The Dark Series

by Catherine Lee

  “What? I thought she must have gone home. What happened?”

  “Another rejection episode. Bad one this time. She’s in a coma.” Andrew didn’t miss the dirty look shot his way as Rob folded the linen regulation-style over the corner of the bed.

  “Oh God,” he said. Suddenly his priorities over recent days made no sense at all. Why hadn’t he been here with her? “How do I get to ICU?”

  Rob gave him the directions. “They won’t let you in, though. You have to be family. Or Taylor — she always manages to talk her way in.” Andrew nodded his thanks and turned in the direction of the Intensive Care Unit. “If you do get in,” Rob called after him, “tell her we’re all pulling for her.”

  * * *

  As predicted, Andrew couldn’t get past the closed doors. He sent a text message to Taylor, knowing if she was in there she’d have her phone switched on despite the rules. He paced the small hallway as he waited, and was more than a little surprised when she arrived from the same direction in which he’d just come.

  “Why aren’t you in there?” he asked, skipping the pleasantries.

  “I just got a text from Alan. This only just happened, apparently.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, I haven’t been here for days. Things were getting backed-up at the store so I needed to put some time in there. Plus, Eva and I had a fight, remember? I thought it best to keep my distance for a while.”

  “You need to get in there and find out what’s going on,” he said.

  “I know, settle down, reporter boy. Where have you been, anyway? Why don’t you know what’s going on?”

  Andrew looked to the floor, avoiding eye contact. “Amanda was released from the hospital on Sunday. I had to be there for her, or at least I thought I did.” He looked up. “That was wrong, I should have been here.”

  “Yeah, you should,” replied Taylor. She gave him a glare that said everything, before backing off. “We both should have been here.”

  There was a row of plastic chairs in the corridor. Andrew sat on one, head in hands and elbows on his knees. “Rob said she started to reject the heart again. She’s in a coma. Is there any way you can get in there and find out what’s going on?”

  Just as Taylor was about to press the intercom button, the door opened and a man walked out. From Taylor’s reaction Andrew realised this was Eva’s father, and the look on Alan Matthews’ face only served to increase Andrew’s fears.

  Alan looked as though he might collapse, and Taylor quickly took hold of his arm and guided him to a chair. Andrew was about to say something when Taylor shot him a ‘keep quiet’ look. He left her to handle it.

  “Mr M, are you okay?”

  Alan barely registered Taylor’s presence at first. He sat staring into space before he finally realised she was talking to him. Then he looked up and saw Andrew.

  “Give us a minute,” Taylor said to Andrew.

  Andrew hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do right now was make himself scarce, but he realised Taylor was more likely to get Alan to talk if he wasn’t there. He moved out of earshot and tried to calm the thoughts buzzing in his head.

  Alan started talking to Taylor, and from his body language Andrew could see the man was broken. Taylor looked in Andrew’s direction briefly, then she and Alan pushed the intercom button and were admitted to the ICU. Something strange was going on here, and all Andrew could do was pace the hallway until Taylor finally came back out. She sat down on the plastic chairs and waited for him to join her.

  “Well?”

  Taylor turned to him, her face more pale than he’d ever seen it. “Look,” she began, “some stuff went down here today, I don’t know how much I can tell you. I don’t think it’s my place.”

  “Come on, Taylor. You know how I feel about her, I know you can see it. You can’t shut me out.”

  “I can see the way the two of you look at each other, yes. Eva’s never lit up like she does when you’re around. But this is all way too personal. It’s up to Eva to tell you when she gets better.”

  “Can you at least say how she’s doing?”

  “They say she’s stable for now, but she’s hooked up to more machinery than she’s ever been. Her body is rejecting the heart, big time. She’s got a fight on her hands.” Now it was Taylor’s turn to stand and pace the hallway.

  “Hey, is there any chance I can get in to see her?” Andrew asked. “I want to let her know I’m back, and that I’m in her corner.”

  Taylor nodded. “I’ll go talk to Alan, see if we can get them to let you in for a minute. Wait here.” She pressed the intercom button and announced herself. The doors swung open and she disappeared into the busy world behind them.

  Andrew sat back down to wait. He thought of the hours he’d spent by Eva’s bedside in the past week, and the hours he hadn’t. Amanda needed help readjusting, there was no doubting that, but their marriage was over. Eva was the first person in a long while who’d made him laugh, or even smile. She was like him in a lot of ways — inquisitive, hungry for knowledge. But what he loved most about her was her strength. She had such a determination to survive, an inner strength the likes of which he hadn’t seen for a long time. And it looked like she was going to need it.

  One of the doors opened and Taylor’s head poked out. “You’ve got five minutes,” she whispered, and pointed him toward Eva’s bed. He walked quickly past the nurses’ desk, not making eye contact.

  As he got nearer the bed he saw Alan, his eyes red from crying, holding Eva’s hand. They had never actually met, their paths not crossing the week before. Andrew nodded, appreciating the chance to see Eva.

  “You must be the reporter I’ve heard all about.” Alan attempted a smile.

  “Yes, sir. Andrew Fox,” he replied, offering his hand. The older man took it in a weak grasp.

  “Taylor told you what happened, then?” He looked at his daughter. “She’s rejecting it.”

  “Taylor told me that, yes.”

  “She’s a good kid, that one. Been there for Eva every step. Like her mother and me.” Alan started to cry again. Andrew didn’t know what to do, where to look. Fortunately, he was saved by the entrance of Eva’s doctor.

  “Doctor Graham. Please, tell me she’s going to be okay,” said Alan.

  The doctor studied Eva’s chart for a moment then moved to her side. He shone a light into both her eyes then listened to her heart. He held her wrist to check her pulse, the old-fashioned way. This practice of doctors never ceased to amaze Andrew — the machine right next to him showed Eva’s heart rate and blood pressure in a large digital display. Dr Graham made some additional notes in the chart and then walked away a short distance, motioning for them to follow.

  “This is a critical time for Eva, Mr Matthews.” He kept his voice low. “As you know, she suffered an acute rejection episode this afternoon, brought on by stress. Her body has begun to shut down, a defence mechanism designed to protect her against further stress. We’ve given her medication to try and stop the rejection, but it’s up to Eva now. Your daughter is fighting for her life, Alan.”

  This news brought a fresh wave of tears. “What can I do? She’s all we have.”

  “Talk to her. Tell her that. Tell her to fight. Research shows that coma patients can sometimes be aware of their surroundings. Eva’s been through a lot, but she’s tough. She can fight this, but she needs your help. You need to pull yourself together.”

  Alan straightened his shoulders and attempted to wipe away the tears. Doctor Graham looked around the unit.

  “Where’s Mrs Matthews? Eva needs her mother, and Taylor as well. She needs all of you, but one at a time.” He looked at Andrew as he said this.

  Andrew wondered where Eva’s mother was, too. He suspected it had something to do with whatever personal situation had gone down earlier. “I think Mrs Matthews is tied up at the moment,” he offered. “I’m going to stay for a bit and talk to Eva. I can help.”

  The doct
or seemed to understand.

  “Okay. Alan, why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up a bit, and have a cup of tea. Then you can come back fresh.”

  Alan nodded. He kissed his daughter’s hand and laid it gently back down on the bed. He let Dr Graham lead him away through the double doors, and Andrew caught a glimpse of Taylor putting an arm around him. At least he was in good hands.

  * * *

  Andrew took a seat beside the bed. He held Eva’s hand, the one her father had just let go.

  “Eva? It’s me, Andrew. Andy. Listen, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I think you can. There’s so much I want to tell you. So much we need to talk about. But you need to wake up.

  “I’m angry, Eva. I’m angry with myself for leaving you. I shouldn’t have done that. This… you lying here, hooked up to even more machines… this shouldn’t have happened. I don’t know what went on here today. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I suspect you’re having trouble dealing with the heart and where it came from. You’re the one person I know strong enough to deal with this. This heart doesn’t define you anymore than the last one did. You said that, Eva, you said that yourself. Please, forget cellular memory, forget where the heart came from, and focus on where it’s going. I’m sorry I told you where your heart came from, but I’m not sorry we met. At least this heart has brought us together. Come back to me, Eva. I love you. Come back to me.”

  “Quite the speech there, reporter boy.” Taylor had come back in and was standing behind him. “You mean that?”

  “More than anything. I looked after my wife for the last few days because I thought it was the right thing to do. But the whole time, I couldn’t get Eva out of my head. She’s amazing. Yes, I mean it. I love her.”

  Taylor nodded, her lips curling into a faint smile. She approved. They both turned towards Eva and the machines regulating her breathing. They looked for a sign, the slightest movement, something to show she was still with them. They saw nothing.

  52

  Cooper led Brenda Matthews to Interview Room One and got her settled. She was a mess, understandable considering she’d just watched her daughter slip into a coma. But they needed to question her, and Cooper knew that with emotional witnesses he stood the best chance of getting the truth. They’d left her husband, Alan, at the hospital with their daughter. He had seemed a broken man, and Cooper’s instinct told him that Alan wasn’t involved in Fraser Grant’s murder.

  “Can I get you something to drink, Mrs Matthews? A cup of tea, perhaps?”

  “No, thank you,” replied the woman. “Please, call me Brenda, Detective.”

  “Okay, Brenda.”

  Quinn entered the interview room and placed a box of tissues in the middle of the table. He raised his eyebrows at Cooper and held up a folder, an indication that he had some new information. That would have to wait. Brenda took a handful of the tissues and blew her nose loudly. Once she was done, Cooper started the recording and made the usual announcements before asking his first question.

  “Brenda, you told us at the hospital about your association with Fraser Grant thirty years ago, an affair that lasted approximately three months. Is that correct?”

  She nodded, before realising she was being recorded. “Yes, Detective Cooper. That is correct. Although his name was James Simpson back then.”

  “Right. You further stated that Fraser Grant was the biological father of your daughter, Eva Matthews. Is that also correct?”

  “Yes.” Sniffles.

  “Okay. Brenda, when was the last time you had any contact with Fraser? Had you seen him or heard from him recently?”

  She looked down at her shoes. “No.” It was almost a whisper.

  “Can you say that again, please? You’ll need to speak up.”

  “No,” she repeated, this time more sure of herself. “No, I haven’t seen him since the day he raped me. The day he made me pregnant.”

  Damn, thought Cooper. He usually knew when a suspect was lying, he prided himself on it, but this time he couldn’t tell one way or the other. He had no idea if Brenda Matthews was telling the truth. Time for a different approach.

  “What about Jack Simpson? Have you seen him recently?”

  “Who?”

  “Jack Simpson. Fraser Grant’s father. Any contact with him?”

  “No, Detective. I never met James’s father, not back then, or now.” She reached for more tissues.

  “So, Eva getting Fraser’s heart, that was a coincidence, was it?”

  Brenda looked up at the two men.

  “Yes, of course it was. I don’t understand what you’re suggesting, Detective.”

  “Something fishy is going on here, Brenda, and I intend to get to the bottom of it. We interviewed Dr Graham today. He told us that Jack Simpson had insisted Eva receive the heart or he wouldn’t agree to any of Fraser’s organs being donated. Then we find out about this connection between you and Fraser, and indeed Fraser and Eva. You have to admit, it seems like more than a coincidence.”

  “I have to admit nothing. I told you, I’ve never met this Jack, and I have no knowledge of his supposed conversation with Dr Graham. Why don’t you ask him about it?”

  “We will, don’t worry. But I want your side of the story first.”

  “There is no my side of the story. I was shocked when I saw James’s picture on the news. He hadn’t changed much, I recognised him straight away despite the name change. I was even more shocked when I found out Eva had his heart, but I assure you, Detective, I had nothing to do with making that happen.”

  Cooper scratched his head, rubbed his temples. This was going nowhere.

  Brenda obviously realised it, too. “I can’t help you, Detective Cooper. Can I please get back to my daughter now?”

  He nodded. “Sure, but we might need to talk to you again later.”

  Brenda stood and picked up her bag. Quinn opened the door and took her to the station manager to organise a lift back to the hospital for her. Cooper was still sitting in the interview room when he returned.

  “You got new information for me?” Cooper asked.

  “Call came through from the fingerprint lab just before five. The prints on the torn page from the newspaper belong to Jack.”

  “No surprises there, confirms the doctor’s story.”

  “Yes, but at least it’s tangible evidence.” Quinn smiled. “We going to talk to the old man now, boss?”

  “Yeah. Send a uniform crew to pick him up, will you? I need to get something to eat first.”

  * * *

  Jack had been waiting in the interview room almost half an hour before Cooper and Quinn arrived. They both entered the interview room and sat down. There were no offers of tea and biscuits this time. Jack Simpson had a lot of questions to answer.

  “Jack,” Cooper began, once they’d formally commenced the interview. “You haven’t been telling us the whole truth now, have you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about your fingerprints on the pages of a newspaper in Fraser’s apartment. I’m talking about a page of that paper torn out, then shown to a doctor at St Vincent’s, demanding the girl in the photograph receive Fraser’s heart. His daughter. Your granddaughter. When did you find out, Jack? When did you find out about Eva?”

  Jack’s eyes grew desperate at the mention of his granddaughter’s name. “How is she?”

  “She’s not very well, actually. She knows. Her mother told her everything, and she’s not taking it very well.”

  “Oh no!” Jack held his head in his hands. “She was never supposed to find out. Oh, the poor girl.”

  “Jack, it’s time you told me the truth.”

  “Please, Detective.” Jack looked up at Cooper with those grey eyes. “Take me to see her. Just once, just for a few minutes. I have to see her. Then I’ll tell you everything. You have my word, I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Not going to happen. I want answers first. Then maybe I can let you
see her.”

  Jack folded his arms. “I’m not saying anything until I see my granddaughter.”

  “She’s in intensive care, Mr Simpson,” said Quinn. “She’s in a coma. I doubt her family will want you anywhere near her.”

  “That’s a chance I’ll have to take. Please, let me try.”

  Cooper looked the old man over. In that moment, he felt sorry for him. The guy obviously carried a huge burden, a load created by the actions of his son. Actions that could never be undone. He sighed, then nodded at Quinn. “Okay, Jack. We’ll take you to her. But if the family says no, we have to respect their wishes. And I still want answers.”

  53

  Jack stood outside the doors to the Intensive Care Unit with Detective Quinn, waiting. Detective Cooper had gone in to ask Eva’s family if Jack could see her. He didn’t put a lot of faith in Cooper’s ability to negotiate on his behalf, mostly because Cooper was obviously of the opinion that Jack had murdered his own son. Still, what else could he do? He was as surprised as anyone when Cooper reappeared and said he could go in.

  “You’ve got five minutes,” he said as he held the door open and pointed toward Eva’s bed.

  Cooper hadn’t cleared it with the medical staff, though.

  “Can I help you, sir?” asked the large, square woman who sat behind the main desk.

  “I’m here to see Eva Matthews.”

  “I’m afraid it’s family only in here, sir. You’ll have to leave.”

  “I am family,” Jack replied, doing his best not to swear. “I’m her grandfather.” It was the first time in his life he’d used that word. Grandfather. The recognition shocked him, and he almost turned for the door.

  “It’s okay,” came a voice from his left. “Let him in, please.”

  The nurse backed down and Jack walked toward the bed. The man who had spoken sat beside the bed, holding the patient’s hand.

  “You must be Jack,” said the man. “I’m Alan. I’m her father.”