“Are you going to see her?”
“Yes, I’m going to her office now. Could you please have that information ready for me as soon as possible? Thank you. I’ll probably need to see you again. Can I have your home number too?”
Frank nodded and wrote his home number on one of his cards, then passed it over to Meakin who had stood to leave.
Shaking his hand, Frank watched him leave the office and then sat down heavily in his chair.
What was going to happen next?
Shaking his head, Frank stood and walked over to the window staring thoughtfully at the buildings below.
******
Inspector Meakin knocked and entered Anne’s set of offices. Sam looked up with surprise. He knew something must have happened, why else would he visit? With a feeling of dread he welcomed the Inspector then knocked on Anne’s door.
“I’d like you both to hear this,” Meakin stated as he walked into Anne’s office.
She offered him a chair and Sam sat in the other. They were both facing Anne who sat at her desk.
Good or bad news? Maybe they’ve caught Alan’s killer or Jenny’s stalker?
The stress was beginning to show on Anne’s face as Meakin prepared to tell them of his discoveries. He related all that he had told Frank.
“One thing we
are
sure about,” he continued, “is that these killings are by the same person – the stalking too, most likely. So you can see, Doctor Blake, it’s thought that Tadmore is the link, and more importantly, you.”
Anne’s face, though pale before, had gone chalk-white. She forced herself to look at Meakin, trying to understand his words more clearly.
Sam immediately rose and fetched a glass of water, handing her the glass then supporting her shoulders.
Sipping the drink, she looked gratefully at Sam, reassuring him that she was fine.
He took his seat next to Meakin.
Clearly agitated, she whispered, “Why me?”
“Looking at the pattern of events – although not conclusive, not even every case is specifically linked – your name is the most common factor. We have found out that three of your patients were among those murdered in the stalker cases I’d told you about. I didn’t want to say so before I was sure. Missus Armstrong we know was your patient and Alan Burgess was your colleague. Now we have found Miss Chambers – evidence points to you in all cases, you must be the link. Of course we mustn’t forget Missus King and the trouble that has surrounded her.”
“What makes you think it’s me – why not Frank or any other doctor at the hospital? Do you think I’m responsible?”
Anne was too alarmed to speak calmly.
He must be wrong.
She felt the panic her patients must feel when in trouble and tried to concentrate on her breathing.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Inspector, Anne wouldn’t kill, she’s a doctor for goodness sake!” Sam cried.
“Please, you didn’t listen to what I was saying. Doctor Blake, we think that you are somehow connected to these deaths.”
He held up his hand to ward off further interruption, continuing. “But I never said you were responsible.”
Meakin’s matter-of-fact way of dealing with people calmed the situation.
Sam spoke, realising what Meakin was telling them.
“Anne’s in danger, isn’t she?”
“I haven’t said that either. But considering the facts, I think you should be alert to anything unusual. The reasons behind these killings are still very vague. It certainly is someone who has medical knowledge, someone who likes to watch people – it could be to frighten and weaken their prey. Your friend’s case seems the most unusual. If it is the same person responsible for these killings, then it all points to a hunter enjoying the game. Why else would they take so long? A year is a long time.
“If the disappearance of the girls is part of the same game, then it was wise the Kings have gone away for a while.
“My feeling is that the perpetrator has stepped up the ante.”
Meakin spoke quietly and directly.
Some of Anne’s colour had returned. She looked both at Sam, who could see the worry in her eyes, then Meakin, saying, “Inspector, what am I supposed to do? How can I help? Poor Amy, she was always so hard on herself.”
“We’d like some details of Miss Chambers’ state of mind; it may help our investigation.”
“Because of patient confidentiality I shouldn’t really say much, but I suppose I must. She had no family and nothing can harm her now. I want you to catch him, whoever it is.
“I had diagnosed Amy as having Multiple Personality Disorder – MPD. I found her to have two personalities within her. One was a quiet home-loving girl who was afraid of going out – she, unfortunately, would harm herself under stress. The other loved to party and take risks – you can see the total clash between them. At first I thought it was schizophrenia but the personalities were too distinct, quite unaware of each other.”
Anne stopped to think about the lovely young woman who was now dead.
“She seems to have been discharged quite soon. According to our records she was admitted to Tadmore about six months ago after an incident in one of our cells – she had been caught stealing,” Meakin stated.
“Amy had made remarkable progress. We’d managed to get to the root of her problem surprisingly quickly. Usually when that happens, the suffering begins to heal...the personalities merge to make a whole. So, on an outpatient basis we agreed to let her go home. I’d actually asked my secretary at the hospital to find out why Amy hadn’t made her appointments. I was to see her Thursday afternoons – I’d been so busy that I never followed it through.”
Anne’s voice broke.
“Could you tell me why she had developed this MPD?” Meakin asked.
He could see Anne was holding on by a thread, fighting to keep in control.
“Not in great detail. I can say the MPD is caused by extreme trauma – usually in childhood. Amy was fighting her demons – it’s terrible that she’s dead, such a waste.”
Anne broke down this time.
Sam came to her side, saying to Meakin, “Is that enough? You can see how upset she is. Can the questions wait for now?”
Meakin responded in his usual way.
“That will be all for now. I’ll call if I need to ask you anything else. I’m sorry to have upset you, Doctor Blake. However, you need to be on your guard. Though we have no proof, and it’s only my intuition at work for the most part, I feel I must ask you to take care. Whoever is committing these crimes, definitely has something to do with Tadmore Hospital, or at least has access. Please look through your files, there may be something we can work from. Thank you, Doctor, I’ll see myself out.”
Anne nodded, her tears were subsiding but she couldn’t rid herself of the awful lump that had grown inside.
She clung onto Sam, who was still standing at her side.
After Meakin had left, Sam pulled her over to the sofa, sat her down, made strong coffee and encouraged her to drink.
“Listen, you only have one more patient today and I’m sure they’ll reschedule. You should go home. This is all so terrible.”
“No, Sam, I’ll be fine. It’s too late to cancel, anyway. It was just the shock, poor Amy. She was healing so well. After years of suffering and then…to die like that. She was such a sweet person, who would want to…?”
With determination, she wiped away the tears, drank the rest of her coffee and stood to be ready for the last appointment of the day.
“Well, okay, but I’m coming home with you tonight. You heard what the Inspector said, you have to take care. This killer could strike anywhere. You do seem to be involved somehow.”
“I’d enjoy your company. But really there’s no need. I haven’t felt anyone watching me. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”
She walked over to her desk, extracting the relevant file. She put her notepad and tape recorder on the table by the couch – Mr Avery liked to use this part of the room.
She felt much calmer as she tried to rationalise all that had happened.
Everything would be okay. Jenny and David were out of the way. She couldn’t think how she could possibly be linked to these murders – she wasn’t in any danger, it was absurd.
Smiling at Sam, she put her hand on his arm.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. Now, Mister Avery will be here soon, go to your desk to welcome him.”
“Okay, but I mean it about tonight.”
“Very well – but you can cook!”
“It’s a deal!” Sam said, as he walked out of her office.
******
Frank was sitting in the medical file room filtering his way through a heap of old patients’ notes.
After patients leave, their notes were printed for hard copy from the computer and filed.
As Frank perused the files, he was making notes on anything that could be useful. Luckily, he’d had some free time; his last patient had cancelled, so he had taken advantage to fulfil his curiosity.
So far, nothing had caught his attention.
He flicked through some more then suddenly noticed something.
But no, that was impossible.
Grabbing the wad of files he raced out of the room.
“Hi, Frank, what’s the rush?”
It was Barbara; she was at the nurses’ station filling in yet more patient details.
Frank stopped in his tracks.
“Hello, Barbara, how are you?”
He wanted to get to his office; there was something not quite right here. He was probably wrong, but he wanted to check it out. No, it’d probably be best to take them home to think, make sure.
“I’m okay; you look worried, is everything alright?”
She saw the pile of folders he was carrying.
“You look busy, can I help?”
He looked positively harassed.
“No, it’s fine. It’s just some research I’m doing; it may not come to anything. I must go. Let’s have coffee tomorrow – Anne too, she’s here in the afternoon.”
He was certainly distracted.
“Well, if you’re sure you don’t need any help.”
Barbara’s smile was wide.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, ‘bye.”
Frank hurried along the corridor.
He didn’t want to say anything until he was sure.
He’d ring Meakin from home. Amanda was coming over later. It was the longest relationship he’d had in a long time – he was surprised. Maybe he’d talk it over with her first? When he reached his office, he put the pile on his desk and picked up the ‘phone to call Anne.
She wasn’t at her office, so he left a message on her answering machine at home before picking up the files and heading out of the door once more.
******
When she and Sam had arrived at her place, Anne automatically pressed the machine for messages. There were three. One from Jenny to say they were having a great time and her number where they could be reached. The second was from Meakin, could she call him in the morning as he wished to speak to her about something? The third was Frank saying he was sure he’d found something in the patient files and would talk to her tomorrow at the hospital.
{20}
It wasn’t until Anne arrived at Tadmore that she heard the devastating news.
She’d risen early to have a morning run, showered, changed and breakfasted. She’d had a fun evening with Sam, he had cooked spaghetti – the staple of a single-man’s diet – they’d played cards, talked and listened to music. It was just what she’d needed to refuel after such a gruesome time.
Thursday mornings were usually spent closeted in her study at home. Time to type patient notes, double-checking diagnoses, read medical journals, and make necessary calls. She always turned down her answer machine so she wouldn’t be disturbed. She’d changed and left for her afternoon’s work without checking it.
Her mood had lightened; the evening had done her good.
As she walked into the hospital the air was electric.
Something had happened.
The receptionist at the main desk looked at her strangely as she picked up her badge.
The knot was back in her stomach.
Her body was tense as she travelled in the lift to the seventh floor.
The nurses stopped chatting as she made her approach. One of them was crying. Not wanting to know the answer, she asked what was wrong.
“It’s Doctor Miller,” one of the nurses told her.