He slipped into the building. I moved around the grounds willing everything to stay quiet. I could hear the soft pounding of the sea; a light wind moved the tops of the trees. Edgy and alert, I heard every bird call and dog bark; a ship hooted far away to the east. Nothing moved in the hospital grounds. I stationed myself by the alarm of one of the buildings near the swimming pool and squinted down to the administration block. Greenway had had about half an hour. A faint light showed in a window that should have been dark. The light moved. I swore.
My swearing seemed to act as a signal. The male nurse I’d seen before came out of the north wing and checked his watch. He looked around and saw the light. I broke the circuit and the alarm shrilled above me. The nurse came out again, this time with another man I recognised as the rabbit killer expert. I ducked back and moved across to a second building. They ran towards me. I broke another magic eye beam and a second alarm joined in with a high-pitched wail.
I tried to focus on the door, willing Greenway to come out but he didn’t. I could hear the two men running, not far away now. I was near the swimming pool where there was no cover. If they looked in the right direction they’d see me. I looked down the slope again and saw a red winking light. The high main gate was suddenly caught in the full beam of a patrol car’s headlights. Lights came on around the swimming pool; I was standing at the deep end, plainly visible in dark clothes in the eerie green light.
‘Hey, you!’ The rabbit puncher rushed towards me. His name was stencilled on the pocket of his starched uniform shirt-POPE. I ran around the edge of the pool. He came after me, quick and eager. I tripped on something made of metal and he was on me. He had short arms and came in pumping hard, clubbing punches. I ducked under a clumsy haymaker and punched him hard and low. He gasped and let go with a roundhouse swing that would have taken my head off. I rammed him in the groin with my tool bag-and he screamed and fell.
More lights were coming on and I could hear shouts. I still couldn’t see any sign of Greenway. Then I saw what had tripped me-a can of petrol standing beside a motor mower. A plastic oil can sat in the grass catcher. I grabbed the cans, unscrewed their lids and splashed them out into the swimming pool. I heard a groan and a protest from Pope. He was crawling along the edge of the pool towards me.
‘Get away!’ I had matches in the tool bag. I groped for them, lit five or six together. The man rolled off to his left as I threw the blazing matches into the pool. There was a roar and a sheet of flame leapt five metres in the air and danced across the lapping water.
16
I ran away from the intense heat and light into the darkness, working my way towards the meeting point with Greenway. There was a lot of noise-men and women shouting and one of the alarms was still ringing. I heard glass break. Ahead I saw a flash of white and a crouched, fast moving figure.
‘Greenway?’
‘Here.’ He was carrying a bundle of paper, struggling to keep the flapping sheets under control. ‘What the hell did you do?’
‘Later. Let’s go!’
We raced up the slope towards our exit in the fence. I sneaked a look back before we scrambled through: the fire was dying down in the swimming pool; the front gate was open and the patrol car had pulled up in front of Smith’s flat. Lights were on everywhere-in the flat, in the wards and in the administration building.
We were both panting when we reached the car. Lights showed in some of the houses; shapes moved at windows. No time to hang about. I threw the bag into the car and gunned the motor. Greenway clutched his paper to his chest as we took off fast, the way the old Falcon never would.
We travelled a few minutes in silence. The eye I’d damaged a few years back that sometimes gave me trouble when I was under stress was aching now and watering. I slowed down. ‘There’s a flask of rum in the tool bag,’ I said. ‘Let’s have a drink.’
Greenway gave me first swig and then took one himself. ‘We did it!’ he said. ‘What was burning?’
‘The swimming pool. You don’t think I’d set fire to a hospital, do you? Did you find out what we wanted?’
‘Some of it. I haven’t exactly had time to analyse it thoroughly… ‘ He giggled and took another drink.
‘Okay. We don’t want you going into shock. Calm down.’ I could feel him glaring at me as I drove and I realised that the sarcasm was my expression of relief. I reached across for the rum. ‘We’ll stop somewhere soon and take a look. You did pretty well.’
He was glad to be mollified. ‘So did you. Some diversion.’
‘Yeah. I hope nobody got hurt. Have another small swig.’
We stopped at a take-away chicken place wedged in between the car yards in Kirrawee. I bought some chicken and Coca Cola and took it to one of the two tables. The tired-looking girl serving eyed me suspiciously. She pushed back her orange-dyed hair and rested her hip against the counter. ‘How long youse goin’ to be?’
‘Why?’ I said.
‘I’m closin’ up in twenny minutes.’
‘That’s long enough.’ I realised I was hungry. I ate the chicken and sipped the Coca Cola, after I’d put rum in it. Greenway was sorting papers. He ate some chicken; he had natural good manners and was careful not to get grease on the sheets. ‘What did you get?’
‘The patients are or were, Michael McCleod, Renee Riatoli, Eddy Forster and John O’Brien.’
‘Why were they there?’
‘Drugs.’
‘What? Drugs!’ The girl looked sharply at us and checked her watch. I dropped my voice. ‘Drug problems and they were operated on?’
‘That’s what it looks like. There’s a lot of psychology stuff-depression and all that, but when you boil it down… ‘
‘Shit! Where are they now?’
He shrugged. ‘Don’t know. I didn’t have much time and getting into some of the files was complicated. They sort of… exited the filing system. The codes’re a bit difficult to follow. I printed some of it out. I tell you, the printer sounded like a machine gun in there.’
‘What about the staff and the money angle?’
‘Nothing on the money. It’d have taken all night to get into that. The staff stuff’s strange, man. It’s as if files are being kept on them too, like the patients. Some of it’s stuff they wouldn’t like everyone to know. Kinky…’
‘Spare me. Is there a doctor with “K” in his name?’
‘Several. Some of the files are hard copy, I mean paper. The personnel stuff has photographs, good ones.’
‘That’d be in filing cabinets. How’d you handle that?’
‘In for a penny in for a pound. I jemmied them with a metal ruler. I took a chance and used the Xerox machine.’
‘That must’ve been the light I saw.’
‘There was no way to shield it.’
Greenway drank, and ate some more chicken; he licked his fingers and I noticed that his hands were steady. He’d handled himself very coolly throughout. ‘It doesn’t matter now,’ I said. ‘Let’s see the pictures.’
He arranged them on the table. I glanced at the seven faces quickly and then examined each in turn closely. I held up the third. Greenway nodded.
‘Dr Bruce Krey. He fits physically. Bald, see. No moustache but look at his shoulders. And his personal file’s a beauty. He’s had a fair bit of treatment over the years. Boy, does he have problems. I copied a fair bit of his file, didn’t bother with the others. Hardy?’
I was scarcely listening. The face was that of the doctor who’d examined me as I was regaining consciousness at the hospital on day one. His bald head had been covered then by some kind of cap. I’d misheard his name as ‘Grey’.
Greenway was looking pleased with himself. ‘Here’s the trump card. Shit, where is it?’ He shuffled the papers frantically.
