The Surgeon's Blade (18 page)

“How lovely! I’d heard they were making a comeback,” Libby replied, only half paying attention to his words. So that explained the woman’s tan! She lived in Cyprus. When they had first met, Robert had mentioned someone who lived in Cyprus and was connected to him. Wasn’t she a cousin or something?

As Robert stood up to leave, Libby suddenly felt downright miserable. For some reason, she didn’t want to spend the rest of the day alone. “Will you go on your own then?”

He cast another look at his watch. “I don’t suppose so. No, don’t get up I’ll see myself out. Bye, Libby.”

She was left holding the empty coffee cups as Robert walked back into the house. As she heard the door close behind him, she felt even more desolate and couldn’t understand why.

Giving herself a scolding, she followed in Robert’s footsteps back into the kitchen. She rinsed the cups and popped them in the dishwasher, wondering whether to give Nigel a ring. She was intrigued to discover he was back in Southampton He had been quite emphatic when he had told her he was needed in London. Perhaps the meeting had been cancelled at the last minute. If so, why hadn’t he telephoned her?

Libby picked up her mobile and dialled his number. While she waited to be connected, she wandered into her living room. Picking up the television remote control she flicked it on for the local news. Nigel’s telephone rang and rang, and while she waited, she watched the latest information concerning the assault on the nurse. With a shock, she heard the description of the attacker;
thin and dark, possibly late thirties to early forties and dressed in a doctor’s white coat.
There was some mention that the assailant could have been wearing a wig, so the hair colour wasn’t guaranteed. He was wearing a white doctor’s coat…surely the attacker wasn’t a doctor? Libby was at first horrified to think that a doctor – a man of healing – could be the suspect. Then reason took over. It was, after all, simple to obtain a white lab coat and impersonate any doctor. There were many incidents in history where members of the medical profession turned out to be charlatans and murderers.

Libby was just about to cancel the call to Nigel when it was answered.

“Hello?”

Libby didn’t recognise the male voice at the other end and assumed she had misdialled. “I’m sorry, I believe I have a wrong number. Sorry to trouble you.” She was about to cancel the call when the voice replied.

“Who are you calling?”

“Nigel St John.” She paused. “Is he there?”

There was a pause from the other end, and she thought she caught a brief muffled comment before the voice returned. “No, I’m afraid not. We have this mobile in our possession and want to return it to its owner. Perhaps you could give me more details please? Nigel who and where can I find him?”

Libby had a rapid think. She had no right to give out Nigel’s personal details. Her mind whirled as she wondered what she should do. “Er, just where did you find his phone?” she replied. “And who are you?”

Again, there was a slight pause before the voice said, “This is Detective Inspector Collins. The phone was handed in at Southampton General. We’ve been trying to find the owner so that we can return it.”

Chapter 19

Libby was frustrated. Not only had she no means of transport, but now she knew the reason she hadn’t been able to get in touch with Nigel. When they’d first met, she thought it strange that Nigel had no landline in his flat. When she had queried it, he explained that he preferred using his mobile. As he was so often away travelling, it was much easier for his patients to contact him that way. That was all very well, but it didn’t help her that weekend.

Libby briefly explained to the policeman who Nigel was and her relationship to him. The inspector thanked her for her time and assistance, and after taking her name and number, said they would be in touch if need be. In the meantime, they would hold onto the phone.

Libby wandered around her flat still feeling a bit low. She couldn’t decide whether it was because Nigel was here and hadn’t bothered getting in touch with her or because she was miffed at Robert, who was probably right now enjoying an exhilarating sail over to the Isle of Wight with the gorgeous Diana by his side, cousin or not.

She decided to give Jem a ring and find out what he and Simon were planning that evening; maybe she could join them somehow.

“Hi Libs, how are you?” Simon answered at once.

“Hi Simon. I’m fine, except I’ve no car. The blessed thing has finally given up the ghost and conked out on me.”

“That’s a pity, but I’m not surprised the way you ill-treat it. When will you get it back?”

Libby suppressed a sound of annoyance. Here was someone else lecturing her on how to look after a blessed car. If she had wanted to be an expert on car maintenance, she would have taken an evening class.

“The garage mechanic said sometime on Monday, all being well. I’m on a late duty that day, so hopefully they’ll finish fixing it in the morning, and I can pick it up after lunch before I go to work. What are you two doing tonight? I wondered if you’d like to come round and have some supper with me. I know I’m not much of a cook, but I’ll do my very best.”

“Aw Libby, sorry, we can’t. We’re halfway to Brighton. We’re meeting some old friends for a party and staying overnight. Another time and we’d love to come.”

Libby felt even more disconsolate and frustrated at his words. Where were your friends when you needed them most? she thought, after she had said 'goodbye' and wished them a good time. She mooched around the house, tidying a cushion or two and sorting out some old paperbacks to take to the local charity shop. Once she had sorted out a good carrier-bag full, she decided she would take them to the shop now. The walk would do her good, and she had nothing better to do.

The fine warm day was an English summer at its best. The trees lining the road were full and leafy, and Libby thought there was nothing better than the smell of newly-mown grass to set the scene. Walking briskly, she kept turning round and round in her mind thoughts of Nigel and their relationship. During the past few weeks, Libby had tried and tried to recollect when Nigel had proposed to her and given her his ring. It was useless, she just couldn’t remember. Neither could she recall making love with him. Surely, if she
really
loved Nigel wouldn’t this be the one thing she remembered above all else? This and her feeling of depression were wearing her down. Libby stopped walking and made a snap decision.

It was about time she took hold of her life again and stopped being pathetic!  Never could she remember being as feeble-minded as she was right now. The whole thing was absurd. As soon as Nigel contacted her, she was going to tell him it was all over.

She felt like she was living a lie, and Nigel didn’t deserve that. Libby had meant it when she had said she would wear his ring again when she recovered her memory, but somehow she had this feeling she and Nigel were never meant to be. Now that her mind was made up, she felt a weight lifting from her heart. She knew he would be annoyed and upset, but she truly believed this was the right thing to do. With a lighter and almost joyous tread to her step, she turned towards home.

Chapter 20

The watcher had bungled last night. For the first time, a mistake had been made and that was
nothing
like usual. The stupid woman had surprisingly put up quite a fight. Normally the victim was caught unawares and terrified when they saw the scalpel blade in front of their throat. The watcher thought the choice had been a good one this time. She was the right age, colouring and height, and a nurse. Every move of hers had been followed during the past week, and the watcher thought she would be ideal as a victim before the
final one.
The watcher had felt the urge the day before and decided to chance a hand one more time. It felt so good to once again emerge from watcher to
attacker
. Dressed in dark clothes, complete with wig and stage make-up, it was so simple to don the doctor’s white coat and mingle with the hospital visitors and staff. Security was nowhere near as good as it could be, and it was easy to engage the woman in flattering conversation while sharing a cigarette with her.

That part of the hospital, the teaching part, was usually quiet, and the west wing was completely deserted at that time of night. The shadows cast from the red-brick walls were long and dark, making it the perfect setting. The nurse was so relaxed when asked for her telephone number, and it was easy to approach her from behind as she wrote it down on a scrap of paper. Oh, the ecstasy as the look on her face turned to one of terror! When she understood and realised her mistake too late, the faithful blade began its glorious work.

The attacker was furious when she dodged the next cut to her face. She recovered her poise enough by kicking out viciously against the attackers’ shin and then recoiled before jabbing at the attacker’s face with her pen. Despite her desperate attempt to escape, there was a blissful moment when the scalpel sliced through her flesh before she managed to slip from her attacker’s grasp and run screaming towards the main building.

The attacker knew of a shortcut leading onto a back road which would eventually come to the university buildings. The attacker had left a car there, concealed in the shadows, and it was an easy task to remove the coat and wig and roll them up into a ball while moving towards the getaway. All that was left to do now was go home, take a shower and change clothes. An alibi would be good too. There were a couple of parties that night that were bound to be crowded, boozy affairs. No one would even notice someone arriving late. It was simple to slip in the back way, take a glass of wine and act like they had been there for hours. It was simple for someone with such excellent acting capabilities.

Chapter 21

It was a draught on her neck that woke her. After her hangover and short night before, Libby knew she needed an early one. She cooked a simple meal for herself and, feeling the need for some company, ate it in front of the television. Being summer, there was little stimulating drama to become involved in, and after watching half an hour of drivel, she decided it was time for bed. An hour reading a good book with a cup of cocoa would be heaven after a soothing and relaxing hot bath to settle her nerves.

Feeling self-indulgent, Libby added a capful of her precious
Jo Malone
lime, basil and mandarin bath oil and sank down in the silky warm water. Allowing her mind to wander, she lay back and dozed, blissfully lulled by the scent of the oil and candles. She dreamed she was floating in the Caribbean Sea, a warm sun gently kissing her skin…a soft caressing breeze blowing down upon…

…Libby’s eyes flew open. She wasn’t floating, nor was she lying in the sun, but she did feel a cool draught on her skin. Troubled, she sat up and listened. Maybe Rommie, her cat, had just entered by her cat-flap creating a draught. Straining her ears, she thought she heard a soft footfall on the tiled floor in the kitchen. With trembling fingers, she whisked her bath towel from the stool next to her tub and slowly stood up. The cooling water ran down her stomach and thighs as she wrapped the towel around her. Her heart was thudding in her breast as she moved stealthily from the water onto the floor, ensuring she didn’t make a sound.
There it was again
! A definite noise came from the direction of her kitchen. Feeling vulnerable, she looked around in terror. If only there was something to protect herself with in here.