High Moor 2: Moonstruck Read Online Free PDF Page A

sharp pain flared for a brief moment that seemed like forever. He slumped to the floor, twitching and unable to move or breathe.
    As darkness closed in on him, the woman’s voice echoed in his ears. “Who am ah? None of yer fucking business, Pal. Now, where do ye keep the bloody ethanol?”
    ***
    15th November 2008. University Hospital of Durham. 17.28
    Phil arrived just as Doctor Adams was leaving Stephen Wilkinson’s room. Phil walked up to him and shook his hand. “Nice to see you again, Bob. How’s the patient?”
    Doctor Adams closed the door. “He’ll live.”
    “Well, that’s the best news I’ve had all day. Is he in any state to answer questions?”
    The doctor shook his head. “Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee.”
    Leaving the room they headed for the cafeteria. “Well, Mr Wilkinson isn’t going to be answering any questions for a while, Phil. He’s suffered severe spinal trauma and he’s in a coma. There’s no way of telling when, or even if, he’ll ever come out of it.”
    Phil exhaled in frustration. “So much for the good news. I was hoping that he’d be able to tell me what happened out there. The suspect we have in custody isn’t making any sense and he’s the only other person that survived the night.”
    “That’s not the interesting part. I saw Mr Wilkinson three weeks ago. I gave him six months to live, and I was being optimistic. Lung cancer. Inoperable and most assuredly terminal. Yet today, there’s no sign of it.”
    “Really? How is that possible?”
    Doctor Adams shrugged his shoulders. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve heard stories about people suffering major trauma and their bodies healing ability going into overdrive, but never with cancer, and never this quickly. Mr Wilkinson will never walk again, and he may end up spending the rest of his life being fed through a tube, but other than that, he’s in perfect health.”
    They entered the cafeteria, and joined the queue for the coffee machine, when Phil felt someone touch his shoulder. He turned and saw the assistant pathologist, Susan Turnbull.
    “Oh, sorry to disturb you, Inspector Fletcher. Henry is waiting for you downstairs in the pathology lab, and your colleagues said that they’d catch up with you back at the station.”
    Phil’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, Doctor Turnbull, but which colleagues were those?”
    “Inspector Pawlac and Braun, I think their names were. They’d come in with Miss William’s cousin to identify the body. Of course, I couldn’t wait to tell them the good news.”
    “I’m sorry, Doctor Turnbull, but I’m not following you at all. What good news?”
    “Well, the news about Miss Williams being alive after all.”
    Phil looked at her, open mouthed. He composed himself, and was about to speak when the fire alarm went off.
    Susan huffed. “Another bloody fire drill? We only had one last week.”
    People detached themselves from the coffee queue, grumbling, and made their way to the fire exit. Phil grabbed Susan’s arm as she turned to leave.
    “Miss Williams is alive? Where is she now?”
    “She’s up on the second floor, in the trauma unit. Ward 12 , room 2.06. You can’t go there now though; we’ve got to go out to the car park.”
    Phil wasn’t listening. He ran from the cafeteria and threw open the door to the stairs. A tide of people flowed past him, hurrying to get downstairs. Thin wisps of smoke drifted up from the basement, and in the distance he could hear the sound of approaching sirens. He fought his way through the crowds until he reached the second floor. He ran to room 2.06 and threw open the door. The monitor by the bedside screamed an alert and the ventilator was still running; however there was no sign of Marie Williams.
    Phil stepped into the corridor and ran back to the stairs. Thick, chemical smoke billowed up from the stairwell beneath him. He put his coat sleeve over his mouth in an attempt to filter out the fumes, and made his way down