Nick Oldham: Psycho Alley

‘Just a coincidence, huh?’ Rik was sat upright on his bed, fully clothed, waiting for the almighty consultant. Bandages showed around his neck and shoulders, and his arm was in a sling to ease the pressure on his neck. He still looked pitifully weak, however. ‘You did a good job, H,’ Rik said.

‘Almost got you killed along the line, though.’

‘The routine ones are always the ones that bite your arse. Don’t blame yourself. One o’ those things. At least I live to fight and love another day.’ He paused. ‘You still don’t know who’s out to beat you to a pulp, though, do you?’

‘Nah,’ Henry answered absently. ‘Gotta be someone from Manchester, I reckon. I’m pretty much running out of suspects — though there is one irate husband still on the prowl.’

‘How do you feel about it?’

‘Threatened,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ll just have to take more care, be ready.’

Henry excused himself after a few minutes, stating he had a lot of work to do, which was true. He wandered slowly through the hospital, feeling pretty happy with things until he reached the main entrance foyer at the front of the hospital. There, eyes raised up to the information and direction boards, stood a spectacular-looking Debbie Black, dressed to maim, if not kill. Before she spotted him, Henry dived into the newsagents and grabbed a magazine from the shelves. He hid behind it as he saw Debbie find what she was looking for on the boards, adjust her clothing with an all-over quiver of her body, and set off down the corridor. It was clear to Henry where she was headed — to Rik Dean’s ward. There was no other reason for her to be here.

Henry replaced the magazine on the shelf and scuttled quickly out of the hospital, hoping that Rik Dean would not hate him too much.

As he drove away, the figure who had been watching Henry, also got into a car and began to follow, slotting in two cars behind. The person’s breathing, as ever, when Henry Christie was in view, was shallow and juddery. One day, that person thought, Henry Christie would get more than just deserts for all the suffering he had caused. He would get dead.