BOX SET of THREE TOP 10 MEDICAL THRILLERS

by Ian C. P. Irvine

Maybe, tonight, Mr Wallace would invite Robert in for a cup of tea, and blow his head off with a shot gun instead.

  Rumours were rife about who was in the CRAIGMILLAR RESIDENTS FOR LAW AND ORDER 'CREW'. No one suspected Mr Wallace of being a member, but maybe he would have tipped them off, and perhaps they would be waiting inside for Robert as soon as he went inside the house. Assuming of course, that he was going to be invited in.

  Yet, as the same time as being scared, Robert was also excited. It was difficult to describe exactly what he was experiencing, but Robert had felt a warmth inside his chest that he would later identify as a form of pride. Robert was proud of himself for facing real danger in returning the medal to Mr Wallace. He had faced a rite of initiation that many men do at some point in their young lives, where they recognise a danger in front of them, and yet still face death in order to do 'what is considered right'. Except Robert was now doing it again, for the second night in a row.

  The excitement also stemmed from the very real possibility that Mr Wallace may decide to forgive Robert, instead of handing him over to the police or the militia from Craigmillar. And if Mr Wallace did forgive Robert, he would be free to live any life he chose. To start again. To find the Robert that God had intended him to be, not the pathetic creature that the estate had morphed him into being.

  He rang the door bell.

  He waited.

  Then he heard the footsteps.

  The door opened.

  A soldier was standing in the doorway. Tall, straight, and proud.

  It was slightly dark in Mr Wallace's vestibule, and at first Robert did not recognise the soldier that stood in front of him.

  The man spoke.

  "Please come in Robert."

  As he followed the soldier into the house, he noticed with shock that the soldier was not young, but old. That he walked slowly, almost with a limp. And when the soldier entered the front room of the house and turned to face Robert, illuminated by the light from the ceiling, Robert saw that the solider was none other than Mr Wallace.

  He was shaved, dressed in full military uniform, and proudly wearing his Victoria Cross on his chest.

  Robert stood in front of Mr Wallace, his mouth wide open, the surprise so complete, that Mr Wallace burst into a big smile.

  "You didnie recognise me, lad, did ye?"

  "No...no I didn't...wow! Mr Wallace, you look amazing. Unbelievable. Bloody hell, it's incredible..."

  "It's my old uniform. I've kept it all these years. I put it on once a year on Remembrance Day, or for special anniversaries. Or today, which will likely be the last time I am going to wear it. But enough of that...for now...please, please come in and take a seat. I'll be back in a second. I'm going tae make us both a braw cup of tea. And then we can talk."

  "No, please Mr Wallace. Please let me make you a cup of tea. Let me serve you? It might sound silly, but it would be an honour fir me to serve you, Sir. Please?"

  Mr Wallace smiled.

  "Aye lad, okay. You'll find everything ye need in the kitchen ben the house. Mind that I dinnie like it too strong like. And I wid like twa sugars. Please."

  Mr Wallace walked to his chair, took off his soldier's hat, and sat down.

  Five minutes later Robert returned, put a tray down on the coffee table in front of the fireplace, and started to pour Mr Wallace a cup of tea. He stood up, placed the cup and saucer on the small table beside Mr Wallace's armchair in the corner, and then offered Mr Wallace a digestive.

  "Wow...I'm getting right royal treatment tonight!" Mr Wallace exclaimed.

  "It's nowt ye dinnie deserve, Mr Wallace. And I'm still very, very sorry for everything I did to ye. Honest to God, I am!"

  Robert sat down on the sofa opposite Mr Wallace, and for a moment they both looked at each other. Neither said anything.

  Mr Wallace ate a digestive, drank some tea, and sat watching Robert, appraising the man in front of him.

  Robert coughed nervously, and then drank his tea too.

  A clock was ticking loudly on the mantelpiece and Robert looked up, seeing that the glass on the front of it was broken. A sudden pang of guilt swept through him, as he realised that it had been broken by himself when he ransacked the room as he robbed it, the clock cast needlessly to the floor and smashed.

  Mr Wallace saw the change in expression on Robert's face, and followed his gaze to the clock above the fire.

  Robert was standing on his feet now, rummaging through his pockets, trying to pull out some money.

  "Mr Wallace, I'm really sorry. I broke your clock. It was me, I think. I havenie got much cash, but I want ye to have what I've got so that ye can pay for it tae be fixed. Here, I'll put what I've got on the table for ye. I'm sorry. I cannie explain how daft I wiz back then, but please take this."

  Mr Wallace looked at the small pile of change that Robert had emptied onto his table. Instinctively Mr Wallace knew that this was probably all the money that Robert had in the world at the moment. It might not be much, but the few odd pounds that sat silently on the table beside the teapot spoke mountains. It was a sincere, honest and desperate act of repentance. Mr Wallace recognised it for was it was, and accepted it.

  "Please, Robert, put away yir money, lad." He hesitated.

  "Listen to me Robert, I will not accept your money. But, Robert, I will and I have accepted this and yir other, earlier apology. I forgive you son, for what ye did to me. It's in the past noo, and we'll no be mentioning it again. Ever."

  Robert stared at Mr Wallace. Tears suddenly welled up in his eyes, and he bowed his head, silent tears falling into hands that he cupped around his face.

  "Mr Wallace, " Robert said, wiping his tears away. "I cannot tell you how much this means to me. I've changed. I'm no the same person now as I wiz, and now I can start my life all over again. You have set me free, Mr Wallace. You have saved my life. You might no understand what I'm trying to say, but it's true. Thank you. Honestly, thank you!"

  "Robert, wheesht now. Wipe awa yir tears. We have some serious talking to do now. Man to man. And there isnie much time to do it. Some more friends o' mine will be arriving later. I want ye to meet them!"

  For a moment, Mr Wallace saw concern flash in Robert's eyes.

  "Ye neednie worry, lad. I promise ye, they're just friends. I will bring no harm to you. Ye can relax. I've forgiven you. But we need to talk, son. I can see so much in you that was like me, when I was your age. You and I have a lot in common, son. A lot."

  Robert's eyes lit up. "Honestly?" He beamed. "...Do you think that I could ever be like you Mr Wallace? Seriously, I would really appreciate any advice that someone like you could give to a man like me who is just starting out in life. I dinnie want to make any more stupid, fucking..sorry, Mr Wallace, for swearing like, ...but I just don't want to make any more mistakes."

  "We all make mistakes son. And that's alright. It's how we learn. What's important though is that we don't make the same mistakes twice. That we don't hurt other people, needlessly, and that wherever we go, we try to make sure that when we leave, the people we leave behind are happy to have known us!"

  "Robert, we dinnie have much time. Before the others arrive, I wid like you to explain to me a little bit about who ye are...Your past, your family...What your plans are. What you wid like to do if you could? Are ye coming back to the estate to live, or are you going somewhere else?"

  Robert paused, hesitating...then started to speak more honestly with another human being than he had ever done so before.

  For some reason, he really trusted Mr Wallace now. It felt if somehow a connection had been formed between them that had some real meaning.

  Mr Wallace could have handed Robert over to the mob or to the police, but instead, he was showing a real interest in who Robert was. Perhaps Mr Wallace could really help guide him to become someone new. Someone worthy of self-respect!

  Robert talked. Openly. He shed a few tears. And towards the end he explained that he would be leaving the estate, because he knew that if he
stayed he would have no future, but if he left, the world was his oyster.

  One day, when he had some money, he would go to France. That was his dream. Tomorrow though, he would return to Gavin and Stacey at the commune. Grow some more. Learn some more about God..."Don't laugh, Mr Wallace...I think it's important!"

  But Mr Wallace didn't laugh.

  He listened. He nodded. And he grew to like Robert even more than he had liked him the day before.

  By the time the conversation was finished and the first person rang the doorbell at 9 p.m., Mr Wallace knew that his job on the estate was done: The CME Team no longer existed; every member of the gang was now dead. Never to return.

  Chapter Ninety Three

  .

  .

  The Craigmillar Estate

  Mr Wallace's House

  May 8th

  9.00 p.m.

  .

  .

  Peter and Susie walked up the path to Mr Wallace's house, neither knowing what to expect or why they had been summoned. They were just about to ring the bell, when a police motorcycle pulled up outside the gate, and Sergeant Angus stepped off, removing his helmet and waving at them.

  Susie and Peter walked down the path to meet him.

  "Hi, good to see you both. Peter, so how was it down in England? I got a couple of phone calls from a Constable Gibbs. I hear you found some more bodies? Hopefully it didn't get too uncomfortable?"

  " 'Yes' to finding more bodies, and 'yes' to it getting very uncomfortable. But, it all worked out well in the end. I'm in the clear, we've identified the killer, and now there's probably only one more thing to do, before I can move on with my life. Susie and I are both going to see the consultant at the hospital as soon as we leave here tonight. I've got an appointment at 10.30 p.m. It's a bit of an emergency. Anyway, let's meet up later this week, and I can tell you everything that has happened. You won't believe it."

  "Great idea. And good luck with the hospital meeting later. Were you asked to come to see Mr Wallace tonight as well, or is this just a surprise visit?" Sergeant Angus asked, as he finished taking his gloves off and shook hands with them.

  "We were asked to come. You too? Any idea what it's about?"

  "No, but I think we'll find out soon enough."

  Susie rang the doorbell, and they all waited.

  None of them had the faintest inkling of the surprise that was waiting for them in the next hour.

  .

  The door opened, and Mr Wallace stepped slowly forward, smiling. He saw the look of surprise on the faces of his guests, and for a moment he felt proud, pushing his chest out a wee bit more, so that his Victoria Cross would be that little bit more prominent.

  Peter, Susie and the Sergeant at first all stared at the soldier on the doorstep, but when recognising that it was Mr Wallace, their eyes were immediately drawn to the medal on his chest.

  Susie let out an involuntary whoop of joy, and Peter and the Sergeant smiled.

  "You got it back!" Peter exclaimed.

  "Congratulations," the Sergeant added.

  "...And you look absolutely fantastic Mr Wallace! Just great! Peter, we've got to take a photograph. Thank God you brought your camera!" Susie said excitedly.

  "First things first," Mr Wallace replied, beaming. "Come awa in, and let's get you all a cup o' tea. But first, I must have your promise, that when you come in, you will no dae anything rash? There's a wee surprise waiting for ye all, and he's my guest. I asked him to come. So dinnie do anything stupid, please...Okay?"

  They all nodded, intrigued. Mr Wallace ushered them in, and they followed him slowly into the front room.

  .

  A tall, young man was standing by the window. At first they did not recognise him, but then with a shout, catching the others completely by surprise, Peter leapt at the man, swinging a punch at him and knocking him to the ground.

  "You BASTARD!" Peter shouted, pulling back his fist to hit him again.

  The young man, now lying on the floor by the window, just looked up at Peter, and turned the other cheek. Peter saw the action, and hesitated, and before he could do anything else, the Sergeant and Susie had jumped at him, restraining his raised arm, and holding it back.

  "Big Wig Rab!" Peter screamed loudly, anger and fury engulfing him faster than he could ever have believed possible, driving all reason and logical thought out of his body. "I swore I'd kill you if I ever saw you again, you fucking cunt, and I bloody will. You tried to kill me, and I am going to kill you now!"

  The number '7' flashed in his mind, and Peter stood up, storming out of the flat, before anyone could stop him.

  As soon as he was outside the door, Peter broke into a trot, hurrying down the garden path and across the road to where his car was parked. He opened the boot of the car, rummaged inside his rucksack and pulled out the ceramic white knife.

  No. '7'.

  He would fulfil his quota after all.

  Slamming the boot closed he turned and ran back across the road, and was met at the bottom of the garden path by Susie who blocked the way in through the gate.

  "Peter! What's come over you? What on earth are you doing?"

  "I'm going to kill that bastard. Once he's gone, I'll find peace. Peter will find peace. It will be over..."

  "Peter? What do you mean?" Susie saw the look in his eye. She hardly recognised the man in front of him.

  "Step aside, woman. Let me past." Peter shouted, waving his arm in the air.

  Susie saw the knife, and immediately knew what was going to happen. Peter's eyes were fully dilated, and he looked a mad man, not the man she knew... or loved. This was not Peter. This was someone else completely.

  And then it dawned on her who it was: when Peter had met Susie an hour ago at his flat in Lochend, he had quickly explained all about the bag, the contents, and brought her right up to date.

  Susie knew who the person was in front of her now, and she knew that he was going to kill Big Wee Rab. But how could she stop him?

  Susie lunged at Peter, grabbing the arm with the knife, and screaming.

  "Maciek, stop. Stop!"

  Peter's head jerked down towards her, and for an instant Susie saw something flicker in Peter's eyes.

  "Maciek! You cannot do this. Not now. This is not your body. This is Peter's. Let him go! Give him back!"

  For a moment Susie felt the strength go out of Peter's arm, and in the same instant Susie twisted his thumb backwards, and knocked the knife forwards and out of his hand, just as she had been taught in her self-defence classes. The knife fell to the ground, and Susie immediately kicked it under the hedge, away from Peter.

  Susie grabbed hold of Peter's arms, and stared into his eyes.

  "Peter, ...fight back...push Maciek out of your mind." Susie shouted.

  She saw the confusion register in the eyes of the man in front of her.

  "Peter, I love you! I love you! Come back to me now. Now!"

  The man shook his head, at the same time, pushing forward against her, and brushing her to the side.

  Suddenly Sergeant Angus grabbed Peter's other arm, quickly tripped him up and wrestled him to the ground, immediately spinning him over and pinning a pair of handcuffs on him.

  "Peter!...Sorry...it's for your own protection!" the Sergeant shouted, sitting on his legs, and letting Susie bend forward across his chest.

  Peter's eyes were darting from side to side, from Susie to the Sergeant and back again, his chest was heaving and he was breathing heavily.

  Susie leant forward and stroked his cheek.

  "Maciek leave. It's too late now. Your time has passed. You're dead. DEAD!", then more softly. "Peter, please, I love you. Find the strength, fight...come back, please..."

  Lowering herself to his lips, she kissed him once, slowly and forcibly, and then drew back.

  Peter stared at her, his head shaking, his eyes flickering...

  Then his eyes rolled up into the back of his skull, his eyelids closed, and he passed out.

>   .

  A few minutes later, Peter was lying on the sofa, with Big Wee Rab momentarily banished to the kitchen.

  Susie was washing Peter's face with cold water and stroking his cheek.

  "I think we should call an ambulance," the Sergeant suggested.

  "No," Susie replied. "Just give him a moment. He's breathing fine, and I think he will be okay. A few minutes,...then if he's not back with us, then..."

  Peter's eyes flickered open. He blinked a few times, looked around the room and then settled on Susie.

  Susie smiled back.

  "What happened?" Peter asked.

  "You can't remember?"

  Peter thought for a second...

  "I just remember coming into the room, and then I must have fainted. Why?"

  "You saw someone. Someone you don't like?"

  "Who?" Peter asked, frowning.

  "Listen, don't panic when I tell you. Everything is fine. The man you saw and will see again in a second, if you want, is a friend now. Apparently he's totally different than he was before. Mr Wallace has promised us that if we give him a chance to speak, we will understand. He just wants us to meet him and listen to him for a while and hear his side of the story for ourselves."

  Peter blinked, trying to sit up, but quickly realising that his arms were pinned behind his back. As he fell back onto the sofa, he remembered something.

  "A man, ...there was a man...Big Wee Rab! Bloody hell, it was Big Wee Rab!" he exclaimed, trying to sit up again, and once again falling backwards onto the sofa.

  "What's the matter with my hands? I can't move them..."

  "You're handcuffed Peter. Sorry. It was for our protection. You went a little daft there for a while." The sergeant explained, stepping forward.

  "Peter, " Mr Wallace began. "…things have changed, a lot. Big Wee Rab no longer exists. I will explain it all to you...Sergeant Angus, please help Peter up into a seated position. Maybe best keep the handcuffs on for now, until we're sure he's safe...? Meanwhile, I will go and make us all that tea. When I come back, we'll all sit down, and I will tell you all about Robert- you'll understand shortly- and I then want to talk to you about something else..."

  .