact with. Anyway, it’s been a long day, I’m going to join Pat and have an early night. Are you going to sleep in your own bed now your parents have gone home?’

  ‘No, I couldn’t, not without Em. I’ll stay down here on the sofa and listen for the front door.’

  ‘OK, but try to get some rest.’

  Chapter Fifty

  ‘Dad!’ Emily screamed. ‘Dad, I’m here!’

  ‘Don’t, he’s gone, honestly. I heard the front door close,’ Alisha said, trying to calm her.

  ‘And you’re sure it was him?’ Emily asked through her tears.

  ‘Yes, I heard him say David, Emily King’s father. My hearing is sharper than yours.’

  ‘Please let him come back. Dad, please,’ Emily begged, and wrapping her arms around herself, she shivered uncontrollably. Fear and no food or heating resulted in them all being cold most of the time. Eva was in bed fully clothed and had stopped asking for something to eat. Without meals and her medication, she seemed to be fading fast. ‘Dad, please come back,’ Emily said, more quietly, almost as a prayer, and wiped her eyes. ‘They’re so close, my parents, Ben and Robbie, yet so far away. What are we going to do?’

  ‘There is nothing we can do,’ Alisha said, defeated and too weak to think.

  ‘I can’t bear the thought of never seeing my family again,’ Emily said and fresh tears formed.

  ‘Perhaps your father will come back?’ Alisha offered. But they both knew that was unlikely, for he had no reason to.

  ‘Supposing we pretend you’re very ill?’ Emily suggested. ‘Amit still seems to want to keep you alive for now.’

  ‘I don’t think he’d be worried if I was ill. That time has passed. This is about Amit achieving something others have not and taking care of himself. Once he’s finished with us we’ll end up in the woods just as those poor animals did.’

  ‘I won’t let him take me without a fight,’ Emily said, trying to find her courage. ‘At some point he’s going to have to come in here and get me. I’ll kick, bite and claw at his eyes. If you help me, we might stand a chance. It will be our last chance.’

  Next door, Ben lay on the couch in the living room, unable to sleep or even doze. His laptop and phone were on the floor beside him, and despite the volume being on and alerts set, he was still checking his phone every ten minutes. There were no calls or texts from Em and no reply from Greg. Hardly surprising, it was 2.20 a.m. But Em had her phone with her. Why hadn’t she called or texted just to say she was all right? She must know how worried they’d all be. All the years they’d spent together must count for something. They couldn’t just disappear. She must have some good memories of that time. Of Robbie. But how she could have made the decision to leave if she’d been in her right mind was something Ben was still struggling to accept. It was what the police and his parents believed. Em’s parents had doubts, but they were saying less about the reasons for her disappearance and were concentrating on practical matters. Pat was looking after Robbie, and David had been out knocking on neighbours’ doors. Not that that had produced anything.

  Ben checked his phone again. Still nothing. As David had said, it was a great pity they didn’t have Em’s phone, it would have shown them who’d she’d been in contact with before she’d gone missing, and possibly even led them to her. But Em was never separated from her phone, ever. As well as texting, making calls and accessing social media, she had news and weather alerts set up, and also did her banking on her phone. Banking. When he’d checked her bank account, he’d used her password. Ben sat bolt upright, senses alert. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner? Her login details for her mobile account would be on that list of passwords, so he should be able to check her phone account online to see the numbers she’d been calling.

  Standing, he went swiftly and silently upstairs and into his bedroom. Everyone else was asleep. He took the
folder containing Em’s passwords from the drawer and returned downstairs. He closed the door to the living room so he wouldn’t disturb anyone and switched on the lamp. Sitting on the sofa, he opened his laptop and brought up the website of Em’s mobile phone provider, then entered her login details from the sheet. A page offered various options including downloading her latest bill. That’s what he needed.

  He tapped the icon, his mouth dry and his heart drumming loudly. A long list of calls appeared. She was billed on the 30th of every month. He scrolled up to 1 December, the start of the current bill, and began going through the telephone numbers she’d called. Most were part of her call package, but a few had incurred additional charges. Somewhere in here was the answer, he felt sure; one of these numbers was Greg’s, or the guy she’d gone off with – if that is what she’d done. But which one?

  Scrolling up and down, he discounted those numbers he recognized: his mobile, their parents’ landlines and mobiles, her work number and a few joint friends. It was impossible to know who the others were – a long list he’d have to work his way through. In the end it might turn out to be nothing, a waste of time, but somehow he didn’t think so. Surely it made sense that Em would have phoned whoever she was planning to run off with?

  Creating a blank Word document, he began copying and pasting those numbers he didn’t recognize. There were dozens of them and by 3.30 a.m. he had filled the page. Now he needed to sort them into descending order, with those Emily had called most frequently at the top. They were the most likely, he thought. He logged out of the phone provider’s website and studied the list. A few numbers stood out. It was too early to start calling them – or was it? He wouldn’t be able to sleep, and presumably those who didn’t take night calls would have their voicemail or answerphones on. But first he’d check Facebook again – it was becoming obsessive – but there was still nothing from Greg or Em.

  Returning to the list, he entered the first mobile number. He thought it was more likely that Em and the guy had been in touch through their mobiles than landlines as it would allow them privacy. It went straight through to voicemail. Hi this is Sophie Morgan, please leave me a message. Sophie Morgan was a good friend of Em’s. He didn’t leave a message and crossed her off the list.

  He keyed in the next mobile number. You have reached the voicemail of Hana Gibbons. Leave a message and I’ll call you back. Another friend of Em’s. Again, he didn’t leave a message and crossed her off the list.

  And so he continued down the list of mobile numbers. Some phones were switched off completely with no voicemail service and he made a note to call them again in the morning. As he neared the bottom of the list – those Em had only called a few times – he got through to the voicemails of businesses, including British Gas and a parcel delivery firm, but no sign of Greg, unless his was one of the phones that was switched off.

  Disappointed that his search hadn’t revealed anything, Ben began on the list of landlines. The first went through to the council’s answerphone. He remembered that Em had been calling them because they’d invoiced them twice for the same council tax bill and were now threatening legal action if they didn’t pay. Ben felt a stab or regret that he hadn’t been more supportive when Em had confided her frustration that no one at the council would take responsibility and sort it out.

  He dialled the next most called landline number and listened to it ring; no answerphone cut in. He was about to cut the call when an elderly woman answered in a fragile voice, ‘Who is it?’ Ben recognized Em’s great-aunt and felt guilty for having woken her.

  ‘I’m sorry, wrong number,’ he said and cut the call. At some point she’d have to be told Em was missing, but not now.

  He should really wait until morning before phoning the other landlines, he now decided. He didn’t want to disturb anyone else. Doubly disappointed that nothing had come to light, he returned his phone and laptop to the floor, rested his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Thoughts came and went. Horrible thoughts, the product of stress, fear, no sleep and anger. Yes, he felt angry. How could Em do this to him? He imagined what he would do to Greg – or whoever it was – if he ever came face-to-face with him.

  Em, get in touch please, even if it’s just to say you have gone for good. I can’t stand not knowing! It’s driving me mad.

  At some point, he must have dropped off, a fitful sleep fuelled by nightmares and macabre imaginings from which he was pleased to wake. He came to with a start. David was in the room.

  ‘Sorry, lad, I didn’t know you were still asleep. Pat’s giving Robbie his breakfast, do you want anything to eat?’

  ‘No.’ Ben struggled upright.

  ‘Coffee then? I’m making one for me.’

  ‘Yes please.’

  Instinctively, he reached for his phone. There was nothing from Em, but there was a text message inviting them to a New Year’s Eve party from joint friends. New Year’s Eve was tomorrow, he realized; the days were merging. He checked Facebook, but there was still no reply from Greg. Was that suspicious? Ben didn’t know any more.

  It was 8.30 a.m. so he could continue calling the landline numbers on his list, then he’d return to the mobiles that had been off during the night. The next landline number had a local code. It was answered immediately with a brusque, ‘Hello?’ A male voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

  ‘Hello, I’m sorry to trouble you, it’s Ben Johnston, I—’

  The line went dead. Strange, perhaps they’d been accidentally cut off. He pressed redial and after two rings it went through to answerphone with a generic message telling him his call couldn’t be taken at present and to leave a message after the tone. He hung up and dialled again with the same result. Very odd. There’d definitely been someone there the first time, perhaps someone who’d recognized his name and didn’t want to speak to him. But who? Greg? He lived locally. The voice had seemed slightly familiar. Had he ever spoken to Greg? Not as far as he knew, and with only a, ‘Hello’ to go on he couldn’t place it. He dialled a third time and, again, after two rings the answerphone cut in.

  David returned carrying two mugs of coffee and set them down on the table. ‘You OK?’ he asked Ben, sitting beside him. ‘I’m guessing you didn’t get much sleep.’

  ‘No, I’ve been working my way through this list of phone numbers.’ He tilted the laptop so David could see. ‘It was you who gave me the idea. I logged into Em’s mobile phone account and these are the numbers she called this month. I’ve been going through them, so far without any success. But something odd just happened. I called this number here.’ He pointed the cursor at the number he’d just called. ‘A guy answered and when I gave my name he hung up. I’ve called twice more and it’s going straight through to answerphone. I’m not sure whether to leave a message. His voice sounded slightly familiar, but I can’t place it.’

  ‘I’d leave a message, just give your name and ask him to phone. I can’t see you’ve got anything to lose.’

  ‘No, I guess you’re right.’ Ben took a sip of his coffee and was about to redial and leave a message when he suddenly realized why the voice had sounded familiar. ‘I think it was Dr Burman, our neighbour,’ he said, turning to David. ‘But why would Em be phoning their landline? She wasn’t friends with his wife.’

  David met his gaze. ‘How many times did Emily phone them?’

  Ben looked at the list. ‘Since the beginning of December, seven; there may be more in the previous months. I’d have to log into her account again to find out.’

  ‘Have your coffee and then check. I’m planning on knocking on those doors where I didn’t get an answer last night. I might call on your neighbour again and see if I can speak to his wife.’

  ‘What will you say?’ Ben asked, concerned. ‘I’m not one hundred per cent sure it was him.’

  ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll think of something.’

  Chapter Fifty-One

  ‘Shit! What the fuck?’ Amit stared at the phone as the answerphone reset for a third
time. Ben Johnston, his neighbour! What the hell did he want? He was sweating profusely now, despite the house being cold. Bile rose in his throat. Did Ben suspect him? Had the bitch’s father said something? But what could he have said? He’d answered his questions, told him his wife wasn’t friends with his daughter. He knew tact wasn’t his strong point, but he’d been civil to him, and he was sure he hadn’t given anything away. So why was Ben phoning him?

  Perhaps he shouldn’t have hung up like that. It had been a knee-jerk reaction. How the hell did he even get his number? It wasn’t in the telephone directory, and Ben hadn’t got the bitch’s phone – he had. Surely she didn’t use an old-style address book? No, young people didn’t do that now, they kept all their contacts in their phone. He was sure the bitch wouldn’t have kept an address book, but Ben had his phone number from somewhere, and why was he calling?

  Perhaps he should phone him back and ask him what he wanted? No, that was too risky. He might inadvertently say something, give himself away, and there was the chance Ben didn’t know who he’d been phoning and hadn’t recognized his voice. If he had, then wouldn’t he have used his name? Wouldn’t he have said, ‘Hello, Amit, I’m sorry to trouble you, it’s Ben Johnston’ or similar?

  He wiped the sweat from his forehead just as the phone rang again. He stared at it as the answerphone cut in. ‘Hi, it’s Ben Johnston, Emily’s partner. Could you give me a ring please. It’s important.’ There was a pause as if he might be about to add something and then the line went dead.