Killed in King's Cross

by Samantha Silver

  A moment later, Brianne came back carrying a very well-stocked first aid kit. I supposed that was one advantage to being shot inside a doctor’s home; a lot of us actually had a decent amount of medical equipment at home. I knew one cardiac surgeon when I was in medical school who actually kept a portable defibrillator in his entry closet in case someone ever had a heart attack while staying at his home.

  “Clamp?” I asked, and Brianne passed over a small one.

  “There’s only one,” she said, and I nodded.

  “I need you to help me,” I told Brianne. “Is there a scalpel?”

  Brianne opened a scalpel still in its sterile wrapping and handed it over to me. I sliced open some of Violet’s skin. It was definitely going to leave a bigger scar, but I figured if I managed to save her life she’d probably forgive me for it. Blood was seeping out of her at way too quick a rate for me to do anything else.

  Reaching inside, I found the inferior vena cava, which, sure enough, had a giant, gaping hole in one side of it.

  Using the clamp, I cut off the blood flow from the bottom. That way, no more blood was going to be able to get out.

  “Check outside the window and see if the ambulance is here yet,” I called out. “I also need you to call DCI Williams. His number is in my phone. Give him this address, tell him the serial killer is tied up in the apartment.”

  “Right away,” Brianne said, standing up and making her way to the window to check for the ambulance’s arrival. “They’re not here yet.”

  I could feel Violet’s pulse; it was definitely slowing down. I had to get this hole fixed, if nothing else. There was a very real possibility of some organ damage – given the location I suspected an intestine rupture at the very least – but at least the bleeding was stopping now that the clamp was in place. I pressed a finger into the hole to stop any more from coming out. There wasn’t much more I could do right now without a surgical team and an operating room; the fact that there was a clamp in the doctor’s first aid kit was already a huge help, otherwise I would have had to hold the vein closed myself.

  Brianne picked my phone up off the ground and began going through my contacts. I could hear her calling DCI Williams while still checking for the ambulance every few seconds. I was definitely getting worried. Violet needed immediate medical attention, and she needed it now. I listened in the distance, and I began to hear sirens. Was that the paramedics now? Were they on their way?

  “It sounds like they’re coming,” Brianne told me. “DCI Williams is on his way too to take care of this piece of scum,” she added, kicking at Doctor King with her toe. He let out a small groan but didn’t move; Violet had evidently done a number on him with that Taser.

  “I hope so,” I said. “She needs a surgeon straight away.”

  “You’ve done a bloody good job yourself,” Brianne said, shaking her head.

  “I hope you don’t mean that literally,” I said, looking around at all the blood. This apartment definitely looked like a crime scene, now. Violet needed blood, and fast.

  I looked at the first aid kit.

  “Brianne?”

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to look through that kit and see if there’s a needle in there. I need to transfer my blood over to Violet.”

  “You’re O negative?” Brianne asked, and I nodded.

  “No. O positive. Which gives me an eighty-two percent chance of being able to give Violet my blood, but if I don’t do it, she’s going to die. You’re not O-negative, are you?”

  Brianne shook her head. “Sorry. AB positive. I’m basically the most useless person in this situation.” She made her way back to the first aid kit and began rummaging through it. “There’s a syringe here, but it means you’re going to have to share it.”

  “If Violet has any blood transferable diseases I’m pretty sure I already have it,” I replied, looking at the immense amount of blood that was now all over my arms. “I need to keep this hole plugged. You’re going to have to do it.”

  “Right,” Brianne said, making her way over to me. Wrapping a piece of plastic tubing around my arm, she tapped at my veins a couple of times, then stuck the syringe in, pulling up the tube and filling it with blood. It was actually a pretty big tube, probably 50ml, which was more than I would have expected. I winced slightly at the poke of the needle, but Brianne had good aim, and I barely felt it.

  Pulling the syringe out of my arm, she pulled Violet’s arm over, searching for a vein or artery to put the blood into. Her veins were hiding though; the blood loss didn’t make it easy. Eventually, Brianne found one on the top of her hand.

  “At least she’s not going to be able to feel this,” Brianne said as she injected the blood into Violet.

  “Again,” I said as soon as she was done. “Keep doing it until the ambulance gets here.”

  Brianne managed to transfer four syringes worth, or about half a unit of blood, before the sound of the sirens got close enough that I ordered her to go downstairs and open the door for the EMTs.

  There was a chance that Violet was going to have a bad reaction to the blood, but I really hoped she didn’t. She certainly didn’t look like she had the chills or anything like that, which was a good sign.

  Two minutes later, Brianne came rushing back in, followed by three paramedics carrying a stretcher.

  “I’m holding the hole in her inferior vena cava shut,” I told them. “I’ve transferred half a unit of my blood into her, but I’m not sure her blood type. I’m O positive. I’m going to keep holding the hole shut, and I’m coming with you.”

  “Right, let’s get her to the hospital as quickly as possible,” one of the paramedics said, with one grabbing her shoulders and the other her legs. “There’s only the one wound?”

  “As far as I know,” I replied. The paramedics counted to three and moved Violet onto the stretcher. Straight away, the four of us rushed back out to the ambulance.

  “Let’s put her on her side,” one of the paramedics said as the ambulance sped away. “I want to give her some oxygen.”

  In a twist of irony, University Hospital where Doctor King worked was the closest hospital, and it was where we ended up. As soon as we got there a surgical team was already ready - I had heard one of the EMTs on the radio calling for them to be ready when we got there back at Doctor King’s apartment - and a nurse quickly took over for me holding the hole shut while they wheeled Violet away to the operating room.

  I was mostly in a daze as I made my way to the waiting area. I barely even noticed the stares from people who must have wondered if I should be locked up in a mental hospital. I was sure I was covered in blood, I was pretty sure my head wound had re-opened at some point during the ruckus, and my thousand-yard-stare would have driven most people away screaming.

  I was basically the bad guy in a zombie movie right now.

  I really hoped it wasn’t too late for Violet.

  Chapter 22

  About twenty minutes later, after a nurse appeared and made sure I didn’t need medical attention myself – my head wound was oozing slightly but it wasn’t fully open – Brianne showed up, along with DCI Williams. She handed me my phone, which I had completely forgotten to grab in all the chaos, and I found myself immediately texting Jake to come over.

  “I’m going to need a statement from you, when you’re up to it,” DCI Williams told me, and I nodded.

  “Has he been arrested?”

  “He has. I would have arrived sooner if someone hadn’t commandeered my police car.”

  I gave DCI Williams a sheepish look. “I didn’t realize Violet was going to do that, in my defense. I thought she was going to wait for you, too.”

  “Well, it’s done now. The important thing is we’ve got a killer off the streets. Come by the station later and I’ll take your statement. I’ve got Brianne’s, already.”

  I nodded and thanked DCI Williams. “I’ll let you know if Violet’s alright,” I told him.

  “She will be,” he re
plied.

  “You didn’t see her.”

  “No, but she always is.”

  I wished I had that kind of confidence. As DCI Williams left, I plopped myself back down on the chair, next to Brianne.

  “Now you look like a crazy person,” Brianne informed me, and I couldn’t help it. I laughed, in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

  “Are you alright?” I asked her. A bruise was forming on her neck, but she nodded.

  “I’m shaken up. There’s probably going to be a few nightmares in my immediate future, but I’m alive, thanks to you and Violet.”

  “Brianne, I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to get involved in this. I never meant for him to come after you. It was supposed to be me.”

  “No, don’t,” Brianne said, shaking her head. “It’s not your fault.”

  “It is, though. If I hadn’t come to see you, he never would have targeted you.”

  “Nope. It’s his fault for being a serial killing piece of excrement. Trust me. I don’t blame you in the slightest. But you did save my life, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.”

  “Why did you get into the car with him, anyway?” I asked. “Did he threaten you?”

  “Yup,” Brianne nodded. “He pulled a gun on me. Pointed it at me through the car window, told me if I didn’t get in he was going to shoot me right there in the street.”

  I shook my head, incredulous. “What a horrible person.”

  “Exactly. When you called, he told me to answer, and to act natural, or he was going to shoot me right then and there.”

  “When you changed a few of those facts around, that was when I knew something was wrong,” I said, and Brianne nodded.

  “The fact that you might pick those up was the only chance I had. After I hung up, he got me to throw the phone out the window so that I couldn’t be tracked with it.”

  “Violet found it; she hacked your iCloud and used it to try and find you, which at least put us in the right area.”

  “I’m so glad you did,” Brianne said, and a moment later a nurse came out and looked at the two of us.

  “Which one of you is Brianne? The police detective has ordered me to have a look at you; your injuries need to be recorded as well.”

  I looked over as my friend got up. “I’d give you a hug, but I’m pretty disgusting right now.”

  “That’s okay, I’ve had better days too,” Brianne said with a wink as she followed the nurse down the hall.

  I leaned back in my chair, finding myself completely exhausted, and closed my eyes. I didn’t realize I had dozed off until I opened them later and found Jake sitting next to me.

  “How long have you been there?” I asked.

  “About half an hour,” he replied. “You looked so peaceful I thought I would just let you sleep.”

  “I’m pretty sure nothing about what I look like right now is peaceful,” I laughed. “Sorry about the serial killer look.”

  “I heard from the nurse that you got your serial killer.”

  “It was Doctor King,” I nodded. “Violet figured it out. He kidnapped Brianne, and shot Violet. All of this is her blood.”

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  “I have no idea. She got taken to surgery as soon as we got here, and I haven’t heard anything since.”

  “Well, let me convince the nurse to let you into the staff showers, get you some new clothes, and while you’re doing that I’ll go out and get you a burger.”

  I smiled gratefully at Jake. “I knew I loved you for a reason.”

  * * *

  Four hours later Violet came out of surgery, alive. It had been a close one, according to the surgeon, and he told me that if it wasn’t for my quick thinking and reactions, Violet would absolutely be dead by now. Jake had gone back to work after two hours; with the killer caught, the police were now bugging him for the final report on Marnie Phillips’s autopsy, so when Violet woke up, I was the only person in the room.

  “Has he been arrested?” was the first thing she asked.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Thanks to you.”

  Violet simply nodded and then drifted back off to sleep. I smiled and tucked the blanket back in under her.

  * * *

  Forty-eight hours later Violet was released from the hospital, insisting that she was fine despite the fact that her doctors wanted to keep her there for another few days under observation.

  “I will have Cassie come by every few hours to check on me,” Violet insisted. “You know she is a good doctor, she is the one who saved my life.”

  Eventually, the doctors relented, and that was how I found myself helping Violet out of the cab as she winced; her abdominal muscles had taken a beating from the bullet, not to mention her insides. And surgery wasn’t exactly a super fun thing to deal with either.

  “I swear, if I see you leave this house, I will hunt you down and I will take you back to the hospital myself,” I threatened. “And I’ve called Mrs. Michaels and told her what’s going on; she’s going to look out for you too, and you know old people love spying on their neighbors.”

  “I am fine,” Violet replied.

  “Is that why you can’t even get out of the car on your own? You are not fine, and you’re going to rest. Besides, it’s Christmas Eve. Even the world’s greatest detective can take a week off at Christmas.”

  “The criminals do not do so, so why would I?”

  “Because you were shot and almost died. If you go out and bleed to death in the street like an idiot, I’m going to be really mad at you. Now, get in the house, and let me go get your Christmas present.”

  I helped Violet up the stairs, settled her on the couch, then ran home and grabbed the copies of The Strand that I had found for her. By the time I got back into the house, I found Violet mulling around the kitchen, trying to make a smoothie.

  “Out,” I ordered, pointing back to the couch. “Go sit on that, and open this. I’ll make your smoothie for you. I will move in here and for a few days with you if I need to.”

  Violet scowled, but did as I ordered, taking the wrapped pile of magazines from me and making her way back to the couch.

  As I put ingredients in the blender, I could hear her unwrapping the magazines, and she burst out laughing when she finally saw what they were.

  “You do have a good sense of irony,” Violet said. “Did you buy these before, or after Marnie Phillips’s murder?”

  “After,” I replied. “But I figured the world’s greatest real detective would enjoy some original copies of the world’s greatest fictional detective.”

  “I do love it,” Violet said. “Since I am certain you would not like me getting it myself, if you go upstairs into my room you will find your present on the dresser.”

  I didn’t like going into Violet’s room at all; this house was filled with weird and creepy stuff; I had once come across a Komodo Dragon in her bedroom.

  “Is there anything that might kill me upstairs?”

  “Plenty of things, but so long as you simply go to the bedroom and get your gift off the dresser, I believe you will be fine.”

  I made my way up, and sure enough, found a small box, wrapped absolutely beautifully, sitting on Violet’s dresser. Of course even she could wrap presents perfectly.

  Making my way downstairs, I smiled at her. “Thanks for this.”

  “Open it.”

  I sat down on the couch across from her and pulled open the wrapping paper. Inside was a box labelled ‘ERKA’.

  I opened the box, and found nestled perfectly, like it was in a jewelry box, the nicest stethoscope I had ever seen.

  “They are from Germany. My source tells me it is the best stethoscope money can buy.”

  “Thank you,” I said almost breathlessly, touching the stethoscope lightly, as though it were glass. “But I don’t know if I’m going to be a doctor yet.”

  “You do know, I think,” Violet said, and I looked at her, questions in my eyes.

  �
��I spoke with Brianne, when I was at the hospital. I wanted her to come and see me. After all, she would not leave the apartment without me when you told her to run, and I thought that was quite brave of her. She told me what you did. She told me that you are the reason I am here today, and that you even had her transfer some of your blood into me so that I would survive.”

  “Still, that doesn’t mean I’m going to be a doctor. It just means I didn’t want my best friend to die.”

  “No, but your presence of mind in that situation, it was something. And it is not the first time I have seen it. You have helped me when I had been stabbed. I have seen it. You are at your best when you are in an emergency situation and someone requires medical attention. You do not panic. You are focused, and clear-headed, and calm. You make everyone around you calmer for it, and you will eventually realize that is what you were meant to do.”

  I sat on the couch, staring at the gorgeous stethoscope, as tears came unwillingly to my eyes. Violet was right. Of course Violet was right. The answer had been staring me in the face the entire time. The things that made me an excellent surgeon were also going to make me an excellent emergency doctor. That was what I was meant to do.

  A huge wave of relief came over me. I knew what I was going to do. I knew what I had to do. There was absolutely no doubt about it in my mind anymore. I was going to medical school. I was going to finish my studies to become a doctor. And I was going to save people’s lives in emergency situations. That was what I was best at. That was what I was meant to do.

  This was definitely the best Christmas I’d had in a long time. How far I’d come in less than a year.

  Also by Samantha Silver

  First of all, I wanted to thank you for reading my book. I well and truly hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I loved writing it.