The Double Tap (Stephen Leather Thrillers) Read Online Free PDF Page A

He hated hospitals. When his turn came to die, he hoped it would be out in the street or between the sheets with a hot blonde, not in some antiseptic white-painted room with tubes running into his veins and a stinking bedpan on the floor. He shuddered involuntarily. This was no time to be thinking about death.
            The elevator doors at the end of the corridor hissed open and a young doctor in a white coat stepped out. He was tall with a shock of black hair that kept falling over his eyes as he walked towards the uniformed cop. He was carrying a small stainless steel tray covered with a white cloth. The cop nodded a greeting, and the doctor made to go past. The cop held up a hand to stop him. ‘Whoa there, partner,’ he said.
            The doctor frowned. He was wearing wire-framed spectacles and he squinted as if he wasn’t used to them. ‘I have to take a blood sample,’ he said impatiently. The cop studied the plastic-covered identification badge pinned to the top pocket of the doctor’s white coat. The small colour photograph matched the man’s face. John Theobald, MD. Cardiovascular Department. ‘I haven’t seen you before,’ said the cop.
            ‘That’s not really my problem, is it?’ said the doctor. ‘Now are you going to let me get to my patient, or not?’
            ‘He’s not your patient, though, is he?’ asked the cop. He tapped the clipboard he was carrying. ‘Your name isn’t on the list of approved medical personnel.’ He gingerly lifted the cloth and peered under it. On the tray lay a disposable syringe, a couple of cotton wool balls and a small bottle of antiseptic.
            ‘I’ve been on vacation,’ the doctor explained. ‘This is my first day back.’
            ‘Today’s Tuesday,’ said the cop, dropping the cloth back over the tray.
            ‘What do you mean?’ The doctor was irritated.
            ‘I mean, wouldn’t Monday normally be your first day back?’
            ‘I missed my flight. Look, what is this? What’s going on here?’ His voice rose angrily.
            The cop held up a hand as if he were stopping traffic. ‘Doc, I’m just doing my job. That man in there is a very important witness in a federal case . . .’
            ‘That man is a patient, a patient who has just undergone major heart surgery, and there are tests that I have to do on him to check that the operation went smoothly,’ interrupted the doctor. ‘Now, get the hell out of my way. If you’re that worried, why don’t you come in with me?’
            The cop held the doctor’s look for a few seconds, then he nodded slowly. He opened the door and followed the doctor inside. A heart monitor beeped quietly. The only other sound in the room was the patient’s ragged breathing. The cop kept his hand on his holster as the doctor put the tray down on the bedside table. The doctor snapped on a pair of rubber gloves, pulled back the cloth and wiped antiseptic along the patient’s left arm, then quickly withdrew a sample of blood and pressed a small plaster over the puncture.
            ‘Satisfied?’ said the doctor, putting the blood-filled syringe on the tray and carrying it to the door. The cop moved out of the doctor’s way and held the door open for him.
            ‘Doc, I’m just doing my job.’
            ‘Yeah,’ said the doctor. ‘You and the Gestapo.’ He looked as if he were going to say something else, but then just shook his head and walked out.
            The cop bared his teeth at the back of the departing doctor and slowly closed the door. He walked over to the bed and looked down at the patient. The man’s eyes flickered open as if he was aware that he was being watched. The electronic beep quickened. ‘Am I going to be all right?’ the patient rasped.
            ‘Peachy keen,’ said the cop, removing his gun from his glistening black holster. From the inside pocket of his leather jacket he took out