Хилари Боннер - Deadly Dance

Immediately after Willis was charged, Vogel left to visit Dawn Saslow at Southmead Hospital, where she had remained since being rescued from her underground prison. Saslow seemed to have perked up. When Vogel had visited the day after her admission, she’d still been tearful, disorientated and clearly in considerable pain. Now, she was sitting up in bed, in one of the smart, single rooms which Southmead provides. Her stripy, tracksuit-style pyjamas were clearly not hospital issue, someone must have brought her own in for her. She had also washed her hair.

Make-up, however, would be out of the question for some time. Saslow’s face was still a mass of bruises and Vogel knew that her right cheek bone had been fractured. Her nose and lips were swollen and distorted. When she spoke, her voice was slightly slurred.

‘Good to see you, boss,’ she said. ‘Sorry I’m not a prettier sight.’

Her voice and manner were cheerful, but Vogel could see that keeping them that way was a huge effort for the young DC. He told her that Willis had been charged and professed more confidence than he actually felt that the man would stand trial.

‘That’s great, boss,’ said Saslow.

She seemed slightly awkward with him, however, which she had never been before. Perhaps, Vogel thought, she too held him responsible for what had happened. He didn’t blame her. He only stayed a few minutes. He could see how tired Saslow was and he felt awkward with her too.

For once in his life, he reckoned he had worked enough twelve and even eighteen hour days.

He headed home, feeling as low as he ever had in his career.

Mary was at his side as soon as he walked through the door.

‘Any news?’ she asked.

‘We’ve charged him.’

‘Yes. You said you were going to. I meant, news about you, David.’

Vogel had told her that he might be suspended and shook his head.

‘It’ll be all right, you’ll see,’ he said.

‘Yes, of course,’ replied Mary, smiling brightly. It was a smile that was almost as forced as Dawn Saslow’s attempt at cheeriness, thought Vogel. Mary’s mobile, which was in her jacket pocket, rang. She took it out, glanced at the screen and put it back in her pocket.

‘Aren’t you going to answer it?’

Mary shook her head.

‘Anyone I know?’ Vogel asked.

Mary coloured slightly.

‘I… I was going to tell, you,’ she began hesitantly. ‘Only you had so much on and then, what with Willis and Saslow, well…’

‘Go on,’ said Vogel flatly.

‘Well, you did tell me to contact your sister myself, if I wanted to. You know — when we had that silly row. So I did. I phoned her. I explained that you were unsure what to do about it all, that you weren’t quite ready. She had no idea you’d not even been told you were adopted. I explained how shocked you were and everything…’

Her voice tailed off.

‘Did you, indeed?’ Vogel murmured.

‘I’m so sorry, David,’ said Mary, ‘I know I shouldn’t have done it without talking to you again.’

‘And that was her calling, the woman who says she is my sister?’

‘Yes.’ Mary paused.

‘I don’t think there is much doubt that she’s your sister, David,’ she continued boldly. ‘Your half-sister.’

‘Give me your phone,’ said Vogel.

Mary removed it from her pocket again and handed it to him. He pushed return call.

A bright young-sounding female voice responded.

‘Hello Mary, thanks for calling back.’

Vogel didn’t speak for a few seconds.

‘Hello?’ queried the voice.

‘It’s David,’ he replied quietly.

There was a pause at the other end of the line.

‘Oh my God,’ said the voice. ‘It’s just so good to speak to you.’

‘It’s good to speak to you, too,’ replied Vogel and, rather to his surprise, he found that he meant it.

He reached out with his free arm for Mary and pulled her close.

I am incredibly grateful, for their expert advice and assistance, to: NHS Psychiatric Consultant Dr Billy Boland, and former Detective Sergeant Frank Waghorn of the Avon and Somerset Constabulary.