A Rush of Blood

Eleven

‘What’s eating you today?’ Griff Montell asked Alice Cowan as she locked their borrowed car. The freezing temperature made his breath hang in the air.

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ she challenged as they headed for the medical centre, a hundred yards away on the street corner. ‘Why should anything be eating me?’

‘I’m talking about that crap back in the office about who’s in charge. That and the fact you’ve been frosting me for a while now. Have you run out of civil words?’

‘No!’ she snapped. And then her face cracked into an involuntary smile as she realised how contradictory her reply had sounded. ‘It’s you who’s been distant with me, Griff. That’s more like the truth.’

Montell was forced on to the back foot. ‘No I haven’t,’ he said, defensively.

‘Oh no? You asked me out on a date a couple of months ago; we had a decent time and we did it again a couple of weeks later. Since then, nothing. Was I boring? Do I turn you off? Do you like your women with less meat on their bones? Have I got BO? Or have you found a better option? Whatever, it would be nice to know so that I can do something about it.’

He stopped, at the kerbside. ‘None of the above,’ he told her. ‘You’re good company, you’re attractive, you smell nice and my reaction to you is entirely positive. And I’m not seeing anyone else either. I just. . I just wanted to pause for thought, that was all.’

‘You’re not still carrying a torch for your ex-wife, are you? Or maybe for Alex Skinner?’

‘I miss my kids,’ he replied, ‘but not their mother. As for Alex, she was a neighbour and she was a friend, end of story. No bridges back there.’ He stopped. ‘Alice, we can’t have this conversation now; we have a job to do.’

‘True,’ she conceded, ‘but it’s not over.’

They crossed the street and approached the surgery. A woman was waiting in the reception area. Her body language radiated impatience; Cowan guessed she had been watching them approach, and had seen them pause.

‘Police?’ she asked.

Montell nodded, introducing himself and his colleague.

‘At last!’ hung in the air, but remained unspoken. ‘Rita Taylor, practice manager,’ was her clipped response. ‘I spoke to your sergeant. Hopefully, you’re fully briefed.’

‘Yes, we are,’ said Cowan. ‘Where is the girl?’

Mrs Taylor turned towards a corridor that led out of the reception and waiting area. ‘She’s in a consulting room. A practice nurse is with her.’

‘And the doctor who did the initial examination?’

‘With another patient at the moment. But there’s not much she could add to what I’ve told you at this stage. Nurse Chetty’s competent, I promise you.’

‘Let’s see her then.’

The detectives followed her into the corridor, to the second door on their left, which opened into a windowless cubicle, furnished with a sink with lever taps, a small desk, two chairs, and an examination table. The young woman who lay on its paper coverlet was dishevelled. Dark roots showed under blond hair that looked lank and in need of a wash. She was wrapped in a blanket, from which her feet protruded, clad in dirty grey carpet slippers.

‘Was she wearing those when she was brought in?’ Montell asked.

The small, brown-complexioned nurse who stood beside the table nodded. ‘Yes. Them and a light cotton dress, that was all. She was freezing; not far off being hypothermic. We’ve warmed her as best we can.’

‘But she’s still not responsive?’

‘No more so than when she was brought in.’

‘Was she carrying anything? A bag, any sort of identification?’

‘No.’

‘Damn it.’ He glanced at Cowan. ‘We’ll need to wait until she can tell us herself who she is.’

She looked at Nurse Chetty. ‘Now you’ve had more time to look at her, any idea what she’s taken?’

‘Not heroin,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m sure of that; I’ve seen plenty of those in my career. She’s not drunk; there’s alcohol involved but it’s just boosted the effect of whatever else is in her system.’

As she spoke, the girl gasped, and whimpered, sounds rather than words, which turned into a squeal. Cowan sat on the edge of the examination table and touched her face. ‘It’s OK,’ she soothed. ‘You’re safe.’ The girl showed no sign of understanding, yet the gesture seemed to calm her.

‘GHB,’ Montell murmured.

‘What?’ his colleague exclaimed.

‘Gamma hydroxyl butyrate, if you want it the hard way. I’ve seen its effects when I worked this area in South Africa. It’s one of the most common date rape drugs, and easily obtainable, because any arsehole with a chemistry set can put it together. It’s illegal to make or possess it and it’s not commercially produced. This girl’s hallucinating; she’s semi-conscious. Those are symptoms of overdose. How’s her heart rate?’ he asked.

‘Very slow,’ said the nurse.

‘Yeah. If it was ketamine, it would probably be higher than normal.’

‘How long does it take to wear off, in your experience?’

Montell raised his eyebrows. ‘Mixed with alcohol, it could be a couple of days.’

‘Do you know how to treat an overdose?’ The question came from behind him. He had forgotten that Mrs Taylor was still in the room.

‘The doctors I worked with used to rehydrate, that’s after they’d pumped the stomach.’ He paused. ‘You might want to do both, and then she should definitely be examined for sexual activity, forced or otherwise, as soon as possible. You should get that doctor along here as soon as you can.’

The practice manager nodded and left. ‘You’d better get her undressed,’ Montell told the nurse, ‘and give her what treatment you can. I’ll step outside while you do that. Alice. .’

‘I know,’ said Cowan, calmly. ‘I’ll stay here to help, and yes, to look for signs of physical abuse.’

‘Of course.’

‘Any thoughts?’ she asked, as he took hold of the door handle.

‘The time of day,’ Montell replied. ‘It’s still only the afternoon, and this girl’s been wandering the streets in Leith. Date rape is what it says; it happens during social interaction. At lunchtime? I don’t buy that. Then there’s the way she’s dressed, and the amount of the stuff she’s got in her system.’ He opened the door. ‘You help the nurse, I’ll do some thinking about this.’