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244 lines
13 KiB
HTML
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<h2>29</h2>
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<p>His dreams were beset by visions.</p>
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<p>In the deep dark the images came looming up close and he saw
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again the baby cuckoo hunched within the nest. Behind the
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translucent lids he could make out the red of the eyeball twisting
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and turning, trying to see. It struggled with the egg, getting
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underneath it, bracing its legs against the sides and the egg
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cracked open and a thin, warted thing came uncoiling to get its
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sucker mouth onto the bird. Even in the dream he knew this was
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wrong and he tried to turn away from it, but the creature held him
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as it held the fledgling and he saw it was no longer a cuckoo, but
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a child in a cot and the warted thing was hunched over it, its
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circular lamprey mouth straining to suck at its helpless eyes.</p>
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<p>He reeled back in disgust and horror, knowing he had seen this
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before, twisting away and he fell into the water, sinking down and
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down into the thick mud. Under his feet something stirred and he
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knew it was a sucker-fish, a lamprey with its great flat mouth and
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its circle of teeth and he tried to swim away, but it twisted and
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changed and he saw it was no fish. The black bulk of a dragonfly
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larva scuttled up, its hinged and alien jaw snapping at him,
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armoured with deadly spines. He climbed, in desperate fear,
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climbing for his life and it scuttled after him while above him the
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crows were falling from the tees, cawing madly. Below, the black
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nightmare scuttled after him and he climbed further, trying to get
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away. He risked a look back and saw it stop.</p>
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<p>It arched outwards and the skin of its back split down the
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middle. Two red eyes came poking through, forcing the torn edges of
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the skin apart. Out of the shell, metamorphosing in the dying light
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of day, Helen Lamont clambered, but her eyes were now wide and red
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and her skin was sagging and her breasts were huge. Dark clotted
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blood dripped between her legs.</p>
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<p>“It got me,” she mouthed at him, “It gave me
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the sickness and now it’s inside me.”</p>
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<p>He reeled back, lost his grip and fell away while she looked
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down on him and he knew he had failed. A heavy weight of loss and
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regret came rolling over him and he fell and fell and fell
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and...</p>
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<p>He woke.</p>
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<p>His hollow cry of panic and despair echoed round the room.
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Bright lights stabbed his eyes and he flinched from the glare. Pain
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drilled into his side and thudded in the back of his head and he
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felt reality slip away from him again.</p>
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<p>A cool, soft hand slid over his forehead.</p>
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<p>“You’ve come back to us then?” He risked
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opening his eyes again and the light was less painful. A pretty
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nurse was smiling at him in welcome and for a moment he was
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completely bewildered. He almost asked where he was, then realised
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he must be in a hospital. He drew in a breath, felt it rasp in his
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throat and he coughed reflexively. Immediately he regretted that.
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His throat burned like acid.</p>
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<p>“Drink,” he managed to rasp.</p>
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<p>“Yes, you’ll be a bit sore for the while,” she
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said in a lilting Dublin accent and she sounded like an angel from
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heaven to David Harper. “There was a lot of dirt in your
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lungs and you’ve had enough antibiotics to stop a
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horse.”</p>
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<p>“How long?” he tried, and it came out a whisper.</p>
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<p>“Only a day and a half,” she told him. “Doctor
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thinks the cold water saved you. It slows the metabolism, you
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see.” She took his temperature, gentle with the thermometer.
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“You’ve two broken ribs and a nasty cut on your
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arm.”</p>
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<p>He didn’t remember the cut. The nurse checked the
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thermometer, failed to react and he knew he would live to fight
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another day. His head pounded, deep dull thuds in time to the beat
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of his heart and every breath brought a stab of discomfort. He
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managed to convey his pain to the nurse and she gave him a tablet.
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Swallowing was an ordeal, but finally it got past the rasped
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rawness of his throat. A few minutes later it started to work and
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the hurt fuzzed at the edges then started to dissipate.</p>
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<p>Two hours after that, he woke up again, not realising he had
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slept. The nurse brought him a drink, eased him up on the pillow,
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told him he had visitors and opened the door. He expected Helen
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Lamont, but, disappointingly it was his boss, Donal Bulloch along
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with Bert Millar from the Western Division. Their bulk and height
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cut out a lot of the light which was a blessing. His head still
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ached.</p>
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<p>The two senior men sat down and looked him over.</p>
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<p>“You’ll live then,” the Chief Superintendent
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half-asked. “Bad time of the year to be swimming.”</p>
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<p>“Is she all right?” he asked.</p>
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<p>“Which one of many?” Bulloch asked. “I suppose
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you mean WPC Lamont. She’ll live as well. A bit of hysterics
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and a bit of a chill, nothing much. She’s tough. The
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farmer’s wife, she’s still alive, but for how long,
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nobody knows. Another tough one. She’s beat all the odds so
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far.”</p>
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<p>“Did you find it?”</p>
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<p>Both men looked at each other, then back at him.</p>
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<p>“When you say “it”, what are we talking
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about?” The chief asked.</p>
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<p>“The thing. The baby.”</p>
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<p>“We’ve had two teams of divers down the whole
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stretch,” Bert Millar said, “and the place has been
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dragged. We got four dead dogs and two large pike and an expensive
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artificial leg that hasn’t been explained. Nothing
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else.” He leaned closer to the bed. “Did you get a look
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at this baby?”</p>
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<p>David shook his head. “Just a glimpse. It was no baby. I
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couldn’t say what the hell it was.”</p>
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<p>“That’s our problem,” Donal Bulloch
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interjected. “There’s a lot of media interest in this.
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I’ve spoken to Phil Cutcheon, after Mr Millar here briefed me
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on what you told him. Now, I have to tell you that I have no
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interest in any of old Cutcheon’s theories, not officially
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and not personally. We’re all policemen here and we all want
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to stay policemen and enjoy our pensions. Wild speculation does
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nobody any good. Officially, for the record, we were acting on
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information on a missing girl and happened to be in the vicinity
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when a child fell into the canal and was rescued by a passing
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policeman. All true. We might even find a medal for the gallant
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lad. As far as the Park killings are concerned, we are looking for
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a shotgun raider, and we will go on looking for one. As far as you
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are concerned, you were never at Middle Loan farm and there was
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never any baby there.”</p>
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<p>He leaned over and looked David straight in the eye.
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“You’ll understand what I’m saying?”</p>
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<p>David nodded. He was tired and his head and ribs ached. He
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caught the drift. Donal Bulloch and Bert Millar had talked it over
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and they had done a deal. That was fair enough with him. It was
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dead and that’s all that mattered. It was down there, below
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the mud and it would rot there. Bulloch his boss had obviously
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spoken to everyone concerned and all of their stories would be
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matching by now. The boss did not want to see what was down there.
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He was a policeman. He upheld the law. He saw no devils except in
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the hearts of men. He was lucky.</p>
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<p>“Suits me,” he said, and worked up a smile.
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“That’s exactly how I remember it.”</p>
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<p>Bulloch nodded and left the room. Millar stayed for a moment.
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“I spoke to old Phil. Whatever the hell’s going on,
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you’ve got balls. You and the girl did a good job. You want
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to work for me anytime, you just ask.” He stood up, put on
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his straight look which drew his brown down so that his eyes were
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almost hidden. “But no more ghosts and ghoulies, okay?
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That’s enough for one career. Remember what your Chief says.
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You know it makes sense.”</p>
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<p>It was the following morning when Helen finally came in, bearing
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a huge basket of fruit. She leaned over and kissed him hard,
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accidentally pressed down on his cracked rib and then jerked back
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when he groaned in dismay. The nurse looked in, smiled, went back
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out again.</p>
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<p>“Is it dead?” she asked as soon as they were
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alone.</p>
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<p>“Last thing I felt it was at least a yard under the mud.
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Must be pretty deep if the divers haven’t found it, though I
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don’t know how hard they were told to look. It stooped
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struggling before I did, and I was down there for a long
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time.”</p>
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<p>“I know that. Everybody stood around and that stupid
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constable just sat on her backside crying. The poor little girl was
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in better shape than her.”</p>
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<p>Helen told him that it had been Jimmy Mulgrew, the young
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policeman who’d been sick up at the farm who had jumped in to
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the canal, diving down fully clothed and had finally, after two
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unsuccessful attempts, found David’s foot and dragged him up
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to the surface.</p>
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<p>“He got you out and got most of the crap out of your
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lungs, so you owe him,” she said. “And I owe you too. I
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can’t remember anything of what happened after we got to the
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canal. It’s all a blank.”</p>
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<p>“You broke my ribs, you silly cow,” he said. She sat
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back, taken by surprise, but then he laughed, though the laughter
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cost him plenty. “But I’ll heal.”</p>
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<p>Kate Park was alive. She was in intensive care in St
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Enoch’s Hospital where a succession of specialists queued up
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for the chance to examine her. She was alive, but in the depths of
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her coma, barely just. Her hold on life was so tenuous it barely
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existed. It was a miracle that she had any hold on life at all.
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According to the x-rays and the cat-scans, the damage to her system
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was phenomenal. It was indeed a wonder that she was still
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breathing, that her heart could still beat. Apart from the multiple
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fractures of her hips and chin, the deterioration in her skeletal
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structure and musculature showed she lad lost almost thirty percent
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of her bone calcium and all of her body fats. Dr Hardingwell and
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senior bacteriologists and virologists speculated on a new super
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organism which could cause such catastrophic damage. Kate
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Park’s body contained more samples of the large,
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proto-genetic compounds that had been discovered in Heather
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McDougall and in Ginny Marsden. It was studied at length by many
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eminent men, but no two of them drew the same conclusion. Some said
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it resembled a kind of virus. Others claimed it was a complex
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protein complex that could trigger responses on the cellular level.
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Most agreed that its components were amino acids, the very basic
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building blocks of life. That was where agreement ended. It
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remained and still remains a mystery.</p>
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<p>Teams of people worked round the clock trying to keep Kate Park
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alive and to rebuild the lost elements of her wizened body.
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Occasionally she would twitch, as if coming awake, but then she
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would go still. Nobody knew what monsters scuttled in her dreams.
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Her husband and her baby girl were buried in the same grave in the
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family plot in the churchyard at Bowling Harbour. Most of the town
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turned out for the funeral on a cold winter’s morning. The
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priest at St Fillans prayed for the repose of their immortal souls.
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For Kate Park’s soul, as yet, there was no repose.</p>
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<p>Little Kirsty Cameron spent a week in hospital and was then
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transferred to a psychiatric ward where she underwent intensive
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therapy for a hysterical fugue state. The girl’s little
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breasts were black with bruises and medical examination showed
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severe damage to the subcutaneous tissue caused by sudden violent
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expansion and stretching. Blood tests showed that she had gone into
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a rare, instant puberty. Her ovaries were fully developed and were
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now producing vast quantities of adult female hormones. She was
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also almost catatonic, staring into space, mouth slack, and
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shivering just a little.</p>
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<p>She responded to no stimuli, or hardly any. It was only whenever
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she heard a baby cry that she would react, going into such fits of
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hysteria that she had to be subdued with thorazine. She would
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remain in the psychiatric ward for some time.</p>
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<p>David Harper got out of hospital in three more days, during
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which time Helen visited him every day, and, awkwardly for them
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both, so did June, fussing at his bedsheets and plying him with
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outspoken concern at his treatment and fruit for his speedy
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recovery. Eventually both of them accepted her attentions, though
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she was brusquely and sullenly hostile towards Helen. He drew the
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line when she turned up on his doorstep, and she stormed off in an
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angry flood of tears. It was to be a further four weeks before he
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was allowed back to active duty. Donal Bulloch welcomed him back to
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the squad, shaking his hand gravely and thanking him for his
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efforts in tracing the dead woman.</p>
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<p>Between them, David and Helen completed the report that an old
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policeman had started before they were born, but they never showed
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it to anyone else.</p>
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<p>They closed the chapter.</p>
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