Doctors at Risk

by Alison Roberts

  ‘How many people were trapped altogether?’

  ‘Only half a dozen. The local fire service had managed one extrication before we got there. Our squad dealt with those two and Fletch’s team found three. Then there was Joe’s accident and after that we had to go back and check the whole area again. We found the last fatality just after midnight.’

  ‘Did they provide good accommodation for you?’

  ‘It was great. We were in a motel near the hospital so we got to sneak in and see Joe in the emergency observation ward. We ended up only getting a couple of hours’ sleep because we had to be available for a debrief at 7 a.m.’

  ‘Did they put everyone up at the same motel?’

  Wendy nodded. ‘I was supposed to be sharing with Kelly but she disappeared into Fletch’s unit.’ She grinned. ‘He’d been put down to share with Kyle but he just disappeared completely. I suppose he went home but Dave was really annoyed when he didn’t show up for the debrief or police interviews.’

  ‘I guess they’ll find him if they need to.’ Ross looked curious. ‘What sort of questions did they ask?’

  ‘General stuff mostly. About me. About the course and the people involved. Who was friends with whom. What I knew about their backgrounds, which wasn’t much except for the other medical people. It felt too social to be any kind of interrogation. The detectives were very pleasant.’

  ‘So they didn’t ask whether you had any recipes for bombs tucked away in your USAR course material?’

  Wendy laughed. ‘No, but I was talking to Roger while we were both waiting for our turns. He said it was quite easy to get directions on how to make bombs off the internet.’

  ‘I’ll bet it’s not that easy. I wouldn’t have a clue how to trawl through the kind of dubious sites you’d come up with. Would you?’

  ‘Can’t say I’ve ever tried.’ Wendy’s smile was amused. ‘I’ll bet Kyle would know. He practically lives on the net.’

  ‘When he’s not surfing radio transmissions,’ Ross suggested drily. ‘But I don’t think Kyle is as clever as he’d like us to believe. Besides, you’d still have to go shopping for the ingredients. Buying dynamite and detonators and electronic timers might make someone suspicious, don’t you think?’

  ‘You can buy stuff over the internet as well, you know.’ Wendy wasn’t ready to drop a topic that suddenly seemed a long way from being the joke it had started as. She barely heard the start of what Ross was saying about the impression he’d had that Kyle’s only claims to great intelligence and achievements came from fantasies the young man created.

  ‘And you’d think he was permanently employed by the fire service in a large city, not a part-time volunteer in a tiny rural community.’ Ross stopped speaking abruptly. ‘What are you looking at me like that for?’

  ‘Don’t you remember? That night we went out for pizza with everyone. The day we’d done that search and retrieval assessment at the rubbish tip?’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Someone said something like that to Kyle. That he didn’t know anything about fighting big blazes.’

  ‘And?’ Ross was looking puzzled.

  ‘And Kyle said they’d had a serial arsonist at work in his area. A school had been burned. And a hall or church or something.’ Wendy’s gaze was fixed intently on Ross. ‘And that detective told me that sometimes working from the inside out in cases like this can be effective. Like when they find a fireman who’s so keen on fires he becomes an arsonist.’

  ‘Oh, come on! You can’t be serious.’ Ross was grinning broadly. ‘Kyle Dickson?’

  ‘He’s a creep.’

  ‘He’s an idiot, yes. A harmless one, as long as people around him take a bit of care.’

  ‘I’m beginning to wonder just how harmless he is.’

  Ross laughed. ‘Don’t get paranoid here.’

  ‘That’s not funny.’ The sharp tone wasn’t really justified. Ross couldn’t know that Wendy had been giving herself the same warning as recently as a few days ago. Worrying about being followed when some innocent jogger had happened to choose the same route, about being burgled when nothing had been missing. About probably mistaken delivery of flowers, or lost cards, and someone’s phone calls being disconnected or a wrong number. She tried to smile. Ross was right—she was letting her imagination run away with her, and now she had snapped at him and ruined what had been the best conversation they’d had in weeks.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I guess I’m just tired.’

  ‘Hardly surprising.’ Ross was still looking wary. ‘Are you sure you’re up to working today?’

  ‘I’ll be fine. I’ve only got today and then I’m off for two days. I’m going down to Silverstream to help Jessica pack.’ The reminder about work gave Wendy cause to glance at her watch. ‘Good grief! It’s time I went in. I had no idea we’d been talking that long.’

  ‘Time flies when you’re having fun.’

  ‘Sure does.’ Wendy’s second attempt to lighten what had become a tense atmosphere failed despite the smile that indicated Ross had forgiven her sharp words. She walked a little to one side of Ross as he propelled his chair back towards the main entrance. The tension she was aware of now had nothing to do with Ross. The suspicion she had planted in her own mind was too strong to be easily weeded out. It was taking root.

  And growing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘THIS is probably going to sound a bit silly.’

  ‘It’s my job to listen.’ Wendy was given a welcoming smile. ‘Can I get you a coffee or anything?’

  ‘No, thanks. I haven’t got that long. I’m due at work at 3 p.m.’

  ‘Hmm.’ The young detective constable followed her gaze to the digital clock over the doorway. ‘Sorry to have kept you waiting so long. Things are a bit hectic round here. We’ve got a major homicide investigation under way and there’s some creep who’s targeting girls on their way home from school. I’m about the only one left in the office right now.’ He cleared his throat, clearly eager not to waste any more time. ‘What is it that you do?’

  ‘I’m a nurse. At Coronation Hospital.’ Wendy looked away from the keen scrutiny she was under, allowing her gaze to coast over the almost bare walls and minimal furnishings of this small corner of Christchurch’s central police station. A poster showed a dodgy-looking character hunched near the driver’s door or a car. The slogan ‘Lock it…or lose it’ framed the picture. Wendy had an empty chair beside her and had been sitting in the room for long enough to wonder whether her reasons for being here would be considered remotely valid.

  ‘You’re Wendy, right?’

  ‘That’s right. Wendy Watson.’

  ‘Hi, Wendy.’ The police officer was smiling again. ‘I’m Nick Thompson.’

  Wendy returned the smile briefly. ‘Nick’s a good name for a cop.’

  Nick laughed. ‘So, what can I do for you, Wendy?’

  ‘I think I may have some information. Concerning the Westgate Mall incident.’

  ‘Oh?’ Nick looked surprised.

  ‘I’m involved with USAR,’ Wendy explained. ‘Urban Search and Rescue? I was in one of the teams that went to Westgate.’

  ‘Really? I was there, too.’ Nick hadn’t started writing anything on the piece of paper he had placed on the desk. ‘Never seen anything like that before. Awesome job.’ His gaze was frankly admiring now. ‘USAR, huh? Those blue overalls and orange helmets, right? You were right in the thick of things, weren’t you? I never got to go inside.’ Nick’s disappointment was obvious.

  Wendy cast a faintly despairing glance at the clock. ‘We got called to Dunedin last week for the Octagon Mall incident as well.’

  ‘Really? Wow!’

  Wendy suppressed a sigh. She had expected someone a lot more senior than Nick to be interested in what she had to say. ‘We got interviewed by the police in Dunedin following that incident. I got the impression they were interested in USAR personnel as a possible suspect source.’ It would have been easie
r to have spoken to the Dunedin detective she had tried to contact but she couldn’t remember his name and had been advised to approach her local police station. She leaned forward slightly. ‘I think I might have some information that could be worth following up.’

  Nick was staring at her as though the potential significance of this interview was just hitting home. He positioned his pen over the paper. ‘Fire away.’

  ‘It’s not anything specific. More of a suspicion.’

  ‘That’s cool. Go ahead.’

  ‘One of our class members was a bit odd.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘He seemed more of a nuisance than anything at the time. Over-confident. He thought he was an expert on things he didn’t know much about. He didn’t like following instructions. In fact, someone was almost killed because of his inclination to do things off his own bat.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘My…um…boyfriend was the other medic on my squad. Kyle got himself into trouble and Ross had an accident, trying to help him. He broke his spine in four places. He’s still in hospital.’

  ‘I read about him. The doctor who’s going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, right? Is he your boyfriend?’

  Wendy had the distinct impression she was getting nowhere fast. ‘Kyle is very interested in the internet. You can get directions for making bombs if you know the right places to look, can’t you?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s all that easy.’

  ‘We had a class reunion two days before that bombing in Dunedin. We were talking about the Westgate incident and how unlikely it was for something like that to ever happen again. And Kyle said something I’ve only just remembered.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘That they’re not going to find out who planted the bomb at Westgate because the video surveillance gear was destroyed and, anyway, how could they trace someone who could have left a bomb programmed to go off days later?’

  Nick was still listening. Waiting for more.

  ‘How would he know that? Was a bomb programmed to go off after a long delay?’

  ‘I don’t know much about it, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Then there’s the arson incidents.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Kyle is a volunteer firefighter. They’ve had a series of arson incidents in his area. I think you should find out when they started happening. It might be after Kyle joined up. We’ve had two bombing incidents recently. The only two we’ve ever had in this country. It seems rather a coincidence that they happened as soon as Kyle joined a USAR team.’

  ‘How many people were in your class?’

  ‘About twenty.’

  ‘And are you the only USAR-trained personnel in the country?’

  ‘No, but…’ Wendy sighed. ‘I just have this strange feeling about Kyle. He’s…weird.’

  ‘Does anyone else share your suspicions?’

  ‘Not really,’ Wendy had to confess. ‘My friends think he’s just had a crush on me but it’s more than that. I’ve had other things happen. Like flowers turning up at work with no cards.’

  ‘From Kyle?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Wendy admitted. ‘But there’s been phone calls as well, with the caller hanging up as soon as I’ve answered. Someone broke into my flat. And Kyle visited Ross once and then hung around so he could ask me out on a date.’

  Nick’s eyebrow rose as he grinned. ‘Can’t say I blame him for that one.’

  ‘Look.’ Wendy was fed up. ‘The Dunedin CID asked me to come in if I had any information I thought might help. I think there might be a link here. Maybe I’m being paranoid but I don’t appreciate being treated as though I’m out to cast suspicion on a guy just because I don’t fancy going out with him.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Nick was now scribbling on the paper. ‘What’s the guy’s full name?’

  ‘Kyle Dickson.’

  ‘And where does he live?’

  ‘I’m not sure. A small town close to Dunedin. It could be Aramoana.’

  ‘Really?’ Nick whistled silently but Wendy was not going to let him get distracted by the township’s tragic history of a mass murder that had taken place years ago.

  ‘The USAR training centre will have details. You could contact Dave Stewart. Or Tony Calder.’

  ‘And where can we find you if we want to talk to you again?’

  Wendy gave him her address and phone number. Then she stood up. ‘I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for work.’

  Nick stood up hurriedly and held out his hand. ‘Thanks for coming in, Wendy. I’ll see that someone follows this up and we’ll let you know.’

  The handshake went on just a little too long to be professional. Wendy pulled her hand clear with a tiny jerk. ‘Thanks. I’d appreciate that.’ She couldn’t help a slightly dubious tone. She doubted whether she would be taken seriously, especially by a constable who looked little older than Kyle himself and who appeared to be far more interested in hearing her talk than listening to what she was saying.

  Nick was still looking eager as she left the interview room. ‘I’ll get onto it straight away,’ he assured her. ‘I might ring my uncle as well. He’s involved with CID in Dunedin.’

  ‘Cool.’ Wendy was through the door now. ‘Will you let me know what you find out?’

  ‘Absolutely. You’ll be hearing from me within a few days, I expect.’

  Somehow that didn’t surprise Wendy. She would just have to hope that the call would be on police rather than personal business.

  It was late Wednesday afternoon before Wendy answered her phone to find the young detective on the line.

  ‘They’re taking it all seriously enough,’ he told her, ‘but there’s nothing to report yet, I’m afraid. They’re planning to question Kyle but nobody’s been able to track him down and the guy in charge down there doesn’t seem to think the evidence is strong enough to issue any warrants.’

  ‘Have they found where he lives?’

  ‘Yeah. Nobody’s seen him for a couple of weeks and the house is deserted.’

  ‘Can’t you search it?’

  ‘Not without a good reason.’

  ‘If you had a look at his computer I’ll bet you’d find something. He used to bring in whole folders of stuff he’d downloaded.’

  ‘What kind of stuff?’

  ‘He seemed particularly proud of everything he’d found on the Oklahoma bombing. He had pictures and newspaper reports. It was almost a scrapbook.’

  ‘Really?’ Nick sounded pleased. ‘That could make a difference. I’ll pass it on.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘How are things otherwise? Any more flowers or phone calls?’

  ‘No, thank goodness.’

  ‘Are you working tonight?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Would you…? I mean, are you doing anything special?’

  ‘I am, actually.’ Wendy tried not to sound relieved. ‘My…ah…Ross moved into an independent unit at the hospital today. Some friends and I are going to surprise him with a kind of house-warming party tonight.’

  ‘Sounds fun.’

  ‘Should be. It’s an exciting step for Ross. He’ll be able to go home soon.’

  ‘Still in a wheelchair?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is he ever going to walk again?’

  ‘We’re hoping so.’ The ambiguity was enough to let Nick think that she and Ross were still a couple.

  ‘I hope so, too. He’s a lucky guy, anyway.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Wendy found herself smiling. ‘I’d better go, Nick. It won’t be such a nice surprise if I’m late.’

  Jessica and Ricky had brought balloons. Joe had a six-pack of beer to match the one Fletch was carrying. Wendy had wine and chocolate cake and Kelly had collected their communal order from the pizza parlour. They made a sizable party inside the tiny unit and had to sit on the bed as well as the couch by the window. Ricky was fascinated by the extra fittings.

  ‘What’s that for?’

&
nbsp; ‘It’s a hand rail.’ Jessica slid the bathroom door shut. ‘To help people that can’t walk as well as you can.’

  ‘Here’s another one.’ Ricky tried to swing on the wall rail beside the bed.

  ‘Where are your cars, buddy?’ Joe reached for a shoebox tucked beneath the coffee-table. ‘Look, there’s room to make a race track at the end of the bed.’

  ‘So, you’re on, then?’ Fletch popped the tab on a beer can and leaned back on the couch. Ross was positioned in his wheelchair between the couch and the bed, which was the only space left for him with all the visitors crowding the area.

  ‘Why not?’ Ross raised his own can in a salute. ‘I’m supposed to be testing my independence here. What better way than escaping for a stag night with my two best mates?’

  ‘Well, we’ll just have to have a hens’ night, then.’ Jessica was watching her son unpack his supply of tiny toy cars. He arranged them with practised precision along the edge of the bed’s valance. ‘We might have two, in fact, instead of being cheap and combining them like you and Joe.’

  ‘You’ll have to pick a different night if you want a babysitter,’ Joe retaliated with good humour. ‘We’ve got Friday.’

  ‘I’m working on Friday night, anyway.’ Wendy sipped her wine. ‘I don’t finish till 11. Hey, that’s a cool car, Ricky. What’s it got on the sides? Flames?’

  Ricky eyed her suspiciously before his gaze slid towards Joe who winked reassuringly. Ricky smiled.

  ‘Joe’s car,’ he informed Wendy.

  ‘My wedding car.’ Jessica grinned. ‘Only the real thing is a bit bigger.’

  Kelly laughed. ‘Are you going to have flames embroidered up the sides of your dress to match?’

  ‘No way.’ Jessica caught Joe’s gaze and held it. ‘I’m doing the whole traditional bit. White dress, church, confetti and lots of photos. I want to remember it for ever. It’s not something I’m intending to do more than once.’

  ‘You’d better not be.’ The growl in Joe’s tone was no match for his loving expression.

  Wendy had to look away. Ricky had taken the model Mustang and was driving it carefully along the rail that ran between the sliding doors of the tiny bathroom and kitchen.