Allegro 7

Adagio and previous chapters here:

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Moore, Lloyd and others.

Dominic unlocked the door and went in. He flipped on the lights, locked the door behind him. I am so weary. The hours at the Swiss police station hadn't helped. His hand throbbed all the way through the questioning. The papers he had to sign, left-handed of course caused him pain. His right hand was sore from the fight. He looked down at his left hand. It is still shaking. It was the pain. I couldn't very well toss a couple tablets in my mouth in front of the police, now, could I? And uniforms tailed me through the station every moment. These are sensitive times, and British citizens are suspect. St. Mary's has been in the news lately. He saw the way the Swiss officers had looked at him. Afraid. He shook his head. He reached into the pocket of his Mac and took out the canister, then used his teeth to open it. Two. I need two, I think. He glanced down at his bloody bandages. They wanted to take me to hospital…but no. The hours spent dealing with the hospital bureaucracy would have been counter productive. I need to sleep, then be gone.

But first, deal with this. He shrugged half of himself out of the Mac, then, gritting his teeth carefully pulled his right hand through the sleeve. Times like this it would be nice to have help. He lay the Mac across a chair. Warmth, lights on when I get home. Warm food. No take away, no hastily-made sandwich and a beer. And a smile. That warms me more than the food. Someone who cares.

He sat at the little hotel table where he kept his medical supplies, lifted his right arm slowly and set it down on the polished surface. But no help for me tonight. I have no one, after Laura left me, no one. But it's not just me. Police work is hard on relationships. He thought about Finch's women. Cynthia. The Inspector had said she was sweet when he married her, but police work ruined her disposition. And his son Paul. He was delightful. Bright, cheerful, always curious, always wanted to know what was developing in each case we worked. I used to go over for supper many times. Many times. Paul and I would wrestle on the living room floor. Dominic paused, remembering. One time I taught him some jujitsu in the front room. We broke the sofa table that day. I wasn't invited to supper for a month after that. Dom set his jaw and picked up the medical shears. After the accident, we didn't talk about it much. The Inspector had become quiet then. Switched from pints to scotch. It is hard to go home to an empty house. I know. Dominic slid the shears under his bandage and slowly cut the gauze in a straight line along the back of his hand. Paul would have been in University now. Slowly, slowly, he snipped, stopping here and there where the dried blood cemented the gauze to his skin. He cut through the crusty parts, knew he would have to soak the gauze in something. What? Peroxide? Probably. Dominic leaned forward to lift the brown bottle out of the kit. I had the Inspector over to my place after the accident. Laura tried to help. Not what Eric needed; Laura was too flighty. I didn't know what to say. What can you say when a man's entire family is killed? Nothing. After Laura left me, the Inspector and I just sat in dark pubs, staring at the walls.

No. It is hard to please a woman, keep her happy. Police work means long hours, travel. And I know I have developed an inability to carry on a polite conversation. My mind will always drift back to the case. And, now, after fifteen years, what's on the telly, who's shagging who, and what is the "in color" of the new season just do not seem important. Not when there are people dying, stealing, plotting. I have become a terrible companion for any woman.

He peeled back the bloody bandages and dropped them into the rubbish can beside his leg. The stitches had come away. I figured as much. The surgeon had insisted on old-fashioned stitches when Dominic had told him he wouldn't be sticking around for follow up visits. The surgeon had said they would be more durable. Dominic snorted. Durable. He poured more peroxide over his hand. And then Delia. Finch had brightened up during those few weeks. But that relationship would inevitably fail. Dominic knew it from the start. The first night they had gone out together to the pub. I had brought Laura. Delia did not like her. The two women sat glaring at each other the whole night. There were no more double dates after that, and Finch came into the office one day a few weeks later, hung up and his coat and just looked at me. I knew. And then Laura left me. I went home to a cold dark flat. He grimaced as the peroxide foamed over his hand. Again.

He sopped up the pink peroxide that spilled over his thumb and onto the table with a towel. He reached for a package of gauze and carefully dabbed the long surgical slice that ran across the back of his hand. I will have to use tweezers to pick out the bits of ruined stitches. He opened the sterile package and lifted out a pair of tweezers. Damn. I could really use some help. The pain medicine has kicked in. The warm glow from the twin tablets dulled more than the stabbing pain in his hand. He blinked as he pulled a long black filament from his skin. Pay attention. The tweezers blurred. I could use some help. He fumbled with the gauze, dabbed at the blossoming pearls of blood that welled up from the wound. Evey. She would know what to do. She is not like the other women. He paused, stared at the wall, trying to focus his eyes. No. She is not like any others at all. He remembered her kind smile, her soft touch on his body when she changed his bandages. She was so careful with me, like I was fragile. She spoke to me with confidence about art and music and books. Never once about fashion or the telly. Never. Where are you Eve? His fingers dropped the tweezers and they clattered off the edge of the table onto the floor. Painkillers aren't helping at all. He closed his eyes. Not with this kind of pain.

XXX

The Chief Inspector punched his speed dial again. This time he heard it ring.

"Stone."

"Dominic." Finch sat down in his chair and reached for his glass.

"Inspector."

"Am I to assume I will be receiving a report from the Swiss police?"

"Yes, sir. Probably tomorrow."

"I'm sending you something. Don't leave until you get it."

"Sir? I was planning on leaving tomorrow…I mean later today."

Finch rolled his wrist to see his watch without spilling his drink. Yes it is a new day. "You can wait a day. I sent it express."

"A day…"

Finch heard the desolation in his voice. "You need to rest. I insist. And you will need what is in this package. How are you feeling?"

"I'm ok."

He's lying. "I called your Mum today." This means the next bits are in code.

"How is she?" He understands.

"She says your auntie is doing worse." I have bad news.

"Is she in hospital?

"Yes. I am afraid she is very ill." It is serious.

"I am sorry to hear that. What shall I do for her?"

"Do not bring back any souvenirs." Do not bring Miss Hammond back.

"Not even a small one?"

He is talking about the baby. "No. You remember her poodle?"

"Yes."

"She says the dog will find it and swallow it if it is too small." Her baby is in danger here.

"I don't remember the dog being so stupid."

He doesn't understand. "He's gone off his head with her being in the hospital." Things are not going well.

"I'm worried about her."

Easy enough to understand that. "Trust me. Do not bring her any souvenirs. Send her flowers instead."

"Of course, Inspector."

"Your Mum sends her love." Code is over. "How is your hand?"

"Fine."

He's lying to me again. "Dominic," Finch made his voice sound ominous.

"Yes sir. It was injured, but I have fixed it up. Tape, gauze. It will be fine. A few days, a week…I am taking the antibiotics. There is no more infection."

Finch listened carefully. This is the truth. Very well, then. But something is wrong. Is it about Massey? "How did it go down? Should I wait for the report, or…"

"My uncle called me yesterday."

"Did he now?" Code again.

"He told me that you were right about his lumbago."

"Excellent." I am relieved.

"He warned that it might come back at any moment, though. Doctors say it is an unusual case. Might turn up again."

"I am sorry to hear that." So Massey is on the loose. Hunting both Miss Hammond and Dominic.

"That is why he wants to take preventative medicines." Dominic stressed the word 'preventative'.

Clever boy. You might be able to prevent him from finding her, but not if you are ill. No. You have to rest up. One day. He said pointedly"Too much medicine can be counter-productive."

"But he is afraid of the pain. He says it makes him anxious."

Oh, Dominic. "I will send her some flowers" Wait for my package.

"Thank you, sir. She will appreciate it."

He will wait. He doesn't like it, but he will wait.

XXX

Evey sat in the waiting room, unread magazines on her lap. The clinic had told her they would call her if the results were normal. The receptionist had called her, but instead of giving her the results of the amnio, she had been asked to come in to speak to the doctor. Evey stared at the pictures on the green wall. Some boats in a harbor. Her teeth started to hurt, and she realized she had been clenching them together the twenty minutes she had been waiting. She jumped when the nurse spoke to her.

"Mrs. Abernathy?" Evey stood up so suddenly the magazines spilled to the floor. She bent her knees to pick them up since she could no longer bend over like normal people. The nurse stopped her. "I'll get them later. Please follow me." Evey did not like the ominous sympathy she heard in the nurse's voice. She picked up her bag and followed her into the examination room; each step was harder to take.

The doctor smiled warmly and motioned for her to sit. She did, setting her bag under the chair. She sat with her knees pressed tightly together and her hands knotted over the bulge of her belly. She tried to smile back, but gave up. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"Please do not be alarmed, Mrs. Abernathy. It is true that we are puzzled, but there is no indication of anything pathological. As I told you when you had your first ultrasound, there seems to be an excess of amniotic fluid. We took a large sample. It seems that your baby has an unusual genetic sequence. Several key chromosomes are either damaged or appear to be unknown."

"But he is all right?" Evey said when she felt she could breathe again.

"His heart and nervous system appear to be normal, if not slightly accelerated. His morphology…excuse me, his body is growing normally, arms, legs, fingers, toes. But because we have never seen these genetic anomalies before, I cannot tell you what their effects might be. What I want to do is have you come in every two weeks instead of every month. We will do an ultrasound every visit, and keep track of his development, and I have called in a Geneticist, Dr. Marveaux, who will be monitoring the results of all your tests."

"Yes, of course," she answered. The doctor looked uncomfortable, and Evey knew there was more. She felt her cheek twitch.

"And there's another thing, Mrs. Abernathy. The baby's blood is a different type than yours. Very different. You say you do not know Mr. Abernathy's blood type?"

"Ah. No. He never mentioned it."

"Could you get his medial records for us? It might explain a great deal."

"No. That will be impossible. What is the trouble? It is not the Rh factor?"

"No. No. We know what to do in a case like that. No. This is much different. It is a very rare type, one that is usually only seen when both parents have the same type. Since you are O+, it is unusual, if not unique, to see it inherited this way."

"I see. And this will not cause him to have any health risks?"

"Not that we know of." The doctor sat down on his examining table, looked at her with undisguised curiosity. "He has immunities to the St. Mary's virus. Did you have the virus?"

"No, but I was exposed fifteen years ago."

"Your blood does not have the kind of antibodies we expected to see. We assumed you had had the virus recently. I mean in the last twenty three weeks, while you were pregnant. Babies cannot inherit antibodies from their parents, but can receive protection from disease through their mother's immune system. If you have never had the virus, it is a mystery as to how the baby possesses them and you do not." The doctor looked at her as though he expected her to explain this. Evey stared back. The doctor frowned. "You are certain his father's medical records are unavailable?"

Evey kept a straight face. I imagine those records are classified in some vault somewhere. You will not get the information you crave, Dr. Sevier. His "doctors" are dead. He killed them all. She bowed her head over her hands so he would not see her lie."They were all lost or destroyed in the recent upheavals at home." I look like I am overcome with grief. And I am. But relief as well. The baby is healthy. Thank goodness.

"I see." There was a long uncomfortable silence. "Well. You are taking your vitamins?"

"Yes."

"Good. And you are suffering no unpleasant symptoms? Swelling? Pain? Cramping? Are you still feeling sick in the mornings? The nausea lasted longer for you than is normal. It's important that you are eating."

"No. The nausea is gone. I am eating. Lovely French food, beautiful food. I feel fine. A little tired, perhaps. My feet hurt."

"Get plenty of rest, sit with your feet elevated. Call me if anything else develops. And the baby is moving regularly? You feel him every day?"

"Yes. He is very active at night."

"Excellent. You call me if a day goes by and you do not feel him." Dr. Sevier stood up and offered her his hand. "One more thing, Mrs. Abernathy. It is my recommendation that this baby be delivered by Cesarean section. Indications are that the amniotic fluid will continue to increase, which creates several risk factors in itself, above and beyond the added uncertainties of the baby's genetic anomalies. It would be best to deliver him in a surgical theatre with the Pediatric surgeon standing by."

Evey was aware that her mouth was open. She closed it. You saved that for last on purpose, didn't you?

"Ms. Jardin will make your next appointment."