Vicious Circle (8 page)

‘So you can imagine what it would have meant to die without ever laying eyes on him?’

‘There are rules,’ she said weakly. ‘Babies born by Caesarean section must remain in the unit for—’

‘I don’t give a good stuff for the rules. My wife may die. Go down to Maternity and bring her daughter to her. Do it now!’

Sister Palmer hesitated a moment longer then she whispered, ‘At this time of night there will be very few people around.’ She straightened her back and turned to the door. She closed it quietly behind her as she went out into the passage.

Hector brought his lips close to Hazel’s ear and whispered to her, ‘You were right, Hazel my darling! Our baby is a girl. Her name is Catherine Cayla, just the way you planned it.’ He stared into her eyes, searching for signs of life. It was like looking into two fathomless blue pools. ‘They are going to bring Catherine to you. You will see how beautiful she is. Her hair is going to be golden just like her big sister’s. She weighs six pounds.’ He stroked her cheek softly as he whispered encouragement and endearments.

The heart monitor beeped to a steady beat. The sawtooth pattern across the screen was regular and even.

It seemed to Hector like an age of waiting, and then the door behind him opened and Sister Palmer entered. She was smiling. Close behind her came Bonnie, the maternity nurse. Hector was surprised to see her still on duty. In her arms she carried the blue-blanketed bundle. Hector leapt to his feet and went to her. Without a word, the nurse offered the bundle to him.

Hector reached out uncertainly, and then took a step back and muttered, ‘Which end must I take? I don’t want to drop her.’

‘Make an arm for her,’ Bonnie ordered, and when he obeyed she laid Catherine in the resulting cradle. Hector looked as apprehensive as if he was holding a ticking bomb.

‘I have never done this before.’

‘She won’t break,’ Bonnie reassured him. ‘Babies are pretty tough little customers. Hold her as though you love her.’

Slowly Hector began to relax. He smiled. ‘She smells good.’ His smile turned into a wide grin. ‘She’s so warm and soft.’

‘Yep!’ Bonnie said. ‘That’s the way babies are.’

Hector turned back to the bed, still holding the infant. He leaned over Hazel until he could bring Catherine’s face down level with hers.

‘Just look at her! Isn’t she the most magical little thing?’ he murmured.

Nothing moved in Hazel’s face, her expression was impassive and her eyes expressionless. He brought their two faces closer together.

‘I think your daughter needs a kiss, Mrs Cross,’ he said, and touched Catherine’s lips to those of Hazel. Immediately the infant’s lips started making suckling motions, instinctively seeking the teat. She began to move her head from side to side, brushing against her mother’s face. Still Hazel’s face was stony and pale as chalk.

When Catherine was unable to find what she was looking for she squawked. Almost at once her frustration turned to anger and she let out a series of grunts and muted bellows; the most evocative sounds to any mother’s ears. But Hazel’s features remained blank.

Crestfallen, Hector lifted Catherine back into the cradle of his arms. He had hoped for something, for anything. Just a sign that she had known this was her own child nuzzling her cheek.

Then a small miracle was enacted before him. A tear welled up from the blue depths of Hazel’s left eye. It was the size of a seed pearl, and it shone with the same opalescence.

‘She is weeping,’ Hector said in a small, awed voice. ‘She sees. She knows. She understands.’

Bonnie took the child from him. ‘We must go now. I dare not stay any longer. It’s more than my job is worth.’ She went quickly to the door and from there looked back at him with a smile. ‘It was a hell of a risk, but I’m glad I took it.’

‘So am I.’ Hector’s voice was gruff. ‘I owe you one,’ he said to Bonnie. ‘I owe you a very big one.’ Then she and Catherine were gone.

Hector looked at Sister Palmer. ‘You too, a very big one!’ he told her.

Hector went back to his station beside the bed. He took Hazel’s fingers and tried to rub some warmth into them. He whispered to her a little longer, and then weariness and emotional burnout overtook him again and sleep dropped over him like a dark fog.

*

Something woke him. He was not certain what it was. He looked around him groggily. Then two things registered with him in quick succession: the sound of the beeper was wildly erratic and the trace on the screen of the heart monitor was dancing and skipping chaotically. In panic he came to his feet and stood over Hazel. Her chest was heaving and a rasping sound came from her open mouth.

‘Hazel,’ he said with rising anger. ‘Fight, my darling. Fight the bastard.’ He knew the black angel had come for her. ‘Don’t let him take you!’

Sister Palmer hurried in, alerted by the tone of his voice. She went to the far side of the bed, took one long look and said, ‘I will call the duty doctor.’ She rushed from the room. Hector did not watch her go. He was shaking Hazel’s hand.

‘Listen to me!’ he pleaded with her. ‘Stay with us. We need you. Catherine and I need you. Don’t go! Please don’t go with him.’

The wild cacophony of the heart monitor slowed. The peaks of the pattern on the screen drew further apart.

‘Fight with that great heart of yours, Hazel. Don’t give in,’ he told her, and the tears streamed down his face. He had seen this happen so often on the battlefield but he had never wept before. ‘Think of us. You never give in. Fight him off with your warrior’s heart.’

Hazel expelled the air from her lungs in a long and whispering sigh. Then she breathed no more. The monitor beeped one last time and then went silent. The trace levelled out into a flat green line at the bottom of the screen.

Hector stood over her and his tears dropped onto her face as he seized her shoulders and shook her.

‘Come back!’ he cried. ‘I won’t let you go!’

The door opened behind him and the young duty doctor strode up behind him and took his arm, leading him away from the bed.

‘Please, Mr Cross. Stand back and let me do my job.’ The doctor worked quickly. He placed his stethoscope on her chest, listened a few seconds and frowned. Then he felt for a pulse at her wrist and said softly, ‘I am sorry, Mr Cross.’

Gently, he passed his hand over Hazel’s face, closing her staring blue eyes. Then he reached down for the bed sheet and drew it up to cover her face.

‘No!’ Hector caught his wrist. ‘Don’t cover her. I want to remember her face for ever. Please leave us alone for a while.’ He looked at Sister Palmer who was hovering at the foot of the bed. ‘You too, Sister. There is nothing more you can do here.’ The two of them left quietly.

Hector knelt beside the bed. He had not prayed in a long while but he prayed now. Then he stood up and wiped his eyes.

‘This is not goodbye, Hazel. Wherever you have gone, wait for me. One day we will be together again. Wait for me, my darling.’ He kissed her on the mouth. Her lips were already cooling. He drew the sheet over her face and went to the door.

*

On the way to the exit he stopped at the maternity wards and knocked on the door of the nurses’ room. A sister appeared. ‘May I help you, Mr Cross?’ Hector was mildly surprised that she knew his name. He had no idea of the flutter he had created in the staff room. The word had spread.

‘I am looking for a nurse called Bonnie.’

‘Bonnie Hepworth? She went off duty an hour ago.’

‘What time will she come on again?’

‘Six o’clock this evening.’

‘Thank you. May I see my daughter now? She was born last night.’

‘Yes, I know.’ She glanced at her clipboard and found the name. ‘Catherine. Okay. Let’s go to the observation room.’

When they arrived, Hector pressed close against the glass. ‘She looks more human than a few hours ago.’ The nurse looked disapproving. He had learned that they didn’t like derogatory remarks about their babies, and hurried on. ‘When will she be discharged?’

‘Well…’ The sister looked doubtful. ‘She is a Caesarean and her mother…’

‘When can I come and fetch her?’ Hector insisted.

‘Probably three or four days if all goes well, but of course it’s up to Doctor Naidoo.’

‘I’ll be back this evening to visit her,’ he promised.

He went out to where the Range Rover stood in the car park. He walked around it to check the damage. It was filthy with dried mud and the front offside bumper was buckled. He climbed in and started the engine, and then drove back towards Brandon Hall.

He was on the direct road from Winchester, which took him past the scene of the ambush. Police Crime Scene tape cordoned off the area, but Hazel’s Ferrari had been towed away. Three police officers were still taking measurements and working the site for further evidence.

Hector slowed for the road block, but one of the officers waved him through.

Reynolds, the butler, opened the door for him. ‘It’s very good to see you, sir. We were very worried when you and Mrs Cross did not return yesterday evening. Mrs Cross is not with you?’ He looked over Hector’s shoulder. Hector ignored the question.

‘Please have Mary bring a pot of coffee up to my study. Then this afternoon at two o’clock I want the entire staff assembled in the blue drawing room.’

Hector went upstairs. He set out his shaving kit, but then on an impulse decided to let his beard grow as a tribute of mourning for Hazel. Instead he showered and went through to his dressing room in a bathrobe. Mary brought the coffee tray.

‘Have you and Mrs Cross had breakfast, sir?’

‘Don’t worry about breakfast. Did Mr Reynolds tell you about the staff meeting?’

‘Yes, he did, sir.’

Hector dressed in casual country cords and brogues and went to his study at the end of the passage. He sat at his desk and reached for the phone. Paddy answered on the fourth ring.

‘Paddy, it’s a crying bastard to have to tell you this. Hazel didn’t make it. She died at five o’clock this morning.’

There was an echoing silence as Paddy weighed his reply, then he said hoarsely, ‘My condolences, Heck. We are going to get the sons of bitches that did this. You have my oath on that. What about the funeral? Nastiya and I would want to be there.’

Nastiya was Paddy’s KGB-trained wife, a magnificent Russian blonde who had doubled for Hazel in the Trojan Horse operation that had wiped the pirate stronghold in Somalia from the face of the earth.

‘Private cremation. No fuss. That’s what she always wanted. However, if you can get here, Hazel would have wanted you two, of all people, to be there. Where are you?’

‘Abu Zara.’

‘The cremation won’t take place for a while. The police will want a forensic autopsy. But come anyway as soon as you can. We need to talk. Make some plans.’

‘What about your baby, Heck? Did the poor little mite make it?’

‘She was delivered by Caesarean before Hazel…’ Hector checked. He didn’t want to say the word. It was too final. He hurried on. ‘Her name is Catherine. She’s gorgeous.’

‘Takes after Hazel, then. Not you.’ Hector’s laugh was more like a croak, and Paddy went on. ‘We’ll have to hide her, Heck. If the Beast finds out about her they’ll come back for the both of you.’

‘That’s something that has been worrying me, Paddy. They were not after me. They were targeting Hazel only.’

‘Tell me,’ Paddy encouraged him.

‘They had a clear shot at me, but they didn’t take it. They deliberately fenced me off from the action. They dropped a load of bricks in the road to block my way to her.’ Hector and Paddy were both silent, pondering the conundrum.

‘I don’t know the answer to that. It doesn’t make sense,’ Paddy admitted at last. ‘Maybe they had been warned not to tangle with you. I just don’t know. It will become clearer as we work through the rest of it. But we dare not take any chances with your Catherine. We have to hide her away where they can’t find her.’

‘Okay, Paddy, before you leave Abu Zara I want you to set up a safe house there for Catherine. Try to get the top floor of one of the new skyscrapers the Emir is building on the waterfront; something that we can defend easily.’

‘I’ll talk to Prince Mohammed himself. No problem. But it might take some time. Perhaps even a couple of weeks.’ The prince was the brother-in-law of the Emir and he controlled not only the treasury, the army and the police force but the state building programme as well. He was indebted to Bannock Oil, the company which had drilled the hole that made Abu Zara one of the most prosperous of the smaller states on the globe.

‘Good man, Paddy! Let me know what you can find for us. I’ll meet you.’ He rang off and pressed the intercom button. In the office at the end of the long passage Agatha, Hazel’s secretary, answered at once.

‘Agatha, please come to my office.’

‘Is Mrs Cross with you, sir? I have some letters for her to sign.’

‘Come to my office, and I will explain everything.’

When Agatha knocked, Hector pressed the electrical release for the door under the panel beside his knee and the door clicked open. Agatha entered. She was dressed in a sober grey business suit. Her grey hair was neatly coiffured. She had worked for Hazel since her marriage to Henry Bannock.

‘Take a chair, please,’ said Hector.

She sat in the chair facing him and smoothed her skirt over her knees.

‘I have tragic news, Agatha.’

She half rose from the chair, her face distorting with dread. ‘It’s Mrs Cross, isn’t it? Something terrible…’

‘Sit down, Agatha. I rely on you to be calm and strong, as you always are.’ He drew a deep breath and said the fateful words. ‘My wife is dead.’

She began to weep silently and softly. ‘How did she die? She was so young and vital. It doesn’t seem possible.’

‘She was murdered,’ he said, and she stood up abruptly.

‘May I use your toilet please, Mr Cross? I think I am going to be sick.’

‘Take as long as you need.’ He listened to the soft sounds of her distress. Then at last the toilet flushed and she came out. Her eyes were red, but every hair on her head was in place.

She sat down on the chair and looked at him. ‘You have been crying also.’ He inclined his head in assent, and she went on. ‘What about your baby?’