‘How do you expect me to cooperate?’ I shouted, fury and frustration burning wildly inside. ‘I can’t own up to things I didn’t do! You should stop wasting crucial time on me and investigate the people I’ve told you about. Investigate de la Force and Sligo! Investigate Rathbone! Get out there and do your job, why don’t you? Find my sister!’
I made a desperate lunge, but McGrath moved swiftly, grabbing me before I made it anywhere near the door, and with a painful twist to my wrists, he threw me with such force onto the hospital bed that I crashed heavily to the floor on the other side. My drip ripped out and snaked around for a second like a wild hose.
McGrath wrenched me back up onto the bed and pounced on me, pulling more restraints out.
‘Callum Thomas Ormond, I’m arresting you on two counts of attempted murder. You don’t have to say anything, but anything you do say could be taken down and used in evidence against you. Do you understand?’
149 days to go …
I stared at the cop through the small square window in the door of my secure hospital room. He sat there bored, diagonally opposite my door on a chair in the corridor outside. Sometimes he’d stand up and walk around or chat to the nurses as they came by. Occasionally he’d peer through the window.
A nurse would come in intermittently to check my blood pressure and the monitors I was again hooked up to. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d be transferred out of the hospital and into prison.
At the very time when I needed to be out searching desperately for Gabbi, I was stuck in this place where the hours dragged on painfully slowly. Every second that ticked by meant more danger for my sister. I didn’t want to think about it.
I could feel the pressure of the hopeless situation I was in building inside me, and started to do something methodical to distract myself–counting the ceiling panels above me. There were twelve of them–white rectangles held in place by ceiling batons. One of them in the corner over the wash basin was a little crooked and not properly aligned like the others. For some reason it really got on my nerves. My line of sight kept going back to it.
I couldn’t believe that with everything going on, I was irritated by a crooked ceiling panel.
148 days to go …
Overpowering fear and worry about Gabbi had me pacing the room, desperately looking around for an escape. Together with the loss of the Ormond Riddle and the Ormond Jewel, and the long hours of boredom, it took everything I had not to start kicking the door and screaming my head off.
But the days I’d spent in this room had helped me get clear about one thing: I had to get away from this hospital. Once they put me into the prison system, locked up in a remand centre awaiting trial, I knew there’d be no bail for me. It would be much harder for me to escape then, than now. This secure ward in the hospital was my best bet.
I had to find Gabbi. Someone had to save her. Retrieving my backpack–containing the Jewel and the Riddle–could wait. Right now my sister was all that mattered.
A tall nurse entered my room and placed a meal tray down on the small table beside my bed. This time the grey stew had a pile of green peas beside it.
I held my restrained wrists up to her.
‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘Just like last night and this morning, they’re staying on.’
She left and I awkwardly forced a couple of mouthfuls of the slop down, then fell back on my bed.
I lay there staring at the crooked ceiling panel. This empty time was forcing me to put things together in my head. Sheldrake Rathbone must have been more than just an intermediary between me and Oriana. Maybe he’d always been her greedy partner in crime. Being the family solicitor meant that he had access to all the family documents relating to the Ormond Singularity, and he could have handed everything over to her. But then again, he might have been bribed or threatened by Oriana into helping her trap me.
Had there ever been anything in that envelope, or was the entire thing a set-up? Was there anything to find out about the twins … or was that all a pile of rubbish? I was feeling really stupid. I saw now how the idea of a second meeting–with Oriana–had worked psychologically on me, made me less vigilant about the first meeting, with Rathbone. I’d fallen into their trap like a fool. I’d been blinded by my own hope of getting hold of the Piers Ormond will, and finally uncovering the truth about my past.
Boges and Winter too, both normally suspicious when it came to trusting anyone, had also been caught up in the excitement of finally getting more info. The three of us together had felt like an unstoppable trio.
I groaned aloud. Oriana had the Riddle back and now, thanks to me, she had the Jewel too. Both halves of the double-key code. Plus she had everything else she needed to solve the Ormond Singularity. She had money, influence, power … freedom. All the things I didn’t have. I could’ve pulled my hair out in aggravation.
I jumped up and walked around the room. The IV tugged on my forearm as my brain surged with fears about Gabbi and frustration over my careless decisions.
Faint, but familiar, voices outside my door propelled me to my feet.
I squashed my ear up against the thick door, straining to listen.
‘Now, Win, please try and stay calm,’ said a voice belonging to someone I knew too well–it was Uncle Rafe, talking to my mum! ‘Going in there and shouting at him about Gab,’ he continued, ‘isn’t going to help us get to her any faster. We need him to cooperate. OK, love?’
Love? Since when did Rafe use words like ‘love’?
‘Whatever you think is best,’ said my mum.
‘And if at any moment it gets too hard for you, we can leave. You just say the word.’
‘That’s right,’ Sergeant McGrath’s gruff voice added. ‘His hands are restrained, and we’re here if he’s stupid enough to try and pull a swift one.’
Their footsteps approached and I jumped back to my bed, fidgeting nervously with my bound hands.
The door opened and Mum and Rafe walked in together, accompanied by the sergeant and the corridor police guard.
Mum wouldn’t look at me. She kept her head down, eyes on the ground.
‘Hello Cal,’ said Rafe.
‘Rafe,’ I said, acknowledging him.
‘Callum, your family is here to speak with you,’ McGrath announced. ‘We’ll leave you alone for a short while,’ he said to Rafe, ‘but we will both be just outside the door should you need us.’
With that, he and the corridor cop left the room.
My mum suddenly made a move towards me, then faltered. Rafe had his arm around her, restraining her, guiding her to the chair near the bed instead. I couldn’t tell whether she’d wanted to rush to me to hug me … or to hit me.
‘Sit down, Win,’ he said, flashing me a look of grave concern.
Mum sat down awkwardly. She had lost a lot of weight and there were hollows around her eyes that weren’t there before. She looked really frail. Rafe, too, looked run-down and weary. His hair was now heaps more silvery than dark.
‘Cal,’ said Mum, hesitantly, glancing up at Rafe as she spoke, ‘I don’t know what to say to you.’
‘You could start,’ I said, ‘by telling me what happened to Gabbi, and how in the world she was kidnapped from under both of your noses.’
I could see Rafe’s jaw clench and his lips tense and contort with anger. He cleared his throat.
‘Cal, we were hoping that you would be able to tell us that.’ He took a deep breath and looked at my mum and then back to me. ‘Even though your mother doesn’t approve of it, I’m taking out a mortgage on the house, to raise money for your defence. Now that you’re finally back with us–now that you’ve been incarcerated–we want you to have the very best lawyers money can buy. But first,’ he said before pausing, ‘you have to tell us what you’ve done with Gabbi.’
Mum’s hand reached out for Rafe’s. She squeezed it tight–the knuckles on her thin fingers whitening. Then she leaned into him and began to cry.
I stared silently at
them. I couldn’t speak.
‘We’ve had discussions about this, and your mother and I both believe that there is some kind of insanity at work. If we can build up a case of diminished responsibility–that you’re not in your right mind when you do these things–you might not have to go to prison.’
‘Please, Cal,’ my mother moaned, ‘just tell us what you’ve done with her. I’m begging you. She has done nothing to you except love you. Please stop punishing her and let her come home. She’s just a kid …’
I was gutted. They genuinely thought I was mad. I glared at both of them in disbelief.
‘You think I’m crazy,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘But I’m not! You must know that I would never do anything to hurt Gabbi. I didn’t hurt her the first time and I sure haven’t done anything to her since. I don’t know what to say to make you believe me, Mum. Dad warned me danger could be coming, and he was right. But all I’ve been trying to do is stay alive and clear my name so we can all be together again. I haven’t seen Gabbi since that day in the ICU. And that was when I was trying to stop you from turning her life support off! Why would I hurt her? Why would I kidnap her?’
‘Stop lying to me,’ said Mum, turning tear-filled eyes on me. ‘The police confirmed that your DNA was found at the scene–on the window frame, on Gabbi’s bed, on the furniture in the room. Everywhere, Cal!’
I remembered how I’d run through all the rooms at my uncle’s place, back in January, desperately searching for the drawings Dad had addressed to me. I’d touched so many drawers and cupboards, leaving DNA everywhere.
‘That’s because I went to Rafe’s place, back in January–’
‘You what?’ asked Rafe. ‘What were you doing at my place on your own? How did you get in?’ Rafe stared hard at me. ‘Well?’
I’d already said too much. I should have kept my stupid mouth shut.
‘Oh, no,’ cried Mum, ‘don’t tell me you’ve broken into Rafe’s place before!’
‘It wasn’t like that, I swear!’ I pleaded. ‘You have to believe me, Mum! I’m innocent! The public can think what they want, but I need you to believe me!’
‘Oh, Cal, I always hoped and prayed you’d turn out OK. In spite–’
‘In spite of what? What happened to me, Mum, to make you think I could turn into a monster? Tell me! Tell me now! I have a right to know!’
‘What’s going on in here?’ barked McGrath, alerted by our raised voices. ‘Settle down, Ormond. You OK?’ he asked Rafe and my mum.
‘We’re fine, Sergeant,’ replied Rafe, through gritted teeth. ‘Perfectly fine.’
McGrath nodded and backed out of the room slowly and suspiciously.
Mum’s eyes were turned away from me again. I knew she was distressed, but I couldn’t forgive her for not believing me, and keeping me in the dark about my mysterious past. She was my mum. She was supposed to stick by me.
I jumped off the bed. They both flinched but I didn’t care. I turned to face them.
‘I’ve heard of serial killers whose mothers still support them.’
I tried to read the expression in Mum’s eyes, but they seemed strangely foreign to me. It was a peculiar sensation–as if she wasn’t really there behind them, but was trying, unsuccessfully, to connect with me.
‘Why can’t I get through to you, Mum? Stop wasting your time chasing me, when the real crims are on the loose out there! Why won’t you believe me when I tell you that I had nothing to do with the bad things that have happened to Gab? What has happened to you?’
‘That’s quite enough,’ snapped Rafe. ‘Don’t speak to your mother like that. If you really cared for her, you would answer her question. She feels like she’s already lost you. Don’t be responsible for her losing Gabbi as well.’
I studied my mum’s face. There was definitely something different about her. Like something had broken in her mind.
‘Please Cal. Please tell us what you’ve done with Gabbi,’ said Rafe. ‘Please, we just want her back home, safely.’
‘Mum,’ I said softly, ‘I really understand what you’ve been through. I’ve been through it too! But you mustn’t let it destroy your trust in me. I’m still the same Cal.’ I paused then, because what I’d just said wasn’t really true any more.
Something stirred deep in my mind–a warning. You are overlooking a very important connection, said a tiny voice. Like when I’d first seen the key with the black tag thrown on Rafe’s bed, and couldn’t recall what it unlocked. Now, I tried to reach back into my memory for it, but in a flash it was gone. For a crazy moment, I wondered if the guy who looked just like me had something to do with Gabbi’s disappearance.
‘Please, Cal. I’m begging you,’ said my mother, gripping Rafe’s hand, her knuckles white once more. ‘Tell us where she is.’
Rafe looked at Mum before he spoke. ‘Cal, there is a freshly deposited layer of DNA in Gabbi’s room that belongs to you. That means you were the last person there, so there is no point in lying to us. It’s only going to earn you more time behind bars. Please consider your poor mother and do everything you can to cooperate with the police investigation. Before it’s too late …’
‘There’s this guy,’ I said, tentatively, ‘that I’ve seen around the city a couple of times. He looks exactly like me.’ I searched my mother’s face, desperate for an answer, desperate to find some sort of recognition in her eyes. ‘Mum,’ I pleaded, ‘could I have a twin?’
Just as I finished the last word, Rafe pounced on me. Mum jumped up from her chair, crying.
‘Stop it!’ I yelled as Rafe shook me. ‘Get off me!’
‘No, you stop it! These lies! And now some crazy nonsense about a twin! You’re sick, boy! Sick! How can you distress your mother like this? Can’t you see you’re breaking her heart? We just want to know our Gabbi’s OK!’
I felt his fingers closing around my throat, and heard my mother screaming as he shook me as hard as he could. I struggled uselessly, hindered by the wrist restraints.
Within seconds the police officer who’d left the room raced in again and hauled Rafe off me. ‘Calm down, mate,’ he said. ‘Take it easy. I understand how you feel, but you can’t be jumping on the kid like that.’ He shot me a filthy look. ‘He’ll be safely locked up in the remand centre tomorrow.’
Rafe pulled himself together, straightening his tie and smoothing his hair down. His eyes had welled up with tears–something I’d never seen happen to him before. For a moment his face reminded me of Dad.
‘I’m sorry, officer,’ he said. ‘I let my feelings run away with me. It’s the boy’s mother I’m concerned about. She’s been through so much. Too much for one person. We just hoped that Cal would … would … I don’t know. Gab’s been missing for days now. It’s been too long. Come on, Win. Let’s go. I don’t want him upsetting you any more.’
Rafe put his arm around my mum and began guiding her out of my room. I wanted to cry like a baby. I wondered if the people who were trying to destroy our family had made a start on my mum as well. As if someone had cursed her. Crushed her spirit, and left a changeling in her place.
‘Please, darling,’ said my mother with tears in her eyes, turning back as she left. ‘Please, Cal, where is my daughter?’
Her desperate wailing trailed off as she and Rafe left me behind. Alone again.
Once upon a time, this might have broken my heart. But not now–not after all I’d been through. Over seven months on the street, surviving day by day, had made me tougher. If my mother believed these terrible things about me, then I didn’t need her.
Words suddenly spilled out of me; I shouted them into the empty air: ‘I’m going to prove to you that you’re totally wrong about me! I don’t know how I’m going to do that right now, but I’m promising you that I’ll get Gabbi back and then maybe you’ll realise how badly you’ve treated me!’
I leaned over to read the clipboard hanging off the end of my bed.
No grey stew that night for dinner; instead I was given a piece
of rubbery white material that once might have been part of a fish, surrounded by a mixture of carrots and peas. It was my last night at the hospital. Tonight would be my last chance of escape. My last chance of saving my sister. I had to think of a way out.
I stared up at the crooked panel in the ceiling. And that’s when I thought of something that just might work. But first, I had to free my hands.
I felt around the mattress for the piece of scalpel blade I’d hidden, and almost cut my fingertip off when I found it. I figured if I could wedge it somewhere securely, I could cut through the nylon bands that tied my hands.
The timber of the window sill was a little weathered and cracked. Pushing carefully so as not to cut myself, and using a face cloth to protect my fingers, I forced one end of the broken blade down into a split in the wood. This left part of the blade fixed at an angle like a tiny bayonet. I pushed it to test it. It remained firm, tightly wedged into the timber. I dragged the chair over and sat down next to the window. It was going to take a while to carefully cut through.
From time to time, I peered around to check the little window in my door, occasionally walking over to see what was going on in the corridor. In his seat across the hall from me, the cop who was supposed to be guarding me sprawled, head back, mouth open and eyes shut.
It was a long and painful process. Sometimes I’d slip, and cut my hands, and after an hour or so, I had quite a sore, raw wound on the side of my wrist.
I kept at it. I had nothing to lose.
It was hard to see what I was doing in the dim light from the corridor but finally, I was able to snap through the nylon. One cuff fell to the floor; the other remained like a bracelet around my wrist. I was free. At least, my hands were free.
I pulled out my drip and bandaged my injured wrist with part of the top of my hospital pyjamas, tying it off with a knot. Then I quickly changed into my clothes from where they’d been folded in the cupboard beside the bed, and stepped into a pair of canvas and rubber hospital slippers.
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