The Loch

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The Loch Page 24

by Heather Atkinson


  “That’s good to know,” said Mike.

  “Isla, I need to take your statement but only when you’re ready. You just let me know when that is.”

  “I can’t talk about it, not yet,” she gasped.

  “Like I said, whenever you’re ready,” he replied kindly.

  “How’s Hannah?” she asked.

  “She’s fine. She was injected with a tranquiliser but she’s regained consciousness. Like yourself she’s dehydrated but that’s it.”

  “And Will?”

  “Still in surgery to repair the artery. I’ve asked the staff to keep me informed.”

  “Could I have a word in private?” Mike asked Stewart.

  “Don’t leave me Mike,” said Isla, gripping harder onto his hand.

  “I need to talk to the inspector just for a minute.”

  “I can’t be on my own.”

  “Well,” said Stewart. “I brought someone with me who’ll be happy to sit with you.”

  “Isla,” cried Ross, whipping aside the curtain and lunging towards his sister for a hug.

  “Ross,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

  “I won’t be long honey,” Mike told her.

  “You won’t go far, will you?”

  “I won’t go off the ward, promise.”

  “Well, okay.” She knew he wanted to discuss something with the inspector that would upset her and she wasn’t up to hearing it.

  “The Colonel’s feet aren’t a size four,” began Mike once they were out of earshot of Isla. “And the cries I heard at the cottage were definitely female, meaning someone else left Isla’s clothes at the cottage.”

  “I know,” replied Stewart. “Plus the Colonel was at Loch Long when Hannah’s coat was left in her garden. He must have an accomplice. We’ve already asked him about it but he’s refusing to talk. I’m half-tempted to follow your example and smash the arrogant bastard’s other foot with a hammer. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone I said that.”

  “Course I won’t.”

  “Any idea who it could be? Despite what I said before, it seems you do have some detective skills after all.”

  “Absolutely no idea, although it’s more likely to be a woman, isn’t it?” He thought of Joyce slipping her trainers onto Isla’s feet. “Joyce is a size four. She gave Isla her trainers and they fit perfectly, she even pointed it out.”

  “Really? Interesting. I’ll have a word with her personally. I’m having all the residents of Strachur interviewed one by one. We’ll find the accomplice, rest assured. Don’t worry about all that, you have enough on your plate. Isla has a long hard road ahead of her mentally and emotionally.”

  “And I’ll be by her side the whole way.”

  “I don’t doubt it. You never gave up, I respect that. I need to take your statement but that can wait, for now. Go be with Isla.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just one question before you go - what put you onto the Colonel and his extension?”

  “Because he knew where the spare key to Malcolm’s house was kept and he was the last one to see him alive. He told us when he left Malcolm he’d met up with alpha team but something told me he was lying.”

  “You were right. I spoke to alpha team. No one saw Malcolm after he left to talk to the Colonel.”

  “He must have known his lie would be found out.”

  “Maybe. Or he’s just so up his own arse he didn’t think anyone would question his word, a common trait among psychopaths. Well done Mike. It’s got to be said, this happy ending is down to you.”

  “I bet it took you a lot to say that.”

  “Credit where credit’s due. And yes, it bloody hurt.”

  Stewart actually gave him a smile before leaving the ward. Mike hurried back to Isla’s side. Panic gripped him when he realised he hadn’t warned Ross that he hadn’t broken the news about Robert’s body yet and he prayed he had the common sense not to bring it up when she was obviously so fragile.

  He whipped aside the curtain and was delighted to find Isla relaxed back on the bed with a small smile playing on her lips as she listened to Ross talk.

  “Mike,” she said, reaching out for his hand. “Ross was telling me about his work in Namibia. It’s fascinating. Thanks to his research we now know what the climate was like there eighteen million years ago.”

  “Very…interesting,” replied Mike.

  “You look shattered,” she told him. “Sit down.”

  He sank into the chair by her bedside, his ribs aching horribly.

  “You don’t look too good,” Ross told him.

  “Just some cracked ribs, no big deal,” he replied, forcing a smile.

  “Stewart told me you fought that bastard of a Colonel.”

  “Please,” interjected Isla, her voice slightly high-pitched. “Can we not talk about it yet?”

  “Okay, whatever you need,” said Ross, patting her hand.

  Ross continued to talk about his work. Isla listened, riveted while Mike nodded off in the chair, jumping awake when a nurse announced Isla’s bed was ready on the ward. Ross left after promising to bring them some clothes and toiletries.

  Mike walked like a zombie alongside Isla’s bed as she was wheeled up to the ward. People stared at them as they passed. Obviously the news of what had happened had spread.

  He was relieved when they were led into a private room, the blinds already drawn. A proper bed had been set up for him beside Isla’s. Mike could have cried with gratitude that he hadn’t been lumbered with a camp bed, he doubted his ribs would have taken it.

  Isla was hooked up to a fresh drip that provided fluids and liquid food to build her up and then they were left alone.

  “Finally,” said Mike, rolling onto his uninjured side to face her and taking her hand when she reached out to him.

  “Thank you for getting me out of there,” she said.

  “Anytime for you honey,” he murmured. His eyes were closing, overwhelmed with exhaustion but he fought to stay awake with everything he had. “You’re safe now. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  “I can’t remember that much, I was drugged for most of it.”

  Mike thought that could only be a blessing.

  “Sorry, I’m so tired,” she said, eyes growing heavy.

  Painfully he got to his feet and tucked the sheets in around her. “Sleep honey. You’re safe.”

  She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know.”

  He held her hand until she was sound asleep before gratefully returning to his own bed. For the first time in days he fell asleep immediately.

  She was safe.

  Mike’s body jumped when he sensed a presence standing over him. His eyes snapped open to see a dark haired figure leaning over him to peer at Isla. Acting on instinct, his hand shot out and grasped the figure by the throat.

  “Sloss, you fucking weasel,” he growled.

  The journalist’s mouth gaped as he fought for air.

  Isla didn’t stir as Mike shoved Sloss backwards out the door. He didn’t stop there, propelling him down the corridor by his neck, the few members of staff who were working at six o’clock in the morning watching them go in astonishment.

  Mike opened the ward doors using Sloss and finally came to a halt. Before the journalist could recover, Mike snatched his mobile phone from his hand and snapped it in two.

  “What the hell are you doing?” croaked Sloss, a hand to his aching neck.

  “You’re a sick bastard, taking photos of Isla when she’s asleep in her hospital bed. You’re as twisted at the Colonel.”

  “I am not.”

  “Yes you are. Get out of here before I throw you down the fucking stairs.”

  “I’m reporting you for this,” said Sloss, staggering backwards towards the lift and frantically jabbing at the button. “I’ll have you thrown in prison, you thug.”

  Sloss squeaked with fear when Mike advanced on him and
he vanished through the door that led to the stairs.

  “Asshole,” muttered Mike, returning to the ward.

  As he stepped through the doors he heard Isla calling for him, her voice echoing down the corridor, sending red spots bouncing before his eyes. Breaking into a sprint he raced into her room. A nurse was with her, attempting to calm her.

  “It’s alright honey, I’m here,” he said, taking her hand.

  “Where were you? I was so worried.”

  “Sorry. I had to see off a scumbag journalist.”

  She relaxed easier in her bed, clinging onto his hand.

  “Are you up to some breakfast?” the nurse asked her.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “The sooner you start eating the sooner you can go home.”

  “Will that be today?”

  “Your doctor certainly won’t discharge you if you don’t eat.”

  “Alright,” she sighed. “I’ll have breakfast.”

  “Lovely. What would you like?”

  “Just some toast please.”

  “No problem. Mike?”

  “Toast sounds great and some jelly too, if you’ve got it?”

  “I think we can stretch to that,” said the nurse chirpily before disappearing.

  “How are you feeling?” Mike asked Isla.

  “Much better for some sleep. I was out like a light.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “How are your ribs?”

  “Better. Don’t worry about me.”

  Isla’s fingers anxiously plucked at the sheets. “I need to know how Hannah and Will are.”

  “I’ll find out. I’m sure they’ll both be fine.”

  “I just want to go home. I feel that once I’m back home everything will be okay.”

  “You’ve been through a lot honey, you need time to heal.”

  “I’m not injured.”

  “Not physically but you’ve still been hurt.”

  Her green eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away.

  “You need to talk about it,” he said as softly as he could. “If you keep it in it’ll tear you apart. Talking will help you deal with it.”

  “You’re right, I know but…I can’t. I don’t have the words to explain how I’m feeling right now. It’s too overwhelming.”

  “Because it’s so raw. No one expects you to start dealing with it immediately but I want you to know that I am going to go through everything with you. You won’t have to face this alone, I promise.”

  A single tear spilled from the corner of her eye and rolled down her face, staining the pillow. “Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “And I always will be.” He twiddled the engagement ring on her finger. “We’ve got a wedding to plan too.”

  “I need time to recover before that Mike.”

  “I know and we’ll take all the time you need.”

  “I still want to marry you though, more than anything,” she hastily added before he thought she’d changed her mind. “But I need to be the wife you deserve.”

  “You have been, since the moment we met,” he smiled, kissing her fingers.

  She brushed his face with her fingertips. “I thought I was going to die in that wall,” she whispered. “And I was so sad that I wouldn’t get to marry you.”

  “Well you will and as soon as you’re up to it I’m making you my wife.”

  “That experience changed me Mike. I’m not the person I was.”

  “Me too honey, me too but you know what? We can explore who we are now, together.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile. “Listen to you being all sensitive, talking about your feelings.”

  “I’ve been in touch with them a lot lately, mainly trying not to collapse under the fear of losing you, which didn’t happen, thank God.”

  “You are so sweet,” she said. “But I am seriously messed up. I can feel it inside me, like a big black hurricane and I keep running away from it but it’s chasing me and it will catch me. The day it catches up with me…”

  “We’ll get you an expert, someone who can help.”

  “A psychiatrist?” she frowned.

  “I was thinking more of a counsellor.”

  “Maybe,” was all she was willing to say.

  The nurse returned with breakfast, so Mike decided to leave that topic for now. A tray was placed before Isla piled high with toast and butter.

  “And here’s yours,” said the nurse, placing Mike’s toast and a pot of wobbly jelly before him, the kind that was given to children. “It’s strawberry too,” she grinned before leaving.

  Isla giggled as he stared in dismay at the pot of jelly and it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

  “I’ve told you before to ask for jam, not jelly,” she said.

  “I wonder what it tastes like on toast?” he said, frowning at the pot.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  To his delight Isla wolfed down her toast while Mike picked at his, the pain in his ribs making him feel slightly sick.

  “Right, finished,” Isla told the nurse when she popped in to take the plates.

  “Well done Isla. Mike, you didn’t eat your jelly. We’ve got blackcurrant if you prefer? As a treat I can get you some ice cream to go with it.”

  “No thanks. I’m good.”

  “Can I go home now?” Isla asked the nurse.

  “Not until the doctor’s seen you,” she replied.

  Isla rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “DI Stewart’s here. He wondered if you’re up to talking to him yet?”

  Isla shrank back into her pillows and shook her head.

  “No problem.” The nurse looked to Mike. “He wants to talk to you too.”

  “Alright, I’ll talk to him,” he replied, thinking that might take some of the pressure off Isla.

  “Shall I send him in?”

  “Yeah, please.”

  “I don’t approve of police officers turning up so early to speak to patients but I understand he has a lot on his hands. The poor man looks exhausted.”

  She left and a minute later Stewart shambled in, the dark shadows under his eyes larger.

  “You look like shit,” commented Mike.

  “Strange because I feel wonderful,” he retorted sarcastically. “And who wouldn’t after thirty hours without sleep.”

  “How’s Will doing?”

  “He’ll be okay. He got through the surgery but he’ll be off his feet for a while.”

  “And Hannah?” said Isla.

  “Fine. She slept off the effects of the tranquiliser. She was a little dehydrated but otherwise okay. She’s not left Will’s side since he came out of surgery.”

  “Really?” said Mike.

  Stewart caught the surprise in his voice. “You knew?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Knew what?” said Isla.

  “Hannah and Alex Shaw have been having an affair,” Mike told her.

  “What?” she said, eyebrows shooting up. “I knew something was wrong but she wouldn’t talk to me.”

  “Judging by how she’s been since her husband came out of surgery she’s had a change of heart,” said Stewart. “I believe you’re ready to give me your statement now Mike?”

  “I am but Isla’s not ready.”

  The two men looked to her. She’d pulled the sheets up to her chin, eyes bright with fear.

  “Then we can leave it a bit longer,” said Stewart. “But Isla, I will need to talk to you soon.”

  She just nodded.

  “Okay Mike,” said Stewart. “You okay to do this here?”

  Mike looked to Isla. “Is that okay with you honey or shall we talk in another room?”

  “Here please,” she said, grabbing onto his hand it seemed in an attempt to prevent him from leaving.

  “Okay,” said Stewart settling himself into a chair while Mike slowly sank back onto the bed, the head of which had been tilted up so he could sit up comf
ortably.

  Mike began from when he’d first had his suspicions about the Colonel, leading to the subsequent fight, constantly glancing at Isla as he spoke, making sure she was handling it. It was hard to tell as she just lay there watching him with wide green eyes.

  “Well,” said Stewart when he’d finished. “First things first, do you want a job? We’re always on the lookout for talented new officers.”

  “I’m good thanks.”

  “Probably for the best. You seem incapable of obeying the law.” Stewart looked to Isla, hoping hearing Mike’s statement would encourage her to give her own but she remained silent and unmoving. He opened his mouth to try and persuade her but the door banged open noisily and Ross came in laden down with bags.

  “What have you brought all that for?” said Mike. “They’re letting us go today, hopefully.”

  “I didn’t know what you’d want, so I thought it safer to bring everything.”

  “Well, now you’re here I’m gonna take a leak.” He glanced at Stewart, indicating that he wanted to speak to him in private.

  Stewart picked up on this and got to his feet. “Well, I’ve got a few hours off, so I get to go home and grab some sleep.”

  “Good,” replied Mike. “You look like hell.”

  “So I believe.”

  “Won’t be long,” Mike told Isla, pecking her on the lips before following Stewart out of the room.

  “How are the ribs?” Stewart asked him.

  “Sore but I’ll live. You should know, I woke up this morning and caught Sloss taking pictures of Isla when she was asleep. I dragged him off the ward and snapped his phone in half.”

  “Good.”

  “He said he’s gonna report me.”

  “Let him. It won’t get the cockroach anywhere.”

  “Has the Colonel admitted to killing Robert?”

  “Wheeler told me about your theory but so far he’s refused to talk. He’s being discharged today with a cast on his foot, so he’ll be transferred to a cell at the police station until he’s up in the magistrate’s court for his remand hearing.”

  “It’s got to be him. I mean, what are the odds of two killers in such a small village?”

  “You’d be surprised, especially in these isolated areas.”

  “That means if it wasn’t the Colonel then it was someone else.”

 

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