The Key

35

Gabriel sprinted headlong down the street towards the hospital. The moment Arkadian had told him the passenger manifest had already been searched he knew. The Church’s dark forces were making a coordinated move to tidy up their loose ends: first him, then Liv — next his mother.

He concentrated on the rhythm of his feet pounding the tarmac, driving him closer, step by step. He reached a corner and turned into Asklepios Street. Running through the streets like this wasn’t the safest thing to do now his picture had appeared on the news, but he had to balance caution with haste. He reached a turning a third of the way down and rounded it, keeping tight to the houses. Ahead of him the street ended at a junction where the new extension block of the hospital rose up, shining with rain and reflected light. He scanned the upper windows, slowing as he neared the junction, wary of breaking cover into a main road that might have police patrols stationed on it. He stopped a few metres short and looked up from the safety of the shadows.

The main hospital building stretched along the full length of the street. At one end it joined the stone walls of the original building and at the other a covered walkway connected it to a smaller stone building that resembled a castle. This was the old psychiatric wing where the receptionist had said his mother was being kept.

A car swished past and he used the hiss of its tyres to mask his own splashing steps as he dashed to the other side of the street. The ground-floor windows were all boarded up along with a large doorway that had once served as the entrance. High up on the side of the building a scaffold platform jutted out. It was the sort of thing workmen used to hoist materials on to, but there were no ropes hanging down that might help him gain access, they were all curled up and secured to the scaffold poles. The windows to the side of the platform were mostly dark — but not all. Two glowed with light — one in the middle of the row and another at the very end — both on the fourth floor. The hospital receptionist had said his mother was being kept in room 410. His money was on the middle window. He continued to gulp air, relaxing slightly now he had at least located his mother.

Then he felt the vibration.

At first he thought it was thunder, rolling down from the clouds, but when the ground started to shake and a sound like trains in a subway rumbled up from beneath his feet, he realized what it was.

He stepped away from the nearest building, his legs unsteady on the quivering ground as the earthquake took hold of the city. He stopped in the middle of the road, away from any falling debris, his legs planted apart, and looked back up at the fourth-floor window. The shaking increased and the rumbling was joined by the high-pitched wail of hundreds of car and burglar alarms as the quake triggered them. Then, just as the noise and the tremors reached their peak, all the lights in the city went out.

Inside the hospital the sudden darkness was followed by frightened screams that echoed down the corridor from the main building.

Ulvi had managed to jam himself in a doorway and was hanging on to the edge of a wall that was trying to shake itself free from his grasp. There was a crash from way down the hallway as something heavy fell over in one of the partially renovated wards. Outside, car alarms shrieked through the streets like a beast on the loose. To Ulvi it was the sound of opportunity.

Once the earthquake ended, everyone would be busy and disorientated. No one would come running if an emergency alarm suddenly sounded all the way over here. And accidents happened all the time during quakes — falling masonry, broken glass, electricity sparking from severed cables. It was perfect. He just needed to get rid of the cop. He held on until the building finally shook itself still. The distant screaming seemed louder in the sudden quiet and it had been joined by the wail of alarms from various pieces of medical equipment throughout the building.

Ahead of him Ulvi saw the figure of the cop let go of a doorframe and step into the dust-filled corridor. He was looking towards a soft glow of light at the end of the corridor where most of the noise was coming from. The emergency power was clearly working in the main building, but the corridor remained dark.

‘You think we should check out the lights?’ Ulvi said, moving up the corridor towards the light. ‘Someone must be able to get the power back on for us.’

‘No,’ the cop stepped ahead of him. ‘You stay here and check the rooms. Make sure no one’s hurt.’

Ulvi stopped and watched the cop march forward and disappear round the corner. He smiled. He had never seen him go into the room that contained the monk and had gambled on this small observation to give him his chance. If the cop had avoided it in daylight there was no way he would want to go in now in pitch darkness. Ulvi’s offer to go and check what was happening with the lights had been calculated to make the cop volunteer instead. And he had, so now Ulvi was alone. He took the room keys from his pocket and used the light from his mobile phone to find the one with 410 stamped on it.

Ladies first, he thought, then moved through the darkness towards Kathryn Mann’s door.