‘He’s stable, but he’s not out of the woods. It looks like he’s been poisoned, although we won’t know what with until we complete our toxicology tests. The poison’s had the effect of paralysing many of his muscles, including the diaphragm and chest muscles, making it extremely difficult for him to breathe. We’ve done what we can to counteract the poison, and we’re supporting his breathing.’
Webley seems to struggle with voicing her next question. ‘And… will he…’
‘We’re hopeful. Parker is lucky that you two came along when you did. Another hour or so of that stuff in his system and it would definitely have killed him.’ The doctor pauses. ‘We found signs of what look like torture, too. One of his left fingers has been removed. Do you know who did this to him?’
Cody thinks about this. What do they have? A man who kills for love. No proper description, no real name, no whereabouts.
‘No,’ he says reluctantly.
‘Well… I hope you catch him. Is there anything you’d like to ask me?’
Cody lets Webley continue her questioning about Parker’s condition and when she might be able to see him, but he’s only dimly aware of her words. Something else has stuck in his mind.
Webley told the doctor she was Parker’s fiancée. Not ex-fiancée.
It’s possible that it was a slip of the tongue – Webley is under considerable stress at the moment. Or perhaps she thought it would be more likely to elicit information from the doctor.
Or maybe she has reached a decision. She has been deep in thought since they arrived at the hospital. Perhaps there is some truth to what she was saying about Bobby having accomplished his mission. The thought that Parker might have been killed could have been the push Webley needed to make her realise how much she wants him back in her life.
Memories flood into Cody’s mind. Of how Webley saved his life on top of that building. Of last Christmas when she rushed through his front door on Rodney Street and kissed him full on the lips. Of how she listened so sympathetically to him that night when he told her all about the problems he’d been experiencing since his attack by Waldo. And he thinks about all the glances and smiles and private jokes and secrets they have exchanged in recent months.
He looks at her now, and he sees the concern in her glistening eyes. There is genuine love for Parker there.
He wishes them well.
41
I Want to Know What Love is
– Foreigner
Franklin B Goodman sits in his car and assesses his accomplishments of the past few days.
All in all, not a bad session, he thinks.
A few people had to die, but they were beyond hope. If you destroy love, then you destroy all that is worth existing for. Franklin has no regrets about ending those miserable lives.
The Parker-Webley situation was far more interesting. Especially with Cody in the mix.
For a few brief moments Franklin thought the detectives had missed their chance, especially when they walked out of the house, leaving poor Parker behind. He wondered if his congratulations on finding the bodies had been premature. How many more clues could he have tossed out at them? No wonder there are so many criminals on the streets if that’s the intellect of police officers these days.
But they got there in the end. Webley’s love for Parker was strong enough to pull her back in.
He wonders if Parker will survive the experience. He hopes so. It would be such a shame to have wasted all that effort. Much better for him to pull through, and then Webley can shower him with all the love she has withheld from him.
There’s a possible downside to it, though, thinks Franklin. Parker is the only person who knows what his captor looks like.
But that’s only a problem if he can still make intelligible conversation.
Funny, really, Franklin thinks. All that time in the house, and not once were the occupants of each bedroom aware that there was someone else tied to a bed in another room.
Not until the end, anyway.
It was a natural extension of Parker’s suggestion. He had talked about how Cody’s ordeal had led to Webley’s sympathy for him. That’s why Franklin severed Parker’s finger and sent it to Webley. But Cody had been through a lot more than the loss of his toes. He had seen his close colleague being cut up in front of his eyes. What better way to test Webley’s compassion than by repeating the experiment with Parker as the subject?
Before he administered the toxin, Franklin set up his laptop screen to display exactly what he was doing to Oliver and Claire. Parker would have been able to see every cut and hear every scream, believing that the same fate was about to befall him. The effect of that on his mind, together with possible oxygen starvation caused by the poison, may have left him a gibbering wreck.
But Webley won’t mind. She can still love him and cherish him, even if that involves spoon-feeding him and bathing him and wiping the drool from his chin.
Franklin nods in satisfaction. Love always finds a way.
He gets out of his car, then stretches his arms. He crosses the road and stops in front of a shop. The place is closed now, its interior dark, but he doesn’t want to buy anything. Standing here at the large window reminds him of the ending of The Graduate. Benjamin Braddock at the church, watching in panic as the woman he loves is getting married to someone else, and then he’s hammering frantically on the window, shouting her name, ‘Elaine! Elaine! Elaine!’
Franklin thinks a lot about that film. When Benjamin enters into an affair, Franklin could quite happily slit him open from bow to stern. And that goes double for coo-coo-ca-choo Mrs Robinson, even if Jesus is a big fan of hers. But then Benjamin finds true love in Elaine, and he’s willing to fight tooth and nail to make her his own. In Franklin’s eyes, that redeems him, makes him worthy again, and in a sudden reversal, Franklin finds himself willing to take his scalpel to anyone who would attempt to prevent Benjamin and Elaine jumping aboard that bus.
But this isn’t a church window. It’s a window to a shop full of tat. And Franklin isn’t here to protect someone’s right to love.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
He walks to the corner of the building and then along its side. There is a scruffy door here, its blue paint peeling away. It has an intercom, but there is no name on it. Franklin thumbs the buzzer.
‘Hello?’ says a voice.
‘Hi. It’s DC Brown from Merseyside Police here. DS Cody sent me over to bring you up to date.’
There’s a pause. And then: ‘Up to date? What do you mean?’
‘There have been a few developments in the case.’
