“Sure. I’ll put in those hours of work.” Manning got to her feet. “But sorry, Sarge. It will be tomorrow morning.”
“What about Alice Madsen?”
“She’ll have to wait.” Manning stepped towards the door and looked back. “Sometimes Sarge, the question I gotta ask is ‘What about Liz Manning?’ There’s only so much I can give.” She paused for a moment. “Same goes for you.”
86
In the morning, Cole decided he’d had enough of hangovers. He felt shit. No other way to put it. He stood and stared at the photograph of Daz in the lounge and drank a mug of tea. End of life processes? No way. He told himself Daz would be all right, but the internal words rang hollow as he realised the doctors might be right. He took a sudden gasp of breath as the realisation hit, and for a moment he thought he would break into tears, but he squeezed his eyes tight and clenched his fists until the feeling passed.
“All right, Daz. I’m gonna come see you. Gonna concentrate on you for a few days. Stay clean until you get better, you know?” He stopped and reconsidered the last intention. “Well, I ain't making no promises, know what I mean?” He was sure Daz wouldn't mind, anyway, it wasn't like Daz could hear or anything.
After he showered and shaved, he rummaged through his clothes for something that met a broad definition of clean to wear. It took longer than it should, and he bundled as much laundry as would fit in a refuse sack. He’d pay the fiver it cost for a service wash while he went to Hammersmith to see Daz.
At the hospital, Daz looked the same. Neither better nor worse. There was no sign of Ibrahim and the nurse was non-committal when Cole asked if there’d been any change in his condition. The machines still beeped and Daz still lived. Cole pondered the philosophical nature of Daz’s life, but he refused to delve into it, lest he didn't like the implications.
For several hours Cole read the paper by Daz’s side, and every now and then, he would relate a story or a snippet of a story aloud. But Daz couldn't reply, and as time passed, Cole felt more foolish talking out loud when it was obvious Daz didn't have a clue what was going on, so he stopped and kept the words to himself.
A different doctor came by, nodded at Cole and examined the machines.
“He’s my brother,” Cole said.
The doctor nodded. “I see.” He approached Cole and looked grave. “Has anyone spoken to you about possible next steps?”
“Why? You want to switch off the machines?” Cole looked at his name tag. Mr David Stenson, Consultant Neurologist.
“It may come to that. But not yet. The problem is his brain functions are lowering. There has been a plateau over the last 24 hours, which means he’s not getting any worse, but he’s not getting better either.”
“What if he doesn't get better?”
Stenson winced. “All of us will have a decision to make.”
“How long?”
Stenson pulled on his chin. “Two or three days.”
Cole looked at Daz, then back to Stenson. “Days, huh?”
Stenson nodded. “I’ll speak with Mr Ibrahim on Monday. Why don't you come in then and we’ll discuss the situation?”
Cole’s eyes glazed over, and he flexed his fingers. “That’s only two days.”
Stenson spread his hands. “We’ll know better then. Say 11:30AM?”
“Sure.”
“Okay then. I’ll leave you to him.”
Alone with Daz once more, Cole stood and took Daz’s hand in his. A hard lump formed in his throat and he tried to swallow, but he couldn't. “Don't leave me, Daz. Please? Don't do this to me.”
Cole stared and willed Daz to wake and speak. But Daz just lay motionless and machines went beep, beep, beep.
87
Laura dropped into the Xtra News office to file her expenses. As she completed the forms, she saw Burnham stand at his office door. When they made eye contact, he beckoned at her.
She scowled and got to her feet. He smiled as she entered the office. “Have a seat,” he said.
“I’m supposed to be off. Only dropped in some receipts.”
He put his hand up. “I was speaking with Sally this morning and it turns out an unknown assailant sexually assaulted Alice Madsen in her home. I suggested we do a follow up piece on the social media threats and how they migrated from the digital world to the real world.” He rubbed his chin and smiled. “Sally thinks it’s a great idea.”
“Really? You suggested?”
He nodded. “It’s a different thing to what you proposed, Laura. You’ll be the reporter. You should also interview some of the people who were there, perhaps Lewis Cole, the guy you interviewed at the scene?”
Laura ground her teeth together and her narrowed her eyes.
Burnham waved his pen at her. “If you want this, you will say, ‘Thank you, Tim. That’s great.’ If you don’t want it, you can speak your mind.”
Laura took a deep breath and put on her most insincere smile. “Thank you, Tim. That’s great.”
“You’re welcome.”
88
Alice decided she couldn't stay in the hotel room until the police caught the stalker. “I’ll go mad,” she said to Ian. “And so will you. He won't break down our door during the day, so even if we spend a few nights in the hotel, we can go home during the day. As long as you're with me, I should be safe.”
“I don't know.”
“What don't you know? Are you afraid of him?”
“A little, yeah.”
“He wants me, not you. He’s not going to tie you to
