by Mark Arundel
How, though; how was I going to keep her alive? She needed medical treatment. She needed a doctor and a hospital. Going to a hospital was out of the question; and then I remembered Frank Taylor from Catford and his neighbour Jennifer Smithson, the lovely girl from Cambridge. If only I could remember the number. I concentrated, and then concentrated harder and then it came to me. She was in number 8.
I got back into the driver’s seat and grabbed my rucksack. I found my K106 and switched it on. The screen lit up. I punched the buttons and found the address. I instructed the satellite navigation to guide us there and chose voice enabled. I passed it over to Geoffrey and said, ‘Hold this.’
He took it and asked, ‘Where are we going?’
I said, ‘To see Doctor Smithson.’
I raced the police car away with the wheels spinning and heard Geoffrey ask, ‘Who’s Doctor Smithson?’
‘I’ll explain later. Just make sure we get there and quickly.’ I tapped the screen. ‘Make sure I’m going the right way.’
It wasn’t far. We had to drive away from the coastline, up the hill and then south before returning to the ocean’s edge and the complex with the white duplex apartments. At that hour, the roads were deserted and it only took us a few minutes. I drove right up to the locked gate. I didn’t have any time to waste, so I drove the front left wing of the police car against the gate and pushed until it broke. It flung open and I drove in, switched off the lights and parked out of sight.
I said, ‘Geoffrey, grab my rucksack, the rifle, the other rucksack and follow me.’ I went to the back seat and carefully lifted Xing out. Her condition hadn’t changed. I carried her across the garden, along the path and went quickly to apartment number 8. Geoffrey was beside me. I said to him, ‘Ring the bell.’ He did it. Nobody came. ‘Ring it again. Hold it down.’
About a minute later, the door opened. A woman in her early thirties looked through the gap. Her face was free of make-up and her hair was messy. She rubbed one sleepy eye and then the other. She blinked several times and then said, ‘Yes, what is it?’ She looked like someone with experience of waking in the early hours.
I said, ‘Are you Doctor Jennifer Smithson?’
She nodded, ‘Yes. Who are…?’
I pushed past her while she was still in mid-sentence and went through into the living room. She turned and followed. I said, ‘I need your help. This woman has a gunshot wound.’ I carefully put Xing down on the long sofa.
Doctor Smithson’s head cleared immediately and she looked both surprised and confused at the same time. I could see a dozen questions running through her head. Before she could ask the first I said, ‘I’ll explain later. Please, Doctor, examine her now. It’s important we keep her alive.’
She held her tongue. Then she went and switched on the lights. She then turned on a lamp and held it up. It was then I noticed she was wearing a t-shirt, knickers and nothing else. She said, ‘Hold this over her.’ I held it while she lifted Xing’s black top and found the entry wound. She prodded with her fingers and then she lifted Xing’s eyelids and stared into her unseeing eyes. While taking her pulse she said, ‘She needs to go to the hospital. I’ll call for assistance and get an ambulance.’
‘No. We can’t do that.’
‘Then she’ll die. She needs hospital treatment and an operation to remove the bullet.’
‘You’ll have to do it. Do you have all the things you’ll need?’
‘I can’t do it.’
‘You have to. Do your best and try to save her. If she dies, I promise, there’ll be no come back on you.’
Doctor Jennifer Smithson had stopped talking. She was staring at me. I said, ‘I can’t tell you everything.’
‘What can you tell me?’
‘I work for the British government. This man,’ I pointed at Geoffrey, ‘is very important to national security and I’m here to protect him. There are enemies who want him dead. This woman,’ I pointed at Xing, ‘has important information that will help us. We need to keep her alive so she can tell us what it is. Now, do you have all the things you’ll need?’
Doctor Smithson continued to stare at me. She was making a decision. She looked at Geoffrey and the rifle he was holding. She turned back to me and said, ‘This place belongs to my parents. My father is a surgeon in Cambridge. He keeps a full medical kit here just in case. That’s what he says. I’ve always teased him about it telling him we would never need it.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll fetch it.’
A short time later with Xing sedated, lying on the dining room table, connected to a drip Doctor Smithson pulled the bullet from her side with a pair of forceps. I watched the whole procedure with interest. Jennifer Smithson was nervous at the beginning but she did a good job. I was hopeful Xing would make a full recovery.
Doctor Smithson began stitching her up. I said, ‘How long will she remain unconscious?’
She answered without stopping her work. ‘Around about thirty minutes longer unless I give her something else.’
‘Don’t. I need her awake and able to move.’
She turned and looked at me. ‘She needs to rest for at least forty-eight hours.’
‘Will moving kill her?’
The doctor didn’t answer. She returned to her stitching. I watched. I did not think it was any better than mine was.
Geoffrey was sitting on the sofa. I expected to see him asleep, but instead he had surrounded himself with paper from his satchel. He was deep in thought, which was interspersed by occasional manic scribbling.
Doctor Smithson finished the stitching. She applied a dressing and then took Xing’s blood pressure, temperature and pulse. Seemingly satisfied with her patient she left the room.
I stood beside the kung fu assassin while I planned my next move. My eyes went to her face and my concentration faded. I stepped closer and felt her skin. It was soft and cool. Although a part of me felt good that she was going to live, I also knew how dangerous she was and how careful I was going to have to be with her.
I went outside to the police car. It was still over an hour before first light. I searched in the glove box and found what I wanted. Back inside Jennifer had now become the perfect hostess and appeared with a tray of coffee and croissants. She said, ‘I’m pretty sure she’s going to be okay. The bullet hadn’t gone too deep and it came out clean. All her vitals are strong and with rest, she should make a fast recovery. Just wait until I tell my father… Hey, what are you doing?’ I was putting the police handcuffs on Xing. ‘You don’t need those. When she wakes up she’ll be as weak as a kitten.’
Was that a medical term? She didn’t know Xing as I did.
The coffee and croissants smelt so good even Geoffrey put his pen down and joined in.
Before I could get the first bite of warm croissant, my K106 rang. The sound of “Rule, Britannia!” filled the room. It was Charlotte. She said, ‘You’ve switched your K106 on.’
‘You said it was safe.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she said. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Yes. It was just a police car; I needed both hands for driving.’
‘How’s Geoffrey? Is he still safe?’
‘He’s eating breakfast.’
‘Good. Mr. Bartholomew Meriwether is with me. He would like to speak to you.’
Before I could reply a man’s voice said, ‘Ah, excellent, you’re there, good man. Sorry, we haven’t spoken sooner only we’ve been a bit busy here. I expect C. has told you. She says you are doing a first rate job over there, stout fellow. Anyway, you’ll be pleased to hear we’ve come up with a plan, so we’ll soon have you home. Sorry, I can’t talk more now but I must dash. I’ll let C. fill you in on the details. Keep up the good work.’
Before I could say anything, he was gone and Charlotte was back on the line. She said, ‘Despite what Mr. Meriwether says we haven’t quite finalised the plan yet. When we do, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, I’m going to be working on your accommodation problem. You just have to keep Geoffr
ey safe. Can you do that?’
‘Sure, that’s easy.’ There was a pause. She didn’t say it. Then I said, ‘Did my tip about someone giving the instructions to the police here to look for us help?’
I don’t know yet,’ she said.
‘Well, I’ve got another tip for you. Hold on. Geoffrey, pass me Xing’s phone.’
Charlotte heard and said, ‘How did you get Xing’s phone?’
I ignored her and said, ‘The history shows five calls received from the same central London number in the last twenty-four hours.’
Geoffrey handed me Xing’s phone and I read out the number to Charlotte. ‘If you can trace the number it might help with uncovering the traitor.’
‘How did you get Xing’s phone?’
‘She wanted to show me the photos she had taken on her last holiday in Tibet and I managed to sneak a look at her call history.’
‘Oh, really, listen...’ I ended the call before she could ask me again, and then I returned to my croissant.
Jennifer casually asked, ‘Who was that?’
I smiled and replied, ‘nobody, just my ex-wife; I’m a bad ex-husband.’
Her expression made it clear she didn’t believe me. She frowned and said, ‘I don’t understand how you could know I was here and that I’m a Doctor?’
I said, ‘Frank told me.’
‘Frank Taylor?’ I nodded. ‘How do you know Frank Taylor?’
‘I met him yesterday. I’m thinking about buying one of these apartments.’ I hoped that would be enough to stop the questions. It wasn’t.
Jennifer asked, ‘What’s your name?’
‘You don’t need to know my name.’
Jennifer pointed at Xing and asked, ‘Who shot that woman?’
I said, ‘I did.’ I frowned at her and said, ‘And now that’s enough questions.’ I added, ‘We’re going to have to move soon. Why isn’t she conscious yet?’
Jennifer went to Xing and took her pulse. She said, ‘She will be soon; but as I said, you can’t move her; not for at least twenty-four hours.’
I finished my coffee and said to Geoffrey, ‘Get your things together; we’re leaving the minute she wakes up.’
Just then, Xing stirred and opened her eyes. She tried to sit up but failed and softly cried out in pain—weak as a kitten.
Jennifer said to her, ‘I’m Doctor Jennifer Smithson. You’re in my apartment. You’ve sustained a bullet wound to your lower abdomen. I’ve removed the bullet and stitched the wound. You’re going to be fine.’
Xing’s eyes studied Jennifer’s face while she listened.
Jennifer said, ‘I’m going to give you something for the pain and then you must rest.’
Xing felt the handcuffs and made them rattle. I walked over beside Jennifer who said, ‘This man brought you here to me. He put those handcuffs on you.’
Xing’s eyes moved to me and I saw surprise and then confusion. Her mouth was obviously dry but she managed to say, ‘You saved me, why?’
I said, ‘Don’t get your hopes up. I need to know the name of your mystery caller from central London.’
Xing’s brow creased and then she smiled at me, and then she closed her eyes.
Jennifer turned to me and said, ‘We must let her sleep.’
I ignored her and said, ‘Do you have a car?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘I caught the bus from the airport. I don’t need a car when I’m here. I walk everywhere.’
That was bad news. It meant having to use the police car again which was risky. Now I definitely had to move before first light.
Geoffrey finished packing his papers away in his satchel.
I said, ‘We’re leaving.’
‘You can’t; not with her.’
‘Give her the painkilling injection.’
‘No. Not until you promise to leave her to rest.’
I gave my answer by pulling out Xing’s drip from her arm. The pain caused her to wake again, but this time, she didn’t cry out.
‘What are you doing?’ Doctor Jennifer Smithson was angry with me. Her concern for Xing was obvious.
I considered spending the day in her apartment but decided it was too difficult to defend should someone attack. My only consideration was Geoffrey’s protection and I knew my plan for the day was our best option. I decided to remain cool with Jennifer and persuade her through sound argument and reason. After all, she had helped me. I moved my face close to hers and shouted, ‘Give her the jab, now.’
Unfortunately, they obviously make female Doctors out of stronger stuff than I had anticipated because she shouted back, ‘No way, buster.’ I thought buster was a bit strong.
There was no point in arguing with her. She had finished doing what I wanted her to do. If she didn’t want to help her patient with a painkilling injection then that was her decision.
I said to Geoffrey ‘Let’s go.’ I bent down and picked up Xing carefully in my arms. ‘Bring the rucksacks and the rifle.’ I turned for the door.
Doctor Jennifer Smithson shouted, ‘Wait,’ and then in a quieter voice said, ‘I’ll give her the injection and then I’m coming with you.’
‘No, no way. You’re not coming with us.’
‘She might develop a secondary condition. If I’m not there to administer the necessary treatment she could still die; before she tells you what you need to know.’
It was my turn to stare and make a decision. Having a doctor with us was useful if Geoffrey should need medical treatment. It could make the difference between his life and death. However, if she came with her own life might be in danger, which given our position it was a very real concern. I said to her, ‘It’s dangerous. There are people after us and they want us dead.’
Her features hardened and she replied, ‘I still want to come.’
‘Why?’ I said.
‘I want to care for my patient and because I want to help you.’
Five minutes later, after Xing had had her injection and Doctor Smithson had put together her medical bag and what appeared to be a day bag we left the apartment and walked through the garden together.
‘Is this police car yours?’ she asked.
‘No,’ I said. ‘We have it on approval. Please, just get in and no more questions for a while.’
Doctor Jennifer Smithson smiled at me. I think she was enjoying herself. I wondered how long her fun was going to last.
Chapter 19
After the opening lead, the most important technique for defenders is signalling valuable information.
The good Doctor Smithson sat on the back seat with Xing’s head resting on a cushion on her lap. Xing was asleep. ‘Where are we going?' the doctor asked.
‘…for a nice day out. Now, no more questions,’ I said speaking over my shoulder.
I took the rifle from Geoffrey. It was the first time I had had a proper look at it. I saw the shiny mark low on the barrel where my bullet had hit. The rifle was bespoke, purpose made and it took me a minute to dismantle it. I broke it down into its separate parts and stowed it away in my rucksack. I might have need of it later.
The problem with driving to the location I had chosen in the police car was the danger that someone might spot us. It was likely that by now the two local police officers had raised the alarm. What colleagues there were on duty at such an early hour would be looking for the missing car and the two desperados who, as the Americans might say, played hardball. It was still dark but as I had found out earlier that didn’t necessarily help. At least it wasn’t far. I studied my K106 and got the route clear in my mind.
I said to Jennifer, ‘I’m going to need her awake in about ten minutes.’
She replied, ‘I can do that.’
I switched on the engine, turned on the lights, drove out through the gate and very nearly collided with a police car driving past on the narrow lane. The high walls and sloping turn had hidden the dipped headlights. I had to brake and the police car swerved. We only just missed each other. I swore. It was unbeliev
able bad luck. I raced away, switched off my lights and checked my mirror. The police car was turning around. We had a good head start on them. All I needed to do was get out of sight and then keep out of sight.
Geoffrey said, ‘Oh, no, not again.’
Jennifer said, ‘Why are we running from the police; aren’t they on our side?’
I was too busy driving like a Swedish rally driver on the first snowfall of winter to answer.
Geoffrey answered instead. ‘The local police don’t know what’s going on; that’s why we have to avoid being apprehended.’
This could only lead to more questions.
‘What is going on?’ Doctor Jennifer asked.
I knew it. Before this could turn into a game of twenty questions I said, ‘Geoffrey, I need some help. Make sure I’m going the right way.’ I tapped the K106 for emphasis. I had successfully lost the police car and hadn’t seen another road user since. I kept my lights off but slowed the car to a safer speed.
Geoffrey said, ‘The access road to the marina is left here.’
I turned onto it and headed downhill into the village. I was still working on our logistics problem. I had to get us out of the car, hide it and then find somewhere to wait until Alicia showed up. A tinge of the creamy pink sky had appeared in the east like a struck match in cupped hands. I had to make up my mind and fast.
I said to Jennifer, ‘In about two minutes she needs to be awake and walking.’ I had decided to hide the car on an access only residential road beyond the marina and then to walk back. The police were looking for two men and not two men with two women. It was thin, I admit, but without the police car, we were just two tourist couples out for an early morning stroll.
I turned right onto Calle Las Adelfas and drove almost to the end. The road narrowed and I parked between two cars beneath a high wall. I got tight to improve the concealment and said, ‘Last stop; everybody out.’