The Key. Simon Toyne
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looked over at the policeman, slumped in his chair, his attention dulled and elsewhere. He was still reading the paper, working backwards from the sports pages like he did every day, slipping so far down in his chair that his chin almost touched the buttons of his uniform shirt. He was clearly cut from the same cloth as his boss. Arrogant. Dismissive. Stupid.
No matter.
A bored guard was one who could easily be dealt with. As the night shift wore on, and the hospital grew quiet, Ulvi would offer to make coffee to help keep them awake, and in the small staff kitchen down the hall he would slip the flunitrazepam into the cop’s cup. He could imagine the look on the man’s stupid face when he woke in the morning with a date-rape drug hangover only to discover that all three of his charges were dead in their beds. He’d like to see how that played out. He’d also like to see the look on that snotty inspector’s face, but he would be long gone by then, off on another mission, serving God in his own dark way. He settled back in his chair, calmer now the waiting was almost over.
By tomorrow morning the message had said.
He wondered if there were others, agents like himself who had received the same message. The sensitive nature of his work meant he always worked alone so nothing could be traced to his masters if things went wrong. But nothing would go wrong, he was far too experienced for that.
Ulvi slipped his hand into his other pocket and gathered three loose beads into his palm, each like a solid drop of fresh blood waiting to be threaded on the black string of his rosary. He rolled them between his fingers, reciting the names in his head: Kathryn Mann, Liv Adamsen, Brother Dragan Ruja. He had been surprised when the remaining monk had been included in the mission. But it was not for him to question orders. The monk had already given his life to God anyway – Ulvi was just there to collect it.
He settled in his chair and reached for the novel he had brought to help pass the time. It was about the Knights Templar – warrior priests like him. He was about to start reading when he became aware of footsteps drawing closer. The cop heard them too and looked up from his newspaper as a nurse appeared round the corner and continued marching towards them. Ulvi checked his watch. It was too early for the evening rounds and she was walking with a sense of purpose and hurry. She must have been summoned by someone in the rooms.
The nurse arrived at the small table and picked up the signing-in sheet. She didn’t acknowledge the presence of either of the men watching her. There had been tension ever since the hospital staff had been asked to clear out what few patients there were in the old psychiatric ward and stop the renovation work.
Be patient, Ulvi thought. You’ll have your building back by morning, I promise.
He watched her write the time, her name, then ‘406’ in the ‘Room’ column. Liv Adamsen’s room. Ulvi picked up the keys from the desk and smiled at the nurse, but she gave him nothing in return.
So rude, these people, he thought as he walked ahead of her down the corridor. The sooner I’m done here, the better.
20
Liv was sitting up in bed, straining to hear the sounds outside in the corridor.
The footsteps had come from the right, so that was the direction she needed to head when she got out of the room. There was a loud, single rap on the door and she pulled the sheets tight around her neck as it started to open.
The priest stepped into the room and she immediately felt the dread expand within her. The nurse followed and walked over to switch off the call light that had summoned her. ‘You OK?’ she asked in accented English, automatically pulling a digital thermometer from her pocket and placing it against Liv’s forehead.
‘Yes, fine, I think – I just need to ask you something.’ The nurse pressed a button to get a reading and the thermometer beeped. ‘When I was admitted, what happened to all my stuff?’
‘Personal items are stored in property office behind reception.’ The nurse studied the display on the thermometer, then grabbed Liv’s wrist to check her pulse.
‘So how would I go about getting them back?’
‘You sign when you leave.’ She counted the heartbeats then let the wrist drop, looking into Liv’s face for the first time since entering. ‘Anything else?’
‘Yes …’ Liv glanced over at the priest, as if embarrassed about what she was about to ask. ‘Can you tell me how I’m doing, you know – medically.’
The nurse plucked her notes from the wall holder and studied the file. ‘Some hormone imbalance – oestrogen levels very high, but not dangerous. You have high temperature, nausea. Maybe you have some virus. Big concern is memory.’ She flipped to the end and read through the psychiatrist’s notes. Liv had tried to make them out for herself but they were written in Turkish. And much as she wanted to leave this place, there was no point in making a run for it if she was going to drop down dead a hundred metres from the door.
‘Psychiatric report is good,’ the nurse said. ‘They only keep you here for observation.’
‘What drugs am I on?’
The nurse scanned the notes and shook her head. ‘No drugs. Just rest and observation.’
Liv was surprised at this and didn’t entirely believe it. There was far too much weirdness going on in her head for her not to be doped in some way.
‘So in theory, I could carry on as normal,’ Liv said, watching the nurse’s face for the slightest twitch of a professional lie. ‘I mean, there’s nothing I should avoid – going on a plane or scuba diving, for example?’
The nurse glanced at the priest and shrugged. ‘You do what you like.’
‘Thank you,’ Liv said, the words coming out like a sigh of relief.
‘Not a problem. Anything else?’
‘Yes, there is one more thing,’ Liv said, throwing the sheet off to reveal she was fully clothed. ‘I’d like to discharge myself – immediately.’
Liv had already grabbed a bag from the floor and was halfway to the door when Ulvi’s brain caught up with what was happening. Instinctively he moved to step in front of her, but she side-stepped him and squeezed through the open door.
Outside in the corridor the police officer rose from his seat and stepped towards her. ‘Back in your room.’
‘Why?’ Liv said, looking calmly up into his face.
‘Because … you’re not well.’
‘That’s not what the nurse just said.’ Liv glanced over her shoulder to where the nurse now stood. ‘And I’m not under arrest, am I?’
The cop opened his mouth to say something then seemed to think better of it. ‘No,’ he said.
Liv smiled and cocked her head to one side. ‘So would you step aside, please.’
He looked down at her, an internal debate raging in his head. He came to a conclusion and stepped aside.
‘You must stay here,’ the priest said, his words sounding like an order.
‘No,’ Liv said, already walking away. ‘I really mustn’t.’
She swung her bag over her shoulder and marched quickly away in the same direction she had heard the nurse arriving from.
Ulvi watched her go, weighing up his options. If he followed her now he could shadow her, wait until she was far away from the crowds, in a hotel room maybe: isolated; unobserved. It was tempting. But the other two targets were still here which meant so was the bulk of his mission.
He watched Liv reach the junction in the corridor and disappear round it.
In his mind he played back the events that had just taken place in the room, slowing them down, analysing them, then smiled as