Despite her fear, Alex was not yet ready to give in to it. She had resolved not to fight it, but instead to let it in in the hope that she would literally be frightened to death, then this could finally be over. But she couldn’t. She had to believe she still had a chance.
‘You won’t get away with it, Maggie. When they find me, they’ll come looking for you. They’ll find a connection that will lead them to you. Oliver will lead them to you. They’ll find out he was your boyfriend.’
Maggie laughed but the sound was false. ‘Oliver was an actor. His private life was his own. No one will connect me to him. He loved me and wanted to protect me, so he kept me a secret.’
Alex wanted to hurt and shock her; anything to bring her out of her present mindset. ‘He didn’t love you! He was probably using you. You have money, Maggie. A house worth a fortune. You told me yourself he only came to your house to use your parents’ studio. He was using you! And the only reason he kept you secret was so that he could try it on with other women.’
The sharp click of the staple gun sucked the newly drawn breath back out of her lungs. Maggie slammed it against her skull and fired it again and again.
‘You slut. You lying little slut. If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll staple it shut.’
Tears drenched Alex’s eyes and through them she blurrily saw Maggie’s face. Bravely she fought to carry on taunting her. She would rather rile her and take the chance of being killed in an instant than put up with this slow wait for death. ‘Richard Sickert will connect me to you. He’ll tell the police you sent me to him. He’ll lead them to you, Maggie.’
This time Maggie’s laugh sounded genuine. ‘You fool. Why wouldn’t I send you to get professional help? Everybody knows you’ve been falling apart. Dr Sickert will only confirm what everyone already believes. That you’re mad.’ Her grin looked manic and she spoke in a high, sickly-girly voice: ‘Oh Maggie, I’m so scared. Help me, Maggie. Help me.’ She prodded Alex’s forehead with a hard finger. ‘Why Oliver ever wasted his time with you I don’t know. You really are quite stupid. But none of that matters any more. He’s dead, and by tomorrow you will be too. Now, I have a lot to prepare. I want you to lie here and rest. You’ll need all your strength.’
She smiled pleasantly. ‘Did I tell you what I have planned?’
All Alex could do was stare. Maggie had to be mad to behave like this. Her hatred was completely out of control.
She realised now that the disintegration of her life had been engineered. Maggie Fielding had deliberately entered her life to destroy her.
‘They’ll come looking for you, Maggie.’
‘No, they won’t. You told them I was a man.’
*
In the hospital canteen, which had been opened by the site manager especially for this meeting, a large number of police officers were gathered. Greg brought them to attention.
‘Settle down and listen up,’ he said loudly.
Laura Best was at the front, still looking wide awake and immaculate. She was fuelled with adrenaline at the prospect of the hunt.
The site manager had urgently summoned the chief executive, and architectural plans of the hospital had been obtained. The chief fire officer of the city was also in attendance as he knew the grounds of the hospital better than most.
He had commandeered a canteen table to lay out the drawings. When he was ready he would speak to the officers about the layout and then Greg would sort them into groups to begin the search. He had finally accepted that Laura Best was right, that Alex Taylor probably was hiding somewhere on site. She had the advantage of knowing where to hide. The hospital grounds and buildings made for a difficult search. The place was like a small town.
Before going into the canteen, his mobile rang and Greg was surprised to hear Seb Morrisey’s voice and the clear thrum of helicopter blades rotating.
‘What are you doing, Seb? You can’t get in the way here. What are you doing up there flying?’
‘We got a floater,’ he answered coldly.
Greg’s breath caught in this throat. ‘Is it Alex?’
‘No,’ Seb answered, less hostile. ‘Male, middle-aged – they just retrieved his body from the river. Said he’s wearing military dog tags, so you should get an ID.’
Grey was relieved it wasn’t her.
‘But I’m staying up here now to help search for her.’
‘You still can’t get in the way, Seb. This is police business.’
‘You’re wrong, Turner.’ The anger in the pilot’s voice was clear. ‘Alex wouldn’t harm a fly. You’ve got this so wrong if even for one minute you let yourself believe she’s your killer. Fiona Woods was like a sister to her, and her killer has got Alex.’
‘We have to find her, Seb. We need to question her,’ Greg said calmly. ‘And if you hear from her you need to let me know.’
‘I judged you wrong, Turner. I thought you were a sound bloke, I thought you had a bit of vision. I’m staying up here and don’t try and stop me. Alex is in danger and you’re too stupid to realise it.’
The man’s opinion – not the personal stuff, but his thoughts on what was happening – shook Greg. Supposing he was right and Alex Taylor was not hiding, but was trapped by the real killer. The empty pill packets found in her car could have been planted. She could be dead, and everyone who believed her guilty could be wrong. Uncertainty and indecision weighed heavily on him. But he couldn’t afford to blind himself with emotion, or hide from the truth any longer.
He had watched yesterday afternoon’s CCTV footage again, and had nearly overlooked the porter pushing a trolley along the corridor. He had spoken to the man not long ago and been told the loaded trolley was carrying dirty instruments and laundry bags. It was normal practice at that time of the day to use a large cage trolley to take the load away; the dumb waiter was only used when in need of a quick return, usually for a particular or specialised type of equipment. The porter was filmed at just gone six and Fiona Woods was seen on the first floor near main theatres at twenty past. Alex Taylor may have known of this practice and could have taken the chance, guessing it might not be used for a while, to use the dumb waiter to hide Fiona Woods’s body. According to Nathan Bell, she was still in her coat when he called on her in her flat later that evening. Maybe the purpose of the coat was to hide Fiona Woods’s blood.
But the most damning piece of evidence of all was the one Peter Spencer handed him a half hour ago. Found in Alex Taylor’s locker was her mobile.
The last message was sent to Fiona: ‘Meet me in theatre. I found the operating room. Tell no one.’ It was sent at two minutes after six.
With this last crucial piece of evidence he could no longer ignore the truth.