Authors: Kathryn Fox
‘I hope he’ll be okay,’ the florist said as she put the card in her apron pocket.
For whatever reason, it seemed pretty obvious. The mystery man didn’t want to be found, and knew exactly how to stay anonymous. That made him even more disturbing.
Stopping at the cafeteria, Anya bought a vegetarian Turkish bread and took the lift to the third floor. With the door of room twenty-three ajar, she entered.
Briony Lovitt lay staring at the ceiling.
‘May we talk for a few minutes? It’s Dr. Crichton.’
No response.
‘I brought real food again, in case you’re hungry.’
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Briony glanced in the direction of the food and looked away again.
‘I’ll put it beside you, if you like,’ Anya offered.
‘What do you
want
from me?’
Anya moved a little closer. ‘You’ve had a terrible time and I want to help.’
‘I don’t need your help.’
‘At least, eat something. Some suffering can’t be avoided.
But if someone throws you relief from another hospital meal’ –
she bent forward – ‘for God’s sake, don’t pass it up.’
Slowly, Briony turned her eyes toward the peace offering.
With one hand she took a half and tore off a small piece with her other hand. She seemed to be savoring the sight and smell of it.
‘How are you feeling?’ Anya asked.
‘How am I supposed to feel? Stuck flat on my back, crippled, having to answer stupid, banal questions. How would you feel if every second person gave you perky platitudes? The regular nurses are full of them, telling me to be cheerful, no matter what’s happened. Just like Polly-fucking-anna. Except in Disneyland, she walked again.’ The woman rolled her eyes.
‘Then there are the relief nurses. They look at me with pity.
“Poor cripple, let’s whisper around her in case she gets upset.”
I don’t know which is worse. They all go home on both legs, while I’m stuck here.’
Anya pulled the curtain around the bed and forced Briony to make eye contact. She’d never been good at counseling and usually either resorted to giving medical information or sat silently. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what this woman had gone through, or what she felt, and didn’t pretend to.
‘The emergency doctor might have thought you wouldn’t walk again, but I’ve read your notes. Tests show there’s a ninety percent chance your spinal cord will recover and you’ll regain use and feeling in your legs. You’ve suffered a type of spinal shock from the fall and the swelling needs to go down before anyone knows for sure what the prognosis is.’
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‘The bits I can feel are painful, but I don’t care about that.’
Briony chewed a bite of the bread.
‘I met Georgia the other day.’
Briony froze and seemed to hold a swallow.
‘She’s the most beautiful child.’ Anya studied the woman for a reaction – anything.
‘She’s better off without me.’ The mother turned her face away.
‘You can’t really believe that?’
The door opened and the humming of a floor polisher became louder. The cleaner pushed the machine under the curtain, defeating the point of privacy. During her resident years, Anya had argued many times that if the curtains was closed, cleaners should come back later. She was usually met with com-ments like, ‘We’ve all got our jobs to do. Yours isn’t any more important than anybody else’s.’ Staff too frequently lost sight of the fact that hospitals were there to care for patients.
‘You don’t know anything about me.’
Anya pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat. ‘You’re right.
You are a stranger, but I know what a mother feels. I have a son the same age and it aches to be away from your children. You’d die for them.’
‘That’s why she’s better off the way things are.’
Anya poured water from a jug into a plastic cup and offered it, not wanting to cause any more distress. It would take time to gain Briony’s trust. She hadn’t said much, but at least she had spoken. The art of medicine came in listening to what people
didn’t
say.
‘Where do you think you’ll go when you’re discharged?’
Briony took a sip and ignored her interviewer.
‘The herpes infection you had when you were admitted was pretty severe. Is there any chance you’d had episodes before?’
‘Is that what this is about?’ Briony almost spilled the drink.
‘Julie doesn’t have to worry. It’s got nothing to do with her.’
‘It’s my job to notify anyone who has come in sexual contact with the virus. I realize this is very personal, but it’s 258
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standard practice to try to curtail the spread. The type of herpes you have is resistant to drugs and quite difficult to treat.’
Briony didn’t comment.
Anya decided to take a risk. ‘Other women, in similar circumstances to you, had the same type of infection, only they were all found dead. I have to ask you this: Were you sexually assaulted?’
Briony closed her eyes. ‘No. I didn’t refuse, if that’s what you mean. Happy now?’
‘I’m not judging you. Please understand that.’
A cheery woman with a clipboard knocked on the door and poked her head around the curtain.
‘TV rental, would you like your set connected?’
Briony shot her an icy look. ‘Leave me alone!’
‘Okay, I’ll be back tomorrow if you change your mind.’ The woman rolled her eyes and left.
So much for privacy.
‘I don’t think your fall was an accident,’ Anya said.
Briony clenched the bedclothes. ‘You still don’t get it, do you?’
‘Then tell me,’ Anya pleaded. ‘Help me to understand.’
After a long silence, Briony began to speak. ‘He took me up to the mountains, for a trip out, he said, somewhere private where no one would see us. Suddenly, he changed, like he did in the beginning. I don’t know what I did to make him so mad.
It was like his whole face was different. His eyes turned black and so full of hate. I didn’t know what to do. I tried making things okay again but he just got madder. I panicked and tried to run away, something I promised him I would never do.’
‘What happened then?’ Anya almost whispered.
‘I slipped on a rock and fell onto a small ledge. All I could do was cling to a branch above my head. I begged him to help me but he just stared, like I was some dumb animal. I could feel my hand slipping. It was freezing. I kept begging him but he just stood there, staring.
‘Then he said the time had come to make the choice. I’d done KATHRYN FOX
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this to myself, betrayed my lover, child, everything I was supposed to believe in. I didn’t deserve to have a child. She didn’t deserve someone pathetic and weak like me in her life.’
Briony sounded detached. She could have been discussing a grocery list.
‘He was right. Everything he said was true. He told me my daughter would be better off with me dead. Never having to face a mother who had abandoned her, or deal with the grief of rejection. If I didn’t go with him, it would have been someone else. If I died now, Georgia wouldn’t remember. That way, she’d suffer less.’
She twisted the sheet tightly around her finger. The tip turned a dark red, then blue. ‘Then he put his hands out to help me up. After saying all that.’
‘None of what he said was true,’ Anya stressed. ‘He was lying. Some cruel, sick game.’
Briony took a breath and winced. ‘He was right. Georgia is better off never knowing me. I failed her. And what about Julie? I heard her voice outside when she came. Julie doesn’t forgive, ever. So what do I have left? My business can’t have survived. Health, I don’t have that. I have nothing.’
She began to cry. Tears turned to sobs and Anya, tempted to call a nurse, hesitated and put her hand on Briony’s forehead.
She sat silently, stroking the poor woman’s forehead. She’d endured a hell of a trauma, but implied she was a willing participant, in sex, at least. A while later, the sobs subsided.
‘I have to ask. Who is he?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t even know his name.’
Anya held her hand, too. ‘What about where he lives?’
‘I don’t know. He said it was a surprise and put a blindfold on my eyes.’
Anya wiped Briony’s face with a hand towel from beside the bed. ‘He played mind games with you. You’re not the first one this has happened to.’ She realized how callous this might have sounded but kept on. ‘Did you meet any other people when you were with him?’
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‘No, he said I’d meet the others one day.’
Others? Anya wondered, was he part of a group, or was that another lie to manipulate women?
Briony closed her eyes. ‘I don’t want to talk anymore.
Could you please ask the nurse if I can have some pain tablets?’
‘Sure. Do you mind if I ask two more things? What made you go with him?’
Briony turned her head away. ‘He said his baby was inside, and he’d accidentally locked the keys in the car. I went to help.
There wasn’t really a baby.’
So that’s how he got women into his car. From there he could restrain, drug, or do anything to them, without anyone else knowing or seeing, even in a shopping-center car park.
‘How did you finally get away?’
Briony swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t get away. I let go.’
After leaving the hospital, Anya called the nursing home to ask about Lucy Tait’s birth certificate. The director confirmed that Lucinda Abbott’s mother had remarried after Phil’s death from lung disease. Kel Tait adopted his stepdaughter, which was how she became known as Lucy Tait.
Anya felt drained from the visit with Briony. Driving back to Annandale gave her time to think and unwind without interruption. Lucy’s mother’s postmortem showed death from a massive stroke, and no sign of lung disease or infiltration with fibrous material. Either she had been extremely lucky, or had never been exposed to the fibers, which meant they could have been inhaled somewhere other than the family house.
Phil Abbott could have brought them home on his work clothes and transferred them to his young child through cuddling. Anya doubted that, as the mother would have been exposed when doing the washing, and she died with clear lungs, according to the records. Alternatively, Lucy could have spent time with her father while he was exposed. Maybe he had a workshop somewhere. She made a mental note to e-mail Dr.
Rosenbaum again, in case he recalled any more details.
Near the intersection with Old Windsor Road, her mobile phone rang. She pulled into a side street to answer, cursing 262
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herself for not bringing the hands-free set. Northern Base Hospital had a woman in Casualty, claiming to have been raped by a group of men. Ordinarily, Dr. Beattie would handle this in office hours, but she’d been called to a family emergency and requested that Anya Crichton cover for her.
Anya checked her watch. With heavy traffic, it would take her over an hour to get there, even with the M2 tollway. She agreed and explained she’d be there as soon as possible.
Next, she dialed Elaine, who gave her a series of messages.
Dan Brody wanted to talk to her but was in court all day. He asked that she keep trying him.
Sabina Prior from Legal Aid called to say thanks for the report about the alleged child abuse case, and Mick Hayes was available for a drum lesson this afternoon. He’d be teaching in the area and could manage a home lesson at 4:00 pm today, or on Monday.
As usual, she hadn’t practiced or done her theory homework. Every lesson, her teacher would politely say that at least she did him the courtesy of making different mistakes each time. She asked Elaine to call and rebook for Monday afternoon. That would give her time to practice, knowing that with Ben around over the weekend, the chances of playing music seriously were zero.
Finally, Martin wanted to know if he could bring Ben early on Friday. He was going away with Nita. Anya dialed his mobile and left a voicemail message. She planned to spend all day working in the office and would be happy to see Ben any time.
Her phone rang again. Elaine had forgotten to mention a fax from Professor Hammond. It said the results Anya had requested were back. He was 98 percent certain the viruses from the deceased patients and the inpatient came from the same source. Elaine complained that he hadn’t mentioned names and hoped Anya understood what the message meant.
Hammond had wisely omitted the names of the women, in case the fax mistakenly went to another number. His commit-KATHRYN FOX
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ment to confidentiality impressed her, and she wanted to respect that.
‘I know exactly what he’s talking about. Thanks, Elaine.’
The herpes cultured from Fatima Deab, Alison Blakehurst and Briony Lovitt had the same molecular structure. It confirmed that the women had had sexual contact with the same source. She still needed more for a police investigation, especially what had happened to Briony while she was missing.
Otherwise there’d be no chance of reinvestigating each woman’s death.
Little doubt remained that Briony had had intercourse with the same man. If only she’d open up and talk about what had happened.
Anya turned the car around and headed for Northern Base Hospital. She’d let Kate know the herpes results tonight. In the morning she’d go back and find out whatever else Briony knew.
Anya arrived at Western District Hospital at 8:30 am. With nursing handover finished, most of the showers and baths were out of the way. On surgical wards, the doctors did the rounds before or after theater lists, which meant she had the best chance of talking to Briony without interruption. At the desk, the nurse from the other day stood labeling blood vials.
‘Good morning, Doctor. Briony Lovitt’s just had some blood taken. Took two goes because of the mood she’s in this morning.’
‘Is everything okay medically?’ Anya tried to read the pathology request.
‘She refused breakfast, which isn’t unusual, but I thought she looked a bit yellow. I paged the resident and he wanted her liver function checked. He’s in theater all day and said he’d duck out to see her in between cases. Otherwise, Briony’s her normal rude self. You’d think she was the Queen the way she dismissed me just then.’ Looking up at a whiteboard that allowed the nursing staff to communicate nonurgent reminders to doctors without constantly paging them, she added, ‘I’ll write it there as well, so the resident doesn’t forget.’