by David Evans
“I’ll be fine, yeah. I wasn’t feeling too hungry.” She looked up and smiled, but Souter could see she had been affected by everything that had happened the night before. “Plenty to keep me occupied,” she went on.
As they all stood up to leave, she looked at Souter. “Listen, let me know if you hear anymore about Kelly Stainmore.”
With assurances he would, he gave her a big hug. Then he and Susan headed back to the Yorkshire Post offices as Sammy departed in the opposite direction.
* * *
DS Ryan arrived with Kelly’s mother and father. He took them directly to HDU where the senior nurse in charge took them into her office to bring them up to speed with Kelly’s condition.
Strong and Ormerod were waiting outside Stainmore’s room. “How are they taking it?” he asked his DS.
“Worried shitless, I’d say. I think this is their worst nightmare, something happening to their daughter.”
Strong shook his head. “We’ve got a duty of care … I’ve got a duty of care, for my officers and I’ve let her down.”
“You can’t say that, guv. She insisted on coming with you. If she hadn’t …well, there was nothing you could have done.”
“I should have ordered her to stay put.” Strong turned away and walked over to a seat near the room’s vision panel, thankfully more comfortable than the ones outside the operating theatres.
Ryan and Ormerod exchanged looks. “He’s taking this personally, Jim,” Ormerod said in low tones.
Ryan merely nodded.
A uniformed constable then appeared, introduced himself and said he’d been appointed to patient security for the first shift. He took up position by the room door.
Ormerod’s phone rang and he turned away to take the call.
Stainmore’s parents reappeared from the office. “I’ll take you in to see Kelly now,” the nurse said, leading them to the room.
Kelly’s father paused at the door, recognising his daughter’s boss. “Mr Strong,” he said. “I understand you were with our Kelly last night.”
Strong stood and approached the man. “I’m so sorry, Mr Stainmore.”
“Please, call me Jeff. I understand you took care of her after it happened until the paramedics arrived. They tell me you might have saved Kelly’s life.”
“No, I …”
“She has the greatest respect for you Mr Strong. She always talks about you and how much she admires you. Thank you.”
The two men held each other’s gaze for a second before Jeff Stainmore joined his wife in Kelly’s room, sitting at her bedside.
“Guv,” Ormerod said excitedly, “You won’t believe what’s going on.”
Strong snapped his attention back to his DC. “Not more trouble?”
“Not here,” Ormerod replied. “I think we need to find a television. Apparently, two planes have crashed into the Twin Towers in New York. All Hell’s breaking loose over there.”
“Are you sure?” Strong looked incredulous.
“They’re speculating it’s no accident.”
Strong pulled out his mobile phone. “Christ, just when I thought the day couldn’t get any worse.” He dialled a number.
Ryan gave a puzzled look to Ormerod who shrugged his shoulders. “Not our jurisdiction, Guv.”
“Engaged.” Strong said. “It’s my mate, the one we rescued last night. His girlfriend is on a six-week secondment to their US office.” He re-dialled. “Based in the Twin Towers.”
“Shit,” Ryan said.
“Exactly.” He turned away. “Hello, Bob?”
60
When Souter and Susan walked into the newsroom, the tense atmosphere was overwhelming. Chandler and the Editor were standing in the middle of the room, looking at the television screen on the wall. The volume had been turned up. Pictures of a tall, smoking building were being broadcast.
“What’s going on?” Souter asked Janey Clarke who, like the other journalists, was on her feet, attention focussed on the live television pictures.
Without turning to look at him she said, “It looks like a plane’s just crashed into one of the Twin Towers in New York.”
Souter looked to the television and his stomach lurched. His legs buckled. Susan made a desperate attempt to stop him collapsing to the floor but it was too late. Most of his meal reappeared too.
John Chandler and Janey Clarke turned round immediately and bent down to help him. Susan pulled out a chair from a nearby desk. Between the three of them, they managed to sit him down. Janey went off saying she’d get a glass of water and some paper towels.
“Bob! Bob, can you hear me?” he heard Chandler say.
Of course I can fucking hear you, he said to himself. Aloud he said, “Yep. Yes, I’m all right.”
“You’re obviously not all right,” Chandler responded.
“I think it’s Alison,” Susan said quietly.
“Alison?” Chandler queried.
“She’s there.” Susan indicated the television. “She’s working in one of the towers. Been there for ten days.”
“Oh Christ.” The colour drained from Chandler’s cheeks.
Janey returned with a glass of water and one of the cleaners followed with a mop and bucket.
Souter took a drink. “What’s happening there?” he asked. “I need to see.” He stood up but staggered. Chandler steadied him.
They listened for a while as the television news presenters gave an account of how they had reports of at least two plane hijackings. One of those planes had crashed into the North Tower, somewhere below the one hundredth floor. Several times they repeated footage of the actual impact.
“Susan said Alison is out there. Do you know exactly where?” Chandler asked.
“Her firm has offices in the South Tower. Floor eighty.” Souter turned away quickly and pulled his mobile phone from his trouser pocket. “I need to hear she’s okay.”
Chandler and Susan turned with him. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Chandler said. “They’ve said they’re evacuating her building now.” He indicated the TV with his thumb.
Souter dialled a number, listened for a few seconds then pulled the phone from his ear and studied the screen. “Network busy,” he said and tried again.
“It’s bound to be,” Susan suggested. “Everybody will be trying to get hold of their friends and relatives.”
“Still busy,” Souter said, having tried again.
A sudden gasp drew everyone’s attention back to the television.
“What? What?” Souter said.
“Fucking hell!” one of the Post journalists exclaimed. “A plane’s just flown into the other tower now. What the fuck is happening here?”
“Let me see. Oh Christ! Alison … Oh, Jesus Christ, it can’t be …”
Chandler put his arm around Souter’s shoulders, steadied him once more “He can’t see this,” Chandler said. “Let’s get him up to my office.” He began to lead Souter towards the door.
“I can’t …” Souter protested, attempting to get a clearer view. “I need to get hold of her …” He fumbled with his mobile again.
“Let’s get you up to Mr Chandler’s office first, Bob. We can try and call her from there.”
Souter couldn’t remember much about the next few minutes. Somehow, Chandler and Susan forced him out of the newsroom and up one floor into the deputy editor’s office.
Sitting on the leather settee, Souter struggled to see the display on his phone through the tears in his eyes.
“Let me keep trying, Bob,” Susan said and gently took the mobile from his hand.
Chandler produced a black coffee from somewhere. “Drink this,” he said.
“What am I going to do?” Souter sobbed, spittle trailing down his chin. “What am I going to do?”
Susan dialled Alison’s number several more times with the same result. Just as she was about to try once more, the mobile rang.
“It’s Alison,” Souter said, jumping up and grabbing his mobile. Tears in
his eyes meant he couldn’t see the display clearly. “Alison? Are you okay?” he said into the phone.
“Bob, it’s me, Colin,” came his friend’s voice.
“Bob? Why are you calling? I thought it was …”
“Alison, I know. Look, I’ve just heard. Where are you?”
“I can’t get hold of her, Col. I’m trying all the time but I just can’t get through.”
“You probably won’t until all this settles. God knows when that’ll be. But where are you now?”
Souter composed himself. “I’m in John Chandler’s office. I saw the planes strike. It was awful. They hit the building Alison’s in.”
“Look, I’m just walking into the cafeteria here at the hospital. They’ve got the TV on. From what they’ve been saying, they were evacuating the buildings. She’s probably out on the street now.”
Souter pulled the phone away from his ear to speak to Chandler. “John, can we have that TV on?”
“I’m not sure it’s …” Chandler began.
“I need to see,” he said firmly.
“Okay.” Chandler switched on the small set sitting on top of the cabinet by the side of his desk.
Pictures of the smoking buildings filled the screen.
“They’re both on fire, Col.”
“I can see that.”
The phone rang on Chandler’s desk. Souter looked across expectantly.
“I’ve got to go. I need to keep trying to get hold of her.”
“Okay, mate but stay positive.”
Souter ended the call as Chandler covered the mouthpiece of his desk phone with his hand. “Someone called Sammy’s downstairs asking to see you.”
“Can I fetch her up?” Susan asked. “She’s a close friend of all of us.”
Chandler nodded and Susan left the room.
They listened as the commentators described the scene and surmised all sorts of theories as to what was happening and why.
Sammy came bursting into the room “Oh, Bob,” she sobbed. “What’s happening? They’re all in bits in the office.”
Souter stood and they embraced.
“Did they manage to speak to anyone in New York?” he asked.
“I think one of the bosses got through to someone over there just after the first plane hit but no one’s been able to contact them since.”
“Makes sense,” Susan said. “All the land lines would have been damaged. Did anybody try mobiles?”
Sammy shook her head. “Have you tried to get through on Alison’s?”
“I’m still trying.” Souter dialled Alison’s number yet again.
* * *
“We got you a coffee, Guv,” Ormerod said when Strong’s call had ended and he’d finally joined them at the table.
“What news?” Ryan asked as Strong put his mobile away.
“The man’s all over the place. He hasn’t been able to get hold of his girlfriend.”
“I doubt he will for some time.” Ryan indicated the large television on wall brackets at the far end of the cafeteria. “According to them, they’ve closed down the telephone networks. Fear of terrorists using mobile signals for their own ends, apparently.”
“A terrorist act? They think it’s terrorists?”
“I don’t think they know much at all at the moment, but you know how these journalists go,” Ormerod put in. “Sorry, I didn’t mean …I know your mate’s a journalist, I …”
“It’s all right, Luke.” Strong waved a hand, his attention not wavering from the screen. “I know what you mean.”
By now, all activity had come to a standstill in the cafeteria. Staff had swelled the numbers of customers transfixed by the unfolding drama. Strong had a feeling this was one of those moments in history where everyone would know where they were, when they looked back to this day; just like the moon landings.
Strong finally sipped his coffee and winced. Ormerod and Ryan had already finished theirs.
“Shall I get you another?” Ormerod asked.
“No thanks, Luke.”
Ryan stood up. “I’m going back upstairs to see how things are,” he said, then made his way out.
After he’d gone, Ormerod stared at his boss. “She will be okay, you know.”
“Who? Kelly or Alison?”
“Both.”
Strong shook his head, attention focussed on his DC. “I don’t know, Luke. I should never have agreed to her coming along.”
“But she grabbed the gun.”
“And if she hadn’t, I might be lying downstairs in the mortuary now. She saved my life. And yet everyone says I’ve saved hers. It’s my fault.”
Ormerod leaned forward on the table. “You can’t blame yourself. The only ones to blame are the bastards we have in custody.”
Before Strong could respond, there was a collective gasp uttered by the people watching events in New York. He and Ormerod both stood to see what was happening. In disbelief, they watched the South Tower slowly collapse in a huge dust cloud.
“Was that …”
The television commentary confirmed which tower had just gone down.
“Fuck,” Strong said, quietly. “That was where Bob’s girlfriend was based.”
“Guv,” Ryan came rushing in.
“I know, we’ve just seen it, Jim.”
“What?” He looked to the screen, then back to the DI. “No, not that. It’s Kelly. The machines have all gone off upstairs. Something’s wrong.”
61
In Chandler’s office, Souter and his boss, Susan and Sammy were transfixed to the small television screen. There was a collective intake of breath which seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room. It was held as they watched the South Tower fall in on itself and a dust cloud like a nuclear explosion fanned outwards and upwards from the base.
Sammy gripped Souter’s arm tightly, hid her face in his chest and gave a sob. Chandler froze, jaw open, while Susan covered her mouth with a hand, tears welling in her eyes.
Sammy straightened up. “That’s …” she began.
“Alison’s building, yes,” Susan continued for her.
Chandler opened a drawer in one of the filing cabinets by the side of his desk. A whisky bottle was produced with two glasses. He poured a generous measure and walked round to where Souter was sitting. “Here,” he said. “Drink this.”
Souter took the glass and, without looking at its contents, gulped it down in one. He turned to Sammy sitting alongside him. “Why me?” He looked pleadingly at his young friend. “What have I ever done to anyone? All I ever wanted was to have a soulmate, hopefully one day a family.”
Tears rolled down Sammy’s cheeks.
“I told you about Adam,” he continued. “What happened to him?”
She nodded, wiping her face with her hands. Susan, struggling to keep her emotions in check, gave Sammy a tissue.
“I was hoping … maybe one day … you know?”
“I know, Bob,” Sammy said. “But Alison didn’t tell you though, did she?”
Souter looked questioningly at her. “Tell me? Tell me what?”
“She wanted to but she thought you wouldn’t let her go.”
“Let her go? Why?”
“She was pregnant.”
He felt confused, puzzled. “No … when … I mean, why didn’t she tell me? She knew how much it would mean to me. She told you but not me?”
Sammy dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. “She was going to tell you when you went to that Italian restaurant.”
His thoughts began to clear. “She didn’t have anything to drink. I wondered … but why not tell me?”
Sammy took a breath. “She was worried how you would take the news.”
“Worried? Why? That would have been the best news I’d ever had.”
“I know. But she thought she’d tell you when you got to New York.” Sammy wiped her nose and sniffed. “I think she thought it would be more romantic.”
“And now she’s gone … with our child.”
/> Sammy put her arms around him and sobbed.
Susan squatted down in front of the pair and put her hands on Souter’s face, turning it to face her. “Look at me,” she said. “Alison’s not dead, Bob. She’s not, I can feel it.”
* * *
When Strong, Ormerod and Ryan reached the High Dependency Unit, Kelly’s mother and father were holding each other, sitting on two of the chairs. Strong glanced into the room and saw a team of at least five medical staff working around Kelly’s bed.
After a few minutes, the senior nurse came out and spoke to Kelly’s parents.
“What’s going on,” her mother asked. “The alarms just went berserk.”
“We think Kelly is still bleeding internally. The team have managed to stabilise her and she’ll be going back down to theatre now.”
As the nurse was talking, the door opened and Kelly was wheeled out and along the corridor to a waiting lift. Various tubes were in place and a team of three accompanied her.
“In the meantime, Mrs Stainmore,” the nurse continued, “has your daughter any underlying medical problems you are aware of?”
Kelly’s mother looked puzzled. “No. What sort of problems?”
“It’s just a routine enquiry. I mean, is she on any medication you know of? Does she suffer from any blood disorders for example?”
She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Not that I’m aware of.”
“Okay. Now look, please try not to worry, she’s in the best possible hands. There is a relatives’ room where you can wait. You may be more comfortable there. I can take you and I’ll come and tell you whenever we have any news.”
The nurse led Kelly’s parents down the corridor and disappeared.
Strong and Ormerod looked at one another.
“I’m not religious, Guv, but I’m praying,” Ormerod said.
“Look, you two get back to Wood Street,” Strong said. “I’ll stay here and talk to Kelly’s mum and dad.”
“You sure?” Ryan asked.
Strong nodded and watched as his two officers walked along the corridor and disappeared through doors at the end.
A minute later, the nurse reappeared.
Strong approached her. “Excuse me,” he said, “You were asking about Kelly just now.”