Dr Samantha Willerby Box Set

by A J Waines

  The blinds were down, so I flicked on the light. Leo’s office smelt of freshly cut paper and the vestiges of his expensive musky aftershave. It captured him so perfectly that I half expected him to slide out from behind the door and ask what had kept me.

  We’d been here in his office when we’d discussed the reversal procedure. His notes had been strewn across his desk. It was bare now, except for the photo of his wife, an old-fashioned leather ink blotter and a gold fountain pen in a holder. Leo wasn’t a man to use a biro.

  I swiftly unlocked his desk and filing cabinet. I was sure the notes wouldn’t be labelled, certainly not with anything useful, like Flashback Reversal Method. All I knew was there’d be a blue file and a green one; each about a centimetre thick.

  I pulled out folder after folder, flipped through box-files one after the next and drew a complete blank. The notes were handwritten, so it wasn’t going to be on his computer. I shouldn’t have been surprised that I couldn’t find them. Leo knew the police were crawling around and it wouldn’t have taken them long to link the notes with the suicides if they ever got their hands on them. They’d be tucked away somewhere safe. But where?

  I sensed movement behind me. ‘Any luck?’ said Lian, she was clutching a pile of envelopes.

  ‘No. Must be somewhere else.’

  They must be at his cottage. Out of harm’s way. How I was going to get in and find them was another matter altogether.

  Lian put the bundle down on Leo’s desk. ‘Post has just arrived,’ she said wearily. She ignored me and began sifting through, making a pile for Leo, a pile for herself. I didn’t move. I was staring at the desk, watching her stack four parcels beside Leo’s letters.

  Just as she finished, her phone rang and she scuttled away to answer it. I didn’t hesitate. I lunged at the packages, scanning them as quickly as I could.

  My luck was in. I snatched the parcel postmarked Seattle and stuffed it into my bag. Then I slipped out of Leo’s office and used the keys to get into the medical supply store. I grabbed a handful of hypodermic needles. When Lian returned to Leo’s office I was switching off the light and holding out the keys.

  ‘Do you have a list to show which consultants saw which patient?’ I asked, as I followed her into her room. I’d already seen the list that Debbie kept on file, but there was one question I’d omitted to ask.

  Lian flipped through files on her desk and pulled one out. As I’d thought, the list Debbie had given me was a photocopy and Lian’s sheets were the originals.

  ‘Whose signature is this?’ I asked, pointing to the scribble beside each of Terry Masters’ entries. Leo had seen Jane, Jake and Con for their injuries, but never Terry.

  She gave it a glance. ‘I’ve no idea. Must have been a locum.’

  ‘Is there any way I could find out who it was?’

  The surgeon who had seen Terry, could have become involved with the others too. That person could be the missing link.

  She snatched the folder out of my reach in a way that suggested she hadn’t time for such insignificant matters. ‘Debbie has the list of current locums,’ she muttered. ‘You should be able to track them down from there.’

  There was something odd about the locum’s signature. ‘Let me look again,’ I said, reaching out. I thought we might be in for a tug of war, but reluctantly she let me have the file.

  I slid the original form under the angle-poise lamp to get a closer look, then held the sheet above the lamp, so that the light was shining up through the paper. I could now see what the problem was.

  The original signature had been covered with a discreet layer of correction fluid. There was another one written over the top. I checked all the entries beside Terry’s name and they were all the same. Each one had been very carefully altered; undetectable to the naked eye.

  ‘The signature’s been changed,’ I said, musing out loud, inviting Lian to lean over and look.

  She cleared her throat and looked away.

  ‘Did you know about this?’ I asked gently.

  She opened her mouth, then closed it. ‘Did someone fake the signature, Lian?’ Again, softly without accusation.

  Her shock over Leo’s critical state had dislodged her cast-iron guard. She jerked upright. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she whispered.

  I spoke the unspeakable words. ‘Did Dr Hansson alter it so he wouldn’t be connected with Terry Masters?’

  ‘No. It wasn’t him,’ she protested. She gulped as if she was short of breath. ‘It was me. I wanted to protect him. Dr Hansson has been under such pressure lately – what with his wife…then these suicides…’ She grabbed my arm. ‘I talked him into it. It was stupid, I know. But after the first two deaths he had a bad feeling. He was worried about his job, like you. He was concerned the hospital would mount a full investigation and find him…wanting.’

  ‘Wanting?’

  ‘Yes – he’s been a bit off form in surgery, lately. He hasn’t been himself. I mean, it’s understandable…’ She made a grab for the incriminating page. ‘Please don’t tell anyone. It doesn’t matter now, does it? I mean Terry’s dead. It’s no one’s fault.’

  The possible repercussions bounced around inside my head. Leo had been the common factor at the hospital. All four patients: Jane, Jake, Terry and Con had seen him exclusively for their injuries. Did this cover-up put Leo in the frame or had he simply been worried about his job?

  ‘I’ll take this,’ I said, holding the sheet out of her reach. ‘But I promise I won’t take it any further until I’ve…spoken to Leo.’

  I left her staring into space, chewing a nail.

  Before I went anywhere else, I stood in the stairwell and made a call to Imogen. She was about to give a seminar, but she said she could spare me a few minutes.

  I told her Leo had fallen from the roof and was in intensive care.

  ‘Oh, how awful,’ she said. ‘Is he going to make it?’

  ‘It’s in the lap of the gods.’

  I closed my eyes and told her the next bit.

  ‘Hold on…’ she said. There was horror in her voice. ‘You’re going to attempt this procedure yourself?’

  ‘I have no choice.’

  ‘That’s a tall order, Sam.’

  ‘It’s for Con.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be experimenting with this on your own. You need a neuroscientist to be working at this level. The damage it could cause doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  She was absolutely right, of course; I hated the idea that I was stepping in like some kind of omnipotent saviour. Nevertheless, a life was at stake and I didn’t feel like I had any choice.

  ‘It’s like I’m up against a time-bomb here,’ I said. ‘Con has made two attempts to kill himself already. He’s terribly unstable. No other professional would dare come on board with me while the whole thing is being investigated by the police. It could be weeks before Con gets the process reversed. You see my problem?’

  She sighed. ‘I’m not happy, but – just be really careful, okay?’

  ‘I will.’

  I thanked her for not disowning me, took a deep breath and strode round to intensive care to see if there was any news about Leo. No change. As I returned to my office, Debbie came running to meet me in the corridor. She was grim-faced.

  ‘It’s not Con, is it?’

  She shook her head. ‘There are two men waiting for you in your office.’

  ‘Police?’

  ‘No…’ Her frozen look told me everything I needed to know.

  She abandoned me at the door and I walked gingerly inside.

  ‘Dr Samantha Willerby?’ asked an officer in uniform. I spotted the word Security on his epaulette.

  ‘Yes.’

  In unison, they hooked their hands under my shoulders and almost lifted me off the floor. ‘We are escorting you from the building, Dr Willerby,’ said the taller one. ‘We’re under strict instructions not to allow you inside the hospital premises during your period of suspension.’ His voice was d
eadpan, as though he could do this job in his sleep.

  The two guards took me right out as far as the pavement.

  ‘Why wasn’t I told about this?’ I said, pulling down my sleeves, once they’d let go.

  ‘You should have had a letter in the post,’ came the reply.

  I clicked my tongue. Checking my post had gone by the wayside in the mania of the last few days. The smaller guard held his hand open. ‘Keys and pass, please.’

  Chapter 36

  I went straight to the Young Vic to find Con. He was on stage taking some students through their lines for a new production of Much Ado about Nothing. Danny was in the wings, marking up the stage directions.

  ‘Thank you so much for watching him,’ I said, patting his shoulder.

  We both looked over at Con who was waving his arms, like a conductor, in front of a group of teenagers. His untamed hair shimmied from side to side when he shouted. He was a formidable presence; upright, confident, charismatic. It was the first thing that had attracted me to him. Was his possessiveness so bad? If it was the only snag in our relationship, once the flashbacks had been dealt with, then we were doing pretty well, weren’t we?

  Except, deep down, I knew it wasn’t the only snag.

  ‘He’s been less subdued today,’ Danny said, sliding his pencil behind his ear.

  I sank down onto a stool beside him. The whole place smelt of chalk; it crept into my throat, my eyes. ‘I’m suspended from the hospital,’ I said flatly. ‘Not allowed inside the building.’

  ‘Shit!’ He drew in his chin sharply. ‘For how long?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. Until the suicides have been fully investigated and I’m cleared. It could be weeks.’

  Danny let out a little snort of outrage. ‘But none of this is your fault. Con told me about it.’

  ‘I know. They’ve got a bloody cheek. Talk about innocent until proven guilty.’

  A thought lodged in my head. Perhaps this was Professor Schneider’s doing, to get me out of the way.

  A burst of applause erupted from the stage and I watched Con take mock bows in front of his group. He was loving the limelight. He strode jauntily over to join us.

  ‘Hiya – good day?’ he called out.

  ‘No – not really. I’ve been suspended from the hospital.’

  He pulled me to him, planted a kiss in my hair. ‘Well – never mind. It won’t be for long, I’m sure.’ I couldn’t believe his insensitivity. Danny caught me nipping my lips together. ‘Anyway, that’s good, isn’t it?’ Con carried on. ‘It means you can spend more time with me.’

  I drew away, but didn’t say anything. It struck me that I could tell Con every single thing about me and he would never really know who I was. He’d never grasp what made me tick. It left me with a sinking feeling.

  Con climbed the stairs ahead of me when we got to my flat. He stopped abruptly on the landing. I drew alongside him. At first, I thought heaps of rubbish had been left outside my door, until I realised one of the items was a blue suitcase. In the midst of the heap, something moved.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I said with dismay. ‘Why aren’t you at Linden Manor?’

  ‘I couldn’t bear it,’ she said, getting to her feet.

  Con hugged her. ‘Hi, babe,’ he said cheerfully.

  We went inside. I had one hell of a headache coming on.

  ‘You can’t stay here…’ I was about to say her name, but didn’t know whether she was currently calling herself Mimi or Miranda. ‘You have to go back for your own safety.’

  Con stepped between us. ‘Can’t she stay and catch her breath?’

  ‘You! In the kitchen,’ I said. I had no surplus energy for niceties. I ushered him against the fridge and shut the door. ‘You don’t know what she did to my mother’s face. We don’t know what she did to escape. She’s a danger to herself…and others.’

  ‘We’re all a danger to ourselves and others,’ he said flippantly.

  ‘Yours is temporary,’ I pointed out. ‘Miranda has had her craziness for a lifetime.’

  ‘She was doing so well.’

  I was shouting now. ‘Well, that’s what mental illness is like. It comes and goes. That’s why we’ve got to be so careful. I’m in enough trouble as it is at the hospital.’

  I sat down and motioned for him to do the same.

  ‘We’re nearly there, Con. I just need to get Leo’s files and then I can take you through the process.’ I put the package with the drug we needed on the table and patted it. ‘I’ve got what we were waiting for.’

  ‘Hang on – you’re seriously going to strap me to a chair and stick needles in me with some mind-bending drug that’s going to strip away all—’

  ‘Sounds great,’ said Miranda, barging in. ‘Can I have a go?’

  ‘It’s not a game, Miranda.’ I took a chance on the name and she didn’t flinch.

  ‘But what if I’ve got bad memories I want to remove?’ she queried.

  I wanted to slam my hand on the table and tell her that Mum, Dad and I were the ones with the bad memories – after all her years of outrageous behaviour, but I managed to stop myself. ‘No – this is different,’ I said wearily.

  ‘Have you got a flash-gun like they use in Men in Black?’ She stuck a finger in her mouth and began sucking it like a toddler.

  ‘No, Miranda.’ I put my hand over the package. ‘This is for a very specific condition and you don’t have it.’

  ‘Is this about those patients who died? The ones with the hallucinations?’

  I hadn’t realised she’d picked up so much information while she’d been around us. I glanced at Con and he looked away, confirming my hunch that he may have played a part in that.

  ‘Do the memories have to be recent?’ she said sombrely.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ interjected Con. ‘Just very clear.’

  ‘Oh – they’re clear, all right,’ she said.

  ‘Listen, Miranda. Let’s talk about your memories another time. I need to use this special method urgently – just with Con. You shouldn’t know about it. Until I can give him the treatment, Con’s in danger if you mention it to anyone.’

  She giggled.

  I sat down and sank my head onto my folded arms. The headache had set up a punishing rhythm of its own throughout my entire body; my temples, my lower back – even my teeth. I felt like a whole jungle tribe were thwacking drums and jangling bells inside my veins.

  There was still one serious drawback to my plan. I had no idea how I was going to get the notes from Leo’s cottage.

  Before long, Con and Miranda were playing card games in the sitting room like old friends. I heard Con cry out in mock complaint.

  ‘Aces again! That’s not fair,’ he said. ‘Are you cheating?’

  I laughed wryly to myself. Whenever things weren’t going his way, Con immediately assumed he was being deceived.

  I watched from the doorway, desperately wishing I could join them. I ached for this to be over and for the three of us to laugh, joke and poke fun at each other. More than anything, it would have been nice to spend some private time with Miranda, but no doubt she would be snatched away again at any moment.

  I turned my attention instead to Leo’s cottage. I remembered the trademark Banham keyhole on the front door. A sturdy five-lever lock. I was hardly going to be able to slide a credit card inside the doorframe and be rewarded with an instant open sesame. I tried to remember if Leo had a burglar alarm. I couldn’t recall seeing a number pad anywhere in his hallway. That was a vague plus-point in the sea of negatives.

  What about the back of the property? I’d been in the kitchen and could bring up images of French windows leading to a tiny patio, but there was no back gate, as far as I could recall, just a high brick wall.

  I ran through all the options I could think of, no matter how ridiculous they sounded. Con could climb the back wall and break in; he was a natural risk-taker. Right now, however, he was changeable and volatile. Too unreliable.

>   There was Danny – I ruled him out immediately. It wasn’t even fair to consider him. Who did that leave? I started running through everyone I could think of and suddenly I had it. It was so obvious, I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before.

  I picked up my phone and made a call to Lian.

  ‘You’re suspended,’ she said accusingly. News travelled fast.

  ‘I know, but this isn’t a hospital matter directly.’

  I told her what I needed. One simple thing.

  She was reluctant at first, so I was forced to switch on the charm. ‘I’m sure Dr Hansson would be grateful – he does seem to think rather highly of you.’

  ‘Well…’ she said, sounding smug and making me wait. ‘No more favours after this one, okay?’ I could hear how much she was enjoying occupying the moral high ground. I wrote down the number she gave me and thanked her through gritted teeth.

  I made the call straight away. The phone rang and rang and I was about to give up, when a female voice with a refined accent came on the line.

  ‘Felicity Hansson speaking…’

  I almost leaped up with joy, but reined myself in. I needed to get this next part absolutely right.

  ‘Hi, Felicity – it’s Sam Willerby. We met at your Mum’s funeral. I work with your father at St Luke’s Hospital.’ She didn’t say anything. ‘I’m so very sorry about what’s happened to him.’

  ‘Right…’ she said inconclusively.

  ‘Listen, I know this isn’t a good time, but there’s something I need to ask you.’ Again, nothing was coming back. ‘I think your father has some research papers we were working on together at his cottage. They’re confidential and it’s imperative that I get hold of them. Have you been over there, recently?’

  ‘No. I’ve never been to my Dad’s new place. And I don’t have a key.’

  Those last six words hit me like a steel wrecking ball. My vision went hazy.

  ‘No key?’ I said in a whisper. My neck barely felt strong enough to hold my head up any more.

  That was that. No key. No notes. No way to save Con. My mind was whirling with such confusion and despair that I barely registered she was speaking again.