Implant (DI Gardener 3)

“Almost certainly.”

“Which can only lead us to believe that not all doctors save lives. Now do something else for me, split that device open, on the bench.”

Jackson did so without question.

“Good God! What the hell is that?”

“A SIM card, Dr Jackson, which is exactly how it’s working. Someone has modified the defibrillator to accept a signal from a mobile phone, at which point, your little energy module would crank out a massive electrical discharge to the nerves on Sonia Knight’s teeth.”

Gardener slipped on a pair of gloves, collected the device, and turned to leave. Before reaching the door, he stopped and turned to address Jackson once more.

“Like I said, not all doctors save lives.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Gardener was sitting in the incident room waiting for his squad to arrive, with a multitude of thoughts all fighting to emerge victorious. The first concerned PC Close. From the information he’d learned yesterday, he doubted very much that Christine was going to come out of the clinic, but they would all have to deal with that when it happened. He felt he was right to put Close on station duties, and thankfully, he had the perfect job for the troubled officer.

He had thought about the white van, and tried to make a list of the manufacturers he knew. The fact that it was a large van made things easier; there were not that many model variants. One question he had forgotten to ask was whether or not there were any logos on the side. Gardener suspected one of his team would have said so if that had been the case.

When it came to suspects, he didn’t have many in the frame. Gardener was reminded, however, of something Alan Radford, his superior officer of many years ago, had taught him: never rule out anyone. What you thought about a person was immaterial; it was cold, hard facts that mattered, and damn good powers of deduction that could piece those facts together.

With regard to Pollard, Gardener had to be careful that he wasn’t putting the drug dealer in the frame simply because there was no one else. Although he had some medical knowledge, Gardener still wasn’t completely satisfied Pollard was their man. He did suspect, however, that the man was more than capable of making Hobson and Knight disappear. He hoped the search of Pollard’s house being conducted at that moment would turn something up. Without at least something to back up his suspicions, they really couldn’t keep Pollard much longer.

The electronics angle had brought fresh light to the case, but also added further problems. The fact that someone else might be involved only increased their caseload.

The door to the incident room opened, and one by one his officers rolled in. Maurice Cragg was amongst them and, at the very back, one of the SOCOs with the envelopes that had been pinned to the chair, firmly sealed in an evidence bag.

Gardener placed them on one of the tables and addressed his squad. Without wasting any time, he took them through what he and Reilly had witnessed at the station, and concluded by showing them the ICD.

He opened the two envelopes found at the scene and held them aloft for the team to make notes. The first card he pointed to was another tarot: The Papess, or High Priestess. In many ways, it was very similar to any one of the queens in a normal pack of playing cards. She was sitting on a throne between two columns, one white, one black. On one side of the card was the letter B, on the other, the letter J.

“Sean, can you give Laura a call and see what she can tell us about this one?” Reilly nodded and retreated to the far end of the room to speak to his wife.

The second card he held up was almost certainly part of the set that included Inspector Catcher. It was identical in size, and on the reverse was the same logo, the word ‘Murder’ in a very fancy font. The hourglass and the patent number were also there, and when compared with the Catcher card, their similarities were evident.

The front of the card bore the name ‘Nurse Willing’, and had a woman in hospital uniform holding a stethoscope in one hand, and a needle in the other. There were no slogans on the card. The nurse’s outfit was prim and proper, portraying a style similar to that worn in the late Sixties or early Seventies.

Reilly returned to the front of the room. Gardener nodded, and he told them what he’d found out.

“It has dual meanings. All of them have. Upright means we’re looking at wisdom and secret knowledge, something that is yet to be revealed.”

“And the reverse?”

“Equally as bad. Lack of personal harmony, problems which could be the result of one not looking into things properly. Ignorance of true facts and

feelings.”

“Once again,” said Gardener, “the killer is playing games with us. He knows his victims better than we do. He’s letting us know how much he knows about them, and that he’s got a very good reason – as far as he’s concerned – for killing them.”

“In other words, it’s the tail wagging the dog,” said Thornton.

“Probably. Unfortunately, we still don’t know who the hell is in the frame. That means we have to step up our game. So, on top of everything else we have to do today, I have some more actions.”

Gardener glanced at Maurice Cragg. “All of us must keep an open mind from now on. What I’d like you to do is get me a background on Sonia Knight and Lance Hobson. I want everything you can find out about them.”

“Will do, sir.”

Gardener readdressed his own men. “I also want someone looking into the last movements of those two. Hobson we know for a fact is either still missing, or still at large depending on how you look at it. Someone somewhere knows these two very well. We need to find them. I appreciate that means we’re going to be talking to the scum of the big city, and it’s very unlikely they’ll want anything to do with us, but it has to be done.”