The Smoke In The Photograph

by Kit Tinsley

  He leant forward and kissed her on the head.

  'It would make me feel a lot better about leaving you,' he said.

  'Okay then,' she said and then added, 'I love you.'

  'I love you too,' he said. 'I'm going to take a quick shower. Why don't you phone Wendy and Paula?'

  She reached for the phone, knowing full well she couldn't reach it. She pouted and opened and closed her hand.

  Steven shook his head and sighed. Getting up he grabbed the phone and threw it to her. She caught it and then blew him a kiss.

  CHAPTER TEN

  'So did you arrange it?' Julia whispered as she let Wendy into the hallway. Her friend began taking off her coat.

  'I did, but…' she began to say in her normal voice.

  Julia put her finger to her lips and shushed her.

  'Keep it down,' she whispered. 'I don't want Steven to know.'

  This is why earlier she had waited until she had heard the water going in the shower before making the call to Wendy. Steven would not approve of her plan, but she had to find out what was going on.

  'Okay,' Wendy whispered. 'It's all sorted out, but why?'

  Julia was going to tell her, but she heard the sound of Steven's heavy footsteps on the stairs. She looked up as he came into view around the bend of the staircase. He was dressed as he usually did when he went in for surgery, just his jogging bottoms and a sweat shirt. He didn't see the point in getting dressed up when he was only going to change into scrubs as soon as he got there. He smiled at the two women as he descended.

  'Good evening, ladies,' he said, then looked around. 'Where is the third member of the terrible trio?'

  Wendy looked confused for a moment.

  'Huh? What?' she asked, before the comment clicked. 'Oh, Paula couldn't make it. She had to go and get the kids from their dad’s.'

  Steven nodded then turned to his wife.

  'I have to go and fix people.'

  He walked over to Julia and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into his embrace. There was something magical to her about his hugs that always comforted her. She assumed it was just that hugs were a pretty much alien concept to her before she met him, and now she couldn't get enough.

  He kissed her on the mouth. A gentle, tasteful kiss, but one that showed his love for her more than any passionate kiss could.

  'I'll see you in the morning then?' Julia said as he stepped away from her.

  'Yes, you will,' he said, planting a second little kiss on her cheek. 'Are you going to be all right?'

  His concern was sweet, if not a little condescending.

  'Hey, I'm here to look after her,' Wendy said. 'She'll be fine.'

  Steven looked at Wendy and smiled, but when he turned around to her, Julia could still see the uncertainty in his eyes.

  'I feel much better now,' she said. 'I guess you were right; I just wore myself out.'

  Steven nodded. There was still a hint of doubt in his face, but Julia believed she had allayed the worst of his fears. He leant forward and kissed her once more.

  Julia was aware of Wendy pretending to stick her fingers down her throat in mock disgust at the public display of affection, but Julia didn't care.

  'See you in the morning,' Steven said, then turned around and went to the door.

  'Night, Steve,' Wendy said as he passed. Steven said bye. Then he was gone.

  Wendy turned back to Julia.

  'So what's going on?' she asked.

  Julia put her finger up, asking Wendy to wait. She listened and heard Steven's car start up and reverse across the gravel then head up the drive. Then she grabbed Wendy by the hand.

  'You've arranged for her to come at nine?' she asked.

  'Yes, but why did I?' Wendy asked in a tone that matched the look of confusion on her face.

  Julia began pulling her by the hand towards the staircase.

  'Come upstairs. I'll show you.'

  Sam had spent most of the day going through the case files with Graves, and attempting to ignore his seemingly unending hangover.

  It was a pointless exercise. Over the past six years the files had been examined practically every week and never revealed anything. This time was no exception.

  He got a call from Alex Parker in forensics asking him to stop by. Graves had tried to tell him that perhaps the whiz kid had finally caught them a break. Sam had pretended to be optimistic, but in reality he doubted it.

  Driving over to the crime lab he had been thinking that maybe it was now time to move on. Perhaps he should make an appointment with Reed the following day and say he would take the reassignment there and then. What was the point in dragging out the inevitable for another two weeks?

  He would request to take some leave. God knows he was owed plenty. He hadn't taken any holiday since the Ripper case began. He wanted a change of scenery, and to recharge his batteries, but more importantly, he needed to reconnect with his children. He was almost a stranger to them now. He knew there was little chance of repairing his marriage. She had moved on, and he could not blame her for that. His children, however, deserved their father.

  As he walked into the crime lab, he saw Alex sitting behind the desk in his office. He was shuffling papers and adding them to the other mountains of crap piled up in front of him. Alex Parker and his amazing filing system.

  'You better have a bloody good reason for calling me here,' he said as he came into the office.

  Alex looked up, a little shocked.

  'Jesus,' he said. 'What's up with you?'

  Perhaps his words had come out harsher than he had intended. The lingering throb of the hangover was making him irritable.

  'Sorry, it's been another tough day. Reed told me yesterday I have two weeks left on the case, and I decided to drown my sorrows. Really paying for it now, though.'

  Alex nodded his acceptance of the apology.

  'That's a tough break,' he said. 'This might cheer you up, though.'

  Sam hadn't noticed until now, but there was a twinkle in Alex's eye. There was the hint of a grin caressing his lips, like a child who was trying desperately to keep a big secret.

  Sam pulled out the chair opposite Alex and sat down.

  'What have you got?

  Alex leant forward. He was practically shaking with excitement, and it was contagious. Sam began to feel his optimism return. He knew from experience that when Alex Parker was excited about something, a big clue had been uncovered.

  'You know I told you I'd clean up and examine the scalpel?' Alex said.

  Sam nodded.

  'After I did that, the first thing I saw was a small red mark, like a little splatter of paint.'

  Sam was just about to ask the obvious question.

  'Yes,' Alex said before he had the chance. 'I've sent a sample off to be tested against paint brands.'

  'Of course you have,' Sam said, smiling. 'If it's an unusual brand, it might help.'

  'Then I ran it under a UV light,' Alex continued. 'I found a security code on it.'

  The words made Sam's pulse quicken as Alex spoke.

  'It's the security code for Lincoln County Hospital. Apparently it's put on every item of stock they buy, to try to deter theft.'

  Sam wanted to hug Alex. In fact he would have been willing to kiss him.

  'He's a surgeon,' Sam said. 'He's a fucking surgeon at the hospital.'

  Alex shrugged.

  'Possibly,' he said. 'He could have just stolen it from there, but it's a definite connection to the hospital.'

  'Either way I'd better check it out,' Sam said. 'Can I take the scalpel with me?'

  Alex opened the drawer of his desk. He pulled out the scalpel in an evidence bag.

  'I thought you might say that,' he handed it over to Sam. 'Just please don't lose it.'

  Sam tucked the evidence bag into the inside pocket of his jacket. Standing up, he turned to leave but then turned back to Alex.

  'I'm going to get him,'

  'I know you are,' Alex said. />
  'I fucking love you, Alex Parker,' Sam said with a broad grin.

  'Get out,' Alex said, laughing.

  Julia was standing off to the side letting Wendy take in the two painting side by side. Over the years she had shown Wendy so many of her paintings, and her friend had always raved about the beauty, or how good they were. This time though she just stood staring at them for a long time. Her brow was furrowed and her mouth slightly opened.

  'So you really had no idea what you were doing?' she said. 'You're not just trying to pull my leg? I know how much you and my sister like to take the piss out of my belief in the paranormal.'

  Julia went to her and took her hands in her own. She looked at her.

  'I swear to you I'm telling the truth,' she said, before letting go of Wendy's hands and turning to the paintings. 'It was like I was painting on autopilot or something.'

  Wendy shook her head and stepped closer to the painting. She gasped when she saw the woman at the window in the painting of the house.

  'Fucking hell,' she said, stepping away from the painting. 'You know who that is, right?'

  This was the reaction Julia had hoped for. Wendy had known Helen Swanson. If she recognised her from the painting, it implied that she was not imaging things.

  'I do now,' Julia said. 'I didn't when I painted it.'

  Wendy shivered.

  'That's creepy,' she said, stepping away from the painting. 'Steven didn't believe you?'

  Julia shook her head.

  'He just thought I was having another breakdown.’

  She felt Wendy's gaze before she looked up. It was the one that people gave her all of the time now, asking without words if she was feeling okay. She was accustomed to it from Steven, and Fran. It was a look she had never received from Wendy before. She thought she was the one person who wouldn't do it. She felt a sudden rush of anger.

  'For God's sake. I'm not crazy. I'm not making this up.'

  Wendy smiled, her caring smile, the one she had given her every time she had visited her in the hospital. It wasn't forced or patronising like other people’s. It was gentle, and genuine.

  'I believe you.’

  'You do?' Julia said.

  'Yes, but you all think I'm weird anyway.’

  'Not anymore,.’

  Wendy wandered over to the second painting, the one of the camera.

  'What does this mean?' she asked.

  Julia shook her head.

  'I don't know for sure,' she said. 'But it gave me an idea. You see the way that it focuses on the lens, and how the smoke is reflected in it. It seemed to me like it was a message, telling me to take pictures, so…'

  Julia wandered over to the darkroom. She opened the door and reached inside. She found what she was looking for on the counter where she had left them. She hadn't even bothered showing them to Steven. After the way he had reacted to the paintings, if she had tried to show him these, he would have had her sectioned there and then.

  She walked back to the middle of the studio where Wendy was still looking at the paintings. More than that, she was studying them, like she was looking for more clues hidden within the images.

  Julia handed the small stack of photographs over to Wendy. Her friend took them. There were thirty in all, and she began to scan through them. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened a little. She began to flick through them.

  'The smoke is in the photographs,' Wendy said.

  Julia nodded.

  'Yes, in every single picture,' she said. 'But in different places, and different amounts and shapes. So I don't think it's a fault with the camera.'

  'You think it's Helen Swanson, don't you?'

  Julia felt huge relief to hear someone else say this out loud. Despite her protestations of feeling fine, there had been a small amount of doubt in the back of her mind that she was making too much of it, that perhaps she was losing control again. However, as soon as Wendy said this, it was like a little prayer, washing away the demons of doubt.

  'I do,' she said, nodding. 'I just don't know what she wants.'

  Wendy looked back at the picture of the woman in the window, the grimace of fear and pain that she wore, then looked back at Julia.

  'That's why you wanted me to get my psychic to come round.’

  Steven was sitting in the armchair in the surgical lounge, a hot plastic cup of coffee in his hands. The hemorrhage had taken them hours to sort out. It looked for a while as though they would not manage to find it in time and the poor man would die. They had been pumping extra blood into him, but he had been bleeding out almost as fast as it was going in.

  Eventually he had spotted the small tear in the artery that was causing the problem. Walden had been impressed enough with him to let him suture the tear, and close up. The patient remained in critical condition, but at least he stood a fighting chance now.

  Walden came in and started making himself a coffee.

  'Nice work tonight, Steve,.’

  'Thanks,' Steven said. 'I'm sure you would have found the tear yourself in another few minutes.'

  'Perhaps,' Walden said. 'Those minutes might have cost the patient his life though.'

  Steven shrugged. There was no way of knowing that for sure, but he suspected it was probably accurate. There had been several points during the operation where he had worried that they were going to lose the patient. He would have hated that. Obviously it had happened more than a few times.

  He had heard other surgeons talk of the way that they dealt with this by seeing their patients as nothing more than a meat machine once they were on the table. Steven couldn't do this himself. He could never disassociate the meat on the operating table from the person they were.

  'I think my eyesight is starting to let me down,' Walden said, sitting down next to Steven. 'It's been worrying me for some time.'

  'I'm sure it's fine,' Steven said, seeking to reassure his boss. 'Perhaps you just need some new glasses.'

  Walden took off his glasses. He pointed to his eyes.

  'These are the most important thing to a surgeon,' he said. 'Once they start to go it's time to consider hanging up your scalpel.'

  Steven wondered whether he meant it. The prospect of Walden retiring was a good one for him. There were very few other candidates to replace him in the hospital. Steven would be virtually guaranteed the post.

  The door opened and a young nurse walked in.

  'Excuse me, there's a detective here. He wants to speak to a surgeon.'

  Steven looked to Walden. As the senior surgeon in the room it really should be him, but Walden shook his head.

  'I went off duty as soon as you sewed up our patient.’

  Steven rolled his eyes then turned to the nurse.

  'All right,' he said. 'Can you send him in here please?'

  She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her.

  Walden got to his feet and patted Steven on the shoulder.

  'I'm going to take a shower and then head home' he said. 'Once again, great work tonight.'

  Steven thanked him and then got up to make himself another coffee. He knew he was in for a long night and needed all of the help he could get to get through it. The door opened and the nurse returned. She was followed by a tall man with dark hair, who Steven recognised from the news as the detective in charge of the Ripper case.

  'This is Doctor Draper,' she told the detective. 'He's the duty surgeon tonight.'

  'Thank you,' the detective said as the nurse turned and left them. The detective stepped forward and offered Steven his hand.

  'Good evening, Doctor Draper,' he said. 'Thank you very much for seeing me. I'm Detective Chief Inspector Fluting.'

  Steven shook his hand.

  'Pleased to meet you,' Steven said. 'So, how can I help?'

  DCI Fluting reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a scalpel in a small, clear plastic bag.

  'Do you recognise this?' he asked.

  Steven was tempted to point out that it was a scalpel, but he t
hought that the detective might not see the funny side.

  'Obviously it's a scalpel,' Steven said. 'They all look alike though really.'

  Fluting nodded.

  'It has a security mark on it that shows it belongs to this hospital,' he said. 'I wondered if it could have been stolen. Has this department had any break ins lately?'

  Steven shook his head.

  'Not that I'm aware of. To be honest though, they order them in bulk so no one would notice if a hundred were missing, let alone one.'

  Fluting frowned and put the scalpel back into his pocket.

  'So why have them security tagged then?'

  Steven shrugged.

  'I'm not entirely sure, some sort of cross-hospital policy, I think.'

  Fluting looked disappointed, as though he was hoping for more of an answer, as though he needed more of an answer.

  'It's important,' the detective said. 'I need to find out as much about the scalpel as I can.'

  Steven nodded.

  'Where was it found?' he asked.

  'At a murder scene,' Fluting replied.

  Steven understood now its importance. He had just been shown the Ripper's weapon.

  'Sister Hartley, she's the theatre manager. She’ll be able to tell you more about it. The nurse who brought you in can get you her number.'

  Fluting nodded his appreciation.

  'Thank you for your time, Doctor Draper,.’

  'You're welcome,' Steven replied. 'Let me show you back out.'

  Steven opened the door and the detective followed him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Julia sat by the log burner, her mind full of questions. She had never believed in the supernatural. To her it had always been the last resort of the gullible and desperate. Now though what other explanation could there be? She had moved into a new home, and in less than two days she had already asked for a psychic to visit.

  She watched the roaring flames. They danced in a hypnotic fashion. She wondered what good the clairvoyant would really do. She was already convinced her home was haunted, and fairly certain of by whom. Also she feared that the woman would be just a scam artist, a charlatan who preyed upon the vulnerable. Wendy swore by the woman, but Wendy was vulnerable herself. She had lost both her parents at a young age, and since then had longed to believe that spirits existed. It would imply that, in some way, her parents were still around her.