The Fog - James Herbert [61]
‘Don’t just stand there, you bloody fool!’ Holman shouted at him. ‘Get something to tie her up with!’
Barrow disappeared from the doorway and returned a moment later with a length of curtain rope. The driver of the police car came through the front door as they were tying the girl’s hands.
‘Ambulance is on its way, sir,’ he said to Barrow, not raising an eyebrow at the scene before him.
‘Right. There’s an injured man upstairs. Go and stay with him – I think he’s had it.’ The young detective rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Bloody cow,’ he groaned. ‘I was just coming back into the house when I saw the study door closing. I reckon she was just leaving the house when we drew up and she ducked into the study as we came in. She was probably trying to creep out again as I came back.’
‘What happened?’ asked Holman, leading the girl into the vast lounge where he sat her down on a leather settee. She seemed docile now.
Barrow followed them. ‘I ran into the study and then she hit me. She must have been standing behind the door with that bloody mirror in her hands, waiting for me. She knocked me silly, anyway. All I can remember is crawling around the floor trying to get away from her. Bitch!’
‘Watch your mouth, Barrow,’ said Holman angrily. He’d had enough of the policeman for one day and was prepared to take a swing at him himself if the man continued in his aggressiveness. He knelt before Casey, taking her pale face in his hands. She stared past him, over his shoulder, her eyes wide and unseeing.
‘Casey, darling, can you hear me?’ he asked tenderly. ‘Can you understand me?’
Her eyes looked at him coldly. ‘Bastard,’ she said
It was as though she had hit him. The word was said with such icy vehemence it shocked and hurt him deeply.
‘She doesn’t know you, Holman, can’t you see that?’ said Barrow, not unkindly.
‘No, she doesn’t.’ Holman’s eyes clouded. ‘Will she ever know me again?’
This time, Holman went with Casey to the hospital. Her father was taken by ambulance to the Whittington Hospital on Highgate Hill, while she was returned in the squad car to the Middlesex Hospital. Detective Inspector Barrow left Holman anxiously discussing the girl with the doctor who had treated her previously, and went back to make his report to Chief Superintendent Wreford at New Scotland Yard.
Barrow found the complex building in an uproar and was staggered himself when he caught drift of the news. He hurried to Wreford’s office, who confirmed his worst suspicions and sent him rushing back to the hospital to bring in Holman. Reluctantly, Holman agreed to accompany him again to the Yard on the understanding that Casey was to be kept under the strictest supervision and having advised the doctor to get in touch with the hospital in Salisbury where he had been treated. The doctor had agreed but wanted to know more of Holman’s case. Barrow interrupted, telling him he would have to obtain all his information from Salisbury.
Holman was needed urgently at New Scotland Yard in a matter which involved more than the well-being of one girl.
He would say no more as they drove back towards Westminster, telling Holman he would find out soon enough and that he himself had yet to hear a full report. Finally, seated in Wreford’s office, Holman was told the astonishing and frightening facts.
Wreford wasted no time with preamble. ‘We’ve little time for apologies, Mr Holman,’ he began bluntly. ‘I’ve heard briefly what happened to yourself and Detective Inspector Barrow earlier this morning and I sympathize with what you’ve been through, but events have taken on a greater significance.
‘Reports have been flowing in through the night about certain strange occurrences. They weren’t channelled through to me of course until I made a request for such reports. I must tell you now, that I did this unofficially.’
He held up his hand at Holman’s look of surprise. ‘We won’t go into it now, but you must understand, I couldn’t just take your word for it, I had to play safe.’
‘All right,’ said Holman bitterly. ‘I suppose I should be grateful you even took an interest.