The Doctor

by Lisa Stone

  Beth nodded sympathetically. ‘It must be very difficult for you all.’

  ‘That’s an understatement,’ David said. ‘What are you doing to find my daughter?’

  Ben appeared in the living room, unshaven and with dark circles under his eyes. He’d visibly aged and lost weight since the last time she’d seen him. ‘You’ve got news?’ he asked straightaway.

  ‘Not exactly, but I wanted to speak to you in case you saw the bulletin that will be going out later on the news.’ Ben frowned. ‘The body of a woman has been recovered from the quarry in Coleshaw Woods, but we are almost certain it isn’t Emily.’

  ‘Almost?’ Ben said, immediately anxious.

  ‘First indications from forensics are that she was in her late seventies or eighties but we’ll be able to confirm this once we have the autopsy report.’

  ‘How long will that take?’ David asked.

  ‘Allowing for New Year, two to three days,’ Beth said. David sighed. ‘But we’re not expecting it to be Emily,’ Beth reiterated. ‘I’ll contact you again as soon as we have any further news.’

  ‘Is that all you have?’ David asked bluntly.

  ‘For now, yes. I thought you should know.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ben said.

  ‘I’ve been knocking on neighbours’ doors asking if they know anything,’ David said. He looked as tired and unkempt as Ben, Beth thought. The strain a missing loved one placed on the whole family was enormous and far-reaching.

  ‘And did you find out anything?’ Beth prompted.

  ‘No, but I’ve been thinking,’ David said. ‘The neighbour on that side.’ He pointed. ‘Amit Burman, he has a lot of CCTV cameras. It’s possible one of their cameras might have captured Emily leaving or a car pulling up outside. Can you ask to look at their recording?’

  Beth hesitated. It was a big ask.

  ‘He’s the one who saw me leave for work the morning Emily went missing,’ Ben added.

  ‘If you’re too busy to view all the recording, perhaps we can have a copy to view here?’ David suggested.

  ‘You’d need your neighbour’s consent to do that because of data protection.’

  David sighed. ‘But you could ask to see it?’

  ‘Yes, I could,’ Beth agreed. His desperation was palpable. ‘I’ll go there now when I leave.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Beth stood. ‘I’ll phone when I have anything further. Take care.’

  As Beth walked from their drive, she saw Robbie with a woman she assumed to be his grandmother coming towards her. The child stopped outside the neighbours’ house and was peering through the gate as if he wanted to go in.

  ‘DC Beth Mayes,’ she said, going up to them. ‘Are you Pat King?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve just spoken to David and Ben, there’s no news yet I’m afraid.’

  Pat gave a small resigned nod, her sadness and despair obvious. ‘If Emily would just get in touch to say she’s OK. We won’t be angry with her. We just need to know she’s all right.’

  ‘I know,’ Beth sympathized. ‘I’m going in here to see if the neighbours’ CCTV picked up anything on the day Emily left.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Pat said. Taking Robbie’s hand, she tried to draw him away from the gate so Beth could get in, but he clung to it. ‘That’s not our house,’ she said and gently tried to move him again. He let out a sharp cry of protest. ‘He can be very strong-willed sometimes,’ Pat said apologetically.

  ‘I’m going in there,’ Beth tried, smiling at the child.

  Pat picked him up and Beth opened the gate. Robbie shrieked again.

  ‘Come on, your house is next door,’ Pat said and carried him off crying.

  Beth pressed the button on the security grid and waited. There were three CCTV cameras at the front of the house. David was right, there was a chance they would cover the pavement and some of the road outside the house. They appeared to be good-quality cameras, giving a wide-angled and clear definition. Whether they had recorded Emily leaving remained to be seen. If she had turned left when coming out of her house instead of right then she would be outside the range of the cameras.

  Beth pressed the bell again, waited some more, then, satisfied no one was in, took a business card and pen from her pocket, and wrote, Please phone. She signed it DC Mayes and posted it through the letter box. Most people responded to the card if only from curiosity. It was the best she could do for now.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Amit watched the police officer leave on the CCTV before he went into the hall to retrieve her business card. What the hell did she want with him? He was almost certain she was one of the two investigating officers who’d visited next door when the bitch had first gone missing. Please phone, she’d written on the card below the police station’s contact details. He might, but not for a few days. Once he’d finished with Emily; he was far too busy right now. New Year’s Eve had finally arrived and everything was back on course and going to plan. The bitch was tied up, ready to be taken to his lab after dark. He was certain Alisha wouldn’t help her or get in his way this time as she knew food and medicine for Eva would be stopped for good. Once he’d disposed of the bitch – he was thinking of the quarry again – he’d phone DC Mayes and see what she wanted. Always good to know what you were dealing with so you could stay one step ahead. Tucking her business card into his pocket, Amit returned to his study.

  Sunset was at 4 p.m. today, but he’d wait until closer to midnight before he moved her. It was his good luck, he thought, that there was no moon tonight, and the weather forecast was that the heavy cloud cover would continue overnight. He took another painkiller – the pains in his legs were getting worse – then set about checking his calculations one last time before going to his lab.

  When he came out, it was pitch-black and the neighbours’ curtains were all closed. In the distance he could hear some early revellers, already drunk and singing football songs. Amit carefully made his way up the path – he didn’t want to trip and fall again – and let himself in the back door, another syringe, phial of muscle relaxant and large black plastic dustbin liners at the ready. If any of his neighbours did by chance look out of their bedroom window when he was moving her – and it was a big if – all they would see was him dragging a big bag of rubbish to his shed. Nothing unusual in that.

  Inside the house, he went upstairs and then stopped outside Eva’s bedroom door, wiping his sweating palms down his trousers. It was all quiet inside the room and he filled the syringe. He noticed his hands were trembling, hardly surprising, he thought, considering the excitement he was feeling at what lay ahead. Sliding the bolt, he carefully opened the door and gingerly looked in to make sure there wasn’t another trap set. Everything was as it should be. On the far side of the room, Alisha was huddled with Eva on her bed, expecting more food and tablets, and the bitch was where he’d left her on the floor. He went over, checked the tape hadn’t been tampered with and raised the syringe.

  ‘Don’t!’ Alisha cried.

  ‘Shut up and stay where you are,’ he shouted.

  She buried her head in Eva’s shoulder so neither of them could see. Amit plunged the needle into Emily’s thigh and watched as the paralysis crept through her body. A final blink of her eyes and that was it. She was all his.

  Imprisoned in her paralysed body, Emily could only watch in horror as Amit spread two large heavy-duty dustbin liners on the floor. She tried to kick him but her legs wouldn’t move. Even her tongue was limp. Suddenly she was encased in darkness as he roughly pulled one of the bags over her head. Panic set in and she tried to cry out, but no sound came. He pulled the other bag up over her feet and legs. In her mind, she was kicking out, struggling to break loose, fighting for her life, but not a single muscle moved. She lay helpless and immobile and felt him winding the parcel tape around her middle, sticking the two bags together. She’d suffocate in here for sure. Would he realize? Perhaps it was part of his plan now. Why hadn’t her father
or the police returned to find her? Dear God, this was it. Utter hopelessness engulfed her.

  She could hear Eva crying. Amit shouted at her to shut the fuck up, then he was picking her up by her feet and dragging her out of the room. He paused on the landing and she heard him bolt the door. Then downstairs, thud, thud, thud, her spine bounced painfully off each step. Across another floor, she thought it was the hall, and into the garage. A door opened and she was dragged over a small sharp step and then they were outside. The freezing night air seeped through the plastic bags. Down the garden path, she supposed towards his lab, the rough hard concrete chafing her back. Dad! Ben! she cried out in her mind, but no sound escaped her lips. I’m here, please find me before it’s too late! He dropped her feet and she heard him unlock the padlock on the lab door, then he had her by the feet again. He dragged her over the step and locked the door behind them.

  Silence. Her heart raced and nausea rose to her throat. She couldn’t swallow because of the paralysis caused by the drug he’d given her. Breathing was difficult too. What was he doing? Suddenly a small slit appeared in the bag close to her face and slowly grew larger. He was cutting her out. She could breathe again through her nose but still couldn’t swallow or move. Her head lolled to one side, and in her line of vision she could see a spotlight, a monitor, wires, an oxygen mask and what looked like an operating table. Terror gripped her.

  His hands slid under her. She could smell and feel the heat of his body as he jerked her into a sitting position, then up and onto the operating table. Terrified and helpless, she could do nothing but watch as he laid her flat. Then he tore open a sterile package and roughly inserted a cannula into her arm. She felt the pain but no cry came. He tore open another sterile package and attached a drip. ‘This will allow me to control the level of muscle relaxant just as I do at work,’ he said. ‘Although, of course, there my patients are unconscious, but you will be awake. Not too much that you won’t be able to breathe and swallow, but enough to stop you from calling out.’

  She watched, petrified, as he cut through the tape and roughly pulled it off. Pain shot through her as hair stuck to the tape came away at the roots. He threw it in the bin and then removed hospital scrubs from a sterile plastic bag and put them on. Her eyes widened in terror. He was really going to operate on her as he’d threatened, and without any anaesthetic.

  ‘Not so cocky now, are you?’ he said, leering over her; she smelt his foul breath. ‘But console yourself that you will be making medical history.’ He grinned. ‘I always like to explain to my patients what will happen to them during their operation. Shortly, I will start the process to drain off your blood, then I will lower your body temperature and replace most of your blood with preservation fluid. That will be rather uncomfortable, but don’t worry – if you can’t bear the pain you will pass out. Then, as part of my experiment, I shall remove one of your kidneys and pop it into preserving fluid, here.’ He tapped a large glass bottle. ‘You will go in that aluminium tank there.’ He picked up her head and forced it round so she could see. ‘Yes, it’s the one you filmed being delivered. Then, after twenty-four hours – during which time you will be technically dead – I will return your kidney and bring you back to life. Just long enough to make sure the process works, then you will join Mrs Jones in her watery grave. Any questions?’

  ‘No, so let’s begin. First I need to get rid of your clothes. I can’t operate on a fully clothed woman.’ He laughed manically.

  Emily watched, paralysed and terror-stricken as he began cutting off her jumper, then her bra, jeans and finally her pants. He threw them into the bin, then returned to stand beside her. His gaze travelled up and down her naked body. Was he going to rape her first? He touched her breasts, her pubic hair; she inwardly cringed and braced herself for what was to come. Parting her legs, he ran a hand slowly up the inside of her thigh. She stared at the ceiling, petrified. But, suddenly, he seemed to change his mind and stopped and turned away.

  He began moving in and out of her line of vision as he opened sealed sterile packages – a petri dish, swabs, and gauze. He was getting ready to operate. There was no saving her now. She tried to struggle and cry out, silently pleading for her life. She watched as he put on a surgical mask and tilted the light so its beam fell directly onto her torso. A sharp stab of pain as he inserted a second cannula into her arm; it ran down to a large bottle on the floor. He switched on a machine, she heard its low hum and steady bleep. Her blood filled the plastic tube and then dripped into the bottle. Dragging over the stool from the workbench, he sat down and watched the monitor.

  Gradually the room began to swim in and out of focus, then a pain like she’d never felt before ran through her as if her insides were being torn apart. Every part of her throbbed, raw and relentless – death would be a release. She saw Amit sway and her last thought before she passed out was that she hoped Robbie and Ben knew how much she loved them. Then nothing.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  ‘Robbie’s tired, he got woken by the fireworks,’ Pat said to Ben. ‘He might have a sleep while we’re gone.’

  ‘OK.’ Ben helped Robbie climb onto his lap and held him close.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want us to take him with us?’ Pat asked, concerned. ‘It would give you a chance to have a rest.’

  ‘No. I feel I need to keep him close with Em gone’.

  ‘I understand.’ She touched Ben’s shoulder. ‘Take care then, we’ll be back as soon as we can. We just need to collect some more clothes and check the house is OK.’

  Ben nodded.

  David appeared in the living room with his coat on. ‘See you later then, lad.’

  The front door closed and the house fell silent, so very quiet, like the grave, Ben thought. Quieter than it had been since he’d arrived home to find Em gone. And the trouble with silence was that it allowed him space to think, thoughts that he was trying to block out and not deal with. Tomorrow, when everyone was back at work after the New Year, he’d have to call his boss and tell him the truth: that Em had left him and he needed time off work. A week at least, to try to sort out his head – he’d be useless at work like this – and arrange childcare for Robbie. Em’s parents couldn’t stay forever. But in doing that he’d be admitting Em had left them for good.

  Robbie rested his head against his chest and began sucking his thumb. He’d be asleep soon, their precious son, now without a mother. How could she? He would never understand it, not in a million years.

  Careful not to disturb Robbie, he reached out and checked his phone again. There were more Happy New Year messages but nothing from Em. He’d virtually given up hope of hearing from her, but he’d wondered if there was a chance she might use the New Year to get in touch. He’d already checked her Facebook account twice that morning. Nothing. Greg hadn’t replied either. He thought it a little strange that Em hadn’t used her Facebook account to wish her friends a Happy New Year, nor had she responded to any of their wishes. The old Em would have done – but of course that person had gone. She appeared to be cutting ties with her friends as well as her family. A New Year, a new start. Unless the body in the quarry was hers after all. And for a second Ben almost welcomed the thought as it would allow him closure.

  Robbie’s gentle rhythmic breathing fell lightly against Ben’s chest. He was fast asleep now, his warm little body completely relaxed. After a few minutes, Ben reached out and checked his phone again. It was now 1.33 p.m. He was knackered too, he should probably take Pat’s advice and try to get some sleep while he had the chance. Resting his head back and with Robbie snuggled close, he allowed his eyes to shut. Thoughts came and went as they did when he wasn’t occupied – of him with Em when they had been happy, but then of Em and Greg.

  He came to with a start and immediately checked his phone: 2.30 p.m. He didn’t remember dropping off, but he’d been asleep for an hour. There were no missed calls, yet something had woken him. He thought he’d heard a ring. The doorbell? Unless he’d been dreaming.
He often dreamt that Emily had come back and was at the door. But there it was again. No dream. Someone was at the door. Not Em’s parents, they weren’t due back for ages, and they had Em’s key. Robbie was still asleep. Ben carefully laid him on the sofa and went to answer the door, retaining the faintest hope it might actually be Em. But no, a man in his early thirties stood before him. Slightly familiar. Was he one of the police officers who’d visited them? He didn’t think so.

  ‘Ben?’ the guy asked. At that moment, Ben placed him from the photograph he’d seen.

  ‘You’re Greg!’

  Yes, I’m sorry. I only just got your message.’

  Ben’s anger erupted and, taking a step forward, he squared up to him. ‘Jesus! You’ve got a nerve coming here. Where is she? Where’s Em?’

  ‘I don’t know, that’s why I’m here. You sent me a message saying she was missing, and the police were looking for her.’

  ‘She’s not with you?’ Ben asked, confused, and backing down.

  ‘No, of course not. Why would she be with me? I read your Facebook message and came straight here. My phone’s being repaired, and I used my wife’s today to log into Facebook. I haven’t heard from Emily since before Christmas. I tried calling her, but her phone’s off. It’s never off. I’m as worried as you are.’

  ‘So you’re not having an affair with her?’

  ‘No. Why would you think that?’ he asked incredulously. ‘We’re friends. Our kids are the same age. I’m happily married. I thought you and Emily were too.’

  ‘We were. Are. At least, I thought so,’ Ben said helplessly. ‘You’d better come in.’

  Out of his depth and not knowing what he should be thinking or feeling, Ben showed Greg into the living room where Robbie was just waking.

  ‘Hi,’ Greg said to him.

  ‘Jamie?’ Robbie asked clearly.

  ‘No, mate, he’s at home with his mum.’ Then to Ben, ‘Jamie is my son.’