The nurse had not needed to offer the stern look accompanied by the finger to her lips for Kim to understand that the ICU ward was full of desperately sick people. It wasn’t the first time she had visited. And she was betting it probably wouldn’t be the last.
There was an attitude, an ethos, in the ICU ward that reminded her of the library. Everything was performed calmly and as quietly as possible, the interminable silence broken only by the low hum of the life-saving equipment stationed next to most of the beds.
‘How is he?’ she whispered.
The man’s young face was smooth in repose. His black hair stood up in tufts and part of his short beard had been shaved to allow for stitches and a dressing. Kim easily recalled the trauma sustained to the body of his companion. Mr Dhinsa had been the lucky one, although he might not realise that for some time yet.
‘Coming and going every few minutes,’ Travis answered. ‘So far, he’s asked me where he is and why. His lower legs are in a bit of a state,’ he said, looking down the bed to the plaster casts that stretched from the toes up to the knees of both legs. ‘Doctor says he’s off the critical list now they’ve ruled out permanent spinal injury. They’re dosing him with steroids.’
Kim had a horrible thought as Mr Dhinsa opened his eyes and looked straight at Travis.
‘Where’s Trisha?’
And there it was. He had been so badly out of it he had no idea.
‘Don’t think about that right now, Mr Dhinsa. Just concentrate on getting—’
Travis stopped speaking as Mr Dhinsa closed his eyes once more.
Kim stepped around to the other side of the bed and sat down on the plastic chair. It had the potential to be a very long night.
Mr Dhinsa opened his eyes again.
‘Did you save me?’ he asked.
Travis nodded.
The eyes closed.
‘Are you going to try and ask him anything?’ Kim asked. The last they’d heard, his partner had been pushed in front of that delivery truck and the only person seen around was him.
‘Yeah if he stays with me long enough. It’s a bit like trying to have a conversation with you.’
Kim was surprised to see that the comment hadn’t been accompanied by the usual hard line to his lips. Surely he hadn’t been trying to have a chuckle with her?
Eyes open.
‘Mr Dhinsa, was Trisha pushed?’ Travis asked, getting his own question in first.
‘Blue van,’ he answered.
‘He’s too confused,’ Travis said, looking her way. ‘The van was white.’
Kim shook her head. ‘He’s just groggy and fighting the drugs. Try him again.’
Eyes open.
‘Trish got in the way,’ he said, as his eyes rolled. And then rolled back again.
‘He wants to tell us, Travis,’ Kim realised. His short answers were revealing in sequence as much as he could manage at a time.
He was trying to tell them exactly what happened.
The shadow of a nurse loomed behind them. ‘I think that’s enough for now,’ she said, quietly.
‘Please, just another minute or two,’ Kim said. She didn’t want this man to have expended all this energy for nothing.
‘Please…’ Travis added.
‘Two minutes,’ she agreed, glancing at his vital signs on the machine.
‘Men tried to take…’ Mr Dhinsa said.
Eyes closed.
Kim’s gaze met with Travis’s across the bed. They were running out of time. They had to help him put this together.
Kim turned to Mr Dhinsa and hoped he could hear her before they lost him to sleep altogether.
‘Mr Dhinsa, are you saying there were men in a blue van who tried to take your girlfriend?’ Kim asked, corralling his previous statements.
He nodded and then shook his head as his eyes opened once again.
‘No, Trisha stopped… they were trying to take me.’
SIXTY-TWO
Stacey paced her small lounge once more. Since returning home she had cooked, thrown food away, tried to vacuum, tried to watch television, walk, stand and sit.
‘Damn it,’ she shouted, kicking at a dining chair. The screech of metal on the laminate flooring was satisfying.
She collapsed onto the sofa and buried her head in her hands. What the hell had she been thinking?
Part of her wanted to ring the boss and offload, confess to all the stupid things she’d done, take the bollocking and then move on.
Yeah, that might help her right now. She’d feel better once she’d passed all responsibility up the chain, but it wouldn’t help her in the long-term. Not only would she be demonstrating that she couldn’t use her own initiative effectively but that she couldn’t sort the worms once she’d opened the bloody can.
‘Damn it,’ she said, again. She’d involved herself in a case that hadn’t needed solving. She’d invaded the personal space of a grieving mother, taken the suicide victim’s property, not logged it in officially, and now it had been stolen.
Stacey shook her head. At this rate they were already preparing her cell in Guantanamo.
The tempting factor in making the call was the knowledge that, after a fit of rage, her boss would help her to sort this whole mess out. She’d witnessed it with Dawson a hundred times. But Kim had never had to do it with her. Dawson was the one who fucked up. They all expected it. Hell, even Dawson expected it. But not her. Stacey was the good girl, teacher’s pet, as Dawson sometimes called her. And she was. She enjoyed being good old reliable Stacey. She prided herself on being no bother to anyone.
But she trusted her boss, implicitly. She would know what to do.
Stacey picked up her phone and swiped. She scrolled down to the contact called ‘boss’. Her thumb hovered above the handset icon. She pictured the disappointment on the boss’s face as she recited the litany of mistakes.
Stacey threw the phone on the sofa. No. Whatever she’d got herself into, she would have to resolve it on her own.
SIXTY-THREE
‘So, what the hell is he talking about?’ Kim asked as they left the ward.
Travis shook his head. ‘Your guess is probably as good as mine,’ he said, rubbing his forehead. He turned left, and she turned right. She enjoyed the irony of the moment.
‘We’ll pick it up in the morning,’ he said, and he was right. It was almost ten and it looked like Barney was going to be having a sleepover with Charlie from two doors down.
‘Okay, see you in the morning,’ Kim said, offering a half wave as she turned away.
She made a detour to the cafeteria to grab a strong, long coffee, and spotted a familiar ombre head bent down studiously.
Kim grabbed a coffee from the vending machine and stood opposite Doctor A.
‘Mind if I join you?’ Kim asked, tapping the wooden chair.
‘Of course not,’ Doctor A said, smiling. ‘What are you doing here at this time?’
‘I could ask you the same thing,’ Kim said, before nodding towards her phone. ‘I don’t want to disturb your work.’
Doctor A turned the phone towards her. ‘Pet Rescue game, my saviour.’
‘Really?’ Kim asked. It wasn’t what she’d imagined the scientist doing when she wasn’t working.
‘Well, if you want the truth, I prefer to read about quantum physics and the theory of the universe in my spare time but just now and again the pandas are calling me.’