King Rat: A Relentlessly Terrifying British Crime Thriller (DCI Kett Crime Thrillers Book 11) by Alex Smith

Author:Alex Smith [Smith, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Relentless Media
Published: 2022-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Porter didn’t know exactly where the young man who had run from the bungalow was being held, but when he and Savage walked into the Norwich and Norfolk University Hospital, it became immediately apparent.

The building was like Bedlam, an alarm sounding and at least four burly security guards stampeding down the corridor.

“Hey, this the John Doe?” Porter called to them, but nobody replied.

They followed the guards up the stairs to the middle floor, tracking them down the wide corridors before arriving at a ward. A young nurse was holding the door open for them with one hand and pushing a tissue to her bloody nose with the other. Porter fished his warrant card from his pocket, holding it up as he ran through the door. She barely even glanced at it.

“What happened?” Savage asked.

“Woke up and went mental,” the nurse said. “Thumped me and Michelle, then tried to jump out of the window.”

The security guards were piling into a side room, joining a couple that were already there. Porter couldn’t see a thing past the crush, but it was clear from the shouts and screams that somebody was kicking off in there.

“Hey, police,” he yelled. “Make room.”

He was halfway through the door when somebody barged in front of him, an older woman in a white coat.

“Wait your bloody turn,” she said. “Move, I need to sedate him.”

Somehow, she squeezed between the various bodies. Porter poked his head into the room, seeing the young man who’d been hit by Norman Balls’ car. He was thrashing back and forth on the floor, his neck wrapped in a collar, but he couldn’t get far because he was cuffed to the frame of the bed. Two of the security guards held him down while the doctor prepared her shot.

“Wait,” Porter yelled.

But the needle was already in his arm. The result was almost instantaneous, the man’s body flopping, the doctor cradling his head before it could hit the floor.

“Bloody hell,” she said, sitting down next to him, the man’s head on her lap. “What happened?”

“Went nuts,” said another voice, somebody Porter couldn’t see past the crush of people. “Looked like he was trying to kill himself. Nobody would survive a jump like that.”

Working together, the security team hefted the kid back onto his bed and he lay there, out for the count.

Porter stood to the side to let the security team out, offering them a polite nod that wasn’t returned. Then he made his way into the room, smelling the ripe stench of fresh human excrement and putting his sleeve to his face. The other person who had spoken was a woman in her thirties, dressed in the dark blue uniform of a senior sister. She was doing her best to tie back her hair with shaking hands. She glanced at Porter, who showed her his ID.

“DI Peter Porter, Norfolk Constabulary,” he said.

The doctor glanced up from where she was sitting, looking twice as exhausted as Porter felt.

“He woke half an hour ago,” the senior sister went on.

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