The Message by Hylton Smith

Author:Hylton Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: mystery, psychological thriller, police abduction and murder mystery, psychological suspense, mystery and crime, mystery suspense, mystery detective, thriller, thriller suspense

Chapter 19

Prentice and Jones were rebuffed when the former asked Olivia to meet them at her home. “Tom’s already there, he can help you find the paperwork from the hearing Mitchell managed to contrive on the advice of his lawyer. I’m with Dad, and he’s a lot better, so I’ll be here until he needs rest again.”

She still referred to him as Dad. Prentice let it go. The two detectives headed for Hamsterley Mill. Tom was in one of his sheepish moods. “Oh hello, out in force this time, come on in. What have I done wrong now?”

“We just need to take a look at the paperwork involved with this Mitchell guy. According to Olivia, the hospital records only deal with the procedure itself. She thought there might be something which can help us trace the father of the boy who died, she seemed to think his name was Edward. Funny that it wasn’t on the actual record as next of kin, even though the address was.”

“Yes, his name is Edward, and you’re right, his name should be on the file. I know I buggered up my own career in the medical profession, but I still have to listen to Olivia’s diatribe when I ask, ‘how was your day dear?’ She’s quoted several instances of staff being disciplined for incomplete records. It might have been forgotten when it was raised, but someone would have spotted it before it was archived. Bad smell Inspector, sorry, Inspectors.”

“Ok, then let’s see what’s in Olivia’s papers.”

*

Peter had begun to make sense of events, he now knew for sure that he hadn’t been hallucinating in his sleep, his daughter was unhurt. His concern had shifted to Kieron, as nobody had mentioned him yet. Before he took his pen and paper, he uttered more disjointed syllables. “Ohta, ohta.”

He showed Olivia the previous sketch of the car wing mirror. “Ohta, ohta.”

“Just write it or draw it Dad, it helps if we can see and hear at the same time.”

His hand wasn’t steady enough yet to write words, they were just as jumbled as his speech. He drew a matchstick man, pointing at the figure. “hite hoat.”

“White coat, oh of course, you mean doctor. Do you want the surgeon?”

He tried to shake his head in total frustration and pointed to the wing mirror again. At last the penny dropped, he was saying that he’d seen a doctor in the car wing mirror before he was hit. What wasn’t clear was whether he would have been a witness or the attacker. However, it immediately occurred to her that the hospital doctors had their own parking area, and this could have been anyone in a white coat, a nurse, restaurant staff, lab people, and at least a dozen others.

“Was this a man?” A nod wasn’t possible. Olivia suggested he should just draw a tick or a cross. “Do you think this was the man who attacked you?” A much more vigorous and larger tick. “Are you sure Dad?” A gesture of disbelief, followed by Peter pointing at the wound in the back of his head.

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