The Colour of the Soul

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The Colour of the Soul Page 13

by Richard T. Burke


  The man straightened up. “You’ll be sore for a day or two, but there doesn’t appear to be any permanent damage.”

  Her mother stood on one side, clutching Annalise’s hand between her own. On the other, her father peered anxiously over the medic’s shoulder.

  The doctor consulted his notes. “You also have a contusion on your lip. I don’t think it needs any stitches. Does it hurt anywhere else?”

  “No, not that much. I’ve got a bit of a headache, though.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not really surprising in the circumstances. We just need to run one or two more tests to confirm you aren’t suffering from a concussion.” He held a finger a few inches in front of Annalise’s face. “I want you to touch my finger, then the tip of your nose, then my finger again and so on. Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

  Annalise did as instructed.

  “Okay, that’s fine. No problems there. Do you know where you are?”

  “Accident and Emergency at Steadmore hospital.”

  “Correct. What day of the week is it?”

  “It’s Saturday night.”

  “One more. Can you remember what you were doing last Sunday afternoon?”

  “Yes. I was here, in the intensive care ward.”

  The doctor glanced up sharply from his clipboard. “What were you in for?”

  “I’d just recovered from a coma.”

  The man turned over the page. His eyes scanned down the piece of paper. “Oh, that’s right. Given your recent medical history, I think it’s probably best if we keep you in overnight for observation.”

  Annalise groaned. “I’ve been stuck in this place for a year. I just want to go home.”

  “You should do what the doctors say,” Sophie said.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me. I’d rather sleep in my own bed than spend another night here.”

  “I can understand that,” the doctor said, “and there is a shortage of free beds.” He scratched his cheek. “I tell you what. You can go home provided somebody wakes you up every two hours and checks up on you. That’s what they’d do if you were in an observation ward. The first indication of any problems and I want you back immediately.”

  “What should we do when we wake her up?” Dan asked.

  “Make sure she does actually wake up and can answer basic questions.”

  “And what if she can’t?”

  “Call an ambulance or drive her here yourself, but I’m fairly certain it won’t come to that. I’ll sign the paperwork. You can leave in a minute or two. I’ll get one of the orderlies to bring you a wheelchair.”

  Annalise sat up. “Why do I need a wheelchair?”

  “You came in on a stretcher. It’s hospital policy.”

  “You just said you were going to discharge me.” She swung her feet off the trolley and slipped forwards until they touched the floor. “I don’t want a wheelchair.”

  The doctor gave an exasperated shrug. “Have it your way. Wait here until I sign you out. At least then you’re no longer my responsibility if you keel over.” He brushed aside the curtain and hurried away.

  “You shouldn’t be rude to them,” her mother said. “They’re only trying to look after you.”

  Annalise rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t being rude. I need to get out of here. It’s bonkers making me sit in a wheelchair when I’m about to walk out of the door in a few minutes.”

  Sophie flashed a glance at Dan. He stared back but said nothing. An uneasy silence developed as they waited for the doctor to return. It lasted until the medic swept into the cubicle, handing a clipboard and pen to Annalise. “Just sign here,” he said.

  From the corner of her eye, she picked up a pale blue band of colour surrounding his head. She scribbled a signature without reading the text. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. You’re free to leave.”

  The doctor stood back and gestured towards the exit. Several of the other patients looked up hopefully as the family traipsed through the busy waiting area. They were halfway to the entrance when a voice called out from the other side of the room. “Annalise, wait.”

  Mark hurried over. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

  Annalise folded her arms. “I’m fine.”

  “We’ll be outside,” her father said. Her mother hesitated for a second then followed him through the automatic door.

  “Look, I’m really sorry,” Mark said. “I would have taken you home, but you’d disappeared by the time I got downstairs. The police paid me a visit. I rushed over here as soon as they left. The woman on reception said you were being examined by a doctor. I thought I’d missed you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Annalise muttered.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “Well he did his best to strangle me, and he smacked me in the face, so yes, it was a bit painful.”

  “God, it’s all my fault. You rushed off before I could explain. Then that copper came round and questioned me for ages. I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer your phone.”

  “That’s because I didn’t want to hear your excuses, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t really want to talk to you now.”

  “Give me two minutes. If you still want nothing to do with me after that, I’ll leave you alone.”

  Annalise sighed. “Go on then, but only two minutes. My parents are waiting outside, and it’s bloody freezing out there.”

  “Well, the girl who left the hair bands, I met her through a dating website. Like I’ve said before, I had no idea if or when you would ever wake up. We only went out once. I took her for a drink at the Jolly Farmer. Chris saw us there, which is why he ... Anyway, she came back to my flat for a coffee afterwards.”

  A dimly pulsing grey disc appeared around his head at the periphery of her vision.

  “Right, a coffee. That’s a euphemism if ever I heard one.”

  “Nothing happened. I promise. She drank the coffee, and I took her home. I discovered she had left her hair bands the next morning when I was tidying up. I was going to throw them away but never got round to it.”

  “So are you planning to see her again?”

  Mark frowned and lowered his gaze. When he looked back, his eyes were moist. “No, there’s no way that’s going to happen.”

  “Let me guess—because you love me.”

  “No ... I mean yes. I do love you, but it’s not the only reason.”

  Annalise shook her head. “What? Are you telling me she didn’t like you?”

  “Well, actually, I suppose that last bit is true. She didn’t want to go out with me again. She said we were incompatible.”

  “So you couldn’t seduce her with your sophisticated charms?”

  “No. But it’s all irrelevant, anyway.”

  Annalise sighed. “And why’s that?”

  “Because she’s dead.”

  Chapter 30

  Steven sat in the driver’s seat and stared at the steering wheel. He lifted his left hand and held it before his eyes. A livid red mark identified the spot where the girl had bitten him. He peered closer and confirmed the bite hadn’t broken the skin. Even so, it would be painful for a day or two. His fingers trembled in front of the dull glow from the instruments. The adrenaline continued to surge through his system more than an hour after fleeing. He slammed his palms down on the dashboard. Damn! Why had he given in to temptation? It was all about preparation. The chance had presented itself, and in his eagerness to act he had snatched at it. Far better to take things slowly, watch and plan, think everything through carefully.

  He was thankful he had taken precautions. He had swapped the number plates before starting his surveillance, so even if the other driver noted down the details, it would be a dead end. The mask ensured nobody had seen his face, and the gloves prevented the transfer of any trace evidence such as fingerprints.

  The only thing he had let slip was that she heard his voice. He tried to think back to what he had said. At the time, he hadn’t been worried a
bout her being able to tell the police anything; she was about to die. By now, she would have told them everything. He couldn’t remember the exact words, but he was sure he had referred to her waking up. That would confirm he was aware of his victim’s identity. But how could that information help them?

  They would no doubt look for common factors, and that would eventually lead them to the person at the centre of his plan. If they dug deep enough, they might uncover some of the answers. It was all written down somewhere, but the documents would not be easy to access. Perhaps one day the truth would come to light, but by then it would be too late.

  Steven’s thoughts returned to the present. He had also told her he had every intention of finishing the job. Maybe the police would put someone outside her house. If he left it a few days, they would soon lose interest. Law enforcement budgets weren’t what they used to be, and it wouldn’t take long for the expenses to mount up. He would just have to be patient. A promise was a promise, and this was one he intended to keep.

  His breath quickened as he recalled the feeling of power that had surged through his body as he held her neck between his hands and choked the life out of her. She had put up more of a fight than the other girl. Despite that, if the taxi driver hadn’t intervened, he was certain it would still have ended the same way. The challenge would just make it all the more satisfying when he did eventually achieve his goal.

  For a moment he thought about disposing of the coat, gloves and balaclava somewhere nearby. On the one hand, if the car was stopped and searched, the unusual headgear would identify him as a prime suspect. The replacement plates would also be highly incriminating. On the other hand, if he hid the items in the woods or threw them away, it was all too likely that somebody would find them eventually. What was the likelihood of roadblocks being in place? He was sufficiently far from the scene of the crime for it to be highly improbable. Whatever the chances, it wouldn’t hurt to take additional precautions.

  Steven pulled the door handle. Stepping out, he opened the boot and lifted the carpet to uncover the area where the spare would have fitted had the vehicle been equipped with one. He removed the slab of polystyrene containing the wheel jack and placed the fake front and rear number plates side by side in the empty space. Then he laid the balaclava, gloves and coat on top and replaced the lightweight block. The hidden items raised the height, but when he folded the carpet back in position, the bump was barely noticeable. A thorough search would reveal their location, but if that happened it was probably already too late.

  Steven shivered in the biting wind and slammed the boot shut. He strode to the driver’s door and levered himself inside. Exhaling deeply, he started the engine and put the car in gear. He navigated out of the deserted car park and began his journey home.

  Chapter 31

  “He said what?” Dan asked.

  Annalise fastened the seat belt and leaned back against the headrest. “He went out with somebody on a blind date. It was all arranged through a dating website. It turns out she was the girl who was strangled the week before last.”

  Dan started the engine then twisted to face his daughter. “Do the police know about that?”

  “Yes. He told me he didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to frighten me. Oh, and he would have had to explain that he had been out with someone else.”

  Sophie knelt on the passenger seat, facing the back of the vehicle. “It’s got to be more than a coincidence. How many times did he go out with this girl?”

  “Apparently only the once. She wasn’t that keen to see him again.”

  “So when did this date take place?” Dan asked.

  “I’m not sure. He said it was four or five weeks ago. The detective asked him if he could provide an alibi for the time of the killing.”

  “And could he?”

  “No. He was at that house he’s doing up, checking what needed to be done after the fire.”

  “Is he a suspect?”

  “Who, Mark? No. Well that’s what he told me anyway. But it looks like somebody else might hold a grudge against him.”

  “Does he have any idea why?” Dan said.

  Annalise grimaced. “I can think of at least one good answer to that question. He was involved in a fatal road accident.”

  “But you were the—”

  “Yes, I was behind the wheel, but it was his car, and he allowed me to drive. Somebody might see that as a valid reason to hold him responsible.”

  “Do the police suspect it was an act of revenge?”

  “According to Mark, they’re investigating all possibilities.”

  “What about that nurse?” Sophie asked. “Could she be in on it?”

  “No,” Annalise replied. “From what I saw, she’s as mad as a box of frogs. When they arrested her, she was banging on about allowing people to die after they’d been in a coma for too long. Anyway, I imagine she’s locked up in a prison cell at the moment.”

  “So, you believe the person who attacked you tonight targeted you because of the car accident?”

  “Look, Mum, I really don’t know. When he had his hands around my throat, he said something about how I shouldn’t have woken up. That has to mean he knew about my coma.”

  “He must have been following you,” Dan said.

  Annalise shivered despite the warmth generated by the running engine. “Or maybe he was waiting at Mark’s flat.”

  “But you said the attacker told you it wasn’t over. That means he might try again.”

  Annalise remained silent.

  Dan rummaged in the pocket of his jacket. “I’m calling the police. They need to keep a watch on the house.”

  “Dad, I’m not sure.”

  Dan raised a hand in a shushing motion. “Police, please.”

  “Somebody tried to strangle my daughter tonight.”

  “... No this was earlier. We’ve just come out of A and E.”

  “... Yes, a policeman did attend. A DCI ... What was his name, Annalise?”

  “Billings,” Annalise replied from the back seat.

  Dan resumed the conversation with the call handler. “... A DCI Billings.”

  “... No, she’s not in any immediate danger. She’s sitting in the car outside the hospital with me and her mother.”

  “... But this is an emergency. My daughter was the subject of an attempted murder tonight and we’ve just discovered that the attacker is probably the same person who strangled the girl two weeks ago.”

  “... No, I don’t know that for sure, but he was wearing a balaclava and gloves, so it wasn’t some random attack. Anyway, she needs protection. He told her he’d try again.”

  “... Well you’ve got my number I assume.”

  “... Yes, that’s right. So I can expect somebody to ring me back tonight?”

  “... Okay, thanks for your help.”

  Dan tapped the button to drop the line.

  “What did they say?” Sophie asked.

  “At first she told me it wasn’t an emergency. Then she asked how I could be sure the assailant was that girl’s killer. She said she’d get someone from the police station to call us.”

  “Did she tell you when?”

  “Sometime within the next hour.”

  “But it’s already after midnight.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I doubt I’ll be getting much sleep tonight. Apart from which, we need to wake Annalise every two hours. How are you feeling by the way?”

  Annalise rubbed her throat. “It’s still a bit sore.”

  Dan fastened his seat belt. “There’s no point hanging around here. We might as well go home.”

  “What if he’s waiting there?” Sophie asked. A hand shot to her mouth. “My God, Beatrice is in the house all by herself.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Bisto will look after her. Oh shit, the dog’s at the vet.”

  “I’ll call her mobile.” Sophie snatched her own phone from her bag, unlocked the screen and selected the address book. She
exchanged a worried glance with Dan. “It’s gone to voicemail.”

  “Try again. She’s probably just asleep.”

  Sophie stabbed the green dial icon a second time. The creases on her forehead deepened as the ringing tone went unanswered. “Still no reply,” she muttered. “Oh, thank God for that. Are you alright, Beatrice?”

  Sophie listened in silence then ended the call and blew out her cheeks. “She’s fine. She was asleep and unhappy at being woken. In fact, she hung up on me. Just get us home as quickly as you can.”

  Dan put the car in gear and accelerated out of the hospital car park.

  Chapter 32

  The chime of the doorbell woke Annalise. She groaned and glanced across at the red digits of the bedside clock: ten minutes past nine. The front door rattled as it opened, followed seconds later by a thud as it closed again. Low voices rose from the hallway, then footsteps came up the stairs. The bedroom door eased open, and her father stuck his head through the gap. “There’s a policeman here. He wants to have a chat with you.”

  “What does he want to talk about,” Annalise asked, “the car crash or the attack?”

  “It’s not the same man who visited yesterday, so I assume he’s here about last night.”

  “Give me five minutes.”

  “Okay. I’ll put the kettle on.”

  Annalise rubbed her hands across her face. Her eyes felt gritty, and a headache pounded at the base of her skull. It seemed only moments ago that she had turned out the light. Being woken up every two hours hadn’t helped. Each time, she had jerked awake, her heart hammering in her chest. The anxious questions her parents asked to ascertain her health did little to reassure her. It was difficult to sleep when you couldn’t be sure you would ever wake up again. On the occasions when she did eventually succeed in sleeping, the periods of unconsciousness were punctuated by nightmares of the hooded man. During these repetitive dreams, his fingers locked around her throat, choking the life out of her body. The desperate attempts to prise them loose only ended when she awoke to find herself in a cold sweat, twisted up between the sheets.

 

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