Play Dead (D.I. Kim Stone, #4)

‘You two don’t get on?’ he asked. After the way Catherine had just spoken to him he wasn’t surprised.

‘Can’t be doing with changeable women, man. The species is hard enough to understand as it is, d’ya get me?’

Dawson smiled. Oh yeah, he got that.

‘Changeable?’ he asked, pouring himself a glass of water.

‘When she wants something she’s all over you, giving you compliments and stuff, but when she’s got what she wants she’s cool as a penguin’s belly.’

Dawson gave a small laugh. ‘Mate, you’ll find that’s the case with all women, not just that one.’ He made a show of looking around. ‘Curtis Grant not with you today?’

‘Nah. Good job. His aftershave was starting to get in my throat.’

Dawson smiled. Yeah, he’d noticed.

‘He’s been here quite a bit. Is there a lot to do to the system?’

Jameel shook his head. ‘I didn’t think so, but he wanted to check there were no bugs in the software upgrade.’

‘Seems to know his stuff though,’ Dawson observed.

‘To be fair he does. His company is his life. Talks about it like it’s a child.’

Dawson acknowledged his words. ‘Did he do all the planning for the security provision? Siting the cameras and everything?’

‘I think so. It was before I started, but Professor Wright brought him in and seems to trust him.’

Dawson finished the water and headed towards the door.

Suddenly Jameel turned. ‘You got a minute? There’s something I want to ask you.’

Dawson was momentarily surprised. Jameel had been totally disinterested in the activities at the site. He had asked nothing and had just kept his head down and got on with his job.

‘Go on then,’ he said.

Jameel put his hands on his thighs and his eyes opened wide. A quick tongue flick across the lips before he asked his question.

‘I’m dying to know, Sergeant. Have you ever killed anybody?’

‘What?’ Dawson asked incredulously. ‘You realise this is the Black Country not South Central LA?

Jameel leaned forwards. ‘Yeah but have you?’

Dawson tried not to roll his eyes as the day stretched out in front of him.





Fifty





Bryant pulled into the hospital car park and stealthily followed a patron to their car to nab their space.

Kim jumped out of the car and semi-sprinted to the hospital. She headed for the High Dependency Unit on autopilot.

She buzzed the intercom and pushed against the familiar click.

Doctor Singh stood at the nurses’ station, completing a chart. The same ward sister from the previous day smiled in her direction before stepping away from the area with a cardboard bedpan.

Doctor Singh completed what he was writing before turning in her direction. ‘That was very fast, Inspector,’ he observed.

They had postponed the visit to the head teacher in favour of interviewing the live witness who had actually spent time with their killer.

‘She’s awake, you said,’ she said, stepping past him.

He placed a gentle hand on her arm. She moved away from his touch and offered him a frown.

‘Doctor, I need to speak with her immediately. She is imperative to our—’

‘I understand that. It’s why I called you the moment she regained consciousness.’

‘So?’

‘There have been, er… developments since we spoke. It’s become complicated.’

Kim felt her irritation growing in spite of the doctor’s gentle manner. Twenty feet away was a woman with answers she needed. Isobel could hold the key to solving this case before anyone else got hurt.

‘Look, if there’s a form you need me to sign—’

‘A form isn’t going to help you, Inspector. Isobel may be awake, but she has no memories whatsoever of recent events. In fact, she doesn’t even know who she is.’





Fifty-One





Kim stepped back and leaned against the ledge of the nurses’ station.

‘That’s why I wanted to speak to you before you see her. Isobel is suffering from retrograde amnesia. Sometimes the lost memories before an event are only seconds or minutes, occasionally a few years and, less often, everything.’

Kim allowed the breath she’d been holding to escape. ‘Will it come back?’

He moved his shoulders in an up-and-down motion. ‘I can’t say yet, Inspector. In many of the cases I’ve worked on, the memories return like a jigsaw, randomly. She could recall something from last week and then minutes later remember something from when she was seven years old. We have many more questions to consider in the coming days. We need to assess the true extent of the damage.’

Kim was confused. ‘Isn’t that clear already?’ The woman had no memory. What more was there to learn?

‘Ah, there is a difference between memory making and memory storage,’ he said and paused. ‘Imagine there is a fire in a pottery and all the pots are destroyed. Your stock is gone, what has already been made is no more. But what of the potter’s wheel? Does the equipment still work or is that gone too?’

Kim got it. ‘She hasn’t been conscious long enough for you to find out?’

Doctor Singh smiled. ‘Exactly. Short-term memory can be checked after about thirty minutes. Long-term memory demands recall after a day, two days, a week or more.’

Kim shook her head, reeling.

Already she felt sorry for the battle Isobel had yet to fight.

‘Thank you for your time, Doctor Singh,’ she said.

‘You’re welcome and now you may see her.’

Kim hesitated before stepping into the ward. She was already on tiptoe to avoid her biker-boot heels thudding her arrival.

She took a deep breath and turned into the bay.

The first thing Kim noticed was the bed next to Isobel was now empty. In this ward you didn’t ask why.

The second thing she noticed was Duncan gently helping Isobel to feed herself.

Kim approached the bed with a smile and touched Duncan gently on the shoulder before speaking.

‘Hi, Isobel, I’m Detective Inspector Stone and would like a word, if that’s okay?’

After her chat with the doctor she wasn’t sure how much she was going to get.

‘She prefers “Izzy”,’ Duncan offered with a smile.

Isobel looked from one to the other, not speaking.

Her face was pale and her eyes were dark. Her eyelids appeared heavy with fatigue. Kim could only wonder at the strength it had taken for her to fight back from wherever she had been.

Kim stepped around to the other side of Isobel. Duncan was perched on the bed, so she moved the requisite easy chair closer, taking care to lift not drag.

‘Would you like me to leave?’ Duncan asked.

Kim shook her head. He was helping Isobel lift her right hand to her mouth from a bowl of thin soup on the hospital table.

Isobel tried to lift her left hand to offer a handshake. Kim touched the hand and laid it back down.

She leaned forwards, resting her arms on her knees.

‘Izzy, I understand that you don’t remember anything, but I have to ask, okay?’

She nodded as Duncan guided her hand once more to her mouth. The effort of swallowing the murky liquid seemed to take a great deal of effort.

‘If you get too tired, just let me know.’

‘I don’t want to close my eyes,’ she said.

Her voice was weak, barely more than a whisper. Had Kim been further away she wouldn’t have heard a word.

Kim could also understand her reluctance to close her eyes. Perhaps she was frightened of returning to her comatose state or even not waking up at all.

Duncan held her hand and scooped another spoonful of soup before helping her guide it to her mouth.

Again she swallowed with effort and held up her left hand to signal no more.

Duncan put the spoon back into the dish but continued to hold her hand.

‘Isobel, I know this might be difficult for you to take in, but your injuries are not from any kind of accident.’

She swallowed and nodded. In the short time she’d been awake she had probably already worked that out.

‘We’re pretty sure you were abducted and kept against your will. Your head injury was supposed to kill you.’

A cry sounded from her throat. Kim placed a reassuring hand on Isobel’s arm.