Alf Ventress was in the ambulance whisking Nick to hospital.
It was clear they were battling for his life. He was losing a tremendous amount of blood, his shirt and jacket were saturated with it despite desperate attempts to staunch it with dressings, towels, whatever they'd been able to get hold of. His colour was deathly white and he had lapsed into unconsciousness. The ambulance man with him was administering oxygen, with his other hand he was keeping two fingers on Nick's neck feeling for the pulse. He called through to his colleague in the drivers cab.
"Step on it Sam." He looked at Alf.
"Oh dear God, no," Alf said weakly.
"He's losing too much blood, he's shutting down on us," the man said. "We've not got much time."
Alf put a hand on Nick's arm. "Come on lad, stay with us," he said. He looked at the ambulance man. "Isn't there owt more we can do?"
The man shook his head. "Just get him to Ashfordly General as of yesterday. I'm sorry mate."
"Its not me to feel sorry for." Alf's voice was bleak. "Its his wife, Kate."
"Kate – Dr Kate Rowan?"
Alf nodded. They both looked down at the young police officer whose very life seemed to be slipping through their hands.
Phil had given a statement and was sat huddled in a corner of the duty room at Ashfordly. Someone had put a blanket round his shoulders and pushed a cup of tea into his hands to try and bring him out of the state of shock he was in. The duty room, normally so quiet during the week, was in a state of busy confusion. Down in the cells was Lenny who was also in some state of shock by his actions. He had lashed out in a red mist with that axe and now he had to live with what he had done.
The door to his cell opened. A police constable stood there with a cup of tea. "I've been told I have to give this to yer," he said.
As Lenny reached for it the constable very deliberately spat into it then gave it to him. As Lenny stared at him, the constable snapped, "What? You've probably killed one of our own mate. How do you expect we're gonna treat you?"
"I never meant –"
"You went for him with an axe! What did you think would happen?"
"Is he – is he dead?"
"We haven't heard but probably yeah. You bastard." The copper knocked the mug of tea out of Lenny's hands, before leaving the cell and locking the door.
Lenny huddled himself up on the bed in the cell and began to sob quietly. "Mam, I want to see Mam," he whispered softly.
In a dingy hospital waiting room in Ashfordly Kate sat huddled on a hard plastic chair. Alf and Blaketon were sat either side of her. In front of her was a low wooden table and a young doctor who she knew reasonably well was sat on it holding her hands gently.
"We've stabilised him Kate," he was saying. "We've got fluids into him and he's responding but we need to get him into theatre and open him up to see what damage has been done."
"Can you save him John?" her voice was flat, her skin colour grey, lifeless.
"Kate, you know I can't answer you until we know more."
"Who's operating?"
"Mr Pilbury and I will be assisting. We will do our utmost."
"I know." She looked at him. "Can I see him before he goes to theatre?"
"I'm sorry Kate. He's already being prepped and to be honest he wouldn't know you were there. He's had strong painkillers and pre-meds." He stood up. "We'll get back to you just as soon as we can."
Phil, still sitting motionless in the duty room, looked up as Alf and his Sergeant came in.
"He's dead isn't he?"
Gently Blaketon sat down opposite him. "He's in the operating theatre lad. We won't know what's what for a while yet. But he's still alive. That's the main thing."
"Whose with Kate?"
"Her colleague Dr Radcliffe. They're going to phone us, here, when we know."
The other police officers in the room looked at each other.
"I'll get the kettle on," one said. "We'll wait it out together."
Blaketon looked up. "Where's Tomlinson?"
"Been taken over to Scarborough by CID. We can't hold him here," one officer said succinctly. Blaketon understood. Feelings were running too high.
James Radcliffe had got Kate a cup of tea.
"Drink it Kate," he said, "you need it."
"I'm going to lose him James."
"You don't know that." He took her hands in his. They were cold, clammy.
"What am I going to do?" She looked at him, eyes full of agony.
"Be strong. Nick's fighting very hard Kate and you need to be as strong as he is."
"I need to tell his Mum."
"When there's something to tell. We don't know very much at the moment."
"We know its bad."
"But we won't know anything for sure for a little while."
"You know," Kate said, "in London I dreaded this day. I knew it would come. And when we left London I felt safe. I thought for the first time I could relax, seeing my husband off to work without feeling the fear of him maybe not coming home that night." She looked at James dully. "But its happened anyway. Where I – we –both felt safe."
In the duty room at Ashfordly police officers sat quietly with mugs of tea watching the clock's hands dragging round.
"I should've knocked on that door instead of him," Phil said suddenly.
"And if you had we'd have been sat here waiting for news about you," Blaketon said. "It wouldn't have stopped it happening."
"I know the Tomlinsons," Alf said. "Jessie has tried real hard to bring that lad up – this will be a right shock to her."
"He should have been locked up years ago," Phil said viciously.
"Being fair he had temper outbursts," Alf said placidly, "But this, no one could have predicted this."
"Something set him off good and proper," one of the other constables observed.
Alf looked keenly at Phil. "When we – well, when we've heard Phil, you're coming home with me. Mrs Ventress will look after you a bit tonight. No going home Phil on your own."
"Thanks Alf," Phil said.
"Its what we do," Blaketon said. "We look out for each other." He looked at Alf who looked steadily back. Blaketon knew what he was seeing. Alf did not think the news was going to be good. However old or young you were, however experienced in the job, Nick Rowan's loss was going to be a devastating blow to the Ashfordly Constabulary.
Blaketon swallowed hard somehow knowing he had to stay strong. He could give in to his own grief in the privacy of his own four walls but not here.
Suddenly the telephone rang causing a young constable to spill his tea nervously. Feeling all eyes on him Blaketon picked it up.
"Ashfordly Police," he said and he could not help his voice wavering slightly. This call could change their lives.
