The Trojan Boy (14 page)

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Authors: Ken McClure

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Medical, #Suspense, #Thrillers

BOOK: The Trojan Boy
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Avedissian admitted that he had heard rumours about the
new
IRA
leadership and the possibility of a show of strength.
The last time we went through this we finished up with four
bin liners full of assorted limbs,' said Harmon.
Avedissian screwed up his face.
'I wish the bastards could come down here after their bloody
bombs go off. I'd like to see them stand in the middle of that
room out there and talk about their "struggle for freedom"
among the blood and broken lives. They would have to shout
above the screams, mind you. Who knows? They might even
find the sound memorable.'
Avedissian nodded his agreement but reserved judgement on whether Harmon's words had a political basis or whether indeed they had come from the heart. He would decide when
he got to know the man better.
'Well, Gillibrand, or whatever your name is, how does
the prospect of assembling human jigsaw puzzles appeal to
you?' asked Harmon.
'It doesn't,’ replied Avedissian. 'It fills me with disgust.'
A momentary flicker of surprise registered on Harmon's
face. It was followed by a slight pause as if he had been
forced to make some kind of reappraisal. He said quietly, 'it
does me too. I'm glad you didn't see it as "a challenge". I've
had too many buggers here who see it all as "a challenge". No people, just challenges.'
Avedissian smiled as he warmed to the man. 'Belfast on
the c.v. equals another ten grand stateside,' he said.
It was Harmon's turn to smile. 'Exactly,' he said.
A nurse put her head round the door and apologised for
interrupting before saying that Harmon was required in the
Admission Suite.
'Join me,' said Harmon getting up.
Avedissian pulled on a white coat and felt good as he did so for he had come to believe that it was something that he would never do again. But his pleasure was tinged with
apprehension. It had been a long time. Could he still cope?
'In at the deep end, eh?' said Harmon as they walked
along the corridor together.
'Might as well,' replied Avedissian.
After a brief introduction to the nursing staff Avedissian
was left to ask a man in his thirties how he had come to
have fallen off the ladder in the first place.
As the day progressed Avedissian found himself dealing
with a perfectly manageable procession of cuts and breaks and sprains. Harmon warned him that it was the lull before the storm but, even if it was, thought Avedissian, he was
grateful for it was giving him precious time to ease himself
back into medicine.
The first real pressure on him came in the late afternoon
when six people who had been involved in a serious car
accident were admitted. Two were dead on arrival and the other four were very badly injured. A cursory examination
by Harmon to establish where priority lay left Avedissian to
deal with a young man in his twenties suffering from severe
chest and lower limb injuries. The man arrested as
Avedissian worked on him and it was a very long ninety seconds before Avedissian's attempts to revive him were
rewarded and the patient's heart was restarted.
Although his own pulse was racing and self-doubt had
threatened him from all angles Avedissian had outwardly
remained cool and professional throughout and Harmon
had noticed. He looked across and said, 'Welcome to A & E.'
Avedissian acknowledged the comment with a nod but
there was no time for conversation. He still had a lot to do to
stabilise the boy's condition and there was another patient
waiting.

There's a drug overdose on the way,' announced the unit
sister. 'Female, 42, Librium.'

Thank you, Sister,' said Harmon without looking up.
'Prepare to wash her out will you.'
There were to be two more drug overdoses, three more
car accidents, a scalding and the aftermath of a 'domestic dispute', as the police put it, before Avedissian felt able to
sign off and leave the night to the duty housemen.
He climbed the stairs to his small room in the medical residency and flung himself down on the bed. He was tired,
in fact he was exhausted, not just with the work, although
that had been considerable, but mainly because of the
mental stress that he had been under. The fear that he
might have lost all his old ability as a doctor had proved to
be unfounded but it had been no easy task laying it to rest.
Now he began to feel good. The truth was that it had been
a very long time since he had felt so good and the austerity
of his surroundings could do nothing to diminish the
feeling, it would not have mattered had it been a deep, dark
dungeon instead of a dingy, Victorian turret room in peeling
NHS green. Bryant had been right. A & E was exactly what he
needed. Belfast was doing for his self-esteem what Llangern
had done for his body.
When his mind had calmed Avedissian's thoughts turned
to food and he went to eat in the hospital staff restaurant before returning upstairs to begin reading. Harmon had thoughtfully furnished him with copious reading matter on
the various aspects of military medicine and he began with a
tome on the treatment of gunshot wounds.
Tension grew in the city as the days passed with still no move
from the
IRA
to justify the rumours that had been circulating in the pubs about what they would do to avenge the death of Kevin O'Donnell. The more optimistic began to suggest that
O'Donnell's death had been a bigger blow to the
IRA
than had
previously been thought while the more realistic just waited.
The weather did little to help for it was warm and uncom
monly humid as if a still, wet cloud were pressing down on
the city. It shortened tempers and made skin glisten at the
slightest effort.
Avedissian ran his forefinger round the inside of his collar as
he came on duty in the afternoon. There was an unpleasant,
sour smell of sweat about the department which had persisted
for days despite competition from anaesthetics and disinfectant.
'What have we got?' he asked the duty sister.
'Not much. One sprained ankle and a broken thumb.'
The day continued routinely with troughs and peaks of
activity until nine in the evening when Avedissian was
thinking about calling it a day. As he took off his coat an
ambulance drew up outside and the attendants carried in a
woman who had obviously been badly beaten. As it was Harmon's day off and the houseman was busy with another
patient Avedissian decided to stay and deal with the woman
himself.
Her face was swollen and barely recognisable under a
halo of beautiful red hair that was matted with blood along
her forehead. Avedissian examined her limbs gently for
broken bones but found no evidence of any damage other
than severe bruising. He sent her to the X-Ray Department
with a nurse in attendance and waited for the results.
Avedissian's optimism that the woman's injuries
appeared to be a great deal more dramatic than they
actually were was confirmed by an X-Ray report which
confirmed that she had no broken bones and was free from
damage to her skull. She had, however, taken a bad beating
and was only now beginning to recover consciousness. She
tried to speak and a nurse shushed her and told her to rest.
This only made the woman anxious and even more det
ermined to speak. The nurse tried again to soothe her but
to no avail.
'All right,’ said Avedissian to the nurse. 'Let her speak.'
While the woman tried to form words Avedissian asked
the nurse quietly, 'Do we know who she is?'
'She had no handbag and no identification,' replied the
nurse.
'Do we know why she was beaten up?'
'No, it was an anonymous treble-nine call.'
'What else?' said Avedissian under his breath. An unwill
ingness to 'get involved' was more in evidence in Belfast
than anywhere else in the United Kingdom.
'I must speak
...
to
...
British Intelligence . . .' said the
woman with obvious and painful difficulty.
'I'll ask the constable to come in, shall I?' said the nurse.
Avedissian was about to agree when the woman put her
hand on his arm. 'No police . . . Intelligence . . .
Bryant.’
Avedissian went cold at the mention of Bryant's name.
Wait a minute,' he asked the nurse who was heading for
the door. She paused with her hand on the handle.
Avedissian bent close to the woman and whispered
'What do you know of Bryant?'
I’m . . . Kathleen O'Neill . . . Martin O'Neill's sister . . .
have important information . . . must tell Bryant.'
The name O'Neill meant nothing to Avedissian. He left
the woman's side for a moment and walked over to the
nurse. 'She says she's Kathleen O'Neill. Mean anything to
you?'
The girl shook her head.
'She said something about being Martin O'Neill's sister.'
'Now that means something,’ said the nurse. She told
Avedissian that Martin O'Neill was a leading
IRA
man.
Avedissian returned to the woman and said, 'Can't you tell us what it is? You need rest and sleep.'
'No . . . must speak to Bryant . . . tell him . . . it's about
the . . . missing person.'
Avedissian shrugged and turned to the nurse. 'Better call
the security number.'
The nurse dialled a number, handed him the phone and said, 'It's ringing.'

This is Dr Gillibrand, A & E at the General. I've got a
woman here who says that she's Martin O'Neill's sister. She wants to speak to someone called Bryant about a missing
person.'
In less than fifteen minutes a black saloon drew up out
side A & E and Bryant got out accompanied by three other
men. Bryant stared straight ahead but the other two looked
about them constantly.
'Well, Dr Gillibrand, this is a coincidence. And how are
things in the Emerald Isle?' murmured Bryant after making
sure that no one else was within hearing range.
Once again Avedissian noted the sneer in Bryant's voice
whenever he used the term 'Emerald Isle'. 'I'm coping,' he
said.
'Good. Where's the O'Neill woman?'
'She's in here,' said Avedissian, pointing to a closed door.
-But she's very weak. She's been badly beaten.'
Bryant grinned as if Avedissian had said something that
had amused him. 'Really?' he said quietly. 'Now isn't that a
shame.'
Avedissian said, 'I think it would be best if you could
leave off questioning her till the morning.'
The grin left Bryant's face in an instant and he hissed at
Avedissian, 'When I want your "professional" advice,
Doctor, I'll ask for it. Take me to her.'
Avedissian held his tongue and led the way. He was about
to enter the room behind Bryant when Bryant stopped and
turned. He said to Avedissian, 'Wait outside please.'
'She is my patient,' insisted Avedissian as loudly as he
dared.

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