CHAPTER TWELVE
The light in the treatment room was so bright it made Harry squint as the doctor was lifting his head for closer inspection.
“Oh Harry, what have you done to yourself this time? You just can’t seem to stay out of trouble!”
“It follows me around like a bad smell, like that girl I may add” Harry felt fatigued, he was lucky the man hadn’t opened up the wound behind his ear, it wasn’t as tender anymore but he was still mindful of it.
Doctor Clarke laughed at his predicament. “We could be hearing the sounds of wedding bells soon it seems Harry.”
He balked at the thought of it. “She is not my type! I go for classier ladies. Well, I used to, maybe I should think about downgrading?”
She was satisfied with the procedure. They had taken the blood sample from him to save time and she nodded at the nurse and orderly in a gesture to leave. They didn’t like it but they walked out of the door and closed it, peering in through the glass window just to be sure.
Her expression changed to seriousness now as she placed herself on the chair opposite. It was clear she had some questions to ask.
Harry picked up on it quickly, “Another therapy session Doctor? I’m sure I’m not due another for a day or two?”
Doctor Clarke shifted in her chair. “I’m not writing this down today. I’d like you to tell me about the events that lead up to your arrest?”
“You have a file on me Doctor, It should all be in there.”
“No, no, tell me from the beginning, the accident, the voices, your relationship to Miss Trevor and to your wife.”
Harry shrugged, he had told it before, he had also heard the sorry tale told in court in graphic detail. It didn’t matter much to him any way, he had plenty of time to talk. He wondered if it was just another way of him coming to terms with what he had done.
So he recalled the horrific events to Doctor Clarke who listened with interest at the calm but saddened man before her. He had a way of telling a story that interested her greatly.
He told her about his feelings for Becky and his ever receding tide of feelings for Suzy. Slowly it dawned on her that what he described was so pure and gentle that she found it hard to imagine how Harry could even contemplate such an act. It seemed so far fetched and incredible that, for a man with his power and influence, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he had picked up a few enemies along the way. Envy had a great effect on people.
“So you see Dr Clarke, this is a just punishment for me. I fear that if I was let out I might do the same thing again and I simply couldn’t live with it. It’s right for me to be here.”
It almost bought a tear to the Doctor’s eye. “Harry, you have to be the strangest case I have ever come across. That was a tragic, and in the same breath, touching story you told me. The case notes do not do it justice!”
“Thank you Doctor, you’re a kind person. I’m tired now, my head hurts and I need a rest, would you mind if I went back to my room?”
She could do more but what he had told her would stay lodged in her mind for a long while to come. “Ok Harry, you get some rest and try and stay alert for Arnold next time. If he confronts you again, be sure you shout out. The orderlies will deal with him.”
Harry nodded and shuffled past the gawping pair outside the door back to his room.
The following week passed quite contentedly for Harry. He spent time outside enjoying the trees, not as much as his friend Chris did but he had gotten used to the sight of it by now. He was still plagued by his adoring fly everywhere he went but with Arnold being confined to his room, it gave him respite to heal a little and think about new hobbies he could do to while away the time.
He figured, at 52, he had another 30 years left here so he might as well make the most of it.
Quite a distance away but as close to Harry as it could be, a girl was lying as still as a rock. It wasn’t her intention to remain this way and she wasn’t even aware of her surroundings, but a finger had suddenly broken the rigid bond that held her and began to twitch.
Dr Clarke was busy at her desk arranging therapy sessions for the week ahead. There were 30 patients at the centre with a vast array of mental conditions ranging from self harm to psychosis; there was never a dull day to be had for her. She was glad to be on the other side of the fence however, treating patients rather than restraining them, although for a burly orderly it probably made for an interesting day also.
The phone rang and distracted her from her thoughts, “If only I could have some peace to get organized!” It was like someone standing next to you, shouting for attention while you attended to your duties.
“Dr Clarke, it’s the lab, we have the blood test results for a Mr H Rowlandson. Are you ok to talk now?”
This was a welcome distraction. “Yes, yes of course, what did the result indicate?”
The reply was interesting to say the least. “Negative for schizophrenia using the Sentinel Principle Test, although there is always a degree of error it’s 95% as you know. Does that help your diagnosis Doctor?”
Her petite oval face lit up in an instant. “Of course, it’s interesting to say the least, thank you for phoning me.”
She placed the receiver back on its stand and just stared at the wall ahead of her. This case was getting more interesting by the minute. Harry’s doctor should have demanded a re-test. It could have gotten mixed up at the lab, it was known to happen.
“How could Dr Hancox just let it be?” she murmured to herself.
She rubbed her chin and reached over for Harry’s case file to recall the sequence of events.
There was knock at the door followed by Nurse Sullivan. “Emily, I just wanted you to know that we’re letting Arnold out again to mingle with the patients, is that ok?”
“Yes, fine, make sure he’s had his tranquilizer though and tell one of the orderlies to keep a close eye on him. He’s becoming more trouble than he is worth at the moment!”
The door closed again and Dr Clarke thumbed through the pages to find Dr Hancox’s personal contact details. She thought it worthwhile to give him a ring although she was ready for the hairdryer treatment. It didn’t pay to question another Doctors method’s, especially one as well respected as himself.
The number rang out and she was greeted by a soft female voice.
“Dr Hancox’s practice, can I help you?”
“Yes, this is Dr Clarke from the Karen Phillimore Private Health Centre, I have a former patient of Dr Hancox’s residing here and I just wanted to have a chat with him. Is he free?”
“I’m sorry Doctor but Dr Hancox has taken semi-retirement from the practice. We have a Dr Yvonne Hall working for us now. Would you like to speak to her?”
Dr Clarke had hit a brick wall. She had to reach him somehow. “Could you pass a message on for me then please? Tell him that I’ve taken a second blood test from a Mr Harry Rowlandson and I need to discuss the results.”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few awkward moments.
“Hello, are you still there?”
“Yes, yes Dr Clarke, sorry. I’ll pass the message on for you, good day” the cut off was abrupt to say the least. Maybe she wasn’t wealthy enough she thought to herself, semi-retirement? How much were they paying him? Lucky sod!
Harry was busy sitting with his two compatriots trying to excite their interest in a game of Monopoly, but it appeared to be too time consuming and complex for them.
“I just want to go outside” complained Chris.
Harry just looked at him, “I think you spend far too many hours outside, you’ll go blind” he chuckled.
“Balestra!” shouted his other friend.
Conversations were always entertaining if a little brief he thought.
He packed the board away and noticed with horror the sight of a giant figure being led back into the games room. It was Arnold again, his nemesis. The orderly parked his enormous frame in a seat at the corner of the room.
Harry gestured to his friends to look over. “Christ, we have company” he felt a great pang of fear rise inside himself.
Arnold was sitting there with his mouth wide open in a slur and his dull eyes were fixed on Harry but he didn’t seem to react like he normally did.
Chris held Harry’s arm to comfort him, “Don’t worry Harry, they’ve drugged the big lump.”
Lucky they had for his sake. The female fly instantly came over to Arnold and started hissing in his face and dancing around him but the orderly shooed her away.
“I think I’ll take a walk with you Chris, the air will do me good.”
“En Garde!” shouted his friend with a look of fury upon his face as he leapt to his feet before re-seating himself.
Harry just sighed. “My friend, you make little sense but ironically you’re right this time.”
They walked past Arnold before he managed to come to his senses.
Vic was seated on his throne at the lap club going over last week’s events to AJ, his ever eager understudy.
“Good to see that posh nonce has paid up finally. One can find the collection of debts a tiresome bore at times” he said in a faux-posh accent.
AJ nodded. Vic could pop him on the back seat as a joke bulldog from the looks of it but AJ knew better than to interrupt by now.
“Quite a cushty number too by the looks of it as long as the girl stays still!”
AJ sensed a pause, “Any word Vic?”
“None yet; The Smiths wrote about a girlfriend in a coma. I might send the CD up as a gift.”
AJ just laughed, Vic was a sick comic.
“So AJ, how are you finding it now? Better than hanging around with that loser, eh?”
“For sure Mr Dart, I’m glad you gave me the run of this place, we've been pulling in the punters right left and centre.”
Vic looked at his experiment with pride and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’ll do well here my son, I thought you’d be good with the ladies. I hope you’ve been keeping my girls sweet?”
“Always, Vic.” He flashed a smile back at the man he worshipped. “You gave me a chance, I’ll always be grateful for that.”
Vic laughed and walked over to pour himself another scotch. “I’m sure you will.”
Pouring AJ a glass, he raised it in a toast. “Here’s to Tits, Arse and the Queens Head!”
The phone rang in his office as they were both laughing at his speech. Vic walked over to pick it up.
An eastern European accent sounded out on the phone, “Hello, Mr Dart, you said ring you if anything happened at hospital?”
Vic was surprised but glad his connections were working for their bungs. “Oh yeah, any news?”
AJ saw that Vic looked a little worried.
“Thanks for letting me know, I’ll be seeing you right.”
Putting the phone down, he shouted over to Kelvin, “You’re going on a little drive, you might be up there for a few days.”
Kelvin just nodded and got himself ready, ever the loyal servant.
AJ’s curiosity got the better of him. “Vic, what’s up?”
A solemn looking Vic turned to AJ. “The girl, she’s coming too. It’s time we silenced her or she’ll blow the whole lid on this operation!”
Dr Clarke had decided to reschedule her treatments and had given over certain chores to the nurses so she could spend time searching the internet for more background on Harry.
Starting from the very beginning, she Googled for details on the accident. There were thousands of hits, a chance road rage attack, the culprits were never found and no fingerprints in the car.
She poured over old newspaper headlines predicting Harry’s demise through ill health. She read recent articles about his successor, Jack Mayes, who had taken over quite quickly and had effected a large number of redundancies, citing the recession and Harry’s benevolent attitude in retaining them as a recipe for disaster.
The phone was ringing incessantly in her office while she browsed. She didn’t want to answer it as the trail was becoming interesting to say the least.
She jolted a little as a sharp, impatient voice erupted on the earpiece.
“Yes it is and who might this be?”
“Dr Hancox, you left a message” the line sounded crackly and faint.
She interrupted again. “Sorry, the phone is pretty bad. Can you call again, you might get a better line?”
“I’m abroad Dr Clarke, supposed to be enjoying my retirement but I received disturbing news about a second test you performed on my former patient.”
“Anywhere nice Doctor?” She asked to lighten the mood.
“Never mind that, I am appalled that you should even call for a second test, it’s incredulous. I’ve been practicing in the medical field for a very long time now, what made you think it appropriate to disagree with my diagnosis Doctor?”
She was used to handling irate people. He didn’t ruffle her feathers a single bit.
She calmly took a breath while smiling. “Completely appropriate Dr Hancox. He shows no signs of schizophrenia or psychosis and the results, you will probably be surprised to hear, are negative.”
The angry little man was becoming redder by the minute. “Preposterous! You’ve made a mistake. He has shown classic signs of both symptoms, how do you explain the attempted murder for a start?”
She couldn’t, that was the stumbling block but she decided to persist.
“I’m sorry Doctor, it is too sudden. There are no signs of progression, he’s as normal as any of my nurses or orderlies.”
Dr Hancox took a deep breath. “So what now, are you happy with your diagnosis? What now for Harry? Do you know about his sister Helen’s, condition?”
“Yes I’ve read your notes. There is a biological predisposition to it being hereditary, but I think further tests are in order.”
“Ridiculous! Well have it your way Doctor, he’s your patient to do with what you will but I fear you’ll be wasting your time.”
Who was this man? A really rather nasty, arrogant little sod he was too she thought.
“Quite right he is Dr Hancox and now I must go and perform more research. He really is an interesting character!”
The phone was dropped suddenly and left Dr Clarke to fume at the sheer front of the man. There was no bedside manner, how had Harry stayed his patient for so long?
“A beautiful portrait by Robert Peake, the Prince looks dazzling in his orange tights. Mind you, he was thought to be 16 at the time so it was possibly the fashion of noble teens at the time!”
Jack was busy entertaining his accomplice in the National Portrait Gallery. She was feigning interest but wanted to get away to visit Bond Street and indulge herself.
“Horrendous, I wouldn’t be seen dead in accessories such as that. I’m just glad we have the modern day luxury to simply pick and choose. Have you seen enough now Jack?”
“Are you bored my sweet? We could move onto a different room?”
Suzy could see no end to the tedium but she didn’t want to offend her man.
“No, of course not! I love it here but my shoes are rubbing me, I need to find a better pair. We can come back soon.”
Jack would have regretted his decision to let go of his single status but Suzy was so fabulously wealthy now he would be a fool to dwell on its loss.
His mobile phone gave a whistle in his pocket and he flipped it open to see if it was urgent. A cold shiver ran down his spine, quite a feat for a cold blooded creature such as himself. The message simply read, “Signs of life up north, relief arriving soon to take care of it, V.”
He looked at Suzy with an obvious look of dread across his perfect complexion. “My God, Suzy, she’s waking up!”
Suzy placed a hand over her mouth to stifle the gasp.
“What are we going to do about it Jack?”
The threads were unraveling at the seams of the intricately woven plot. Jack stood there trying to formulate a plan.
They took a brisk walk down the hallway, past famous paintings they no longer had any interest in and appeared outside the steps of the famous gallery into the throng of people milling around Trafalgar Square.
“Suzy, whatever we do, we must not panic. Vic will take good care of it and when he is done, we will take care of Vic.”
Suzy was puzzled at his last statement and tugged at his arm to stop.
“What do you mean Jack, without him we would never have gotten this far?”
“I didn’t tell you my dear, but Vic has been trying to blackmail me with inflated demands for extra money. He visited me last week with his bloody henchmen!”
Jack was pulling his hair back into shape as the wind blew fiercely across the square.
“Oh Jack, if he thinks he can bloody well take us to the cleaners for our generosity then he can think again!”
“That’s right, as soon as he has dealt with that girl, I’ll make sure an even bigger fish will come along to swallow him up.”
Suzy leaned over and kissed her man in a triumphant gesture. Jack would sort this whole mess out while she spent time thinking about her new wardrobe.
An oversized ape of a man was busy mopping up the floor in the long term care ward at Edinburgh Royal Infirmary; he was receiving plenty of stares from bemused patients who joked between themselves about whether to mention he had missed a bit. The nurses didn’t bat an eyelid however, they were used to support staff coming and going which was lucky for Kelvin Hoiles as the last thing he needed was attention.
He slowly worked his mop towards the far end of the ward where a girl lay almost motionless and noticed a couple of uniformed officers engaged in conversation with the ward sister around her.
“It’s incredible officer, she’s been stirring constantly since the last shift nurse noticed signs of movement this morning.”
The officer stared at the patient with interest. She was still a credible witness, they had put the case to bed but there were a few gaps in the whole picture they wanted to plug.
“Well, thank you for alerting us so quickly. She’ll probably tell us the same story as was heard in court, if she comes round that is. Do you think there’s a chance she might?”
“It’s entirely possible; we like to talk to these patients as much as we can. We play music and ask them all sorts of questions in the hope it might trigger an awakening. It does seem that our methods might be working, it just takes time.”
The cleaner moved his equipment in and around the crowd that had gathered at Becky’s bedside, much to their annoyance.
The nurse turned and snapped at him, “Orderly! Can you go and clean somewhere else, the hallway needs a good mop.”
Rolling her eyes at the intrusion she said to the policeman, “Can’t get the staff these days. I wonder where they managed to find him!”
The officer laughed. “He’s as big as that bloke in the Green Mile, what was his name, I can’t remember?”
“Mr Jingles,” replied the nurse as she saw him slowly move back down the ward, dragging the pail with his big lumps of meat.
An altogether different patient was sitting in his room reading the FT while keeping a watchful eye out for a similarly sized oaf. It felt like school bullying again. He thought he had left that behind him years ago but it seemed in life there was always someone that wanted to dominate your existence.
He had become increasingly numb to any news reports that mentioned his name. The only reason he could give for reading them was a link to the outside as there wasn’t a single soul who had visited him to keep him up to speed.
He flicked over the pages with indifference until he found a small piece by Terry Lecomber who despite such appaling journalism was still working there. Harry began to read the contents with interest.
'It seems that the Rowlandson Bank cannot erase the spectre of their past as it was announced yesterday by their new CEO, Jack Mayes, that a benefit night will be held honouring their former chairman.
It is also entirely ludicrous that they should mention the word honour and Harry Rowlandson in the same breath but Mr Mayes wanted it to be made very clear that any funds raised would be handed over to The Royal Infirmary Hospital in Edinburgh for the long term care of trauma patients.
We salute you, Mr Mayes, for your kind endeavour, but what about the pension rights of the hundreds of workers you laid off recently?’
The article blathered on a bit more but Harry was already scanning for other news. He didn’t pay much lip service to the press, most of his good deeds had been twisted and paraded as mere publicity stunts.
“Well I hope they do some good out of this sorry mess” Harry was feeling pretty depressed and despondent right now. On the one hand he felt a great sense of peace but on the other he was feeling uneasy about his ability to last the long haul. His mind was sharp but his robed associates were not. He needed some stimulus aside from playing games or staring at trees, it wasn’t enough and he doubted it would ever be.
But a greater storm was brewing inside these four walls than he could ever imagine and it was drawing in as it walked down the hall towards his room. The orderlies hadn’t batted an eyelid as he left the games room thinking he was so drugged up he would be going back to his own room to sleep it off but Arnold had only one idea in his mind today.
Harry had folded up the paper and lay on the bed facing the wall to sleep. He had no mind for Arnold; he only had to shout if he needed help.
The big, grey figure scanned the hall back and forth as he sidled slowly into Harry’s room. Seeing that his enemy was taking a nap, he closed the door as quietly as he could. The orderlies hadn’t noticed that Arnold wasn’t drugged up at all; he had only been biding his time for them to lose interest in him.
The room was quite bare and Arnold could see nothing to hand to act as weapons except for his own fists. He stood over the sleeping figure with a crooked smile and a glint in his eye at his good fortune.
Harry simply hadn’t noticed him and now it was too late. His muffled cries and sobs were drowned out by his own grunting and the dull sound of Arnold’s knuckles as he made contact with Harry’s head. As a rain of blows descended on his already weakened body, Harry drifted off into unconsciousness again. It was like he was horrifically transported back to the very first accident where it had all begun.
There was no one about. Arnold could hear the orderlies laughing amongst the general mayhem and he grinned at the lifeless, bloodied figure that lay on the bed before quietly slipping out the door.