Retriever of Souls

by Lorraine Mace

  Paolo grabbed one of the paramedics who was closing the ambulance doors.

  “Where are they taking her?”

  “Theatre. She needs urgent surgery on her face. I’m sorry; you must be going through hell.”

  Hell? It’s where I deserve to be for letting this happen.

  Inside the hospital he found the information desk and explained who he was. A kindly receptionist directed him to the third floor and told him to go to the waiting room. In a daze, Paolo followed her instructions and found Lydia being comforted by Jack. Paolo knew he should care, but he didn’t. Jealousy, regret, anger, anything would be better than this emptiness.

  He’d barely stepped into the room when Lydia launched herself at him and slapped his face.

  “You bastard! Katy said she’d be with you. Why the hell wasn’t she?”

  Paolo didn’t have the strength to defend himself.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry? You’re sorry? If Katy dies...” She broke off and brushed away her tears. “If Katy dies, you and your precious job will have killed both my babies.”

  Jack stood and put his arm around Lydia. “Come and sit down. You don’t mean that, Lydia.”

  She shrugged him off. “Don’t I?” she spat. “Ask him why Sarah died. Ask him who the driver was aiming for. Go on, ask him.” She turned back to Paolo. “Your job killed Sarah and we both know it. Now it’s going to kill Katy.”

  Paolo said nothing. There was nothing he could say because he knew Lydia was right. As Jack led her back to the seats on the far side of the room, the sound of her sobbing brought back all too clearly the day he’d had to tell her about Sarah’s death. The driver had been aiming for him, but Sarah had seen the car and pushed him clear just in time. As he’d fallen, Paolo had heard the sound of metal hitting flesh. By the time he got to his feet the car had reversed. He shuddered, remembering the way Sarah’s body had been dragged along under the car as the driver accelerated away.

  Two hours of silence later Paolo looked up as the door opened, praying it was the doctor to say Katy was out of danger, but Dave hovered and waved to Paolo to follow him out.

  “I just came by to see how Katy’s doing. What have the doctors said?”

  “Nothing yet,” Paolo said. “She’s still in the operating theatre. I keep telling myself she’ll be okay, but I’m not sure I believe it.”

  “How’s her mum holding up?”

  Paolo shrugged. “About as well as me. Until Katy’s out of surgery we won’t know what sort of damage that bastard inflicted. Tell me you’ve got him securely locked up? You haven’t come to tell me you’ve let him go?”

  Dave shook his head. “No chance of that. He’s locked up tight. Would you like me to stay here with you? You look rough.”

  Paolo managed a smile. “No, you go on home. I’m fine.”

  He watched Dave leave and then braced himself to go back into the waiting room, but this time Lydia didn’t even look up. She was asleep with her head resting on Jack’s shoulder. Jack gave him a questioning look, but Paolo shook his head – still no news on Katy.

  He slipped back onto the chair he’d vacated earlier. He had a direct view of the door, and the frosted glass windows filling the upper half of the wall enabled him to see if anyone came down the corridor from the direction of the theatre.

  An hour and a half later his vigil was rewarded. The door opened and a tired looking man in a white coat came in. As Paolo leapt to his feet, Jack woke Lydia. She opened her eyes and gave a sleepy smile.

  “Mmm, where am... what are we... Oh, God, Katy!”

  She jumped up, reaching the doctor seconds after Paolo.

  He wanted to ask so many questions, but his throat seemed to be full of cotton wool and the words wouldn’t come out. Lydia appeared to have the same affliction, because her lips moved, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Mr and Mrs Sterling?” They nodded. “I’m Doctor Blanchard, Katy’s surgeon. The injuries to her face were extensive. We’ve performed reconstructive surgery on her cheekbones, nose and jaw. She also has several broken ribs and has suffered severe trauma to her upper body, including factures to the radius and ulna on her left arm.”

  Paolo finally managed to get his throat working. “She’s going to be okay? She’s going to live?”

  “Yes. She’s a healthy young woman and should make a full recovery.”

  “Can I see her?” Lydia asked.

  He nodded. “You won’t be able to go into the room, but you can look in from the outside. She’s in ICU.”

  “Intensive care? Why? You said she’ll make a full recovery,” Lydia said.

  The doctor gave a sympathetic smile. “She should, but as I said, her injuries were severe. We’re keeping her in ICU until her condition stabilises. After you’ve seen her tonight I suggest you go home and get some rest. You should be able to talk to her tomorrow.” He looked at his watch. “Or rather, later today.”

  Jack came and stood next to Lydia, putting his arm round her. “Let’s go to ICU. What’s the earliest time we can come back?”

  “I suggest phoning after eight. The nurse on duty will let you know how Katy is and tell you when to come in.”

  Lydia and Jack shook the doctor’s hand. She left without saying goodbye or glancing in Paolo’s direction, but Jack turned and nodded farewell.

  Paolo held his hand out, but the doctor closed the door and pointed to the chairs.

  “Do you mind if we sit for a while? I’m exhausted.”

  Paolo dropped into a chair. “No, not at all. You’ve got something to say to me? Something you didn’t want Katy’s mother to hear? Is she worse than you said?”

  “No, don’t worry; it’s nothing to do with Katy’s condition. I simply wanted to ask you about the police report. I would normally forward it to you, but as you’re also the father of the victim, should it be sent to someone else?”

  Paolo thought about having to read in precise detail what Roberts had inflicted on Katy and his stomach heaved. Words from the autopsy reports on the other victims danced in his mind. A few minutes later and Katy’s injuries would have been in an autopsy report, not a surgeon’s. As much as he didn’t want to read it, he knew he had to. Not doing so wasn’t fair to Katy.

  “Send it to me. Thank you for not asking in front of Lydia.”

  “No problem,” the doctor said. He stood and held out his hand. “I’m off to get some sleep. I strongly advise you to do the same. You look as if just standing upright is more than your body can take.”

  “It is,” Paolo agreed, shaking the doctor’s hand. “I have one last question. I know it’ll be in your report, but I need to know before I read it. Was she... was Katy... did that bastard...”

  “Sexual assault?” Doctor Blanchard finished for him. “No, there was no sign of vaginal trauma.”

  Relief flooded Paolo’s body and his legs gave way. He collapsed onto a chair.

  ***

  Paolo barely slept. All through the night, images of Katy connected to tubes and support machines had appeared each time he closed his eyes. He looked at the clock for perhaps the hundredth time, only to find that it was just after six. Realising that he wouldn’t sleep regardless of how hard he tried, he got up and showered. That took the time to six-thirty, still an hour and a half too early to call the hospital. Having too much time on his hands and nothing to stop his mind from dwelling on how close Katy came to death, Paolo did what he always did when life became too hard to bear – he went to work.

  He had just dialled the hospital’s number when Dave came in. Signalling for him to sit, Paolo waited to be put through to the right person and then explained who he was and asked about Katy.

  “She’s comfortable,” the sister said. “Her condition improved during the night.”

  “Her condition’s improved?” he repeated, hardly daring to believe he’d heard correctly. “Can I see her? I mean, actually go in the room?”

  “Yes
, but not this morning. The doctor’s advice is to leave visiting until later today. I’d suggest coming in this afternoon. Say about two?”

  Paolo agreed and shut off the call. He felt as if all his bones had turned to liquid. Funny, he’d thought relief would give him strength, instead it seemed to have sapped the little he’d had left.

  “Are you okay, sir? You don’t look too good. Not bad news about Katy, I hope.”

  Paolo forced himself to sit upright. “No, good news, actually. I’m fine, Dave. Just tired. You wanted to see me about something?”

  Dave looked so uncomfortable, Paolo’s heart dropped. What now?

  “It’s Roberts, sir. He, er, he wants to see you.”

  “Does he? Well he can go to hell. I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off him.”

  Dave fidgeted with a paperclip he’d picked up from Paolo’s desk. “You’re not going to like me saying this, but I think you should see him.”

  Anger closed Paolo’s throat, but he forced the words out. “You do, do you? And why’s that? So that he can tell me he thinks my daughter’s a whore? Fuck that.”

  Dave didn’t answer.

  “Okay, spit it out. Why do you think I should see him?”

  “Because he’s waived his right to legal representation and says he’ll explain about Sean Andrews, but only to you. He won’t speak to anyone but you.”

  “Why?”

  “He won’t say. Just keeps repeating that you are the only one he’ll talk to.”

  “Dave, I’m not sure I can trust myself. You saw what the bastard did to Katy. I bet this is some trick to get me to attack him so that he can claim we beat a confession out of him.”

  “I know, sir, I thought so too, but I’ll be there with you and we can have a couple of uniform in the room as well. I promise I won’t let you touch him, no matter what he does.”

  Paolo nodded and got to his feet. “Come on, then, before I change my mind.”

  Matthew smiled at Paolo when he entered the interrogation room. Paolo had to put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from lashing out.

  He sat down, glad the table was between him and Matthew. He flicked the switch on the recorder.

  “DI Sterling interviewing Matthew Roberts, who has waived his right to legal representation. Also present are DS Johnson and constables Beech and Smith.”

  He finished by giving the date and time, then looked up at Matthew. “Where is Sean Andrews?”

  “Don’t you want to know about my work,” Matthew asked. “God’s love covers me. I’m doing his will.”

  Paolo couldn’t tell if Matthew was deliberately goading him, but was determined to keep his temper.

  “Tell God you’ve officially retired. Where’s Sean? Are you two in this together?”

  “Are you mad?” Matthew spat. “God would never have entrusted his sacred work to someone like Sean. I dealt with him as God wanted.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Matthew laughed. “It means Sean is dead. There’s no need to swear, Paolo. Sean was not worthy of God’s love. He tried to blackmail me.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s in a very peaceful place.”

  “Skip the riddles, Matthew. Where is he?”

  “When you find him, you’ll be at peace,” Matthew said and laughed again, more of a giggle this time. Paolo wondered how much of an act Matthew was putting on.

  “Did you kill your natural mother?”

  “I killed a whore. Sean contacted me and told me our so-called mother was a whore. The bitch wanted me to touch her. Can you imagine that? I went to see her and she wanted to fuck. I killed a whore who was so wasted on drugs she didn’t even know I was her son. She touched me, Paolo. She made me want to defile my body. Jesus told me to kill her.”

  “Christ, Matthew, all you had to do was walk away.”

  Matthew laughed again. “You’re so holier than thou, always have been. Even more self-righteous than Greg and that’s saying something. He knew about my work. Did you know that? He kept on at me to stop, but how could I when God Himself told me who to save?”

  “Greg knew?”

  “Of course, I told him in confession. Not because I wanted forgiveness, I hadn’t done anything I needed to confess, but I wanted him to know how close I was to the Lord. You know Greg started hanging out with the prostitutes? Trying to keep them from me. The idiot thought he could stop God’s work. But I had him removed.”

  “What do you mean, removed? He’s in rehab.”

  Matthew laughed again. “Who do you think told his superiors that he was a troubled soul who needed help with his demons? He was back on drugs, Paolo. I did him a favour getting him sent to rehab, but I can’t take the credit for the idea. Jesus told me how to get rid of Greg. When you’ve got the son of God on your side, everything is easy.

  “Did you know where I found your daughter, Paolo? On the streets. I wonder how long she’d been a whore. You never guessed, did you? Of course, she said she was only there looking for Greg, but the Lord told me she was a liar.”

  Paolo didn’t trust himself to answer.

  “I tried to save her soul for you, Paolo. For old time’s sake. I couldn’t let your daughter fuck for money, now could I?”

  Paolo stood so quickly his chair flew backwards. He had never wanted to kill before, but now he wanted to wipe Matthew from the face of the earth. Dave jumped up and moved in front of him, blocking his view of the scum on the other side of the table. Paolo sidestepped, determined to get to Matthew, but then he saw the bastard smirk. His head pounded, but he couldn’t give in to his rage. Don’t give him what he wants, the tiny sane part of his brain that was still functioning told him.

  Pull yourself together.

  Taking a deep breath, he forced his anger under control.

  “Sorry, Matthew, that won’t work. You’re not getting me to lay a finger on you.”

  Matthew’s smile faded, leaving disappointment in its place. The change in Matthew’s expression told Paolo he’d guessed correctly.

  “This interview is terminated,” he said and flipped the switch to stop recording.

  CHAPTER 29

  A week later, Paolo sat at his desk staring into space, thinking how strange life could be. Everything seemed to turn on luck in the end. If Leanna hadn’t decided to add her name to the genetic trial; if she had never dated Matthew Roberts; if she hadn’t been a close friend of Barbara’s; if Sean Andrews hadn’t tried to blackmail Matthew Roberts – so many ifs. How would things have turned out if even one of those things hadn’t happened? But the most important if of all: if only he’d told Katy about Greg’s call she would never have gone looking for him. Never have fallen into Matthew’s clutches.

  Physically she was out of danger, but mentally? She hadn’t communicated with anyone since coming round from the operation. Not that she was able to speak with her jaw wired, but she wouldn’t even make eye contact. He and Lydia took turns sitting with her, but Katy wouldn’t look at either of them. She stared up at the ceiling in her own private world, keeping everyone else out. Even when the nurses came in to check her vital signs, or wash her, she stared at the ceiling. Forcing back the tears that always seemed to be on the verge of falling these days, he picked up the phone and dialled the number Doctor Blanchard had given him.

  “Jessica Carter’s practice.”

  “Could I speak to Ms Carter, please? DI Sterling speaking. She’s expecting my call.”

  He waited a few seconds and then heard the psychologist’s voice. “Detective Inspector Sterling? Doctor Blanchard said you’d be calling. He’s filled me in on Katy’s recent trauma. I understand you’d like me to assess your daughter.”

  “I don’t want you to assess her; I want you to help her, if you can.”

  “Yes, of course, but first I need to get some personal background information. Would it be possible for you and Mrs Sterling to come to my rooms this afternoon? Say four o’clock?”

  Pa
olo scribbled down the time. “I can make it, but I don’t know about my wife. We’re separated. Can I find out from her and call you back?”

  “Of course. Let my secretary know if either of you are unable to make it. She’ll reschedule. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you can both make the appointment.”

  Paolo thanked her and cut the call. Dreading it, but knowing he couldn’t put it off, he dialled Lydia’s number.

  “What do you want?” she said as soon as she answered.

  “The psychologist Doctor Blanchard recommended wants to meet us this afternoon.”

  “Fine. What time?”

  “Four o’clock. Lydia, I...”

  “I don’t want to talk. Just give me the address.”

  He’d barely finished telling her when the line went dead. She hadn’t spoken to him since the night Katy had been admitted. He didn’t blame her for hating him, but it hurt hearing the loathing in her voice.

  Five minutes later a knock on his door brought a welcome end to the thoughts running in circles; he’d been feeling as though his head might explode.

  Barbara stood watching him. The compassion on her face almost broke his self-control, but he forced himself to stay focussed on the investigation.

  “Come in, Barbara. I hope you’ve come with some solid information.”

  She sat down opposite him. “How’s Katy? Any change?”

  He shook his head and fortunately Barbara seemed to understand how he felt, because she changed the subject, answering the question he’d posed.

  “I’ve got so much information for you,” she said. “I hardly know where to start. Firstly, you’ll be pleased to know that the hair we took from Matthew Roberts matches the semen DNA found on all the victims.”

  Paolo sighed. “Barbara, I know you’ve explained it once already, but can you give me the layman’s version so that I can get my head round it? How the hell can Matthew have two sets of DNA? I’m sorry; it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

  Barbara smiled. “I can understand that, Paolo. It’s quite rare, or at least we used to think it was, but now we’re not so sure. Okay, here’s what happens. It comes from something called ‘Vanishing Twin Syndrome’ and means basically that a mother has two fertilised eggs, which would normally result in non-identical twins. The non-identical part’s important because identical twins share the same DNA. You with me so far?”