oOo
Will was drifting. Awareness came and went, like the ebb and flow of the tide, the brief moments of lucidity quickly disappearing into obscurity, leaving only traces of memory behind. When Will's senses sharpened once again, he felt pain first, with every breath, his chest ached. Then his hearing returned. The jumble of noises was immediately familiar, even though he didn't know from where at first. Only when he opened his eyes and his vision cleared a few moments later, everything came together and he knew he was in hospital.
He looked around. The ward seemed fairly quiet and the lights were low. Maybe it was night. He didn't know what time it was, nor even knew for sure what day it was, He took a closer look around. On the nightstand at the side of his bed were flowers, as well as several colourful cards. He reached out to have a closer look when the pain that shot through his chest reminded him of the more pressing issues. He shook his head, trying to dispel the fog from his mind and stay awake. His chest hurt with every breath and he really needed to know what had happened. Will ran a hand over his sore chest, trying to gauge the degree of injury. There didn't seem to be any holes in him, but a couple of broken ribs and probably spectacular bruising for sure. What the hell had happened to him? This was more than what you'd get from just one kick into the ribs. To do this, someone had to have beaten him up pretty good. A nasty and disturbing suspicion formed in the back of his mind. He had seen that type of injury--the bruising, the broken ribs - before on victims who had received CPR. The thought was disturbing, even more so since he couldn't recall what had happened to put him in hospital in the first place. The last thing he remembered, it had been just an ordinary day on the job. He was a bit fuzzy on the details, but he recalled clearly that they had arrested two youths for shoplifting at a mall around 11 a.m. that morning. He'd been with Sally that day, that much he recalled. Beyond that, it was all a big, dark blur. Tired from thinking, Will let his head sink back into the pillow. It was tempting to simply let himself drift off to sleep again, but he needed answers. Pushing himself up once again, he ground his teeth against the pain in his chest and pressed the call button.
oOo
"You were truly lucky, Mr. Fletcher," the doctor declared, studying the contents of her clipboard. "Your kidney function levels are nearly back to normal and your neurological responses are also within normal limits. It seems that you managed to escape any permanent damage."
Not that this wasn't good news to Will, but he still didn't know what had actually happened. Once he'd called for the nurse, it had all gone very quickly. She had taken one look at him and before he'd had the chance to ask any questions, she told him she was going to get a doctor, and she was gone. The white-haired physician that had shown up a few minutes later had introduced herself as Dr. Pearson and had proceeded to put him through a battery of neurological tests, which apparently he had passed with flying colours. Now all he wanted was to go back to sleep, but he needed answers first.
"What about my memory? I still can't remember what actually happened," Will asked Dr. Pearson, trying to hide his anxiety.
"Ah. I wouldn't worry if I were you. Amnesia is a common side effect and given the amount of drugs in your system, I'm not really surprised that you can't remember."
Drug? He hadn't taken any drugs. He wouldn't. He had seen their detrimental effects far too often to even consider taking any himself.
"What drug?" he managed to ask.
"Right. You don't remember. You were admitted after taking an overdose of a designer drug called Mercury.
Mercury. The name rang a bell. Will was sure he'd heard it before, but he couldn't recall where.
"When can I go home?" he asked instead.
"Not so fast, Mr. Fletcher. There are still some things we need to check out before we can send you home. For the moment, we've put you on an anti-seizure medication, seeing as the overdose caused you to have several seizures. I doubt this will be anything permanent, but we'll still need to run another EEG to check for recent seizure activity."
Will was stunned. It looked like he'd gotten himself into quite a mess and the worst was that he couldn't recall one good reason why he could have taken drugs.
But one thing he did know for certain was that if those seizures, which he fortunately couldn't recall having either, turned out to be something permanent after all, he could kiss his career good-bye.
oOo
"What did the doctors say?" Mickey asked her, leaning in the doorframe of the briefing room as he spotted Emma hurrying up the corridor.
"Good morning to you, too," Emma said laughingly as she caught up with him. "I'm fine. It's just a sprain."
"Good to hear that," Sam said, also just now arriving at the briefing room.
The three entered the briefing room where most of the people involved with the investigation were already gathered, waiting for the briefing to start. Even the DCI was already there.
Emma and Mickey quickly took a seat while Sam handed Emma a stack of folders and asked her to pass them around before joining the DCI at the front of the room.
"Everyone here?" Jack asked. "Good, then let's get going. First of all, good news. The hospital just called. PC Fletcher has regained consciousness and is fit to be interviewed. Sam, I want you and Mickey to head over there first thing."
Emma's heart leapt at the news. If the doctors thought Will was fit to be interviewed, that meant that Will was at least on the mend and out of immediate danger. Her day suddenly looked a lot brighter, despite her dreading the upcoming press conference. She had spent most of what had been left of the night after she'd returned from hospital thinking about what she was going to say. This wasn't just a matter of one of two people buying into her cover story like it had been until now. This was a whole different level. There would be journalists there who dug into other people's lives for a living. If one of them found out the truth about who she really was, she didn't even want to think about the consequences.
"Also, the Australian police have gotten back to me. They think they have managed to track down Moira Bliss for us, the real Moira Bliss. The woman, who has been using the Internet cafe to send those emails to Rebecca Williams is one Susan Carpenter, fifty-six years old, unmarried, no children. She's a British national, but has been living in Australia for the past fifteen years. No criminal history, either here or in Australia."
"I guess we can cross her off our list then," Mickey said, sounding just a bit disappointed.
"Not so fast." Jack put up the picture of a middle-aged woman on the whiteboard next to the photograph of the biographer and Will's picture - the pictures of their current suspects.
"The Australian police have also taken a look at Susan Carpenter's financials, and her credit card statements show that a week ago she booked a ticket for a flight to London. Her flight was due to arrive in Heathrow three days ago. Since then, there have been several charges in and around London. Mostly shops, nothing out of the ordinary, but also charges from the Metropole Hotel. It seems like she has been staying there for the past two nights."
"That would put her in London at the time of the murder."
"Exactly," Jack said. "Sergeant Stone, I want you to take one of your team and pay her a visit. Find out what she is doing in England and when the last time was that she'd had contact with her agent. I take it the CCTV hasn't given anything useful yet?"
"Not really. Since the hotel itself doesn't have any CCTV, we've only got the tapes from some of the businesses in the same street. But you can't see the hotel entrance or the parking lot directly on any of them," Stone summarized the previous day's work.
"I know it's frustrating, but keep at it. I'll talk to Inspector Gold and see if we can get some more people to help you out. You know who to look out for." Jack indicated the photographs on the white board. "As you all know, at 3 p.m. this afternoon, Orgon Publishing is going to hold a press conference accompanying the launch of Moira's Bliss' latest book tomorrow. They except Emma to be there and for the moment, we're planning to go ahead with it. But obviously, we can't do that unless Susan Carpenter agrees to let Emma play her part at the press conference. Emma, I want you to accompany Sally and the sergeant to the hotel. Convince her that it is in everyone's best interest for her not to appear at the press conference herself. Of course, if she insists, we can't force her. So be persuasive." Jack smiled briefly before turning serious again. "If she does agree, she is probably the best person to prepare you for the kinds of questions you'll most likely be asked."
"What if she doesn't agree and insists on making the appearance herself?" Mickey asked.
"Good question. I don't know," Jack admitted. "But in that case, let me know immediately. That's all. Off you go; we've got a busy day ahead of ourselves."
oOo
Despite his anxieties and the many unanswered questions on his mind, Will had fallen asleep again almost as soon as Dr. Pearson had left, exhausted from the mere effort of the conversation.
He was woken again by an unpleasant screeching noise. Searching for its source, he saw one of the people he had least expected to turn up sitting in a chair at his bedside.
"Sarge?" Will asked, not sure whether he could believe his eyes. Stone folded and put away the newspaper he'd been reading.
"PC Fletcher. Good to see you awake." The seriousness on his face betrayed the levity of his tone. Something was wrong and Will hated not knowing what it was. Before he could ask, Stone continued. "We need to have a word."
"Sure," Will replied, not sure at all if he was up to it.
"You are going to be asked the same questions by the DPS and probably by CID as well, but I'm asking you now. I need to know what happened at the Blue Parrot bar on Monday."
Monday. Will had to think hard. He had no idea what day it was today, but somehow Monday seemed weeks ago.
"I was there with Sally," Will began, his memory slowly returning to him and with it the realization why Stone was asking about it. "We were called by the owner. There was a customer who was refusing to pay his bill. While we were dealing with the matter, I spotted two men at the bar doing a drug deal right in front of us. Sally and I went to confront them. One of them ran away, Sally chased after him. I stayed to question the other guy."
Will paused, unsure how to continue. It wasn't that he didn't remember. He remembered it all too well and was wondering how much Stone knew already if he was asking about it. He had no idea how it could have gotten out. Not even Sally had known what had really happened. He never should have kept it quiet, Will realized now. He'd landed himself in a right mess that way.
"What happened next?" Stone prompted him impatiently.
"I questioned him, but he refused to give up anything. The only thing I got out of him that he was a Dutch citizen and he was claiming that he was here strictly on business. The next thing I know, I'm in the back room, with the guy holding a knife to my throat." Will's voice wavered as he related what had happened that day.
"He...he forced me to drink some stuff. It must have been drugged, because after that, I don't really remember anything." His hand instinctively found the shallow cut at the side of his neck. It was the one thing that reminded him that it had all been real and hadn't just been a crazy nightmare.
"I must have gotten home somehow because the next morning, I was back in my flat," Will finished his story. It now sounded preposterous to his own ears, but Stone hadn't said anything so far.
"Have you told anyone about this?" Stone finally asked.
Will simply shook his head. He wasn't quite certain why, but he really didn't want to become the laughing stock of the entire station. He had just wanted to forget all about the incident.
"You need to tell the DPS exactly what you have just told me. Did you at least go to hospital or see the FME the next day?"
"No, I didn't. I just called in sick. I know it was stupid," he admitted.
"No going back now. The DPS seems to think that you let this guy buy his way out of an arrest, so you need to tell them the truth."
Will nodded. He knew it was the only way out, but he had his doubts if they would believe him. Stone appeared to believe his story, but he wasn't an easy man to read. Will never knew where he was with Sergeant Stone.
"You should get some rest," Stone suddenly said, sounding unusually compassionate. He got up and turned to leave. "Remember, tell them the truth," he said again and left.
Will sighed and allowed his eyes to close. He was tired, physically as well as emotionally. He had just wanted to forget everything that had happened that day, had wanted to forget how scared he'd been. Now it was all being dragged back to the surface, if he wanted it to or not. And that probably wasn't even the biggest of his worries, he realized.
oOo
The hotel where Susan Carpenter was staying was considerably more up-market than the one where Will and Rebecca had been staying, Emma remarked as Sally and she were getting off the elevator on the fourth floor.
The young man at the front desk had confirmed that there was indeed a Susan Carpenter staying at the hotel and had directed them up to room 446.
It took them a few minutes to find their way from the elevator, but soon they stood in front of the door to room 446.
Sally knocked at the door. No response from inside. She knocked again. Again, there was no response. She knocked for the third time.
"Ms. Carpenter! Police, please open the door," she called out. Finally, they could hear movement on the other side of the door. A moment later, it was opened a few inches wide and a middle-aged woman peered at them through the crack.
"Ms. Carpenter?" Sally asked.
"Can I see your ID please?"
Sally and Emma showed her their warrant cards. Apparently satisfied, she opened the door and allowed them inside.
"Are you Ms. Susan Carpenter?" Sally asked again. "Yes, that's me," she confirmed. "Please, come in."
The two police officers stepped into the room. Despite what the DCI had said during the briefing, Sergeant Stone hadn't come along with them, telling them only that he had something else to take care of. For a hotel room, it was actually quite nice. Certainly not cheap, Emma thought.
"I assume you are here about the death of my agent, Rebecca Williams?" she asked, motioning for them to take a seat at the table. There were only two chairs, so Emma remained standing.
"Yes, that is why we're here," Sally confirmed.
"I thought so. I read about her death in the morning paper." She indicated to a copy of this morning's Canley Gazette, which was lying on the table. "I have to admit that I became very concerned when they mentioned that the manuscript hasn't been found yet. Is that true?"
"Yes, unfortunately, we haven't found it yet," Sally confirmed. "But we are still looking for it. Did you know that Rebecca Williams was pretending to be you?" Emma watched the woman's face carefully when she answered. "Of course I did. I asked her to. The publishing house wanted me to appear at the press conference. I really didn't want to, so I asked Rebecca to play my part."
It sounded plausible, but Emma had her doubts.
"Why did you come to England then, if you didn't want to appear publicly?" Sally asked.
"Research. My books are set in England. I used to live here, but a lot had changed in the past fifteen years. I also handed over my manuscript to Rebecca personally, since I was already here."
"When was that?" Emma asked.
"The day before yesterday, we met in Canley Park. I gave her the manuscript. She promised she would take it straight to the safe at the publishing house. I don't understand how it could have gotten lost." Susan shook her head in disbelief. "You must understand. She had the only copy that exists of this book. Its loss would be a tragedy."
"So, you met her the day she died?"
"I suppose so."
"At what time did you meet?"
"4.30 p.m. We spent maybe an hour together."
"What did you talk about?"
"I don't see how that would concern you."
"This is a murder inquiry, Ms. Carpenter. You were one of the last people to meet Rebecca Williams. Now, what did you talk about?"
"Mainly we talked about the press conference," Susan replied.
"Speaking of the press conference, we believe it would be safer for you if you didn't make an appearance."
Emma felt herself tense as Sally asked the question. Much of their investigation depended on the author agreeing to their plan. Yet at the same time, Emma didn't relish the idea of having to appear in public as Moira Bliss.
"You don't think the person who killed Rebecca was really trying to kill me?" Susan sounded as shocked as Emma would have expected.
"At this point, we can't rule out the possibility that you were the intended target. This is why we propose that an undercover police officer plays your part at the press conference. Only if you agree, of course."
"If you think that is warranted, I don't mind. I would like to speak with the officer though, if that is possible."
"That will be no problem. PC Keane here was the officer we had in mind." Sally indicated Emma.
"You're a bit young my dear, but I guess we can make this work." Despite her apprehension, Emma smiled at her brightly. She hoped that by now Will had told Sam and Mickey his part of the story, but they still needed to make this work to find the real killer.
TBC