Bad Medicine- A Life for a Life; Bed of Nails; Going Viral

by Puckett, Andrew

  ‘They’re all we’ve got, Stella,’ he said softly.

  She nodded. ‘I know. I wish I could help you more.’

  *

  Meanwhile, on Monday, they contacted Workers Abroad, the organisation that had sent Ron and Alan on VSO. They had a record of Ron, Alan and Brian, but nothing on Craig and Malcolm. They said they’d keep looking.

  Ron and Alan both said they thought it had been the same organisation, but couldn’t be sure. Which meant that Brigg and Rebecca had to go chasing round all the others…

  Rebecca was having a miserable time, brooding over the axe hanging over her when she wasn’t questioning or chasing. Oh sure, both Herry and the GUM consultant had told her it was unlikely she’d get HIV – but with HIV, unlikely wasn’t good enough. And Marc’s schadenfreude every time he looked at her, made her wish for the good old days of police brutality…

  *

  Wednesday morning. They began questioning again, starting with Ron.

  They’d been at it for about ten minutes when a harsh, trilling from the corridor outside made them all jump.

  ‘Fire drill,’ said Brigg, getting to his feet –

  The door burst open and a sergeant shouted, ‘It’s not a drill, get him cuffed and bring him upstairs, quick…’

  Smoke billowed behind him…

  ‘What about the others?’ Brigg shouted.

  ‘They’re being taken care of – hurry…’ he ran off…

  Brigg helped Ron up, Rebecca handcuffed him at the front and they led him out. The smoke was thicker and they began coughing. They found the stairs, Rebecca went first, holding Ron’s arm, then Brigg.

  They came up into the lobby, saw others evacuating through to the back, followed them into the car park.

  A crowd was gathering. The sergeant who’d shouted at them was with Marc and the others a little way off. Marc was trying to put an arm round Hannah despite the handcuffs. She clung to him, crying. Four uniformed police guarded them.

  ‘Where are you going to put them?’ Brigg asked as they joined them.

  ‘Cells in the old building,’ said the sergeant, nodding at the Victorian block on the other side. ‘We’ll take them now, you get yourselves over there to be checked off.’ He took Ron from Rebecca and started leading them away.

  ‘Keep them separate,’ Brigg shouted after them.

  After they’d disappeared into the old building, the crowd dispersed remarkably quickly. Brigg and Rebecca went back into the new building and a few minutes later were sitting in front of a monitor in a windowless room.

  They watched as Marc and the others were ushered into a cell, the cuffs were taken off, then the door clanged as it was shut and locked.

  Marc was the first to speak.

  ‘Is everyone all right?’ he said, looking round.

  There were grunts of assent. Alan, who’d sat on one of the beds, said,

  ‘Better than poor Craig and the others, that’s for sure.’

  ‘If you believe it,’ said Hannah.

  ‘Oh, I believe it,’ said Sophie. ‘They showed me the PM reports.’

  ‘How d’you know they weren’t forged?’

  ‘If they were alive, they’d be here with the rest of us, wouldn’t they?’ said Alan.

  ‘Budge up,’ Sophie said to him. ‘What happened to chivalry?’

  Alan budged, then said, ‘Did anyone have any idea they were doing anything like that?’

  Nos and shaking heads...

  ‘But what was that?’ Sophie said sharply. ‘Were we being told the truth? Were we even told the same thing?’

  They compared notes for a few minutes and agreed that they had been – told the same thing, anyway.

  ‘Who killed them, that’s what I’d like to know?’ said Ron.

  Marc said, ‘Assuming we’ve been told the truth, I can only think Craig did it to stop the others going through with it.’

  ‘When d’you think they’ll let us go?’ Hannah said plaintively.

  ‘They said a week, which is two more days.’ Marc went on, ‘Anyway, it must be getting through to them by now that we don’t know anything. I think Ms Sweetikins yesterday was their last shot.’

  ‘I wonder…’ Sophie murmured, looking round the ceiling…

  (‘Uh oh,’ Brigg said to Rebecca…)

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past that bastard Brigg to hang on to us a bit longer just for the hell of it,’ said Alan.

  ‘Oh no…’ wailed Hannah, and Marc took her hand.

  ‘He’s nothing like so bad as that other bitch.’ Sophie spoke slowly and deliberately.

  ‘I did try to warn you,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Yes, you did, and I’m sorry,’ said Sophie. ‘I didn’t like her, but I thought she was one of those inadequates who get their kicks flitting from cause to cause. Whereas in fact she’s compensating by pretending to be Mata Hari.’

  (‘She’s on to us,’ Brigg said to Rebecca.)

  ‘In more ways than one,’ Marc said. ‘You know she was sleeping with Craig?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. Figures, though. I wonder what she thinks about that now.’

  Marc grunted. ‘Quite a lot, I expect. I told them how his wife died of AIDS. You should have seen her face.’

  (‘So’s he,’ Rebecca said.)

  ‘Serves her right,’ said Sophie.

  ‘It’ll certainly cramp her style on her next assignment,’ said Marc.

  ‘What the hell are you two on about?’ demanded Alan.

  ‘We’ve been set up,’ said Sophie. ‘The cunts are listening to us now. Probably watching us as well.’

  ‘But what about the fire?’ Ron. ‘That smoke was real enough.’

  ‘Ah, but contrary to the proverb,’ said Sophie, ‘you can have it without fire.’

  ‘Does it matter?’ Hannah said wildly. ‘All I want to do is get out of here. D’you hear me?’ she yelled, looking round. ‘We don’t know anything, so let us go.’

  ‘Well, it was worth a try,’ said Brigg.

  They watched and listened a bit longer, then gave up. Once all the smoke had been cleared, they had them brought back.

  Marc did a double take as he emerged from the Old Building. ‘Well, how about that?’ he said to the sergeant beside him. ‘And I was expecting a crisp blackened shell.’

  The sergeant said nothing.

  *

  An hour later, Brigg and Rebecca were still in the windowless room. They’d watched the recording several times.

  She said, ‘Listen to this bit, sir…’

  She wound it back, stopped near the beginning, pressed play…

  Ron said: Who killed them, that’s what I’d like to know?

  Marc said: Assuming it’s the truth, I can only think Craig did it to stop the others going through with it… whatever it was…

  Rebecca stopped the machine and said, ‘If we take that at face value, it sounds genuine. Then, a little later…’ She started the tape again...

  Marc said: It must be getting through to them by now that we don’t know anything. I think Ms Sweetikins was their last shot.

  ‘Again, it sounds genuine. Then Sophie says I wonder… and starts looking round the ceiling. She realises we’re listening and starts referring to me as a bitch. Then Marc catches on and they bait me with the AIDS thing.’

  ‘A bit more than baiting, I’d say,’ Brigg murmured.

  She went on. ‘We’ve been assuming that Sophie caught on first, but what if Marc did? And hid it. If that was the case, he sounds more like he’s playing a part, to convince us he’s innocent.’

  They watched and listened again.

  She said, ‘The only thing we can do is try to break his alibi for Wednesday, which means putting pressure on Hannah.’ She looked at him. ‘Have we got time for that?’

  They were still talking about it when Brigg’s own boss, John Williams, phoned to ask for a progress report, then said he was coming down.

  He was with them in just over two hours.

  He went
over everything with them again, watched the recording, asked what they thought.

  ‘I agree with you,’ he said at last. ‘Those two, Bell and Rene can’t be ruled out. But they can’t be ruled in either, which means you can’t hold them any longer. It’s going to be bad enough when it gets out that his wife has been separated from her young son for five days.’

  ‘Can’t we get a gagging order?’

  ‘Certainly, and we will. But we know that it will get out, and probably sooner rather than later.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘I’ve watched the recording, and it’s really not clear either way. It seems to me entirely possible that Craig Holland, knowing he had HIV, decided to kill them all to prevent them going ahead with it.’

  ‘Can we risk that?’

  ‘We don’t have any choice Leo, not unless you can come up with some new evidence.’

  Brigg nodded unwillingly. Williams went on,

  ‘Now that you’ve worked out how they were going to spread the virus, you can keep watch on all the likely places you’ve identified.’

  They were released within an hour.

  That was Wednesday. Brigg and Rebecca organised surveillance as Williams had suggested, then went on looking. They tracked down Brian Love, but eliminated him quite quickly. They chased Workers Abroad, the organisation who’d sent Ron, Alan and Brian abroad, but they couldn’t find anything on Craig, Malcolm or the nameless one. They tried all the other organisations they could find, but with no luck. Some of them had pretty dodgy record keeping systems.

  They kept looking, for anything, although the heart had gone out of them.

  The first case of smallpox was reported eight days later on Thursday week.

  Chapter 30

  It was the middle of a warm morning and I was with Sarah and Grace on the banks of the Exe when Roland called me. Sarah had her easel up and Grace was cooing and bubbling in her buggy. It was Thursday 7th March.

  ‘I think it’s started,’ he said. ‘There’s a girl here with what looks like smallpox.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Ward 11.’

  ‘I’ll be with you in half an hour. Can you call the others and take some samples for Tim?’

  He hesitated… ‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather you took the samples from this one … we’ve got to get it right.’

  ‘OK, I’m on my way.’

  I told Sarah I’d been called for an emergency. Her mother was in bed with a migraine, so she’d get a taxi back. ‘Is this it?’ she said.

  ‘Could be.’

  ‘Ring me when you can.’

  I kissed her and left.

  Since that Sunday, nearly two weeks ago, I’d spent as much of the time with them as I could. Nothing had been said, but I was thinking in terms of trying again.

  It was as though she’d become a different person. Grace’s birth and Charles’ behaviour had made her… grow up, I suppose.

  Had I ever stopped loving her? Just as importantly, did I like her?

  I thought the answer to that was Yes, I did – now. When we hadn’t been playing with Grace, or with each other in bed, she’d started on the painting of the river she’d talked about, and watching it grow, it was as though I was watching her growing at the same time…

  But now, this.

  Rebecca had told me the previous week how they’d had to release the suspects, also how Blake, and Brigg’s boss Williams had indulged in wishfully thinking that the bodies we’d found were the result of either mass suicide, or murder and suicide. That the crisis was effectively over.

  Like Brigg and Rebecca, I didn’t believe that, and now, as I drove to the hospital, I wondered if I should have called them first… No, wait until I’d seen the patient.

  I got stuck behind a lorry along the Exe Valley and it was forty minutes before I joined Roland in Ward 11. Tim was with him. Helen was in a side room with the patient, while Anne was in another side room with the patient’s mother and GP, who’d both come in with her.

  Roland was already gowned up and had gown, gloves and mask ready for me.

  ‘Is the air conditioning off?’ I asked him.

  He nodded. ‘I did that as soon as I saw her.’

  That was to stop the infection spreading to other parts of the hospital.

  Tim had slides, glass capillaries and fixative ready. We followed Roland into the side room.

  The patient, a girl in her teens, lay naked on the bed – other than for a couple of towels for decency. She was intubated, that is a tube inserted to support her airway, and drips ran into each of her arms. Helen was adjusting one of the drips.

  I’d seen pictures of advanced smallpox, but nothing prepares you for the reality… The whole of her face, hands, arms and feet were a mass of suppurating, angry red pustules. There was more pustule than skin.

  I turned on Roland – ‘Why the hell wasn’t she brought in earlier?’

  ‘The GP thought it was chicken pox, she didn’t realise –’

  ‘Look at her – the pattern’s the opposite of chicken pox…’

  ‘Be fair Herry, she wasn’t this bad even an hour ago. The GP hadn’t been warned and there was no reason for anyone to suspect smallpox.’ He added, ‘It is smallpox, isn’t it?’

  I nodded. It wasn’t just the severity of the rash, it was the distribution. No other disease affects the extremities in the same way. With chicken pox, the rash looks similar – in the early stages, anyway – but it’s concentrated around the trunk. This girl’s trunk was virtually unmarked.

  Tim had laid the slides and fixative on the table beside the bed and stripped the covering from the capillary tubes.

  I chose two pustules from the face and one from each from the hands and feet. Roland watched intently as I dipped the end of each capillary into the weeping fluid until enough had run into it, then spread it on the glass slides. When these had dried, I immersed them in fixative and sealed the container. Then I double bagged it and handed it to Tim. He vanished without a word.

  ‘How long?’ Roland asked.

  ‘In theory, two hours, although Tim’ll hurry it along a bit. Have you done anything about getting the staff and patients here vaccinated?’

  ‘I was waiting for the go-ahead from you. What about the rest of the hospital?’

  ‘Get it started as soon as you can. What about her contacts?’ I nodded at the patient.

  ‘Anne’s talking to the mother and the GP now.’

  ‘Where are they from?’

  He looked at me in what might have been pity, then said, ‘Newton-on-Exe...’

  It took a moment to register, then I sank onto the only chair in the room…

  Roland was saying something like – ‘It’s only one case Herry…’

  I gabbled, ‘It must be the source, we’d better get out there now, get the whole village vaccinated…’

  ‘We can’t, not yet - ‘

  ‘Don’t you fuckin’ tell me what I can and can’t do…’ Then I took a deep breath and said, ‘I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Helen…’

  She murmured something and Roland said, ‘It’s all right.’ He went on, ‘If we just go in now, there’ll be a panic and people will start running… We have to inform the spooks and the army before anything else…’

  I nodded. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’ll get onto that now.’ I looked at Helen. ‘What treatment are you giving her?’

  ‘Airway support, hydration and pain relief at the moment.’

  ‘What’s her temperature?’

  ‘A hundred and four, which is why she’s uncovered. That and the pain relief should bring it down.’

  I nodded and went out of the room. Roland followed.

  ‘When are you moving her?’ I asked.

  ‘Just as soon as I can get the back-up team into Seven.’

  The back-up team were those staff around the hospital who’d volunteered to run the isolation ward in an emergency. Ward Seven had been ready for nearly a week.

  ‘O
K, do it. We’ll get this room bombed today… the rest of the ward maybe tomorrow.’

  He hesitated… ‘It’ll be a hell of a job finding places for all the patients, and there’s no reason to think any of them are infected – we got her straight into the side room.’

  I thought about it. ‘OK. Better keep it isolated though, just in case.’

  He nodded. We stripped off the gowns, thrust everything into a bag and washed our hands. He went off while I took out my phone and called Brigg.

  ‘That’s been confirmed, has it?’ he said when I told him.

  ‘It will be soon enough. I take it you didn’t get any warning from John Amend-all?’

  ‘Not a thing. Different agenda, obviously.’

  ‘Yeah… Can you inform your masters in London? You’d better warn Gibb as well.’

  ‘He’s in Aldershot – d’you want him down now? D’you know the source yet?’

  I hesitated… ‘Not yet. How long would it take him to get down here?’

  ‘Hour and a half, if he knows exactly where to go. Where are you going to be?’

  ‘Here at the hospital for the moment. I’ll get back to you as soon as I know any more.’

  Next, Fenella. She answered on the third ring

  ‘D’you want any help from the other teams in your area?’ she asked when I finished.

  ‘Yes, although we’d look pretty stupid if there was an outbreak on any of their patches…’

  ‘D’you think that’s likely?’

  I thought quickly… ‘Get them to send a nurse each,’ I said. ‘Two infection control and two clinical.’

  ‘Where d’you want them?’

  ‘Here, Ward Seven.’

  ‘I’ll do it now.’

  As I thanked her and put the phone away, Anne stuck her head out of the other side room – ‘Herry, I’ve got the patient’s mother here and she’s getting hysterical, can you come a moment?’

  I hurried in. The mother was standing, wild-faced, as the GP tried to calm her down.

  ‘Mrs Stokes, this is Dr Smith,’ Anne said…

  The woman turned to me – ‘Doctor, what’s wrong with Lucy, is she going to be all right? Why have I been vaccinated, what’s happening…?’

  ‘Lucy’s got a virus infection and we’ve vaccinated you as a precaution.’ The truth, but not the whole truth. ‘Just to be on the safe side, we’re going to keep you in for a while to make sure you haven’t caught it as well.’