Read Online Blood Tribute (The Lucas Gedge Thrillers Book 1) by Andy Emery - Free Book Online
Authors: Andy Emery
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time.
After a few seconds, she looked at him.
‘I’m glad you’ve told me, father. It must mean you trust me.’
‘I do, of course I do.’
‘And I, you. I think I can see how you feel, about staying away from all that. But in a way, it’s a waste.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re meant for better things than doing a bit of painting and fixing someone’s privy. Not that you should go back to killing people, but you seem to be a man who wants to see justice done. Someone who can help people.’
‘Very profound for a sixteen-year-old girl.’
Hannah bristled. ‘I’m a young woman, not a girl, and some of us think women can think just as profound thoughts as men, given half a chance.’
‘I give in, I give in. If it’s any consolation, I may be doing some work for this chap I saw the other week. Rondeau. Although don’t get your hopes up. It probably won’t be very exciting.’
They wandered the grounds a little more, talking and laughing, before Hannah told Gedge that she was fed up with people giving them funny looks, because of the smell. They left the zoo and walked back to the bus stop.
G edge left Hannah at the corner of Barnet Grove and watched her all the way to the front door. At the doorstep, she turned and waved, smiling.
Back at the Inn, he found a note from Polly, asking him to come over to White Lion Street that evening, if he could.
11
‘ G ood afternoon , Mr Ackerman. Your mother’s been asking after you.’
The door was opened by the orderly called McInally, dressed in the standard white coat.
‘Are you sure? That would require a lucidity she doesn’t normally possess.’
‘Oh yes, sir. But you’d better speak to Doctor Whitehead himself. He will, of course, be able to tell you of the significance, or not.’
‘Quite so.’ The pompous oaf. Ackerman knew his sort: putting on a uniform made him think he had some sort of authority, when in fact he was just a lackey. He would have a word with Whitehead about McInally; he was getting above his station. In Ackerman’s normal world, he would now be lying crumpled on the floor with broken ribs or worse. He allowed the obsequious fool to take him to his mother’s room.
‘The doctor will be along shortly, sir. He’s just finishing his rounds.’
‘Very well.’ Ackerman reflected that the “rounds” shouldn’t take long, as the private hospital only had about twenty patients.
Ackerman looked through the circular window in the door to his mother’s room. She was sitting up in bed, smiling, staring out of the window at the hospital’s garden. For a moment, he dithered. Could he just retrace his steps, claim that he’d remembered something important, and leave without actually seeing her?
A familiar voice called out from behind him, in a rich Scottish brogue.
‘Mr Ackerman! I’m glad you’re here, sir.’
‘Dr Whitehead. How are you?’
‘Very well, but before we go in… Trying not to be indelicate, but I just wanted to remind you that the fees will be due in another week, without which we cannot provide the care that your mother needs.’
‘I am well aware of that, doctor. Don’t concern yourself. I will pay the fees by the required date.’
‘Just so. I’m sure a gentleman of your obvious talents must be in a very interesting line of work? We never seem to have discussed it.’
‘On the contrary. It’s actually not very interesting at all. I suppose you could say I’m in trade: import and export. Mostly export. All very dull. Now, I’m afraid I don’t have all day. Can we please go in and see my mother?’
‘Yes, of course. Please excuse me for prattling on. Come along, then.’
Ackerman balked again at the pomposity; it seemed endemic in this place. Possibly it was in all institutions. A good reason for avoiding them whenever possible. Whitehead led the way into the room.
‘Mrs Ackerman! Hello. Look who’s here to see you. It’s your son.’
She slowly turned her head, and stared at
After a few seconds, she looked at him.
‘I’m glad you’ve told me, father. It must mean you trust me.’
‘I do, of course I do.’
‘And I, you. I think I can see how you feel, about staying away from all that. But in a way, it’s a waste.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re meant for better things than doing a bit of painting and fixing someone’s privy. Not that you should go back to killing people, but you seem to be a man who wants to see justice done. Someone who can help people.’
‘Very profound for a sixteen-year-old girl.’
Hannah bristled. ‘I’m a young woman, not a girl, and some of us think women can think just as profound thoughts as men, given half a chance.’
‘I give in, I give in. If it’s any consolation, I may be doing some work for this chap I saw the other week. Rondeau. Although don’t get your hopes up. It probably won’t be very exciting.’
They wandered the grounds a little more, talking and laughing, before Hannah told Gedge that she was fed up with people giving them funny looks, because of the smell. They left the zoo and walked back to the bus stop.
G edge left Hannah at the corner of Barnet Grove and watched her all the way to the front door. At the doorstep, she turned and waved, smiling.
Back at the Inn, he found a note from Polly, asking him to come over to White Lion Street that evening, if he could.
11
‘ G ood afternoon , Mr Ackerman. Your mother’s been asking after you.’
The door was opened by the orderly called McInally, dressed in the standard white coat.
‘Are you sure? That would require a lucidity she doesn’t normally possess.’
‘Oh yes, sir. But you’d better speak to Doctor Whitehead himself. He will, of course, be able to tell you of the significance, or not.’
‘Quite so.’ The pompous oaf. Ackerman knew his sort: putting on a uniform made him think he had some sort of authority, when in fact he was just a lackey. He would have a word with Whitehead about McInally; he was getting above his station. In Ackerman’s normal world, he would now be lying crumpled on the floor with broken ribs or worse. He allowed the obsequious fool to take him to his mother’s room.
‘The doctor will be along shortly, sir. He’s just finishing his rounds.’
‘Very well.’ Ackerman reflected that the “rounds” shouldn’t take long, as the private hospital only had about twenty patients.
Ackerman looked through the circular window in the door to his mother’s room. She was sitting up in bed, smiling, staring out of the window at the hospital’s garden. For a moment, he dithered. Could he just retrace his steps, claim that he’d remembered something important, and leave without actually seeing her?
A familiar voice called out from behind him, in a rich Scottish brogue.
‘Mr Ackerman! I’m glad you’re here, sir.’
‘Dr Whitehead. How are you?’
‘Very well, but before we go in… Trying not to be indelicate, but I just wanted to remind you that the fees will be due in another week, without which we cannot provide the care that your mother needs.’
‘I am well aware of that, doctor. Don’t concern yourself. I will pay the fees by the required date.’
‘Just so. I’m sure a gentleman of your obvious talents must be in a very interesting line of work? We never seem to have discussed it.’
‘On the contrary. It’s actually not very interesting at all. I suppose you could say I’m in trade: import and export. Mostly export. All very dull. Now, I’m afraid I don’t have all day. Can we please go in and see my mother?’
‘Yes, of course. Please excuse me for prattling on. Come along, then.’
Ackerman balked again at the pomposity; it seemed endemic in this place. Possibly it was in all institutions. A good reason for avoiding them whenever possible. Whitehead led the way into the room.
‘Mrs Ackerman! Hello. Look who’s here to see you. It’s your son.’
She slowly turned her head, and stared at
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