Double Blind (27 page)

I clamped my lips together. I didn’t even want to breathe the same air as him.

“Go ahead, Phil,” he said. Lizardman moved the knifepoint to the corner of Anita’s mouth.

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you.”

“Good,” he said. “Phil, stand down. Let’s hear what the little lady has to say.”

“Don’t tell him anything,” Anita said. “He’s going to kill us anyway.”

I was thinking fast. If I talked, maybe they’d leave Anita alone. Maybe Parry would have worked out how to track my phone. Maybe Owens and Walsh were about to burst through the door.

“Someone used Dr. Reid’s login and password to change the data on the electronic patient records,” I said. “Was that you?”

“No. But you’re on the right track.”

“Dr. Schwartz then.”

“Keep going.”

“Schwartz was trying to hide something,” I said, trying to work out what it was.

“He was falsifying data on the side effects of LitImmune,” Anita said. “Which is a drug developed by your company.”

“And what makes you think that?” Macintyre was smiling.

“The edits that Schwartz made were on records of patients who’d had kidney transplants.”

“Good, good.” Macintyre sounded like a teacher coaching a student. “And where do you come into the picture, do you think?”

“There were differences between the electronic patient records and my notes. Anyone who saw the two of them side by side could easily identify the false entries.”

“Hence my need to secure the notes,” Macintyre said, looking at me.

“I think Reid was worried that maybe Anita was the one making the edits,” I said. “He’d set up a meeting with her to discuss it. But that meeting never happened.”

Macintyre clapped his hands together slowly. ”Bravo.”

“How did you do it?” Anita asked. “How did you manage to get an IV hooked up to Dr. Reid?”

“I told him I had a problem I needed to discuss in private,” he said. “Once I had him in an examination room, I gave him Rophynol in a cup of coffee to knock him out long enough to get the meds going. His brain might have been robust but physically, he was weak.”

Anita closed her eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Don’t stop, ladies. I’m enjoying your little narrative.”

He looked from Anita to me and back again. “Come on,” he said. “You must know more.”

When neither of us spoke, he nodded again at Lizardman. With an expression of deep satisfaction, Lizardman stroked the point of knife across Anita’s lips before jabbing it into the corner of her mouth. She whimpered as blood streamed from the cut.

“Stop it, for God’s sake,” I said. “Stop it.”

Macintyre raised an eyebrow at me.

“We thought that Eric Hill was involved in some way,” I said. “That he—”

“Eric.” Macintyre interrupted. “What a loser. He actually believes he’s helping doctors save lives and all that crap. It’ll be a pleasure to shut him up once and for all.”

“Why?” asked Anita. “Why do you need to shut him up?”

“Because Reid talked to him. Eric’s too stupid to have realized that LitImmune was the problem, but he’ll connect the dots at some point. So he has to go.”

I gazed at Macintyre, trying to understand. “You’re working for someone else, aren’t you? Someone at LBP? Maybe the researcher who was responsible for LitImmune’s initial tests?”

“A researcher? God, no.”

“The CEO of LB Pharmaceuticals?” I threw out the suggestion, hoping for a response, even an involuntary one like a nervous tic, a twitch of an eye. But Macintyre was far too professional to give anything away.

“You can’t really believe I’m going to tell you who I work for,” he said, standing up and pushing the chair to one side. The screech of wood on the flagstone floor was deafening in the dreary confines of the cellar.

“I don’t really understand one thing,” I said, still aiming to draw more information from him. “There must be other hospitals using LitImmune and other doctors who’ve noted side effects. What good would it do to silence Anita?”

“The drug is still in trial. A double blind trial, as luck would have it, which makes things easier for me. There are other hospitals testing it, and other doctors willing to compromise their medical ethics to reap the financial reward of cooperating with me. And, sadly, there have been a couple of tragic accidents involving doctors who insisted on sticking to their moral principles.”

I wanted to ask what the hell a double blind trial was, but my voice was stuck in my throat.

“You’ve killed other people?” Anita asked. “Not just Dr. Reid?”

He shrugged. “All in a day’s work,” he said. “You are the annoying fly in the ointment. By keeping notes separate from the official records, you’ve made my life rather more difficult. But I’m about to solve the problem, because Kate is going to tell me where the notes are.”

He walked towards me, his black clad figure melding with the dark shadows. “Where did you put the notes, sweet Kate?” He bent down, putting his face close to mine. His eyes were like dirty ice, translucent, almost colorless. If eyes are windows into the soul, his gave away nothing; maybe there was no soul to be seen. I turned my face away from his. I really didn’t want to die in this horrible cellar.

“Don’t tell him,” Anita said. I’d almost forgotten she was there. Lizardman too. Macintyre took up all the space. He absorbed the weak light, sucked all the oxygen from the air. It was like being locked up in a tomb with him.

“Other people know about the notes,” I said. “Even if you kill us, they will find you.”

Macintyre laughed. “I don’t think so. These other people, whoever they are, won’t know who I am or where I am. I have resources beyond your wildest imaginings.”

“They won’t give up.” I felt the need to keep talking. It was better than listening to his creepy voice. And there was still a chance the police were on their way. I glanced at my leather bag, thinking of my phone. Macintyre noticed. He picked up the bag, shook it upside down.

“You’re looking for this?” he asked. He held my phone up so I could see the screen. ”No signal, dear heart. We’re in a basement with twenty-four inch stone walls.”

“You won’t get away with it,” Anita said quietly.

“You say that in hope, not in fact.” He turned to look at Anita. It was as though a glaring light pointed at me had been turned off. “You’re the type who thinks that evil will always be punished, that good will be rewarded. But life isn’t like that. Not at all. Murderers and rapists stroll the pavements of our fair city next to mobsters, swindlers and thieves. The good people, as you think of them, walk the streets deaf and blind, unaware that the man next to them on the bus is a terrorist, or the barista serving them coffee is a pedophile.”

I was finding it hard to breathe, scared beyond reason. The man was a psychopath.

Macintyre straightened up. “I’ve had enough of this. It’s time, ladies. Tell me where the notes are.”

My thoughts were darting around like fish in a bowl. If I told Macintyre where the notes were, he might keep us alive while Lizardman went to find them. Once he had them, though, we’d be dead. “The notes are in a cabinet in the kitchen on the fourth floor at the hospital.”

That would throw some obstacles in his way. Lizardman couldn’t just walk in there and pick them up. In the early evening the wards would be busy, with plenty of staff and visitors still around to make access difficult. Anita looked at me with a faint smile. She knew now that I’d found them in the kitchen, and that they weren’t there any longer.

Macintyre came to stand close to me again. I recoiled when he reached out and stroked my hair. “If you’re lying, Kate, I’ll take great pleasure in getting the truth from you. It won’t be quick, I promise you. Where exactly are they?”

“They’re in a manila folder with a K on the front for Kate. In the cabinet furthest from the sink, behind some boxes of coffee.” I hoped that embellishing the details would make him think I was telling the truth.

Macintyre ran his finger along my aching jaw. He straightened up, stepped away. “Phil, keep an eye on them. We’ll deal with them when I get back.”

With several long strides, he was gone, the metal door clanging closed behind him. I had to restrain myself from smiling. He’d taken the bait and, even better, he’d gone on the errand himself. If we had any hope of escaping it would have to be now, with only Lizardman to contend with.

Anita’s tears had dried and she straightened up in her chair. She gave a slight nod towards me, a sign that she was thinking the same as I was. I had to do something to get Lizardman to untie me. I began to cough and convulse, the ties on my wrist and ankles digging into my flesh every time I jerked against them.

“She’s seizing,” Anita shouted. “You have to help her.”

Lizardman looked at her blankly.

“Now, you idiot,” she yelled at him. “Get her horizontal, with her head turned to one side. Do it now.”

“What the hell?”

“You don’t want to let her die. Macintyre will be furious if you do. He’s going to need her to tell him where those notes really are.”

“She lied? I need to call Macintyre.”

“Later. You can call him later. Now do as I say before she swallows her tongue and suffocates.”

Lizardman bounded towards me, knife in front of him. He began sawing through the zip ties around my wrists, freeing my arms from the chair. When he cut the tie on my right ankle, I brought my fists together on each side of his head, battering his ears. He yelped in pain, pushed away from me and fell backwards just long enough for me to aim a kick at him. It was luck, not skill, that my foot connected with his face. I heard a loud crack. Grasping the knife in one hand, he used the other to cradle his nose. Blood poured through his fingers.

His temporary lack of attention gave me the time I needed to retrieve the Stanley box-cutter from the table, where it lay amongst a mess of make-up containers and old receipts. My fingers were shaking, but the blade was razor sharp, able to cut through the tie on my left ankle with ease. I stood up, holding the box-cutter in front of me.

Lizardman was already climbing to his feet. When he saw the blade in my hand, he paused, but only for a second. Then he came at me, his knife raised and aimed at my chest. I knew I couldn’t beat him in a knife fight. I moved behind my chair, putting more space between us.

Instead of charging at me, as I expected him to do, he moved towards Anita, who was still bound hand and foot. She was the easy target, of course.

“Put the weapon down, Kate,” he said, pointing his knife at her. His voice sounded raspy and nasal as though he had a bad cold.

I grabbed my empty chair, held it high with the legs pointing at him, and ran. The chair hit him in the torso, barely making an impact. He merely grabbed one of the legs and pulled, bringing me with it. We were close now, with just the chair between us. I whipped the box-cutter around, stabbing at thin air until suddenly, miraculously, the blade hit his upper arm. I felt it sink through the flesh and hit bone. Swearing loudly, he dropped the chair and grabbed at his arm, his knife hanging loosely in his hand.

Behind me Anita yelled, urging me on. I picked up the chair again and swung it at his injured arm. The knife flew out of his hand and clattered to the floor. I flung the chair around again, aiming for his head. The edge of the wooden seat made contact with his broken nose with a satisfying crunch. He wavered for a few seconds before falling to his knees, his hands covering his face.

I wasn’t thinking very clearly, but I knew we only had seconds to act. He was disabled, but not for long. I cut through the ties on Anita’s wrists and thrust the box-cutter into her hand. Skirting Lizardman, I rushed to retrieve his knife from where it had fallen.

By the time he was back on his feet, Anita was free, and armed with the box-cutter. I stood next to her with the knife in my hand.

“Stay back,” I said to him. “I’ll use this if I have to.”

Even through all the blood, he smirked, which made me mad. I raised the knife, preparing to throw it. I’d thrown javelin in school one year when I was too injured to run. At this distance, he was an easy mark.

His eyes widened. “What the…” he said, holding his good hand in front of him.

“Back on your knees,” I said.

When he was on the floor, Anita crouched down next to him, holding the box-cutter at his neck. “Don’t think I won’t do it,” she said. “I’m a surgeon and I know exactly where your carotid artery runs.” She stroked the blade along his skin, leaving a thin red line.

“Tie him up,” she said to me. “Check his pocket for zip ties.”

I dug into his pocket and pulled out three ties, then sat on his legs while securing his ankles to the table legs. There was only one tie left so I bound his wrists together.

“We need to go,” I said. “Macintyre could come back at any moment.”

Anita nodded, still holding the blade against Lizardman’s throat. I grabbed my bag and threw all my stuff back in it, including my useless phone. Looping the strap across my body, I followed Anita to the heavy iron door, which squealed on its hinges when she pulled it open. I checked quickly but there was no lock, no way to block it. We’d just have to move fast.

The long corridor stretching ahead was our only way out. If we met Macintyre coming the other way, we were in trouble. When we reached the wooden staircase at the other end, we paused to listen for any sounds from above. It was quiet and we had no choice anyway. We had to go up. My pulse raced. I wasn’t going to tell Anita, but her aura was still there, spinning over her head. That meant we weren’t out of danger yet.

We reached the top of the staircase and pushed open the door that led into the spacious lobby, where I fumbled around until I found a light switch. Soft lamplight revealed wood paneling and dozens of framed paintings of horses or flowers on the walls.

“What is this place? It looks like an aristocrat’s country house, but we’re in London.” Anita turned to look at me. “Aren’t we? I’m so confused. I have no idea where I am.”

I didn’t know either, except that I was sure we were near the river. “We need to keep moving,” I said. As I led the way across the hall towards the front doors a table near the staircase caught my attention. It was covered in glossy brochures.