The Lost Years

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The Lost Years Page 9

by Colin Wade


  There was a knock at the door. Rob jumped out of his skin and stopped rambling. It was the ward sister.

  “The police are here again. They would like to speak to you.”

  “OK, send them in.”

  Two police officers walked in. One was the female DC who had pretty much accused him of attempted murder, until Rob had shown her his car. The other one he had not met before. A man, looking like he owned the place.

  “Mr Simmons, my name is DI Peter Welmsley. I have overall responsibility for investigating your partner’s accident.”

  “OK, what have you found?”

  “Not much. Our forensic teams have matched the black paint transfer to a 4x4 type vehicle but can’t distinguish the make. We have had no witnesses come forward despite our appeals. Is there anything else you can tell us?”

  Rob felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. A black 4x4. Just like the others. This confirmed it. Anya had been hit. Someone was trying to clear up the last remnants of this conspiracy.

  “Mr Simmons.”

  Rob jumped out of his daze.

  “Oh, sorry, no. As I told your colleague, I wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened.”

  The DI stared at him, trying to read his manner. Trained to spot liars.

  Rob tried to stay cool. If Clark was right, he couldn’t trust these officers.

  “OK, Mr Simmons, but please let us know if you think of anything that might help.”

  “No problem.”

  They left and Rob breathed a huge sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure whether they were dodgy or just still felt he was the ‘murderer’.

  He resumed his previous position and started nattering away. Anya just lay there. He really hoped she could hear him.

  36

  Rob felt like his life was on a hamster wheel. The same every day. Gallery in the morning, the hospital in the afternoon and home to a lonely, quiet house in the evening. He had to break the routine and decided to go and see Clark again.

  Clark was relieved. He still had so much to discuss and waiting was making him nervous and impatient.

  “Rob, it is so good to see you again. How is Anya?”

  “No change. The doctors say she can hear me but I get nothing back. She just lies there. The machines are keeping her alive.”

  “What about the security on the ward?”

  “I did speak to the ward sister and she does have the place pretty secure. Every visitor has to buzz the door to get in.”

  “That is good. What about the police?”

  “Huh, those bastards. They seem more interested in fitting me up than trying to find the real killer.”

  “I told you, they can’t be trusted.”

  “Don’t fret. I told them nothing, especially as they confirmed the paint transfer on Anya’s car was from a black 4x4. I almost shit myself when they said it, but I think I managed to hide my horror. This just confirms that the same person that killed the others tried to kill Anya.”

  “Well yes, I am sorry to say it confirms all that we have found so far.”

  Rob looked drained and Clark wasn’t sure how far he could push him. Their first encounter had been volatile but some of the fight seemed to have gone out of him. He decided to press on.

  “Rob, you started telling me about your visit to the clinic, before you went last time. What made you go there?”

  “Anya had been having bad dreams for several nights before we decided to go to the clinic. She was trying to keep them from me and it did cause some tension. For the first time since we got together, I didn’t trust her. She kept lying to me.”

  “What changed?”

  “Well, I bloody well forced her to tell me what was going on.”

  “Which was?”

  “Well she finally admitted that she was a drug addict and had been admitted to that clinic for treatment. Apparently, her parents were both killed in a car accident in her first year at uni. She was devastated, sought support from the wrong crowd and started taking drugs.”

  “OK, I can kind of understand that but what about the dreams?”

  “The dreams she was having seemed to be recalling real events which her brain had forgotten. She told me that she has limited recall of her time at the clinic but she is convinced the dreams are actually recovering memories. This Dr French character told her that the drug addiction had supressed her memories and that she may not ever recover them. Anya said she always felt uneasy in there and the doctor was sleazy.”

  “What did she say she dreams about?”

  “She keeps seeing the letters LEX as part of a longer word. She is often restrained and seems to be connected up to lots of machines and drips. She definitely feels like she was in a hospital setting. She also had one dream where he seemed to be violating her.”

  “Oh my God, really!”

  Clark paused, trying to process all this new information. Rob just sat there. Crestfallen. The experiences of the last week clearly lying heavy.

  “Well, I guess it sounds feasible that she is recovering real memories but it is strange that they claimed she wasn’t treated there when I found her records on their system. This just adds to the conspiracy. They are trying to cover up the fact that any of these girls were ever there.”

  There was another uncomfortable silence. Everything Rob had said was hurtling around Clark’s brain. The information sat there. Festering. Something about what he had said was niggling away but Clark couldn’t connect the dots. He needed time to think it through.

  Rob broke the silence.

  “Show me what else you have found.”

  They walked into the man cave and looked at the board. Rob pointed at the picture of the mystery man.

  “Who is this?”

  “I don’t know but I think he may be part of the conspiracy. He seems to have been around three of the girls regularly, including Anya, and popped up in one picture of the other group. If I am right, he may have been the one targeting the girls.”

  “Was he being paid from this bank account you found?”

  “I don’t know yet. The information we have is only at a summary level, on a bank statement. It shows several transactions going in and out of the Cayman Island bank. It is feasible that one set of transactions was being paid to this bloke.”

  “Show me the statement.”

  Clark opened up the hacked access route into Fairport Medical. He was a bit nervous as Rob had clearly been pissed off about his ‘criminal activities’. He didn’t seem to bite this time.

  “Here is the statement. There is complete symmetry between the payments going in and going out. The only anomaly is that the first of the bigger payments in is £175k less than the four others. I can’t explain it without hacking into the bank and finding the details behind them.”

  Clark looked at Rob a bit sheepishly as he realised what he had said.

  “Shit, Clark. I can’t be associated with how you are doing this. I am not going to jail for anyone.”

  “Not even to save Anya?”

  “Oh, fuck off. That is low.”

  “I am sorry Rob, but life doesn’t work like that. We are dealing with criminals and we have to work in their world. I will not find the evidence we need without breaking some laws. I am working with a mate. We are good and won’t be caught. You just have to trust me.”

  Rob was torn. He was beginning to trust Clark but everything they were doing made him nervous. He sat down, trying to process his inner turmoil.

  Clark shut down the form, hoping that Rob would come around. He was just about to shut the file folder when he spotted something.

  “What the hell is this?”

  Rob perked up. “What?”

  “There is another bank statement. Dated yesterday. Holy crap. More payments have been made into this account.”

 
“Eh? What for?”

  Clark looked at Rob in horror.

  “Oh my God. I think they may be starting again.”

  37

  His phone rang.

  Oh, shit. Here we go again.

  He answered it and the caller launched into his tirade, just like he always did. No ‘Hi, how are you?’, just volume and abuse.

  “My contacts at the hospital are telling me that Anya has someone visiting her every day. She isn’t married, so is he a boyfriend or a relative?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “My God, your job is to deal with this stuff. How do we not know who he is? How do we know he is not a threat to us? Your sloppiness is pissing me off. He may know about her time in the clinic. You need to find out who he is and what he knows.”

  The phone was once again disconnected abruptly, with the sense that the handset was being virtually slammed down.

  He sat there, shaking his head.

  Why the fuck do I put up with this?

  He was due to be paid for the latest two ‘recruits’ and was really tempted to make a run for it as soon as the money was in his account, but Anya was unfinished business. She had always been the special one and he really wanted to give her ‘special treatment’.

  He decided to find a willing bimbo who wouldn’t mind him snorting a line off her cute ass. Tomorrow, he would go to the hospital and try and find out who this man was. Maybe it would be a bit of fun. Killing two for the price of one.

  *

  As he lay in bed, after the first round of rampant sex, the girl he had picked up would not shut up. Prattling on about more drugs, more booze and more sex. Her voice was grating on his last nerve. He snapped. He leapt up and straddled her. At first, she looked excited, ready for another session, but her expression changed as he put his hands round her throat. Her eyes bulged as she struggled against the force he was exerting. He eased off and she punched him in the mouth. It didn’t faze him. She had made his mouth bleed. He liked the taste of blood. He smiled at her and put his hands back round her throat. He loved it when they fought back.

  *

  It was getting late. Rob and Clark didn’t know what to do with the new information.

  “How much has gone in?”

  “Two payments of £725,000.”

  “Has any gone out?”

  “Yes, two payments of £225,000, which I guess are the payments to the doctor, and it means he has got an increase.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the original email with Anya’s name on it and the other four girls had the cost of services as £200k each. If this is the same trail, he is getting £25k extra for each one.”

  “So, the other payments haven’t been made yet?”

  “Which means, this is live. Something is happening now.”

  “Bloody hell, Clark. Can they really be doing this? If these are the same people that are trying to kill Anya, are they doing it to clear up their old scam before they start on a new batch?”

  “I am sorry to say it mate, but yes, I think this is exactly what is happening and your visit to the clinic probably accelerated their plans.”

  Rob sat with his head in his hands. He didn’t know how much more he could take. Clark gave him some time. He knew their relationship was on a knife-edge. Rob finally spoke again.

  “How do we find out more? Prove that this is the same conspiracy?”

  Clark knew this was the moment that would make or break their relationship.

  “Well, you have to be happy with me hacking to get wherever I need to go, to find out whatever we need to know. I have to continue to break the law and you need to be happy with that, if you want to protect Anya and have any chance of exposing this thing. You have kind of condoned my behaviour by being here… twice… so I need you to make a decision. Are you with me or not? Do you trust me that we won’t get caught or are your morals just too damn compromised?”

  It was a great speech but Clark still couldn’t tell whether it had done the job.

  Rob sat there, gazing out of the window. He knew Clark was right but he was so ill-equipped to deal with this. His life had been so simple. Meeting Anya was the latest step in a nice ordered life that had not experienced any real kinks. The solid law-abiding foundations that his parents had brought him up on were now being tested beyond his limits. He just didn’t have it in him to break the law but he had never experienced such horror, such apparent evil. If he was going to stick with Clark, he was going to have to operate way out of his comfort zone. Eventually, he decided.

  “Oh, fuck it. Let’s do it. I will not have anyone hurting my beautiful Anya. Let’s nail these bastards.”

  They agreed to finish for the night and reconvene soon. This opened up a whole new set of leads and if this thing was happening now, the clock was ticking. They both knew that this presented as much of an opportunity as it did a threat. Could they somehow catch these bastards red handed?

  38

  He wrestled his hungover body out of bed and set off for the hospital. He knew his dad would not tolerate any more mistakes.

  As he went up to the level where Anya was incarcerated, he tried not to raise suspicion as he edged as close to the outer door of the ward as he could. The door was operated by a security buzzer that had to be released by one of the staff but there was a small window in the door that he could look through, which gave him a decent view into Anya’s room. As he had when he had scouted the ward before, he could see Anya lying down, apparently still in a coma.

  There was a man sitting by her bed. That must be the man his dad was talking about.

  “Can I help you?”

  He almost jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him. He turned around to face a rather stern-looking nurse. He had to think quick.

  “Oh sorry, I think I am lost. I am looking for Ward 5c.”

  “It is down one flight of stairs and turn right as you come out of the stairwell,” she helpfully instructed him with a look that said she wasn’t sure she believed that is what he really wanted.

  He made a rapid exit in the direction she had instructed and cursed himself for being sloppy again. His dad would not be impressed. After such a successful run, he was dropping the ball all over the place.

  He stopped in the stairwell and composed himself. He would try to watch the ward door from as inconspicuous a place as he could. He wanted to follow this man and find out where he went.

  The nurse went into the ward and immediately spoke to Rob.

  “There was a man outside peering into this room. When I asked him what he wanted he said he was looking for another ward. He left as soon as I gave him directions.”

  Rob’s heart sank.

  “What did he look like?”

  “Quite handsome, looked posh, fair hair, about six feet tall.”

  Rob dashed out of the ward and looked around. No one seemed to be out of place. The description the nurse had given sounded alarmingly like the mystery man in the picture gallery that was on Clark’s board.

  It was nearly time to go. He went back into the ward, said goodbye to Anya and thanked the nurse for her vigilance but said he couldn’t see the man anywhere.

  Rob wasn’t seeing Clark tonight so decided to go straight home.

  *

  He had been peering out of the stairwell door at the ward door when, all of a sudden, the man appeared, wide-eyed and desperate, scanning the space outside. He quickly closed the door he was standing behind. He hoped he had not been seen. He waited a couple of minutes and risked peering out again. The man had gone. He was just considering his options when the ward door opened again and the man came out, bag in hand, as if he was leaving. He watched the man go to the lifts and press LG. He was going to the car park on the lower ground floor. He quickly ran down the stairs hoping he could get to the car park, where he too
had his car, before the man appeared.

  He was really out of breath as he emerged into the car park, just as the lift dinged to announce its arrival. He ducked behind the nearest vehicle and peered over it to see the man step out of the lift and approach his car a few feet away. He would have to stay where he was and run to his car, which was somewhat further away, hoping he could get out and catch the man’s trail before he got too far ahead.

  The man quickly got in his black Audi A3 and drove away. He jumped out from his hiding place and ran to his own car on the far edge of the car park, got in and sped off in pursuit. He couldn’t see the Audi anywhere and the Reading traffic along the A4 was chock-a-block. He joined the crawling traffic and pondered his options. He knew where Anya lived and thought it was a pretty good bet that this man lived with her. This would mean he would be heading to the A4074 towards Oxford.

  He crawled through the rush-hour traffic and followed the roads out of Reading, over the Caversham Bridge, to pick up the road that would eventually become the A4074. As the road emerged out of the built-up area and the procession picked up speed, he peered ahead to see if there was any sign. At first, he thought he had made another cock-up, but as the road weaved its way along, he thought he caught sight of it. He was five cars behind and the twists and turns were not helping but as they emerged out of a wooded area onto a long, straight bit of road, two cars slipped into a right-turn lane and he was left with a clear view of the Audi. He did a fist pump and followed at a distance.

  Rob was tootling along the road contemplating what to have for dinner when he looked in his rear-view mirror and did a double take. About four cars back, he was sure he could see a black 4x4. He kept driving, trying to keep an eye on this car, which seemed to be going in the same direction as him.

  Jesus, am I being tailed?

  He kept looking every few seconds. It was still there. He tried to talk himself down from the growing terror he was feeling.

  Come on Rob, stop being paranoid. There are hundreds of black 4x4s.

 

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