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

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Bad Medicine- A Life for a Life; Bed of Nails; Going Viral Page 60

by Puckett, Andrew


  ‘Yes, well maybe it won’t go exactly like that. However, the point I’m trying to make is that we won’t go after them until we’ve secured you.’

  Good to know. I said that much as well, then had a thought: ‘But what if they take the bug off me – make me take off my coat – then take me with them?’

  ‘They’d have to strip you naked to do that – besides we won’t go after them until we’ve physically got you.’

  ‘Naked or otherwise,’ I observed.

  ‘I do hope not, for Bex’s sake,’ he said deadpan. ‘It’ll likely be her coming for you.’ It was the first time I’d heard him shorten her name.

  I asked if they’d be able to follow exactly where I was.

  ‘We’ll follow the bugs actually moving on a map.’

  I nodded thoughtfully, then asked them what they wanted me to do in the meantime.

  ‘Exactly as you would have done – oh, you’d better not go too far away. And keep in touch.’

  ‘When do I report for duty?’

  ‘Let’s say 5.00 at the station. Unless we tell you otherwise.’

  We talked a bit longer. I asked if they thought the writer was the same one, and he said it was being analysed in London.

  Rebecca said, ‘I think it’s different. Different language, different tone. Certainly more ruthless.’

  I said, ‘I suppose he - they – would be, given the murder of the others.’

  ‘I can’t argue with that,’ Brigg said soberly.

  He’d started making time-to-go movements when I had another thought.

  ‘What about an alarm?’ I said. ‘Something I can press in an emergency, like a rape alarm.’

  ‘I’d think one of those going off would be more likely to make them harm you.’

  ‘I mean, an emergency – ’ I began, but Rebecca cut me off –

  ‘What about something Herry could press that would alert just us?’ she said. ‘In a life threatening situation…’

  ‘If he’s tied up, how could he press it?’

  ‘I don’t know – something in his cuff, maybe even his shoe…’

  Brigg said he’d think about it, then they left.

  It was probably that conversation that saved my life.

  A headache was beginning to menace me, so I washed down some paracetamol with coffee, then drove to the hospital. Roland first.

  He waved my apologies aside and brought me up to date... Five more cases during the night and this morning, all awaiting lab confirmation – ‘Although I don’t think there can be any doubt,’ he said. ‘That makes twenty four I’m sure of.’

  ‘Any more room in Seven?’

  ‘Another six beds, although we’ll stretch that if we have to. The close contacts are more of a problem, Eight’s full and Six half full. Do we have a fall-back?’

  I told him I’d warn Nine. ‘How’s Pat?’

  ‘Still holding her own. And Sarah and Grace seemed fine when I saw them this morning.’

  ‘I’ll go and see them now, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course.’ He patted my shoulder.

  Sarah was feeding Grace. She had a bit of a headache, she said. ‘I expect it’s this place. I can’t stand hospitals. I want to go home, Herry.’

  I thought quickly… It was too early for symptoms if she’d caught it off Pat… and a bit late if from the County Stores… I could see her looking at me, so I told her that.

  She smiled and out of nowhere, said, ‘Love you, Herry.’

  I said, ‘If you weren’t already married, I’d ask you to marry me.’

  She laughed. ‘And I’d accept.’

  Grace burped. I stayed awhile longer and then left. I didn’t tell her about my errand.

  Walked over to the lab. Tim was waiting for a batch of EM slides. I told him that when they were done, we’d go and fumigate the County Stores.

  I rang Anne. She, Clare and Brendon had been joined by others from outside and were all busy ring vaccinating the new contacts, and also extending the rings.

  Tim confirmed the five cases, we got the bombing equipment ready and left for Newton.

  I drove. My headache was getting worse and we didn’t say much. Brigg had given me back the keys so we went straight to the County Stores. The soldier on duty peered at me and let us pass.

  My head throbbed. I said, ‘Tim, I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling so good. I’d like to leave you to it if you don’t mind.’

  ‘No probs,’ he said, ‘I’ve got all the stuff.’ He opened the door. ‘What

  about the air conditioning – do I do all the ducts or just the infected one?’

  ‘Do the lot,’ I said. I helped him unload, told him I’d arrange transport for him and went to see Gibb.

  ‘You don’t look so hot,’ he said cheerily.

  ‘I don’t feel it. How’s it going?’

  ‘Can’t complain. A couple of silly bastards tried to get into the shop last night, and another pronk tried to break the blockade. Wanted to see his girlfriend apparently, although what she’d have said if he’d given her the pox, I don’t know.’

  I smiled despite myself. ‘Well, you can stop worrying about the shop – no one’s going to be going in there for a while.’ I told him about the bombing.

  He laughed. ‘I wish we could put a perimeter of it around the whole place. Shouldn’t be for too much longer, should it?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Most people seem to have accepted it with good grace, mind,’ he said.

  We exchanged a few more words, then I left for Exeter. For home, in fact. I felt a bit guilty about sloping off, but I wouldn’t have been in any condition for the evening the way I was. I took some more paracetamol, set my alarm for four and tried to sleep.

  And succeeded … to be woken three hours later feeling much better.

  Drove to the hospital to be met by Roland. A worried looking Roland.

  ‘Herry,’ he said, ‘Sarah’s got a temperature, a hundred and three. I’m sorry, but I don’t like the look of it.’

  I tried to take it in… ‘Rash?’ I said at last.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘But… But why so late? I mean, the others from the store went down days ago…’

  ‘It happens, Herry – you know that better than me.’

  I swallowed… ‘Is there anything…?’

  ‘Control the temperature, keep her hydrated… She’s young, healthy – she’s got every chance.’

  ‘Have you moved her?’

  He nodded. ‘She’s in Seven.’

  ‘Grace?’

  ‘She’s fine. I’ve left her where she is at the moment, but we’re having to bottle feed her.’

  ‘Is Sarah conscious? Can I see her?’

  ‘Sure.’ He led the way.

  She opened her eyes. ‘‘Lo, Herry. Another fine mess, eh?’ She’d always liked Laurel and Hardy.

  I held her hand. ‘Hello, love.’ I studied her… she was obviously ill, but there was no sign of any rash… a good omen maybe… ‘You’ll be all right,’ I said.

  ‘I’d bloody better be. Can you stay?’

  ‘Sure, for a while. There’s a job I’ve got to do later, but I’ll be back after that.’ I hope to God, I thought… Then I thought, I’ve fucking well got to be…

  I stayed there, holding her hand. ‘My boobs hurt,’ she said. ‘Make sure Grace is fed, won’t you?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘So much for good intentions, eh?’

  I stayed there till my phone went at ten past five. Told Brigg I’d be along, kissed her, showered, went to see Grace, drove to the Police Station.

  Chapter 36

  It was still light. I didn’t feel anything as I drove. Couldn’t.

  My wife was lying in hospital with smallpox and I was heading for a… an uncomfortable liaison – at best.

  What if something happened to me? Oh, I know Sarah’d be all right financially, but she, they, needed more than that…

  Or so I flattered myself.
>
  What if it happened to them? What if they were to…?

  An abyss opened in front of me and only a hoot from the car behind kept me out of it. I forced my mind to a blank and drove on.

  The police station. Parked, went in, was directed to Brigg.

  They, six of them, were in a windowless room with a large screen against the wall depicting a map of Exeter. Rebecca told me the others were Josh, Dan, Greg and Stella. Brigg showed me how the four bugs worked – one for me, one for the backpack, one for the container, and the last, the false diamond. They were lit on the screen, and they could follow them individually if they were split.

  ‘With regard to an alarm,’ he went on, ‘we’ve decided to wire you.’

  He showed me where the miniature microphone and transmitter would stick to my chest. ‘Anyone who speaks within a few feet of you, we’ll hear them. And you, of course.’

  ‘What about from behind?’

  ‘That too, we’ll stick another on your back.’

  ‘What if something does happen, how far away will you be?’

  ‘Bex?’

  She said, ‘Josh and I are going to follow you, but keep well back, out of sight. We’ll put a bug in your car so that we’ll know where you are. We’ll all be able to hear you: me, Josh and the Commander. If you need us, shout. If we hear something that makes us think you need us, we’ll come.’

  I asked if she’d be able to talk to me. She shook her head.

  ‘They’d spot that immediately. They might find it anyway, but we’re hoping they’ll be in too much of a hurry to bother.’

  ‘Is there anything you want me to say – to let you know I’ve seen them.’

  ‘No,’ said Brigg. ‘It’ll be dark, they’ll have to speak to you, so we’ll know they’re there.’

  He asked me if I had plenty of fuel in the car and I said Yes. ‘D’you think it’ll be a long way, then?’

  ‘I doubt it, but you never know. Let’s start getting you ready – they might phone early, just to put us off balance.’

  As they stuck the wires to my chest and back, he told me how when they phoned, they’d probably give me very little time to get to where they wanted me. ‘We’ve told the local patrol cars not to stop you for speeding – although don’t, if you can help it.’

  ‘I’ll be too bloody nervous.’

  ‘Probably not, once you get started.’

  They attached one of the bugs inside the waist of my underpants – ‘In case they make you take your trousers off…’ then showed me where the others were in the backpack and container.

  ‘Do I get to take a look at the diamonds, since I’ll be carrying them?’

  He smiled. ‘I don’t see why not.’

  He prised the lid off and tilted the container towards me. I wish I could say they flashed with a mysterious inner light, but they didn’t. They looked like the photos of diamonds I’d seen. I said so.

  Josh said, ‘I think you’ve got to look through them to see that.’

  ‘Which one’s the bug?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ Brigg said. ‘Which means, I hope, that they won’t.’

  He squeezed the lid back on and returned the container to the backpack. This, as they’d stipulated, was a bright yellow.

  ‘So they can spot you from a distance,’ Brigg said.

  After that, there was just the waiting. Rebecca offered me a coffee, which I accepted, despite Brigg’s warning that it might make me want to pee. I said I’d go before seven.

  ‘Go now,’ he said, ‘in case they ring early.’

  I went. It wouldn’t come at first, although I knew there was one there. Nerves, I suppose. Then I went back and sipped at the coffee, not wanting to tempt fate.

  6.30. I wasn’t the only one suffering – Rebecca muttered something and slipped out.

  ‘If it’s for a fag,’ Brigg snarled after her, ‘get a move on.’ He turned to me. ‘Reminds me, have you got a mobile on you?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Keep it in your pocket, you never know.’

  6.37. Rebecca came back in.

  6.45. Rebecca, Josh and I put our coats on, although it was hot. The phone went at 6.49. Brigg snatched it up –

  ‘This is John Amend-all for Commander Brigg.’ It was on loudspeaker, so we could all hear it.

  ‘Commander Brigg speaking.’

  ‘Do you have the goods ready?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can Dr Smith hear this?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Dr Smith, drive to the Brunel Trading Estate. Go to Hawksworth Way and stop outside the main gate of Enterprise Plumbing –’ The accent was West of England, maybe Bristol – ‘Get out of the car and wait. You have twenty minutes.’ The phone clicked off.

  ‘Here it is,’ Brigg said, pointing to the south-west corner of the city on the map. He moved his finger. ‘We’re here. Go left outside the station down Union Street, keep following the road, cross the river here, keep going half a mile, turn off here, Collett Way. Bex?’

  She was using a fluorescent felt tip to trace the route on two A-Z sheets. She handed one of them to me.

  ‘Got it?’ Brigg said.

  I nodded.

  ‘Off you go, all of you. Good luck.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said dryly – which was easy, since my mouth was dry.

  We hurried out to the car park.

  ‘I’ll follow in half a minute,’ Rebecca called to me as I got into my car. ‘Good luck.’

  I slammed the door, belted up, started the engine. Drove out.

  I was trembling violently – so much for what Brigg said …

  I knew more or less where I was going. The A-Z sheet was on the seat beside me. Down Union Street, left round the one way, right over the river bridge … I could see the river glinting in the lights and suddenly remembered Sarah painting it upstream…

  Keep going… half a mile… look out for the turning…

  Progress Road… Armitage Road… Collett Way – I turned left into it. Glanced at the dash clock – 7.10, I had five minutes.

  Drove down a wide, empty road past business premises great and small, all shiny drab in the sodium glare… not a soul about – why should there be? Glanced in the mirror – nothing – nor should there be.

  Churchward Way… Dean Way… Hawksworth Way – I turned into it.

  Sites behind chain link fencing, desolate pavements, weeds… Enterprise Plumbers. I stopped outside the gate. Swallowed.

  Nothing. Were these the main gates? Were there others, round the corner maybe…? Glanced at the clock – 7.15.

  Got out and wriggled into the backpack. Locked the car, felt stupid for even thinking of it…

  Looked up and down. Nothing. No sound, no car lights. No sign of Rebecca.

  Was there another gate? I walked quickly round the corner – no other gates; besides, this road was called Armstrong Way – back to the gates…

  I looked all around, 360 degrees: through the gates, over the road, everywhere… nothing.

  I was shivering. It was cold and I thrust my hands into my pockets. I’d stopped trembling, but I was shivering –

  A phone rang – I jumped, fumbled for my mobile, realised it wasn’t my phone ringing… It was coming from the pavement by the gate… I knelt… found it tucked behind some weeds beside the concrete post – found the right button…

  ‘Dr Smith?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When I’ve finished, walk left along Hawksworth Way until you reach Gooch Way, then go left again and follow it until you reach a bridge. Wait in the middle of the bridge.’ The phone clicked off.

  I put it in the other pocket and started walking. A hundred yards. A chill breeze blew at my neck and I turned up the collar of my coat. Went on shivering. Stuffed my hands back into my pockets. Felt the two phones…

  Gooch Way. Turned into it. Chain link, sodium light and desolation, just like all the other ways. Nothing like cricket.

  Darkness ahead. I kept walking. The chain link
ended and the road became a rough track. I couldn’t see a bridge. Took a few more paces, stopped and peered…

  Now, away from the sodium glare, I could make it out in the light of the gibbous moon – a bridge, hump-backed, waiting for me.

  I walked towards it. Stones rattled under my feet and the bridge grew clearer…

  It was an old bridge, a canal bridge, and the moon reflected in the still water below. I stood in the middle and peered into the dark in front of me and as my eyes adjusted, the ground became clearer in the moonlight: a wasteland of humps, tracks, puddles, the odd derelict shack and rough, tussocky grass…

  The phone trilled, I snatched it, pushed the button –

  ‘Dr Smith?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you see a light on the skyline dead ahead of you?’

  I peered… the only one I could see must have been well over a mile away… ‘You mean the one on top of the building?’

  ‘Walk towards it. Keep walking until I tell you to stop.’ Click.

  I started walking, looking alternately at the ground and the light. The ground grew rougher – I dodged a puddle, skirted some rubble, found a sort of track, tripped on a brick –

  Fell, hand thrusting into some kind of foliage…

  Nettles. They do still sting in winter.

  Got to my feet, focused on the light, stumbled on. Absently rubbed my hand…

  There was a thick copse ahead, but to one side of it, a gleam… must be the river…

  That’s where they are, the trees… I walked towards them. The tops were bare, but the underground impenetrable. Kept walking. Stopped at the edge of the trees. Peered. Swallowed –

  ‘Over here, Dr Smith.’

  A quiet voice, my head jerked up – shadow to my right –

  ‘Over here,’ it said again. I walked slowly, reluctantly, towards it.

  ‘Follow me.’ It vanished into the undergrowth.

  A path, with the shadow moving ahead. I followed – heard a noise behind me, turned, caught the glint of a gun in the moonlight –

  ‘Keep going.’ Another voice, rougher.

  I kept going. The undergrowth rustled dryly, then without warning ended in a clearing beside the river.

  ‘Stop there.’ The first voice. ‘You have something for us?’

 

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