Bridge of Doom (5 page)

Following the debacle at the bus station, Annie quickly cycled back to the office, with her brain in a complete turmoil as she tried to work out her next move. The answer was obvious, she had to speak to Jack. Even if he didn't feel ready to get involved directly, he would still know exactly what to do. But first she scrolled through twenty-odd images from the camera on her phone, praying she had captured a decent shot of the motorbike. Quickly she narrowed it down to two useable pictures, which she cropped, enlarged and sharpened using Photoshop editing software, to enhance the images. Still not great, but one slightly blurred picture did at least show a partial registration number and the other had most of the motorbike in profile, as it sped off round the corner. 

Annie picked up the phone and dialled Jack’s number. 'Hi boss, it's me. I need your help ASAP. I've messed up, big time.'
 

She explained how her friend Jamie Boyd had been out of touch for two days, with his phone switched off. Completely out of character for him and then the phone call today from the chancer who had somehow got hold of Jamie’s iPhone. Finally, her cheeks burned as she described the botched handover at the bus station.
 

'Look Annie, don't beat yourself up over this, okay? You made an arse of it, fair enough, but we've all been there. All you can do in these situations is put your hands up … learn from it and move on. At least you might have a couple of pictures we can work with. But I wish you'd phoned me first, I could have taken a taxi to the bus station and tried to give you a hand.'
 

'Yeah, I know. But I didn't want to bother you, while you're still recovering. And it all happened so quickly, I wasn't thinking properly. I just thought I could handle it myself.'

'To be fair, it does sound like these guys are maybe semi-pro. There was obviously a fair bit of planning involved, so they've maybe pulled this stunt before. Okay, what's done is done, Annie, now we have to consider all of the possibilities. It's unlikely your friend has been kidnapped, abducted by aliens or dropped dead of a heart attack. But he could have been arrested and held in custody for some unknown reason, or he might be laid up in hospital somewhere. Who knows, maybe he was knocked down by a car and some no-good scum bag stole his phone while he was lying on the road, waiting for an ambulance. It sounds unbelievable, I know, that someone would do that. But it happens all the time.' 

'Oh my God, you’re right. Why didn't I think of that?'
 

'So what you need to do right now, before anything else, is phone round all of the Accident and Emergency hospitals and try and find out if he's been admitted anywhere in the city. But wait, just before you do that, email me those two pictures you got of the motorbike. I'll have a look at them and then try and get hold of Andy Walsh at CID HQ. If I ask nicely, he might be able to run a check to see if anyone answering Jamie’s description is in custody anywhere in the city.

‘Believe me, Jamie’s the least likely person in Glasgow to get arrested.’

‘I know, but it has to be checked anyway, just in case. Hopefully, Andy can also run a search on the QT for the bike’s number plate. It just depends how smart these two guys are. Obviously the bike could be stolen, or the number plate might be false. Who knows, but at least it's somewhere to start.'
 

Starting to feel slightly better, Annie said, 'okay, I'll get right onto phoning round the hospitals.'

'After I contact Andy, I'm going to take a quick shower and put some clothes on,' said Jack. 'How about if you pick me up at the flat in about an hour and we'll compare notes and see where we are, okay?' 

'Thanks boss,' said Annie, smiling to herself with relief. Jack Davidson was back in the game.

Annie parked outside Jack's tenement building an hour later and phoned him, letting his home phone ring twice, the usual signal to announce her arrival.
 

A couple of minutes later, freshly washed, shaved and smartly dressed her partner emerged from the tenement entrance, looked up and down the street and scratched his head in puzzlement. Annie got out of the car and walked over to where Jack was standing.

She gave him a hug and said, ‘hi boss, it’d great to see you’ve finally emerged from the old bat cave. Come on, the car’s just down here.’

As they walked along a line of parked cars, Annie blipped a key fob which unlocked a smart red three-door Vauxhall Corsa hatchback and said, 'here we are, hop in.'

Annie had never liked driving Jack's clunky old Ford Mondeo and, while he was still in hospital, she’d taken the opportunity to arrange alternative transport.

Jack scratched his head, looked up and down the street in puzzlement, then asked, 'but where's
my
car?'
 

Sighing, Annie explained patiently, 'look we talked about this a couple of weeks ago, remember? You agreed that it was a good idea for me to get something new and more reliable to use for work. So I’ve set up a short term lease deal for a company car. It’s just for a few months, to see how it goes.'
 

As they got into the car and put their seat belts on, Jack scratched his head and said, 'I honestly don't remember any of that.' 

'I also emailed you a pdf copy of the lease agreement to read. I got a really good deal.' 

'I'm not doubting you for a minute, Annie. It's just really worrying that my short-term memory is so crap.'

'Look, the surgeon did say that might be a problem, but he was confident that in time you’ll gradually get back to normal. Try writing everything down in the little notebook I gave you. That way you won't forget anything.' 

'Yeah, but there's only one problem with that, Annie.'
 

'Don't tell me …’ 

'I have been using it, honestly. But I can't remember where I've put it. If I could just find my reading glasses, that's
definitely
where it'll be.' 

Annie smiled and pulled away from the parking bay before saying, 'okay, don't try to force it. Your memory will come back soon, don't worry.' 

After a couple of minutes of silence, Jack took a deep breath and said, 'but it's funny … I can remember every detail about
some
things. I keep getting flashbacks about … you know, the night that bastard Thomas Burke tried to kill us both. I have the same nightmare every night, Annie, and I wake up shaking like a leaf and soaked in sweat. I'm only getting three or four hours sleep and that's why I haven't been able to concentrate on anything to do with work. Look, I know I should have told you all of this earlier, but I've been hoping that it would all just go away.'
 

Alarmed by this news, Annie pulled the car into the side of the road, turned in her seat and said, 'I
knew
something was wrong. No wonder you've got those big black bags under your eyes. Have you talked to your doctor about this?’
 

'I did, but he didn't seem too concerned. His theory is that I'm probably feeling guilty because I very nearly got you killed. He's right about that, of course.'
 

'But that's crazy. What happened with Thomas Burke was just as much my fault as yours. And as usual I completely ignored your advice.’

Jack appeared unconvinced by this line of reasoning and said, 'I've been meaning to ask, Annie, have
you
been sleeping all right?' 

'Yes, the first few nights after it happened were a bit rough, but since then I've been okay. A couple of glasses of wine before bedtime usually helps.'

'That's good. Anyway the doc said that I should just keep taking the anti-anxiety tablets and try not to worry about it. Easier said than done though.' 

'Makes sense, I suppose. But it
was
pretty traumatic. Look boss, I'm really sorry I've dragged you out of the house, when you're obviously not feeling like it. I'll take you back home.'
 

'No it's okay, honestly. It's actually good to be out doing something normal again and talking with you face to face, instead of using the iPad. It's also good to have somebody else to worry about instead of myself. I did eventually get hold of Andy and I passed on your pictures of the motorbike the iPhone thieves were using. While I was talking to him, he checked and Jamie
doesn’t appear to be in custody with the cops, so we can forget that angle.
He's got one of his best young guys, who's a keen biker, trying to ID the bike and trace the number plate. They're also doing a trawl of an intelligence database, listing all of the local widos who are known to fence stolen high-end mobile phones. He said he'll get back to me as soon as they've got something. How did you get on?'
 

'Well I phoned round all of the hospitals, just like you said, and explained the circumstances. I gave them Jamie's name, address and a physical description, but came up empty each time. So I was sitting in the office scratching my head and wondering what to do next, when a staff nurse from the Royal Infirmary phoned back to say she'd double checked their records and they do have a young man in ward 105, who maybe answers the description I gave them. He was attacked in the street and brought in early on Sunday  morning, suffering from head injuries and memory loss. They don't have a name for him yet.'
 

'But at least the timeline fits. So it’s definitely worth checking out.’ 

'Yes, so I emailed her a recent picture of Jamie. She said it might be him, but she couldn't be sure because of the extent of his facial injuries.'
 

'Shit, how bad is he? Did she say?' 

'She obviously didn't want to go into too much detail, with a stranger over the telephone, and suggested that I should come to the hospital to see if I can maybe identify him by his street clothes. Oh God, this is horrible, boss. I'm not sure if I want it to be Jamie or not.' 

‘There’s only one way to find out, Annie. Right, let's go.’

When they arrived at ward 105 in Glasgow Royal Infirmary, the staff nurse Annie had spoken with earlier took them to a storage locker, where the John Doe patient's street clothes were kept. Annie gasped and put a hand over her mouth, before nodding as she touched the blood-stained sleeve of a leather jacket. The same jacket Jamie had been wearing three nights ago.
 

'Yes, I'm sure this is my friend's jacket. He was wearing it the last time I saw him, late on Saturday night. Can I see him?'
 

'He was still sleeping the last time I checked, so you might not be able to speak to him right now. But, if you want to, it’ll be okay to sit with him for a few minutes. I'll go and see if there's a doctor available who can speak to you.'
 

Standing next to Jamie's bed, Annie's eyes welled up as she took in the extent of the lurid multi-coloured bruising and swelling affecting her friend's face. Then, sitting on the edge of his bed, she reached out and gently squeezed his hand, before whispering, 'oh Jamie, I'm so sorry. What happened to you?' 

Jack decided to slip out for a cigarette and, just as he was leaving the ward, he passed an attractive young female doctor on her way in, who smiled and nodded as he held the door open for her.
 

The same medic introduced herself to Annie at the bedside. 'Hello, I'm Dr Marshall. I'm told that you can positively identify our mystery patient. Thank goodness, I’m sure that'll be a big relief both for him and his family. It'll also let me update the police. I'm sure they'll want to interview him as soon as his memory's better.’ 

'His name’s Jamie Boyd,' said Annie, before providing her friend’s personal details.
 

'Are you a relative?'

'No, we're just friends,' said Annie. 'Do you know what happened to him, doctor?'
 

'I was on duty when he was brought in, early on Sunday morning and, believe it or not, he's actually looking a lot better today. He obviously took quite a bad beating, but the facial swelling has almost gone down enough for his broken nose to be re-set. That might be done later today and, if it is, I think he'll probably be allowed to go home in a couple of days.' 

'So is he going to be okay, doctor?'
 

'Yes, he's young and fit, so he should make a full recovery physically. But he has suffered some short term memory loss, which is a concern. He can remember some things, but it seems to be totally random. It would be really good if you had time to talk to him and help find the missing pieces of the jigsaw. Often that's all it takes, you know. Somebody to patiently fill in the blanks in his memory and then all the rest just falls into place.'
 

'Yes of course, I can do that. But what about when he gets home? Will he need any special care?'
 

'No, assuming there are no complications,' said Dr Marshall, with a confident professional air. 'He'll obviously need plenty of rest and, of course, if he takes a couple of paracetemol when necessary, that will ease any residual pain as his nose and damaged ribs continue to heal.'
 

'Thanks for explaining everything to me doctor, I'm starting to calm down a little,' sighed Annie. 

'No problem. Look, if you want to stay with him for a little bit longer, it's absolutely okay.'
 

'Thanks, I will. You know, just in case he should …'
 

Ten minutes later Jamie's eyelids started to flicker and, as he awoke, he rubbed his eyes and slowly turned his head to see who was holding his hand. He smiled in relief as he recognised Annie's face and immediately squeezed her hand tightly, causing Annie to wipe away another tear.
 

'Jamie, it's me,' said Annie, leaning closer. 'I've been worried sick about you.'

'Annie, am I glad to see you,’ croaked Jamie. ‘This has been a total nightmare. I thought I'd gone blind when I woke up and what made it worse is not been able to remember really simple stuff, like my name and where I live. It's been driving me crazy.'
 

'Just relax, okay? And here, take a sip of water. The doctor said it's not unusual to have some memory loss with your type of head injury. The best treatment is just to talk about what happened.'
 

'I can do that,' said Jamie, who began to slowly recount as much as he could remember of Saturday night's events. Annie prompted him and tried to fill in the blanks where necessary. Twenty minutes later they were chatting away together, almost like normal. Annie thought to herself that the doctor was right. Just seeing a familiar friendly face and then talking in a relaxed manner was all that Jamie needed in order to press his memory reset button.
 

As Jack returned to the ward he smiled when he saw that Jamie was awake and chatting away happily. 'Hey, how are you doing, tough guy? You look as if you've been run over by a bus.' 

Jamie winced and sat up slightly. 'Because I was born and brought up in Glasgow, I know that this is where I'm supposed to say, 'if you think
this
is bad, you want to see the
other
guy, right? But the truth is I didn't get a chance to do anything, Jack. Not that I'd be much good at fighting anyway, but I'm still pretty fast over a hundred yards. It all happened so quickly, you know. One minute I'm trying to help this guy who had collapsed on the pavement, round the corner from my house, and then I wake up in here two days later covered in bandages. I've been telling Annie that the pain and not being able to see were bad enough, but the worst thing was losing my memory. It's been driving me mad, trying to remember everything.'
 

'But it's not all bad, sport,' said Jack with a grin. 

'How so?' 

'Well, on the plus side, I see that you've managed to get Annie into bed with you. I don't know, the lengths some guys will go for the sympathy vote.'
 

Unamused, Annie shot her partner one of her trademark withering looks and, despite his lurid facial bruising, Jamie still somehow managed to blush furiously. 

'By the way, my phone hasn't been handed in has it?' said Jamie, swiftly changing the subject.

Annie answered, 'it's not been handed into the police as far as we know, but we're still working on it, Jamie. There's an outside chance we might be able to track down the thief. But don't get your hopes up, because your phone will probably be long gone even if do we find him.'
 

'I know, Annie, getting the phone back's a long shot. I could delete the contents remotely, but I don't want to do that because I've got some important stuff saved on it. It's the vital final piece of a smartphone app that I've been working on for the past three months.' 

'Oh right, was that for the drone controller thingy you told me about before?' said Annie.
 

'That’s right, I've been completely stuck for the last week, trying to work out how to finish off the development phase, and then on Saturday night when I was in the back of the taxi on my way home, the missing bit of the puzzle suddenly came to me. I made a quick note on my phone but because of what happened, I didn't get a chance to back it up to the cloud. So I'm totally screwed without it. Obviously I'm insured, and I can probably get a new iPhone within a few days, no problem. But because of that one saved note, it would be great to get my old one back if I could. I don't care, I'd even pay a reward to the thief.' 

Annie exchanged an embarrassed guilty look with Jack and, wisely, said nothing more. Sorry Jamie, I've already tried that one.
 

She took the MacBook out of her courier bag, fired it up and passed it over to Jamie. 'Look, I know it's probably a complete waste of time but, if you can remember your Apple login details, let's see if
Find My iPhone
actually works.'
 

Jamie stared blankly at the MacBook screen for a few moments, then his fingers instinctively danced across the keyboard. 

'Well done,' said Annie. 'You're in … any luck?'
 

'Yeah, I'm in but there's no current location showing. It's obviously not switched on, Annie. Just what you would expect really.'
 

'Remember, while you're still logged on, you have the option to delete all of the content on it, the next time the phone’s switched on.'

'I know but, as I said before, while there's even a slim chance of getting the phone back, I'll hold fire on that meantime.'
 

'Okay then, we have a plan B. We brought you
this
,' said Annie, handing her friend an old Nokia mobile phone. 

Weighing the device in his hand, Jamie smiled and said, 'wow, this is a real clunker. Where did you get it, a museum?' 

'It was mine, actually,' said Jack, slightly miffed. 'Okay, I admit it's no longer very fashionable and yes, it’s also a bit slow and heavy.' 

'Just like you,' giggled Annie. 

'But,
despite
appearances,' insisted Jack. 'Everything still works under the bonnet.
Just
like me, thank you, Annie.'

'Thanks for that guys,' said Jamie. 'I really appreciate you tracking me down and helping me get my memory back. I owe you both big time.'
 

Annie got up from the bed and packed her MacBook away. 'Don't be silly. And remember to let me know when you're getting out of here and I'll come and give you a lift home. Oh, and I'll pick up your jacket on the way out, to see if a dry cleaner can get the worst of the blood stains out. That's definitely not a good look.'
 

As they left the hospital ward together, Annie asked Jack, 'by the way, where did you disappear to? You seemed to be away from the ward for ages.' 

'This place is so big, it's not easy getting your bearings,' Jack replied. 'But I did eventually find my way outside and I'd just lit up a cigarette, standing near the main entrance minding my own business, when a little jobsworth prick, wearing a high-vis vest and carrying a clipboard, came scuttling towards me. Before I had the chance to say anything, he gave me a right bollocking in front of everybody and then handed me a stop smoking leaflet. Apparently there's no smoking allowed anywhere on hospital grounds, as of this year. Can you believe it? Here in Glasgow, the place where smoking was almost invented. It's fucking unbelievable. What about my human rights?' 

'This
is
a hospital, boss,' said Annie, rolling her eyes in despair.
 

'Yes, but it’s a
Glasgow
hospital, Annie. So I said to mister high-vis, 'keep your hair on, general. Remember it's people like me, who smoke and drink who are keeping most of the people who work here in a fucking job. You should be a bit more grateful and try doing something useful for a change, like handing out clean ashtrays. But I could see I wasn’t getting anywhere with the guy, so I asked him where's the nearest place where I can go to enjoy a fag and have a good cough in peace?'

'You're absolutely terrible. What did the poor man say?'
 

'Airdrie. The cheeky bastard.' 

'Serves you right. Smoking’s a filthy habit.' 

'Yeah, I know, Annie. But the filthy ones are the most fun, right?' 

'That’s
way
too much information, boss.'