by Lucy Dawson
‘Alex?’ I try again. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. Please come out, wherever you are.’ I look around me and my gaze alights on the door leading into the small loo. It’s closed but there is a much brighter light shining out from around the edges. I smile, walk across to it and knock on the door. ‘Alex? You can come out now. I’m here to rescue you.’
Forty-Three
Julia
‘I’ve been thinking a lot during the night and there are some important points I wanted to raise.’ I sit opposite the Investigating Officer in a small room at the police station, squinting as the sharp winter sunlight shines directly in my eyes.
‘Did you run here Julia?’ the IO asks, looking at my trainers and gym gear. ‘It’s really cold this morning?’
‘No. I went to the gym earlier, but I drove straight over after that because something occurred to me.’
‘Earlier?’ She looks at her watch. ‘It’s not quite nine a.m., on a Sunday. Have you slept at all?’
‘Yes.’ I try to keep the irritation from my voice. ‘I’m fine. So these letters – or clues – that Nathan Sloan has written on the back of the breast implants and put inside some of his patients… Since joining Nathan Sloan’s team, I’ve personally dealt with two cases of encapsulation – that’s where the body forms a pocket of scar tissue round an implant that becomes too tight and painful – which affected both patients within six months of their original surgery. That’s unusual. Both women had their operations performed by Nathan Sloan. Encapsulation can be caused by infection. Now, Mr Sloan must have handled the implants of the six women in order to write on them unnecessarily – so there’s an increased chance he’s now exposed them to infection. That gives you a medical reason for needing to contact these women, which gets round any issue of patient confidentiality, assuming there was one.’
The IO stares at me. Is she just going to sit there? ‘Do you need to note that down?’ I suggest. ‘Or should I keep going – and then we can recap?’
She blinks. ‘It’s fine, you tell me the rest.’
‘OK.’ I shift on my chair uncomfortably, my leg muscles starting to cramp where I didn’t stretch earlier, just jumped straight in the car. ‘I formally reported Nathan Sloan to the Medical Director of the private hospital he’s affiliated to, for filming his female patients without their consent, on Thursday, the twentieth of December, in the afternoon. I saw him in person back at the EM, immediately afterwards, because he was going out with Hamish and Tan – two of our other colleagues. So, he wasn’t operating that afternoon. I know he was suspended from surgery literally as he was finishing up his fourth procedure on Friday, the twenty-first, because he told me so himself. Therefore, it must be the women on his Thursday list, and the first four women from his Friday schedule who have the letters within them, because I first confronted him on the evening of Wednesday the nineteenth.’ I stop and take a breath. ‘You’re still with me, right?’
The IO nods. ‘Yes. Yes I am.’
‘But the really important point is, I know one of the women he operated on that Friday!’ I lean forward eagerly. ‘I realised when I was trying to piece it all together last night! I bumped into her in person on the Wednesday when I went to confront Mr Sloan at his office. Her name is Stefanie. I’ve met her socially, and she told me herself she was having a breast augmentation on Friday, the twenty-first of December. She’s a really nice woman and I’m sure she’d be very willing to help you.’ I take a gulp of my water from the cup the IO gave me when I arrived. ‘Now.’ I place it back down. ‘If she were to agree to have further immediate surgery, to identify the letter Mr Sloan has on her implant or implants, I would happily confirm that I think there are medical grounds for it to go ahead, given the increased infection risk I’ve already outlined to you. Obviously, it would be inappropriate for me to perform the surgery myself, but I’m sure this is something I can talk to the department at the EM about, although I confess I’ve no experience of needing to ‘fast-track’ surgery like this when it’s not a life-threatening scenario… for Stefanie at least. But it’s a starting point, isn’t it? One of the colleagues I already mentioned, Tan Husain, is an excellent, very kind surgeon. I’m sure he’d be happy to perform the surgery. Stefanie would be in very safe hands.’ I stop and draw breath – waiting for the IO to start running herself with everything I’ve just given her.
She hesitates and scratches her head. ‘OK. Julia, this is all very helpful, thank you. I’ll pass it on to the DI and one of the team may well want to talk to you further about what you’ve said once I’ve—’
‘Hang on.’ I put a hand out. ‘You’re going to talk to Stefanie today, right? Because I’ll need to start contacting people at work. Operations don’t just “happen”.’
‘No, I appreciate that. Let’s hold back on you doing that for the moment though.’ She smiles. ‘At least until I’ve spoken with my Senior Investigating Officer.’
I stare at her and scratch my arm suddenly. ‘I’m sorry, but I feel like you don’t seem to think what I’ve just told you is important? Alex has been missing for two nights now. While it’s obviously a huge relief that he hasn’t had some sort of accident, my son is still being held against his will, possibly without enough food or water and, as you pointed out moments ago, the temperature has significantly dropped. So for me to just give you the information that will enable you to find the letters Nathan Sloan has—’
‘Julia, I can see you’re frustrated and frightened right now, and I totally understand why, but—’
‘No, you don’t,’ I interrupt. ‘I’m sorry, but you really don’t understand what this feels like.’
‘What I meant to say was I appreciate why you are frustrated, but we’re not able to discuss all of the ongoing developments in this case with you at the moment.’
‘So there have been some?’ I seize on that.
‘As soon as we can, we will,’ she says firmly, ‘and please be assured that we are working tirelessly to find Alex. What I can tell you is that Nathan Sloan is here at the moment as a voluntary attender – this is a phrase that isn’t used all over the UK, so you may not find it if you google it – but it means that he’s here with a solicitor and is being interviewed under caution, not arrest, at the moment. You can trust us to do this, I promise.’ She looks at me sympathetically.
I shift in my chair again. ‘It’s got nothing to do with trust. Why wouldn’t I trust you? After all, you’re not sitting there thinking I sound mad, are you? You’re thinking this very sensible, rational woman is telling me something so unusual and awful I have to investigate it, because why would she lie about it? You trust me, right?’ I sound too aggressive. I see my mistake the second I’ve finished speaking.
She raises her eyebrows. ‘I hear you and I promise that we’re helping you, Julia. We are doing everything we can.’ She stands up.
‘Look, it’s not that I’m saying you’re all doing a bad job.’ She’s pissed off with me now, I can tell. ‘I’m not trying to be rude to you. Yes, I’m used to being the person in control. No, I don’t like not being able to do anything – but none of this is about that. I’m very uneasy that what Nathan Sloan told me last night will be dismissed – because he’ll now be denying he said it – but as we’ve already discussed, why would I make up something as bizarre as that? Here, I’m going to give you Stefanie’s details, so you can speak to her as soon as possible.’ I reach into my hoodie pocket for my mobile. I find the number and hold out the screen to the IO, forcing her to note the number down.
‘I’m sure we’ll have updates we can share with you soon.’ She gestures to the door the second she’s done it. I’ve been dismissed.
I’m left with no choice but to get to my feet too and let her lead me back to reception… only as we’re walking down the corridors, I glance through an open door to see Ben Sloan and Storm sitting on one side of a table, accompanied by some man in a suit. A solicitor perhaps? I can’t help myself; I double back and stare right at them. Ben loo
ks up with red eyes – he’s obviously been crying and the second Storm clocks me, she looks astonished.
‘Julia? What are you doing here? Are you?—’
But before she can continue, I hear someone else start speaking, the door closes and the IO hurriedly leads me away.
‘Why is Ben here?’ I ask immediately. ‘What’s he got to do with any of this? Is he under arrest?’
‘When we can discuss developments with you, we will.’
Back in the car, I sit in the driver’s seat, staring out of the windscreen in frustration. I’ve done this all wrong. I should have gone to see Stefanie first and explained everything to her; that way, she could have come down to the station with me, which would have forced the police to act then and there. But I’ve already passed the information on. I’m going to have to leave it to them. I can’t go and see her now… can I?
I hesitate and start up the car. I could go and see Tan though. I can at least ask him if he’d be prepared to help in the event of the police needing someone to operate at short notice… but it’s Trishna who answers the door when I knock.
‘Julia!’ She’s understandably shocked to see me. ‘Oh my goodness!’
‘Hello.’ I try to smile. ‘How are you? I’m sorry to be turning up out of the blue like this, but I wondered if I could speak to Tan?’
‘He’s at the hospital, I’m afraid. There was a mix-up at work; he had to go in and cover an on-call for Hamish. Shall I get him to call you when he gets back?’
‘No, it’s OK. Don’t worry. I might pop down to the hospital and see if I can catch him there. Thank you, though.’
‘Julia?’ I turn back and she’s holding the door wide open, beckoning me in, her kind face etched with concern. ‘Would you have a cup of tea with me? We saw the appeal on television last night. I can’t imagine what you are going through right now. I think you are so brave. Do you have time to stop for a moment?’
That draws me up short. I don’t know. I don’t want Alex to have to be without me for a moment longer. I want everything, everyone to be urgently searching everywhere. I want the police to be on their way to talk to Stefanie now and yet, perversely, I have too much time because, ultimately, this search is beyond my control and I can’t bear it. The seconds and minutes and hours are ticking over and over and over and still he’s not here.
‘Thank you.’ I force myself to smile again. ‘I probably won’t come in, though.’ I gesture down at myself. ‘I ought to get home and sorted out. I’m a bit of a state!’
‘No, you’re not. Whenever you are ready. We are here for you,’ she says simply, and I have to turn and practically run back to the car before I break down at her kindness.
Once I’m sitting behind the wheel, I suddenly change my mind. I am going to see Stefanie. She will come with me to the station right now, I’m sure of it. She was so kind to me about Alex, too. She will understand.
I drive too fast to where I think I remember she lives, but have to crawl around the leafy streets, looking at the identical white Georgian house fronts because I can’t remember exactly which one is hers. I double back a couple of times uncertainly, before trusting my judgement that I’ve got the right place.
‘Julia!’ She throws the heavy door open before I’ve finished knocking. She’s immaculately made up and dressed in a soft, tight cashmere jumper tucked into black jeans to emphasise her new shape: big breasts, tiny waist and lean legs… even her hair is hairdresser bouncy, she looks almost computer generated. ‘I was upstairs when I saw you driving past, then back again. I was going to lean out of the window but… anyway, come in.’
I step into the hallway, and as she closes the door I get a waft of fresh coffee and toast. My stomach rumbles involuntarily, and she raises a stern eyebrow.
‘You need something to eat. You should be keeping your strength up at a time like this. Come on.’ She turns and I kick off my trainers before following her. She’s already pouring me a coffee in the huge, chilly kitchen and pushing a small jug of milk across an island when I walk in, but I hesitate, worried suddenly that I’m making a mistake, that I should leave this alone and not interfere. I don’t know how to begin.
She sits down on a high stool and waits for me to join her. ‘You must be exhausted. This is all too ghastly for words. I saw the appeal last night. How horrendous for you.’ She’s one of those people who doesn’t shy away but becomes brisk and practical in a crisis. ‘Has it yielded anything yet?’
‘Yes,’ I say uncertainly, and she sits up straighter. ‘Oh?’
I join her at the island. ‘Nathan Sloan came to see me at home last night. He told me something that I’m afraid involves you.’
She doesn’t move for a moment, then puts her hands in her lap. ‘Me? I can’t imagine how?’
I clear my throat, unsure if I should continue… but I’ve started now and if the police are taking me seriously, why have I beaten them to this? Why aren’t they here, telling Stefanie what I’m about to? ‘Nathan confessed he’s hidden Alex from me.’
Stefanie almost drops her coffee. As it slips in her grasp, she spills some of it down the front of her caramel jumper. ‘Damn!’ She jumps up, still holding it and more liquid lurches from the cup onto the white marble worktop. She slams it down and rushes to get a cloth, scrubbing furiously at the stain before throwing it back in the sink and turning to look at me again with an odd, bright smile. ‘I’m so sorry. You’re saying Nathan has abducted Alex?’
‘Yes. When Nathan did your operation just before Christmas,’ I plough on quickly, ‘he wrote a letter, using a surgical pen, on one of the implants he put inside you… and he did the same thing to five other women he operated on. These six letters together reveal where Alex is. Nathan has deliberately and callously stitched them inside your bodies. This was utterly premeditated and a deeply shocking thing for him to have done. I told the police this morning that I know you are one of his patients, so they’ll be contacting you – to ask if you would consider having some additional emergency surgery to recover the letter and help us find Alex.’
She stares at me for a moment. ‘You want me to have another general anaesthetic so you can cut me open again, when I’ve only just started properly healing, to see if there is a letter in me?’
‘There definitely is. He’s already told me.’
‘Would you do it?’ she asks suddenly. ‘If you were sat where I am now?’
I hesitate. ‘If it meant finding a missing child, yes, I would.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! No, you wouldn’t! Of course, I’m not willing to have another major operation on the basis of what you’ve just said! Are you totally mad?’ She gets to her feet.
I hold up a hand. She’s freaking out, and I get that. Who wouldn’t? ‘I appreciate it’s very hard to hear that you’re one of his victims, but—’
‘Victim? Goodness, that’s a strong word.’ She folds her arms. ‘These implants all carry serial numbers on them now, I believe, so they can be registered on a national database as a safety measure?’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’
‘So even if he did write on them, how is that any different to the serial number? Nathan didn’t write on me. That doesn’t make me feel like a victim?’
‘It’s completely different! Nathan would have removed the implants from sterile conditions, handled them unnecessarily when he tampered with them and placed them back in boxes before your surgery. That places you at a significantly increased infection risk, something Nathan would be very aware of. He also did it with the single purpose of you needing to be opened up again to remove it. He’s treated you like a human storage facility.’
She doesn’t take her eyes from me. ‘Have you ever written on the back of an implant you’ve used on a patient?’
‘It’s not common practice. I’ve marked the skin of patients with surgical pen, yes, but with their permission and not in the way Nathan—’
‘Just yes is fine.’ She cuts me off. ‘Sorry. Once a barrister…
I’m just really struggling here.’ She picks up her coffee, walks to the sink and chucks it away. ‘If someone was presenting this to me to see if I’d represent it, I’d be saying a firm no… He’s marked something that’s been placed within my body, that already carries markings in the form of a serial number. Do you see? So all you’re left with is asking me to undergo emergency surgery on the basis that YOU say this letter, that he may or may not have written, may or may not carry some sort of significance.’ She gives me a bland smile. ‘So as I’ve already said, it’s a no from me. What do the other women say? Has anyone else said yes to your request?’
‘You’re the first victim I’ve asked.’
‘There with the “victim” again!’ She winces. ‘I’m really not sure you can get away with that. I’d be careful if I were you. Did you choose me first because you know me socially and I’m also a mother? You thought you’d exploit that?’
My mouth falls open. I appreciate she’s shocked, but that’s downright hostile. ‘I understand that asking you to have more surgery under these circumstances is very extreme, but—’
‘You know, when Caroline asked me to have you to dinner, I was only too happy to help out,’ she interrupts, her tone conversational. ‘A mutual friend in need and all that. She explained that you’d had a rough time of it before moving here, all of the press intrusion with your court case, and I won’t lie, I googled you. I read some of the things you alleged about your former colleagues, dead rats and the like, and I thought that poor woman. How horrendous. Who would treat a colleague so badly?’ She picks a piece of lint from the front of her jumper and flicks it away delicately with her fingers. ‘But now here you are, sitting in my kitchen, telling me that a very good friend of my husband – and mine – who I trust enough to perform surgery on me, has abducted your son and put clues to his whereabouts inside people. Now, I don’t deny that you must be under enormous strain and I can see it’s had a material effect on you. You look exhausted: you plainly haven’t slept or washed.’ She glances at my gym gear. ‘But Nathan would never do something like that to me – to anyone,’ she adds quickly.
