Chameleon

by Ken McClure

  'I want him picked up!' said Jamieson. 'Now!'

  'If police cars should suddenly appear in his mirrors and start chasing him your wife might be in a lot more danger than she is now,' maintained Ryan.

  Jamieson had to concede the point but he was in no mood for common sense. He wanted action. He was like a cat on hot coals.

  'I'll tell you what,' said Ryan. 'Call the county lab and if Evans is still there ask to speak to your wife. You can get her to make some excuse for not accepting a lift back. Say you have to go out there yourself and you will bring her back.'

  'Good idea,' said Jamieson. He snatched at the phone and asked the operator for the county lab. He looked at Ryan and drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk while he waited.

  'County Laboratories.'

  'This is Dr Jamieson at Kerr Memorial Hospital. Are Dr Evans and my wife still with you?'

  'Pardon?' said the voice.

  'Dr Evans was bringing some bacterial cultures over to you for analysis. He made the arrangement this morning by telephone. I wondered if he might still be there.'

  'One moment please.'

  'What's the problem?' whispered Ryan.

  'I don't know,' shrugged Jamieson. But inside he felt ill. He heard the receiver at the other end being picked up.

  'We have no record of Dr Evans having contacted us,' said the voice.

  Jamieson felt his head swim. 'Are you quite sure?' he croaked.

  'Quite.'

  'So he's not been there?'

  'No.'

  Jamieson put down the phone and couldn't speak for a moment.

  'What is it?' demanded Ryan. 'What's happened?'

  'Evans isn't there. He never was. He didn't call them. He never intended going there. He must have known I was getting close and now he's got Sue!'

  'OK,' said Ryan. 'I'll put out an APB for them. Don't worry. We'll find them.' Ryan swung into action leaving Jamieson to slump down in a chair as he faced another personal nightmare. Where would Evans have taken her? What was he doing to her? He did not have an answer for the first question but his mind filled with agony when he thought about the second.

  He tried to think logically and assess what he had learned about Evans so far in the hope that it might provide him with some clue but he only succeeded in becoming more and more anxious. He failed to come up with any idea at all. He was almost at his wits' end when he did realise that there was one thing he knew. The search for the radiation source in the microbiology lab had proved fruitless so that must mean that Evans had carried out his lab work on the bacteria somewhere else! He must have alternative premises somewhere in the city! He had to find out where!

  He ran back to the lab to ask among the technicians if they knew of any such place. He drew a blank. AS far as they knew, Evans lived in the residency. No one knew of him having any other address.

  'I didn't come across a UV lamp anywhere else in the lab,' said the technician who had helped him search earlier.

  Jamieson nodded.

  'Shall I put this back where you found it?' The technician held up the small brown bottle that Jamieson had found in Evans' drawer.

  Again Jamieson nodded while he tried desperately to think of an idea. His thinking was confused by the technician having drawn his attention to the bottle. He saw it again lying on its side in the drawer on top of… an electricity bill! Why would Evans have an electricity bill when he lived in the hospital residency? Charges for electricity were included in the rental!

  Jamieson leapt to his feet and chased along the corridor. He burst into Evans' room and brushed past the startled technician to yank open Evans' desk drawer and pull out the bill. It was addressed to Evans at an address in the city.

  As they drove through city streets, Sue fell silent as she recalled her terrifying drive in the taxi. She looked at the busy entrance to Marks and Spencer's and felt a shiver climb her spine.

  'Cold?' asked Evans, leaning across to adjust the heater levers on the dash.

  'Not really,' replied Sue. 'Someone must have walked over my grave.'

  'Strange expression that,' said Evans.

  'Mmm.'

  'Any idea where it comes from?'

  'Afraid not.'

  'Let's talk of graves, of worms and epitaphs.'

  'What?'

  'Shakespeare. Richard the Second.'

  'Oh,' said Sue.

  'I hope you don't mind if we take a short detour. I want to pick something up at my flat.'

  'Not at all. I didn't realise you had a flat?'

  'It's more of a studio really.'

  'You're an artist?' asked Sue.

  'I like to pretend I am.'

  'How interesting,' said Sue.

  The car slowed and turned off the main road to glide slowly through backstreets and come to a halt.

  'I have the basement flat here,' said Evans.

  The basement?' exclaimed Sue. 'I thought artists needed lots of light.'

  Evans looked at Sue in silence for a moment and then said, 'We have to use what we can afford.'

  'Of course,' smiled Sue.

  'Perhaps you would like to see some of my humble efforts?'

  'I'd love to Clive,' said Sue. 'I have the greatest admiration for anyone who can draw or paint.'

  'They're not very good I'm afraid.'

  'I'm sure you are just being modest.'

  Evans led the way down the stone steps and Sue waited while he fiddled with the locks on the door and finally got it to open. The air inside seemed cold and damp and for a fleeting moment Sue felt apprehensive without knowing why. She stepped inside.

  What little light there was inside was suddenly dimmed by Evans closing the door behind them. 'I'll have to switch on the electricity at the mains,' he said.

  'I'll open the curtains shall I?' said Sue making a move towards the heavy drapes.

  'No. Don't do that,' said Evans behind her. His voice had changed. It was quiet now, authoritative and somehow different.

  Sue turned round as the lights were turned on and saw Evans leaning against the door looking at her. 'I don't understand,' she said. 'Where are the paintings?'

  'There are no paintings,' said Evans in a flat, even voice.

  Sue looked at Evans and saw that his eyes had changed too. They seemed to be made of grey, expressionless glass and she could hear him breathing. He was making a hissing sound as air was sucked in and expelled again through clenched teeth.

  'Is this some kind of tasteless joke?' she asked, but terror was already beginning to gnaw at her stomach.

  'No joke,' whispered Evans. 'It's all deadly serious.'

  Sue made a move towards the door but Evans shifted slightly to bar her way.

  'Let me out of here!' demanded Sue at arm's length. Fear had put a tremor into her voice.

  'You are not going anywhere,' continued the even voice. 'First I'll deal with you and then I'll deal with your interfering clod of a husband. He's getting to be too much of a nuisance.'

  'Interfering? Interfering in what?'

  'My work! Sue, that's what.' said Evans his voice rising in volume for the first time.

  Sue saw all the signs of a lunatic in Evans and felt sick with fear. 'What do you mean 'Your work'?' she stammered.

  'I mean ridding this city of female filth, cleaning up the pestilence that they spread. You all look fine on the outside but it's just a front. Inside you are filthy! Dirty and filthy!

  Sue screamed as Evans came towards her. She moved backwards, feeling out behind her for obstacles with an outstretched hand but not daring to take her eyes away from the madman who was coming towards her. She half stumbled as her leg caught the edge of a table and hastily altered course to avoid it.

  'Whore!' hissed Evans. 'There is no escape!'

  Sue moved in unison with Evans, trying to keep the table between herself and him but could see it was only a short-term ploy.

  Evans could see that too and with a sweep of his foot he cleared away the obstruction. He lunged toward
s Sue and in her haste to escape him she stumbled backwards and crashed to the floor. She tried to scramble to her feet using the handle of the fridge to help her to her feet but the magnetic catch on the door released and she fell once more to the floor as the fridge door swung open. The illuminated interior seemed strangely compelling in the gloom of the basement room. Sue saw what lay inside and her imagination refused to contemplate any more horror. She passed out.

  She came to as if waking from a bad dream but only to find that she was part of a living nightmare. She was lying on wood-framed camp bed with her hands and feet securely bound. Something had been stuffed into her mouth and a handkerchief used to keep it in place. As she moved her head she felt the wad of material in her mouth move a little further towards the back of her throat threatening to induce the gag response. Suddenly fearful that she would choke she moved her head again in an effort to stop her airway becoming blocked. The terror in her head was working against her by increasing the demand for oxygen to supply the blood that was rushing through her veins. She could hear the rapid thump of a pulse in her ears. Her movement on the camp bed brought Evans to her side.

  From where Sue lay, Evans appeared to be seven feet tall. He was wearing a long rubber apron and in his hand he held a surgical knife.

  'Awake? Good. It's important that you are conscious at the moment of your cleansing, the instant when the evil is excised from your corrupt body.

  Sue eyes became saucers as Evans bent down and started to cut away her clothing. She saw his eyes linger on her breasts. He seemed to be engaged in some deep inner struggle. Sweat began to appear along his upper lip and his pocked skin became deathly pale. He was muttering something in what Sue recognised as Latin. His hands moved to hover near her breasts but then were withdrawn while he looked up to the ceiling as if for guidance. He started to remove the rest of her clothes.

  As she threw her head back in anguish Sue again caused the rag in her mouth to move backwards and threaten to make her retch. If that happened while she was gagged she would inhale her own vomit and die of asphyxiation. When assessed coldly and dispassionately that might have been preferable to what Evans had in store for her but there is nothing cold or dispassionate about the desire to cling on to life. Sue jerked her head forward violently in a desperate attempt to clear the obstruction.

  Suddenly fists pounded on the outside door. 'Sue? Are you in there?' demanded Jamieson's voice from the other side of the door.

  Evans straightened up and stood there silently, his eyes filled with uncertainty, the knife still raised in his hand. Sue still desperately fought for air against the constant desire to retch.

  'Sue! Evans! Can you hear me?'

  Evans stood like a silent statue until the footsteps started to recede up the steps outside. The knife in his hand slowly started to descend as he relaxed. It cut an invisible line through the air. He turned to look at Sue again, his pock-marked face a mask of venom. 'So he knows!' he hissed. 'The interfering idiot knows but he's too late!'

  Sue stopped breathing altogether as she saw the knife in Evans' hand move towards her. Her silent scream was interrupted by a tremendous crash of broken glass as the window was kicked in. The sound continued as several more kicks were applied to remove all the glass from the frame. Evans left Sue and ran across the room in time to meet Jamieson coming through the opening. He swung the knife and caught Jamieson on the left shoulder, opening up a cut which blood welled up from and soaked through his jacket but no muscular damage had been done.

  The two men circled each other, Evans making regular gestures with the knife to keep Jamieson at bay.

  'You mad bastard!' whispered Jamieson. 'You crazy mad bastard!'

  'You don't understand,' insisted Evans. 'She's evil. They're all evil. You've just been blinded to it by her looks. She'll destroy you in the end.'

  Jamieson shook his head in disbelief at the deranged man he saw before him. 'All these deaths because of one nut case,' he murmured. 'Ye gods.'

  Jamieson risked a quick glance at Sue and was so alarmed at the colour of her complexion, which was becoming blue through asphyxiation, that his concentration was broken. The excitement and panic brought on by watching the fight between Evans and her husband had made the rag in her mouth move backwards into her throat.

  Evans took full advantage of Jamieson's lapse. He picked up the Ultra-Violet lamp that had been sitting on his work bench and threw it at Jamieson. It caught Jamieson high on the temple and sent him crashing to the floor in a haze of pain.

  Jamieson was aware of Evans coming towards him. He groped desperately for anything near him on the floor that could be used as a weapon to defend himself against the madman. His hand closed round a long shard of glass that had fallen from the window frame.

  At the very moment that Evans threw himself at him, Jamieson brought the jagged shard round in front of him and held it firmly upright using both fists. The full weight of Evans? body came down on it and a look of stunned surprise appeared on Evans' face. His body went completely rigid for a moment and then slowly relaxed into death.

  Jamieson was pinned to the floor by the weight of Evans' body. He was utterly desperate to get to Sue but it took an eternity to free himself from the sprawling corpse lying on top of him. With a final desperate shove he managed it and got to his feet to stagger to Sue's assistance. She was unconscious and badly cyanosed when he cut away the handkerchief and pulled the gag out of her mouth. He felt for a pulse and failed to find one. In desperation he started to blow air gently down into her lungs. There was no response.

  Jamieson was still continuing with mouth to mouth resuscitation when the police arrived and Ryan entered the flat. Ryan took in the situation at a glance and radioed for an ambulance before doing anything else. He approached the table and stood quietly at Jamieson's side. 'The ambulance is on its way. How is she?' he asked quietly. Jamieson shook his head as if to dismiss the question and continued as if he were in another world. In the background a policeman threw up as he opened the fridge.

  Sue coughed and Jamieson paused, thinking it the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He exchanged glances with Ryan and his cheek muscles started to quiver as he watched Sue begin to breathe again on her own. After a few more minutes she opened her eyes. She appeared to look at Jamieson but then closed them again. Ryan knew as well as Jamieson that there was a question of brain damage, depending on how long Sue had been without oxygen.

  'It's over my darling,' Jamieson whispered. 'You're safe now. No one is ever going to hurt you again.'

  There was an agonising pause before Sue said, 'I seem to have heard that somewhere before.'

  Jamieson let out his breath in a long sigh and Ryan smiled at him. Sue was going to be all right.

  'It is my darling,' said Jamieson. 'We're going home.

  Two days later, Jamieson and Sue left Kerr Memorial for the last time. Maybe it was the fact that the sun was shining, but it seemed to both of them that the hospital had become a friendlier place. Phillip Morton was the last to come down and say good-bye to them and with him he brought the news that the four remaining Proteus patients were responding well to one of the antibiotics sent up by the Sci-Med labs. They were expected to make a full recovery.

  As they drove out through the gates, neither Sue nor Jamieson felt inclined to look back. Sue clicked on the car radio in time to hear a government spokesman assure his interviewer that screening procedures for hospital staff were entirely adequate and there was no cause for public alarm. Jamieson reached out and switched it off again.

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