The Health of Strangers

by Lesley Kelly

  Strange. Why was Carrie writing to him?

  He slumped back on the sofa, and within seconds he was asleep.

  The tunnel was lit by a single overhead strip light. Mona felt quite disorientated when she stepped into the throng of bodies, after her solitary walk through the dark. She’d guesstimate there were about a hundred young people taking part, tightly packed together, swaying in time to inaudible music. Judging by the co-ordinated movement of the crowd Maitland was probably right – they all appeared to be listening to the same playlist. And Maitland was definitely right about something else: she did look older than all of them. She was, however, pleased to see a range of sensible footwear; she’d be sure to cast that up to her colleague.

  She edged her way along the side of the crowd, moving slowly up the tunnel. She tried to move in unison with the other dancers, which wasn’t too difficult, given the limited room. When she reached the far side of the tunnel she stopped, and looked back at the scene. It was a bizarre sight. She’d been to raves before – not many, it was not her thing – and the word conjured up a riot of day-glo colours on a black canvas in her mind. But watching a sea of people dance, without music, under the harsh lighting made her want to burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all.

  Someone bumped into Mona, nearly knocking her off her feet. She turned to see a young man, who held up his hands in the universal sign of ‘sorry, mate.’ She gave him a thumbs up and in return he shot her a cheery grin, and vanished into the crowd.

  There were several girls dancing in front of her wearing only vest tops and jeans. Surely they were cold? She shivered. What was the attraction of dancing in a tunnel in the middle of the night? Even as a teenager she hadn’t seen the appeal of nightclubs – all the queuing and jostling, and drunks. You’d have to pay her to do that now, and tonight, someone was. A girl with pigtails danced past her, wearing a brightly coloured mask over her mouth. Otherwise, the dancers seemed to be ignoring any kind of Virus protection. It must be great to be twenty and think you are immortal. She hoped that none of them suffered any consequences from their night out.

  There didn’t seem to be much in the way of drinking going on here, except for water. She scanned the crowd to see if anyone was dealing, and sure enough, spotted a guy making his way methodically round the throng. He was tall, around the same height as Maitland, maybe even more. Despite the darkness outside the tunnel, he was wearing sunglasses and a jester’s hat.

  She swayed gently through the dancers in the direction of the dealer. She ended up face-to-face with the man who had bumped into her earlier; he smiled and tried to grab her round the waist. She laughed and politely manoeuvred away from him, and kept going until she was behind the tall guy.

  When he turned to face her she grinned, and kept eye contact with his glasses. There was something familiar about him; it wouldn’t have surprised her if she’d come across him in her previous life in CID. Enterprising sellers of drugs had moved quickly into the Virus market.

  The dealer wasn’t returning her smile. She looked encouragingly down at his pocket, but he just shook his head slightly and walked off. Did he recognise her as Police? Or did he just like to know all his customers personally? In a crowd of a hundred people it was likely that he did know most of his customers, or at least recognise their faces. He had disappeared into the crowd.

  Mona checked her watch. Time was marching on, so she decided on one last trip around the crowd, then to head back to Maitland. As she turned to leave she caught sight of someone in the crowd who looked familiar. A small, spiky-haired woman was swaying along with a couple of other dancers. One of the ravers she was with leaned over to the woman and pulled out one of her earphones to talk to her. She threw her head back, laughing at her friend’s joke. As her head came back up she looked round the crowd, and stopped dead when she caught sight of Mona. Mona slowly mouthed her name, ‘Amanda’.

  She stood where she was, waiting to see what Amanda’s reaction would be. The object of her attention looked distinctly uncomfortable, and made no attempt to make eye contact. She turned and moved off, away from Mona. Mona tried in vain to push through the crowd. One of the dancers objected to being pushed past and shoved her. She toppled backwards, starting a domino effect that resulted in someone sending three people over banging their heads off the tunnel wall. By the time she’d checked they weren’t hurt, and had made her apologies, her target had vanished. She grunted with annoyance. Why was Amanda here? She’d made it clear she didn’t socialise with Heidi, and yet, here she was at a party that Heidi was invited to. Was it a coincidence? Or was Amanda looking for her flatmate?

  Mona quit the tunnel and started walking back along the silent path, trying to see if Amanda had headed in this direction. Within minutes she was aware of a noise behind her. Was it footsteps? It could just as easily be wildlife in the undergrowth. She spun round to face her pursuer, feet apart, poised to defend herself. The path was deserted. Was something, or someone, in the bushes? It was impossible to tell. She stepped up her pace, wishing that she’d brought something to defend herself with. She was fairly sure that the sounds were also speeding up. Mona decided to stop and brazen it out.

  She turned back to face the tunnel. In the darkness it was difficult to tell if anyone was there or not. She waited a couple of seconds for someone to show themselves, peering into the gloom. If anyone was there, they weren’t rushing to make their presence known. She pivoted slowly round, and continued on her way. After a couple of steps, a figure detached itself from the undergrowth and grabbed her.

  ‘Hello, sweetie.’

  She pushed Maitland off, and looked round. There was no-one there.

  ‘Did you know someone was following you?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘He ducked back into the bushes when I stepped out.’ Maitland walked into the middle of the pathway and looked both ways. ‘You OK?’

  Mona suddenly felt very tired. ‘Let’s go.’

  Ferry Road remained as quiet as when they’d arrived.

  ‘So, what did you find out?’

  ‘Not much.’ Mona let out a long sigh of annoyance. ‘There were about a hundred kids there, all bobbing about in bloody unison. There was at least one guy selling drugs.’

  ‘Recognise him?’

  They turned down the cut-through, this time walking side by side. ‘Hard to tell. He was tall, but wearing a hat and glasses.’

  ‘The guy following you was tall.’

  ‘Makes sense. I think I spooked him.’

  They walked in silence for a couple of minutes.

  ‘There’s one other thing. Heidi’s flatmate was there.’

  ‘Guess she’ll be getting a visit tomorrow?’

  ‘Yup.’ Mona yawned. ‘Suppose we’d better head home then.’

  ‘Don’t you want to hear what I found out?’

  She looked at him in surprise. ‘What?’

  ‘Quarter of an hour after you’d gone I bumped into a very nice, very drunk young lady weaving her way toward the party. She asks me for a light, and I oblige, then she asks if I’m going to the Railway Tavern. I say no, ’cause I’ve just had a big fight with my girlfriend, and she says she’s just fallen out with her bloke, so one thing leads to another . . .’

  ‘You dirty bastard.’

  ‘Calm down, I just offered her a shoulder to cry on. Anyhow, we started chatting about the good times to be had at the Railway Tavern, and she’s saying what a great bloke “Big K” is, and how she would never have heard of Loopy and H if it wasn’t for him, and what a godsend it was to know that there was something that actually worked against the Virus, ’cause you know how the Government never tell you anything.’ He broke off laughing.

  ‘Big K?’

  ‘Could be a very tall drug dealer?’

  ‘Or a man called Kevin?’

  ‘Or both?’

  THURSDAY

  THE HEALTH OF STRANGERS

  1

  Bernard was bent over the bathro
om sink, his head resting against the porcelain, when he heard the metallic sound of his phone’s ringtone for the second time in ten minutes. He tried to stand up but was poleaxed by a wave of sickness. By the time he managed to control his stomach, the ringing had stopped. He ran the taps, desperately trying not to look at the contents of his stomach lying in the basin, then walked slowly into the living room. By the time the phone rang for the third time, he was ready.

  ‘Hi, Mona.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  Mona’s voice rattled with impatience. He went for sympathy. ‘I’m not feeling too . . .’

  ‘Good. Yes, I can imagine. Some advice, Bernard, don’t go drinking with the Guv.’

  Bernard’s jaw dropped. He’d hardly been a willing participant.

  ‘Anyway, grab a shower and a coffee, and get yourself over here in a taxi.’

  She rang off before he could protest, and he implemented her plan. By the time he pulled on his shoes, he was actually beginning to feel human again, and with a degree of caution he got to his feet. As he did so he caught sight of the envelope with his name on it. Immediately the nausea he’d been fighting came back, as did the memory of the previous night. He snatched the letter and his coat. Trying not to breathe, he locked the flat door behind him, the missive tucked in his inside pocket, unread, waiting for him to get the nerve to open it and find out if his marriage was over.

  ‘You’re not going to be sick, are you?’

  Mona was looking at him as if he was a very bad smell that had invaded the comfort of her Ford Focus.

  ‘Why does everyone think I’m always about to vomit?’ Bernard turned and stared out of the window at the flowerbeds of Pollock Halls. He’d have made a more spirited retort if it weren’t for the fact that he was still feeling seriously nauseous. Mona turned on the radio, and the sound of Professor Bircham-Fowler filled the car.

  ‘The unpopularity of the health services in general, and most notably the Health Enforcement Team is greatly hindering the fight against the Virus . . .’

  Mona snorted. ‘It’s hardly our fault that people are too stupid to know what’s good for them.’

  ‘People are dying needlessly from bacterial pneumonia due to the lack of trust in the antibiotics being prescribed.’

  The interviewer broke in. ‘Though you can’t blame people for being concerned, I mean the vaccine trial deaths raised a lot of questions . . .’

  Mona swore and turned the knob to off.

  ‘I suppose the vaccine fiasco is our fault as well.’

  Bernard watched a row of ferns swaying gently in the breeze, wondering if his day was going to get any better. He burped silently and tried to focus on the case. ‘So, do we know what this Kevin guy looks like?’

  Mona reached into her pocket and unfolded a printout of Kevin’s health record, including an over-pixelated photograph. The two of them stared at the page.

  ‘Not the best photo in the world,’ said Bernard. ‘Did the guy you saw last night look like that?’

  Mona looked at the picture. ‘Maybe, but under a jester’s hat and sunglasses it was hard to say. We’ll have to chat to the nurse.’ She turned off the car radio. ‘Come on, sunshine. Time to go.’

  Bernard groaned and opened the car door.

  The Health Enforcement Clinic was set up in a common room on the ground floor. The blinds were closed to give some degree of privacy, and Bernard winced at the sharp neon light coming from overhead. The nurse was middle-aged, and sported a short no-nonsense haircut. She regarded Mona’s ID card with confusion.

  ‘I’m not sure what you’re doing here – I thought you only investigated people that didn’t show up for their Health Check?’

  ‘That’s usually the case.’ Mona snapped her ID shut and put it back into her pocket. ‘But we’ve reason to believe that one of the students due here today is responsible for the non-appearance of another student at her Health Check.’

  The nurse was looking more confused by the minute. Bernard couldn’t blame her. She scanned her records. ‘Who are you looking for?’

  ‘Kevin Calman.’ Mona offered her the printout. ‘Do you recognise him?’

  She squinted at it. ‘Yes. But he’s such a lovely lad. Very polite.’

  ‘Has he said anything to you about his view of the Virus?’ asked Bernard.

  The nurse started unpacking the contents of her bag. ‘Well, he’s got some daft ideas on that, but to be honest all the students here have some silly theory or other.’ Her face clouded. ‘He’s not in any trouble, is he?’

  Before he could say anything Mona jumped in. ‘No, no. Just give us a shout when he comes in.’ She grabbed Bernard’s sleeve and pulled him toward a chair. He sat staring at his watch, as the minute hand edged round.

  At 8.45am prompt the door flew open, and in rushed a girl with wet hair.

  ‘Sorry, Maggie, I slept in.’

  ‘No worries, love, my 8.45 is running late as well.’ The nurse raised her eyebrows at Bernard and Mona. ‘Can you wait outside for a minute or two?’

  They got reluctantly to their feet and filed back into the hallway. Bernard leaned his head against the cool corridor window.

  ‘He’s not going to show.’ Mona sounded almost cheerful at the prospect. ‘Looks like this Calman guy could be our man. We should . . .’

  He didn’t get to hear his partner’s suggestion as she was interrupted by a ringing sound from her inside pocket. She delved into her jacket and retrieved her phone.

  ‘Hello?’

  Bernard stepped back from the window, and wiped the condensation from the glass off his brow. He glanced over at Mona, and was surprised to see how concerned she looked. She noticed his interest, turned her back on him and took a few steps down the corridor.

  ‘I’ll be right there.’ Mona snapped her phone shut.

  ‘Who was that?’

  ‘Amanda – sounding upset. I’m going to head on over there. Can you hang on here for a while, Bernard, just to make sure Kevin doesn’t show?’

  ‘But what if he does turn up?’ His stomach lurched, and he felt a bubble of acid at the back of his throat. He wasn’t sure he could cope with a face-off with their suspect at the best of times, let alone in his current state.

  Mona checked her watch. ‘He won’t.’

  ‘But if he does?’

  She sighed. ‘Ask him to come down to the office. I’ll meet you there.’

  The door to the common room opened and Bernard was nearly knocked over by the damp-haired girl.

  ‘Sorry!’

  Bernard looked round for Mona, but she’d gone.

  2

  ‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’

  Amanda stood in the doorway of the flat. Her left eye was swollen and yellowing. She had a matching set of bruises around her right wrist.

  Mona looked her up and down as she stepped into the flat. ‘You’ve been in the wars. What happened?’

  Amanda closed the door.

  Something felt different about the flat; it took Mona a second or two to realise that the former gloom of the hallway had been replaced by a neon glow. She looked up at the ceiling where the light bulb was burning brightly. Mona wasn’t surprised at the sudden upgrading in the illumination. If she’d taken the beating that Amanda had, she’d be scared of dark corners too.

  ‘I saw you last night. I notice you didn’t come over to say hello.’

  A tear escaped down Amanda’s cheek, and she wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. ‘Sorry, things are just getting so . . .when I saw you I . . .’

  She looked so small and scared that Mona relented. ‘OK. Why don’t you tell me how you came by the bruises?’

  Amanda rubbed her wrist. ‘I’m so frightened.’

  ‘Who are you frightened of?’

  Amanda looked at her as if she was crazy. ‘Kevin, of course.’

  Mona tried to remember which of the doors led to the living room. She took a guess, and guided the distraught girl through to the sofa, sitt
ing down next to her. ‘Kevin did this to you?’

  ‘Yeah. He must have been at the rave last night. He followed me out of there and . . .’ She tailed off, and wiped her eyes again.

  ‘Amanda, there’s no need to be scared. Just tell me what happened.’

  ‘He just won’t leave me alone. He thinks I know where Heidi is . . .’ She pulled a cushion onto her lap, turning it round and round in her hands.

  ‘Is he still staying here?’

  She shook her head. ‘He picked up his stuff a couple of days ago. I never wanted him here, never. But he was a friend of Heidi’s, and he was going to pay a share of the rent.’

  There was a long silence. Mona was about to prompt Amanda when she continued.

  ‘It was OK at first. In fact, I really liked him at first because he was dead friendly, you know?’ She paused. ‘But I think he knew that Heidi was rich. He started talking a load of nonsense to her about drugs that could stop you catching the Virus, and this group that he was involved with . . ..’

  ‘The Children of Camus?’

  ‘Pretty stupid, huh?’

  Mona smiled. ‘Except a lot of people did believe him, didn’t they?’

  They looked at each other.

  ‘Did Heidi believe him?’

  Amanda laughed, a little mirthless sound. ‘That’s the really stupid thing. All that education and she fell for it.’ She paused. ‘We fought about it, actually. I was worried that someone was going to kill themselves, messing around with all that stuff.’

  ‘But Kevin wasn’t worried?’

  ‘No. All he could see was pound signs. He didn’t care if someone died – why should he? All the drugs were bought and paid for on Heidi’s credit card.’

  Mona tried to make sense of all this. ‘And The Children of Camus website – is that Kevin?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Amanda, where do you think Heidi is?’