The Silence of Severance by Wes Markin

Author:Wes Markin [Markin, Wes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-02T16:00:00+00:00

The building ahead wasn’t a monstrosity, but it still felt overwhelming. He steadied himself against a bollard and closed his eyes. He tried to gather his thoughts and end the sudden instability. It was no use. The last twenty minutes were a blur. He could barely remember driving here, and he had no idea where he’d left his car.

Time and time again his attention returned to the moment when Topham delivered the news, or at least attempted to. ‘Someone came … Werrell … stabbed … but, sir, Emma … God, sir, Emma too …’

Focus, Yorke thought. Right now, focus, like everything depends on it … because it does. Everything and everyone is depending on you. So bloody well

‘Focus,’ he said out loud.

A young lady, pushing a patient in a wheelchair, paused in her journey to ask him if he was okay.

‘Yes.’ Although he was anything but, and would certainly not appear so, hunched over and hyperventilating. ‘It’s just hot, I’ll be fine when I get in.’

‘Well, let me help—’

‘No, no, ma’am, thank you all the same.’ Yorke straightened himself up. ‘It’s not me that needs the help, other people do. And you are busy. Thank you for your kindness, but I’m ready to go in now.’

When he arrived inside the hospital reception, Jake intercepted him. Yorke took him tightly by the upper arm and his friend gripped him by shoulder. Yorke took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Emma?’

‘She’s still fighting. In surgery.’

Yorke exhaled but didn’t dare to feel any relief yet.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that Jake’s face was puffy and red. He envied him this ability to expel the raging turmoil inside.

‘The knife punctured a lung, but they got to her in time.’

‘Are the doctors confident, Jake?’

‘I haven’t spoken to them personally. Barry is here, but I would give him a few more minutes before asking him.’

Yorke rubbed his forehead. Shit. Poor man. ‘And Anabelle? Please don’t tell me that Anabelle is here…’

‘No, Mike. She’s at pre-school.’

‘Good. Okay.’ Yorke rubbed his forehead again. ‘You have the assailant in custody. Werrell is also in surgery?’

‘Yes, and she’ll survive. Her injuries are life-changing … but she will survive.’

‘What else do I need to know?’

‘Well, there is something—’

‘DCI Yorke?’ It was a familiar voice. A voice that could in equal parts both soothe and intimidate. And could both crush and rebuild you. Superintendent Joan Madden.

‘Ma’am.’ Yorke turned.

Joan was a tall woman, strong and agile, testament to a life of extreme exercise. She wore a tailored suit, and her hair was pulled tightly back, and sharpened into a hard knot.

‘How are you feeling, Michael?’ Madden said.

‘Okay,’ Yorke lied.

‘Compromised?’

‘I’m not sure I understand, Ma’am.’

‘Take a walk with me, Michael. DS Pettman, will you please excuse us?’

‘Of course,’ Jake said.

Outside, in the hospital garden, the skyline shimmered. Madden peeled off her suit top. She had a short-sleeved shirt on underneath, and she exposed lean, sinewy arms. They sat on a bench. Yorke tried desperately to control his breathing. Hearing that

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