“Do you still have family there?” Fenella tried to think of something that might help the clearly upset man.
“Family? In Liverpool? Nah, they’ve all moved away, haven’t they?” He glanced behind her and then shrugged. “I suppose you’ll see me, sleeping rough on the promenade soon enough, won’t you?” He turned and walked away.
Fenella took a step after him, but Shelly caught her arm. “What was that all about?”
“I said hello and he started complaining about Mortimer,” Fenella replied. “Apparently, the man recorded a video of their last argument and sent it to the owners, which is why he was let go.”
“Did Walter know he was being recorded?” Shelly asked.
“Yes,” Fenella shuddered. “It seems like he had a very good motive for killing Mortimer after all. And if his behavior just now is anything to go on, I believe he could have done it. He was furious and quite scary.”
“We should ring Daniel,” Shelly said quickly.
Fenella nodded. “After we’ve spoken to Dr. Yates,” she said. “No point in bothering him twice, especially not when he’s so tired. I’m hoping that he’s home sleeping right now.”
“It’s getting late,” Shelly pointed out. “We need to go and put our shopping away before we head to Lonan.”
They made their way to the checkout counters and then back to their respective apartments. A short while later, they were in Shelly’s car, on their way north.
“Is there any part of the island that isn’t beautiful?” Fenella asked as she watched the scenery go by out her window.
“Not really,” Shelly replied. “Some parts are more stunning than others, but most of it is incredibly gorgeous.”
“I can’t believe there aren’t a million people wanting to live here.”
“The weather puts them off,” Shelly said. “It rains a lot and it isn’t very warm, even in the height of summer.”
“That sounds perfect to me. I don’t like it too hot,” Fenella said happily.
Dr. Yates office was in a small, detached property in the heart of the village. There was a short row of retail shops across the road from it and a tiny café next door. A single car was parked in front of the building.
“Here goes nothing,” Shelly muttered as she parked next to the older model sedan.
“Hopefully, he’ll be able to explain what sort of side effects Harvey’s medications might have had on him,” Fenella said. “Even if he has to talk about hypothetical patients in a hypothetical situation to avoid breaking doctor and patient confidentiality.”
At the door, Shelly stopped. “This all sounded good when we were talking about it earlier, but now I feel like we’re meddling and it isn’t any of our business.”
“You heard what Daniel said; the police aren’t spending much time investigating what happened to Harvey now that he’s back safe and sound. I think Harvey deserves to know what happened to him, though, don’t you?”
Shelly nodded. “And Dr. Yates will understand that. He’s such a lovely man.”
The door opened into a small waiting room, which was empty. There was a desk near the far wall that held a telephone and a small appointment book. No one was sitting in the chair behind it, though.
Shelly glanced around. “I wonder if anyone is here,” she said hesitantly.
“You did make an appointment, didn’t you?” Fenella asked.
“Yes,” Shelly confirmed. “Do you think we should sit down and wait or knock on the door at the back?”
Fenella shrugged. “You tell me. This would never happen in the US. Doctor’s offices have huge front office staffs to deal with all of the insurance paperwork and to keep the patients in line.”
Shelly walked over to the desk and glanced at the appointment book. “I’m here,” she said. “Clearly booked for three o’clock.”
Both women glanced at the large clock on the wall. It was one minute to three. “Maybe you should knock on the door,” Fenella suggested.
Shelly took a step forward, toward the door behind the desk, and then jumped as the door suddenly swung open.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Dr. Yates said, giving both women a bright smile. “And I thought my office manager said I only had one appointment on the books for this afternoon. Never mind, we’ll sort it out.”
“We’re together,” Shelly told him. “And we just came to ask you a few questions about medications, not because either of us is ill.”
A frown flashed over the man’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a genial smile. “Questions about medications? That sounds intriguing. Why don’t you come back into the surgery? We can chat in my office.”
Fenella and Shelly followed the man through the door and into a short corridor. Fenella glanced into a couple of typical-looking exam rooms before the doctor opened the last door in the hall.
“Please come in,” he said, gesturing for them to walk into the room.
The office was small, with bookshelves all along the wall behind the desk. Fenella couldn’t help but take a moment to read some of the titles. Mixed in between what could only have been medical school textbooks, she spotted several murder mysteries, a few biographies, and some science fiction novels.
“Have a seat,” the man suggested. There were two chairs facing the desk. Shelly slid into one as Fenella took the other. Dr. Yates moved behind the desk and sat in the chair there. There were piles of paper and folders in neat stacks all over the desk. He frowned at them and then shrugged. “My receptionist usually clears all of this away at the end of the day, but she left early today,” he explained.
“I think I need a receptionist,” Shelly said. “No one tidies up after me.”
Dr. Yates chuckled. “It does have advantages. But you didn’t come to talk about that. What’s on your mind?”
Shelly glanced at Fenella and then smiled. “Dr. Yates, I’m sure you’ve heard about Harvey Garus’s disappearance,” she began.
“Yes,” the man replied. “I did hear something about it. I understand he’s back home now and none the worse for wear, though.”
“He is, but he doesn’t remember what happened to him while he was missing,” Shelly explained.
“That’s unfortunate,” the man said with a frown. “But probably not all that unusual. Some level of confusion, especially in out of the ordinary circumstances, might be considered by some to be common in men and women of a certain age.”
“Harvey doesn’t have any problems with his memory,” Shelly said firmly. “Except for those few days.”
“If that’s the case, then I would suggest that he must have bumped his head. Perhaps that’s what caused him to go missing in the first place. Someone must have looked after him, and then once his memory returned, sent him on his way,” the man suggested.
“Surely, if you found someone in a state of confusion, you’d ring the police, not take them home and keep them for several days,” Fenella interjected.
The doctor shrugged. “I’ve seen many strange things in my years practicing medicine,” he told her. “People often do unpredictable things that seem odd to other people.”
“Harvey told us that just before he went missing he needed to change a lot of his medications,” Shelly said after a short pause. “We were wondering if confusion or memory loss were possible side effects of anything he started taking.”
The doctor frowned and sat back in his seat, his expression thoughtful. “I can’t tell you anything about Harvey’s particular medical issues,” he said after a moment. “What I can tell you is that memory loss and confusion are common side effects of a great many medications. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that that includes some of the particular ones that Harvey takes or has taken in the past.”
Shelly glanced at Fenella and raised her eyebrows. “If he did suffer memory loss due to his medication, will he remember what happened to him eventually?” Fenella asked.
“That’s an impossible question to answer,” the man replied. “T
he brain is a great unexplored conundrum. I certainly can’t explain how memory works. It’s possible that his memories may return, given enough time, or if he encounters some sort of trigger, but it’s also possible that whatever happened to him has been lost forever.”
Fenella thought she could hear impatience in the man’s tone. “I know we seem nosy,” she said quickly. “But we’re worried about Harvey. He’s such a dear and sweet man and he’s rather upset about the days that are missing from his life. We were hoping you might be able to suggest ways to help him remember.”
“As I said, that may be impossible. You may be able to spark something if you can find the right trigger, but I’ve no idea what the right trigger would be,” Dr. Yates replied.
“What do you mean by trigger?” Shelly asked.
“Memories often resurface when someone hears a familiar sound or song or smells something that reminds them of some event or person,” he explained.
“Like every time I smell maple syrup, I remember my childhood kitchen vividly,” Fenella said.
“Exactly. If Harvey was to smell or hear something that reminded him of the time he was missing, he might recall more of what happened to him,” the man said.
“So we just have work out what sound or smell that would be,” Shelly mused.
“It’s a bit of a circular argument,” Fenella said. “If we knew where he’d been, we’d be able to identify a trigger or two, and if we had a trigger or two, he might be able to remember where he’d been.”
“Maybe we should have him smell a bunch of different scents and see if any of them help him remember anything,” Shelly suggested.
“I suspect the odds of you hitting on just the right scent would be against you,” Dr. Yates told her. “Was that all you needed today?”
The women exchanged glances. “I suppose so,” Shelly said. “Unless you have any other suggestions?”
He shook his head. “I will give the matter some thought, though. If Harvey is really distressed about the matter, he should come and see me. There are medications that he could take to lower his anxiety.”
Fenella got to her feet. “Thank you for your time,” she said. She took a step toward the door and then stopped. “You were Mortimer’s doctor as well, weren’t you? Was he on any of the same medications as Harvey?”
The man frowned and then stood up. “I can’t possibly share that information with you,” he said tightly.
“What about Leonora?” Fenella asked. “Were you her doctor?”
With a clearly forced smile on his face, the man stepped around the desk and opened his office door. “I wish I could be of more assistance,” he said through clenched teeth. “But I’m afraid I’m out of time for today.”
Fenella took a step out the door with Shelly on her heels. She stopped when she spotted the woman in the corridor. “Hello,” she said. “How are you today?”
Bernice Yates stared at her for a minute and then shook her head. “Why are you here?” she demanded loudly.
“Bernice? What are you doing here?” the man asked, pushing his way into the corridor around Shelly and Fenella.
“I heard voices,” Bernice told him. “I was walking in the garden and I heard voices. I thought I should come and make sure you were okay. You weren’t meant to have any more patients today.”
“I had one last appointment,” Dr. Yates told her. “But they’re going now.”
“You were talking about Harvey,” Bernice said, her tone accusatory. “You promised he wouldn’t remember.”
“Yes, well, I don’t think promised is the word you’re looking for,” the man said, clearing his throat. “Let’s let these ladies be on their way and then we can have some tea and toast. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“No. I’m tired of tea and toast. I want cottage pie like Harvey made when he was staying with us,” the woman replied.
Dr. Yates glanced at Fenella and shrugged. “She’s so easily confused,” he murmured. “She probably thinks Mortimer and Leonora were here, too.”
“Mortimer was here,” Bernice said. “But he wasn’t very nice.” She smiled at Shelly. “You were nice, at the memorial service. If you want to come and stay for a while, I won’t hide the tablets that you need, I promise.”
Fenella looked at Shelly and then took her arm. “I think we need to be going,” she said, wincing as she heard her overly loud voice echo through the corridor. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Yates,” she said. She took a step forward, dragging Shelly with her.
“Stop,” the man said. “I think we need to talk more. You’ll be getting the wrong idea from everything that Bernice said. Come back into my office so we can talk.”
“Look at the time,” Shelly said brightly. “I nearly forget that I have an appointment in half an hour. We really do have to go. Thank you anyway.”
“You really can’t go,” Dr. Yates said in a sad voice. “Not now. Not until I’ve explained. Bernice is just so confused all the time.”
“Not so much now,” Bernice countered. “Those new tablets are helping so much. Leonora liked them, too, almost as much as she liked you.”
The man frowned. “As I said, you’d better come in my office,” he said sharply, taking Shelly’s arm.
Shelly shook her head. “We’re leaving now,” she said firmly.
“I don’t think so,” Bernice said in a singsong voice. “I think you’re staying here. Oscar said so, and he’s never wrong.”
“Daniel will be worried about us,” Fenella said. “He’ll be at my apartment in a little while, expecting me to be there.”
Shelly made a noise, causing Fenella to look over at her.
“She’s fine,” Bernice said. “Just fine.”
Fenella took her friend’s arm and tried to pull her away from the doctor, but Shelly just stared at her blankly.
“Fenella, you mustn’t worry,” the doctor said. “Everything will be just fine.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and a moment later she felt a stinging sensation in her arm. She tried to take a step backwards, but everything went black.
“Fenella? Can you hear me?” Shelly’s voice cut through the darkness. “Fenella? Wake up.” Shelly’s sounded upset.
Fenella opened one eye and then blinked several times. It was dark and cold and she didn’t want to wake up. As she crawled back to consciousness, she realized that her head hurt. “Hmmm,” she managed.
“Fenella? Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay,” Shelly pleaded.
“I’m not okay,” Fenella replied, her words slurring slightly. “What happened?”
“What do you remember?” Shelly asked.
Fenella rubbed her eyes and then sat up very slowly. She had been lying on a cold and hard floor somewhere, but where and why? “My head hurts,” she said, her mouth and throat dry.
“Yeah, mine too,” Shelly agreed. “Where are we?”
“I was hoping you knew,” Fenella replied. “Let me think.” She rubbed her head and then her arm, which also hurt for some reason. Her brain didn’t seem to want to function at all.
“What is the last thing you can remember?” Shelly asked after a moment.
“I don’t know. I can’t remember much of anything right now,” Fenella told her, feeling tears of frustration in her eyes. “I don’t know what day it is or where we are or how we got here.”
“We had lunch in your flat,” Shelly said. “With Daniel.”
Fenella tried to focus. After a moment, she sighed. “I think I remember that,” she said. “And we were going to do something after lunch, weren’t we?”
“Yes, but I don’t know what,” Shelly replied.
“Where are you?” Fenella asked. “I can hear you, but I can’t see anything. It’s too dark.”
“I’m lying down on a very cold floor,” Shelly said. “I don’t even know how I knew you were here, but once I woke up, I just kept calling your name.”
Fenella inched forward slowly, following the sound of Shelly’s voice. Af
ter a short while, she touched something soft and warm.
“That’s my leg,” Shelly told her. A moment later the two women were locked in a tight embrace.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Fenella said. “I can’t imagine waking up in here all alone.”
“But where are we?” Shelly asked. “And why can’t we remember anything?”
“Remembering is important.” Fenella spoke slowly, trying to work out what her brain was trying to tell her. “Someone else forgot something and we were trying to help him remember.”
“It was Harvey,” Shelly exclaimed. “He forgot where he’d been.”
“Do you think he was here?” Fenella asked. “Maybe he got shut up in this dark horrible place, too.”
“But why are we here?”
“We must have gone to talk to someone and that someone locked us up,” Fenella said. “Who did we want to talk to?”
“Harvey?” Shelly suggested.
“He wouldn’t lock us up, would he?”
“Maybe we aren’t locked up,” Shelly said. “Maybe we just have to find the door.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Fenella asked. She got to her feet slowly and then stretched out an arm in each direction. When she couldn’t touch anything, she moved forward slowly, waving her arms as she went. It wasn’t long before her hand hit a wall.
“Should I get up, too?” Shelly asked.
“You sit still,” Fenella told her. “I don’t want either of us to get hurt by bumping into one another. I’ve found a wall, now I just have to find a door.”
She followed the wall to a corner and then turned and followed the perpendicular wall until she felt a doorframe. “I found a door,” she said excitedly. She turned the doorknob. “And it’s locked,” she added sadly.
“Is there a light switch anywhere?” Shelly asked.
Fenella felt around, carefully retracing her steps as she went. Not far from the door, she found a switch. The single low-wattage bulb in the center of the room didn’t do much to illuminate the space, but it was better than the darkness. Shelly quickly stood up and joined Fenella near the door, embracing her again.
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