Maya was paralyzed with fear. “Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpered.
“No, no,” said the man, his tone gentle. He reached down and placed the syringe on the floor, held up his hands to show he was no longer armed. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. Is this …?” He reached for her essay, the screwed-up bits of paper belonging to another life now. “Is this yours?”
She nodded furiously.
He looked at the title page. “‘Health Care, Fair and Square?’” he read. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he was putting on some kind of voice, as though he needed to clear his throat. “You wrote this?”
Again she nodded.
“There is hope, then,” he said. “A hope that lies with the young. Do you mind if I take it?”
She shook her head.
“Thank you.” He pushed the essay into his back pocket. “I look forward to reading it. I have a feeling I will like it. Now, I’m afraid I’m going to have to move you to another room in order that you don’t witness any more unpleasantness. I will let you go afterward, I promise. Trust me.”
Chapter 75
LYING ON HIS front, Roy regained consciousness. The first thing he saw when he raised his head was that the girl was gone. Her seat was empty. Bits of severed tape were curled on the floor. He registered that his shirt had been taken and his trousers were around his ankles. At the same time he tried to raise himself from the floor then realized his hands were somehow pinned to the boards, outstretched on either side of him.
And then he saw the nails. Driven through both hands, deep into the wood. Blood ran from the backs of his hands and dripped to the floor. And almost as though it had been lying in wait ready to get him, the pain pounced and tore through his body, making him scream through bared teeth.
“Oh God,” he whimpered when the pain had died down. “Kumar, Patel, and now me. You’ve come for me.”
“Very astute of you. Yes, I have. I have come for you. You are my next, but by no means my last.”
“But why?”
“Really? You have to ask?”
“Kumar and Patel were in it up to their elbows, noses in the trough. But not me.”
The pain in his hands was white hot and searing, and yet he had the feeling it was merely an aperitif.
“How? Tell me how Kumar and Patel were corrupt?”
“You know!” screeched Roy. “You already know! Isn’t that why you killed them?”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Because Kumar helped fund Surgiquip and awarded them contracts in return for a backhander. He and Patel were in it together. Like I say, noses in the trough.”
“And ResQ?”
“ResQ and Surgiquip are in bed together. But it’s them, not me. I had nothing to do with it.”
The intruder crouched. He placed something on the floor that when Roy twisted his head to look he saw was a field roll. Nimble fingers untied and spread open the fabric. Scalpels glittered beneath. Roy whimpered.
“You had nothing to do with what?” asked the man in black.
“You know.”
“Say it.”
“I’m in too much pain. I can’t think straight.”
“Say it.”
“Will you let me go if—”