BOX SET of THREE TOP 10 MEDICAL THRILLERS

by Ian C. P. Irvine

  "What did he say?"

  "He confirmed most of what you told me. He speaks highly of you. Told me he saved your life."

  "True. He got a medal for it. Deserved it too."

  "I'm curious. You told him everything, but not me? Do you not think that it would have been better to have just come out with it all, right at the beginning?"

  Peter stared at him.

  "Would you have, if you were me? I mean, you arrested me. You didn't believe the story about the clairvoyant...how on earth did I know you would believe me if I told you the truth?"

  "You didn't."

  "Exactly."

  Neither of them said anything for a few moments.

  "The German...?" Alex asked.

  "What about him?"

  "You saw a vision of your 'KK' killing a German?"

  "Yes. But it doesn't make sense. How can he have killed a German soldier? KK was a young man. The war ended a million years ago."

  "Are you sure that's what you saw?"

  "Yes! I can close my eyes right now and see it again, any time I want. Forget Video-on-Demand. I've got 'Murder-on-Demand'. It's just a shame it's wasted on me!"

  .

  They sat talking with each other for another twenty minutes. It was funny. Peter could sense that Alex was wanting to or at least trying to be a little more friendly, but that he just couldn't let himself do it. Peter knew that he was still a suspect: 'probably guilty until proven innocent'.

  At 11.20 p.m. the landlord called time, and they both rose to head up to their rooms.

  "I'll see you at breakfast Peter," Alex said. "And afterwards, we'll go to the station and try and track down this consultant of yours in Edinburgh. Hopefully we'll have some more news about the body up by the waterfall. And if we are really lucky, maybe we can get a DNA match between the body in Wales and the blood from Ironbridge."

  "I'll look forward to it."

  .

  Twenty minutes later Peter was in bed. As he drifted off to sleep, his mind filled with lots of different thoughts. He thought about Carolina, about making love to her in the same bed earlier that day. He thought about Susie and what she had said to him on the phone.

  Peter missed her.

  Then he thought about Carolina again.

  Shit.

  What a mess.

  .

  Trying to find something else to think about, his thoughts wandered back to the film Gladiator. Almost without realising it, he started to recall the scene in his mind where the Gladiator stuck the knife into the Emperor's throat. What must it feel like to kill another man like that?

  Then, from out of nowhere, the number '7' appeared in his mind.

  He was still trying to figure out what that meant, when he fell asleep.

  Chapter Eighty One

  .

  .

  Police Station

  Knutsford

  May 6th

  10.30 a.m.

  .

  .

  Dr Stephen Jamieson sat in the video conferencing room at the hospital, nervously awaiting for the link to become live and the police station in Knutsford to appear at the other end of the connection.

  The doctor didn't even know where Knutsford was. All he knew was that it was somewhere in England, and that one of his patients, Peter Nicolson, was being interviewed there in connection with a string of serial murders. Peter Nicolson was one of the first patients of SP-X4 to show the symptoms that were now beginning to plague his daily existence.

  Last night he had been called in the middle of the night to talk to a doctor who was dealing with a suicide attempt. The young man had taken an overdose, had been found by his wife on the very edge of life, and had later asked for Dr Jamieson specifically. It turned out to be the young man who had received the heart transplant and was, like Peter Nicolson, suffering in a very negative way from dreams and hallucinations. They had sedated him, and Dr Jamieson had promised to see him in a week's time once he was let out of hospital.

  Thankfully, the rest of his patients were not suffering so negatively. Their experiences were strange, peculiar, even paranormal, but not so distressing.

  .

  While Dr Jamieson waited, he had a chance to reflect upon the action he had decided to take.

  The call with Dr White and the Vice President of StemPharma Corporation had gone well. Better than expected. However, even though Dr White had gone a long way in helping Stephen to understand what SP-X4 did, how it functioned, and what the effect on patients was, Stephen felt convinced that no one really truly understood the mechanism that created the migration of memories and physical characteristics and attributes from the organ donor to the recipient. Dr White of StemPharma had even admitted it.

  They were playing with the unknown. Meddling with 'the building blocks of life itself.'

  What right did he have to withhold such information from his patients or the MHRA?

  Which meant the Dr Jamieson really had no choice but to continue in his plan to write to the MHRA and recommend a full enquiry and further research.

  However, such a course of action was problematic.

  If the MHRA suspended the drug's usage in the UK, people would die who would otherwise certainly have survived. Yet, it was his job to report feedback which concerned him, and this concerned him.

  Greatly.

  "Hello, Dr Jamieson..."

  A voice interrupted his thoughts, and looking up he immediately recognised his patient Peter Nicolson on the Polycom video conferencing screen on the wall which had just become live.

  "Ah Peter...it's good to see you. You look very well indeed! I want to ask you how you are, but first, could you introduce me to the gentleman beside you, so that I at least know what we are here for?"

  "Doctor, thanks for agreeing to see us at short notice...I know you had to cancel another meeting this morning, but I'm afraid I had no choice but to reach out to you for help. Before I explain everything, can I introduce you to Constable Alex Gibbs, and Constable Davis? I am currently in a little village in England called Knutsford, helping the police with their enquiries into a series of brutal murders...for which I am a suspect."

  Peter looked across at Alex as he spoke, watching for a reaction. Sadly, there was none.

  "Hello Dr Jamieson. It is good to meet you. I hope you don't mind our request to meet with you as soon as possible, and since the Lothian NHS and our police force are both using Polycom video conferencing, it seemed like the most sensible thing to do, rather than us driving all the way up to see you!"

  "Absolutely. Why waste time travelling to a meeting when you can just let the meeting come to you!"

  "Agreed. Anyway, now that the introductions are over, I am afraid we have some rather unpleasant news for you. I was forced to arrest Peter last week on suspicion of murder. I later dropped the charges, but a colleague was yesterday considering re-arresting him in connection with another murder that Peter has brought to our attention. Peter insists that there is actually an explanation for it all, although this is rather difficult to believe or understand. Apparently, you can perhaps help in this matter. Peter, can you please continue...?"

  Peter could see the confusion on the consultant's face. He felt sorry for him, and rather guilty that he had perhaps not told him everything openly and honestly before.

  Over the next hour Peter told him everything that had happened. At the end of it the consultant sat for a few minutes, obviously shocked.

  When he spoke, his voice was shaking.

  "Peter, I am so sorry. I wish you had told me all of this previously. This is all rather unfortunate. So much suffering. I wish there had been more I could have done to help, but I had no idea..."

  The consultant turned to the constable. During the next ten minutes he spoke most highly of the character of Peter, the treatment he had undergone, providing a confirmation of the times that Peter had been to him since the operation, looking for help and explaining to him what was happening to him, albeit without exp
laining to the doctor any details about the murders and what he had seen in his dreams.

  The consultant verified that such experiences were happening to others, even others within his own care, and that the NHS were currently conducting investigations into the cause and effect of these experiences. Dr Jamieson was careful not to mention the conversations with StemPharma, which would have been unprofessional.

  The doctor also stated that whereas he could not promise that Peter had not committed the murders, -in fact, he had no way of knowing whether he had or not-, that these were extremely difficult circumstances which were quite frankly taking place on the very edge of human understanding and science. In short, he believed that what Peter was saying was true. He recommended that the constable do everything he could to scientifically rule Peter out of the murders ( i.e. "DNA analysis of any blood samples, establishing timescales and corresponding alibis for the murders" ), and promised to act as a medical and personal witness for Peter if it ever became necessary.

  As the meeting drew to a close, Peter felt happy with the support that the doctor had given him. He also understood that he could not have done more.

  "Thanks Dr Jamieson. I appreciate your time today," Constable Gibbs said. "...If I may have a few more minutes, however, Peter has also requested that I initiate a formal process with you and the NHS to request that you provide us with the details and identity of the person from whom his kidneys were received. Peter tells me that you have the identity of his donor on your file. It's important to our police investigations that you provide us with this identity. It could also help Peter enormously, if we can identify the killer as soon as possible. We will of course follow the formal procedures if we must, but given that could take some considerable time, I was hoping that you could perhaps tell us today, now that this is all official police business?"

  The consultant on the screen in Edinburgh looked visibly flustered. Peter, Alex and Constable Davis could see him lean forward and sort through a number of papers in a file on his desk.

  He then selected one and picked it up, and read it silently to himself.

  The consultant coughed.

  "I am afraid that even though this is police business I would still have to insist that you would go through the official process. Normally I simply could not reveal to you a donor's identity, merely because you asked for it. Believe me, I would be most happy to do so, if I were allowed, especially given the circumstances. However..."

  The consultant paused, obviously considering if he should say more. Peter sensed that he was going to say something important. Was this going to be the moment when he discovered KK's identity, in spite of all the blue tape? Was the consultant going to cut him some slack and put him out of his misery, and end this nightmare once and for all?

  Peter leant forward on the desk, "Dr Jamieson, anything that you can tell us would be truly appreciated. Please..."

  Dr Jamieson looked up. He could sense that Peter was almost pleading with him for help. His heart went out to him. He wanted to tell him what he could...but there was a problem.

  A big problem.

  "Peter, I don't know how to tell you this. I really want to help. I really do...however, I don't think that I can. And I wonder if you will ever really be able to identify who your donor was. You see, I received a letter from the coroner last week in reply to the letter that I promised you that I would write to him. His letter gave me some more news on the donor. Although the coroner has not provided any specific details, he has merely informed me that after several months the police were at last able to contact someone new who knew the deceased donor. Up until then no one had been able to positively identify the body. It had been suspected that the deceased man had been from New Zealand. It turns out, however, that this is not the case. When the police arranged for a viewing of the body, the person who viewed the deceased was able to categorically state that the body was NOT the person that it was previously thought to be. It would seem that the deceased was, for some reason that is not yet understood, simply carrying the wallet of the person we previously suspected the body of being. A car was found nearby that was also registered to the suspected deceased, therefore the local police had suspected, quite logically, that the body belonged to the person identified within the wallet and by the registration plates of the car."

  Peter exhaled loudly, slumping back in his chair, trying to comprehend exactly what was being said by the consultant.

  "The good news was," Dr Jamieson continued, "...that the person who viewed the body actually knew the identity of the deceased. It was not the person they had been led to believe it was: it was in fact someone else that they knew."

  Peter sat up in his chair. This was excellent news after all!

  "...Unfortunately...when the police then investigated the new identity of the deceased, as confirmed by the witness, they tried to track down the relatives of the newly identified person, only to discover that the relatives were very happy to confirm that that person was still alive!"

  "I don't understand? What on earth are you telling me?" Peter asked, leaning forward again.

  Constable Gibbs and Constable Davis also sat bolt upright. Constable Davis, looking even more concerned and confused than either of the other two.

  "I'm really sorry, Peter, but I'm also struggling to get to grips with this one... The coroner's letter then goes on to state that the identity that was being used by the person whose body had been identified by the witness, was in fact, a stolen identity. This news shocked the witness. It would seem that the deceased had been living under an assumed identity for quite a while. Even his friends did not know who he truly was. All the searches of dental records and medical records had also drawn a blank. It seems that the deceased was a ghost. He didn't exist. Or at least, didn't want to be identified!"

  Peter's eyes lit up.

  "...Which is exactly what you would expect, if he were a serial killer! Which also maybe explains how he got away with it for so long. No one could track him down, because he obviously assumed the identity of others. Which is also possibly why he was discovered with the wallet of someone else...he had either stolen it, or had recently assumed that person's identity too!"

  Constable Davis gestured to Constable Gibbs, then whispered something to him quietly.

  Constable Gibbs nodded, whispered something quietly in reply, then spoke aloud to them all.

  "This is all very, very complicated. I agree with Peter, on his last observation though. Not that I am now saying that I totally accept Peter's story, and the premise that the serial killer is now somehow communicating with Peter and leading us to the victims he murdered during his life...but were it the case, then 'yes', potentially what you have described could fit the profile of a killer. Dr Jamieson, is there anything else that you can tell us? Can I have a copy of the correspondence you have from the coroner? Is there anything else in there that could help us?"

  "The short answer to that is no. As in 'no; you can't have a copy of the correspondence'..."

  "I know," Constable Gibbs interrupted, "...'without going through the proper process'. Which could take months."

  "I'm sorry. However, rest assured, there is little in here that would help you. There are no names, no details. I would suggest you contact the coroner directly. I will have my secretary call you later today with all the details of whom you should write to or call."

  "That would be greatly appreciated."

  "Dr Jamieson, I have another question, so long as Peter here is happy for you to answer it. Peter, if you are, please say so for the record. The question I have for Dr Jamieson is, can you please tell me officially what Peter's blood group is?"

  Peter frowned and made a questioning look with his face, but nodded.

  "No problem. I'm comfortable with that. Please tell Constable Gibbs, Dr Jamieson."

  The Dr looked quickly at the file in front of him and then replied.

  "Peter is O-".

  "Excellent. That's another step forward in us
helping rule Peter out from our suspicions. I believe it is okay if I inform you that the blood group of the blood we found on the spade and on the rubber matting is O+".

  "...Which is still in line with what I have told you." Peter interrupted. "A donor with blood group O+ can donate an organ to a person with an 'O-' blood group!"

  Constable Gibbs looked at Dr Jamieson, who nodded back and said "Yes, that is correct."

  Constable Davis leant across and said something quietly to Alex again.

  "I am very sorry, gentleman, but Constable Davis wishes to speak with me urgently." Alex said. "We will have to duck out of the call..."

  Fearing the call was just about to end abruptly, Peter interrupted Alex.

  "Dr Jamieson...I need to talk to you urgently about my medication. Face to face. As soon I can I will be coming back to Edinburgh...Can I meet you?"

  "Absolutely, Peter. Just call me when you get back. You have my number. I'm sorry you are going through all this. Truly."

  There was a quick round of thanks and goodbyes, and then Constable Gibbs hit a button on the Polycom video conferencing terminal. The screen went dead.

  Alex spoke into the voice recording unit, ending the formal taping of the meeting, then stood up and walked to the door, holding it open for Peter.

  Peter followed.

  "So?" Peter asked.

  "You are free to go. For now. But please don't leave town. I will be speaking with the forensics department this evening. They have promised me some results. Hopefully, after that we can release you from further suspicion. Then you will be free to go, anywhere you wish!"

  Chapter Eighty Two

  .

  .

  The Fox and Hounds

  Knutsford

  May 7th

  1.00 p.m.

  .

  .

  Peter was sitting in the pub, slightly annoyed because his usual seat had been taken by a gang of rather rowdy, loud mouthed builders and workers. When the landlord brought across the Ploughman's lunch that he had ordered, he apologised for their behaviour, but admitted that he was glad for the custom.