Gordon Ferris - Truth Dare kill

I survived too – as I learned later – because Dachau was one of the oldest concentration camps; the Nazis had opened it before the war and filled it with political dissidents. Then they started adding Poles and Russians. It wasn’t yet a factory for slaughtering Jews or gypsies. Though the guards did well enough in their casual way. I met little fat smiley Joseph at some point, though by then he wasn’t fat and he wasn’t smiling much. I don’t know if he made it or not.

Full circle. I was back in an English hospital after a mangling by sadists in uniform. But this time it had been by a good old British bobby. Were we all rotten, deep inside? I was beginning to think I really was capable of murder.

That we all were. I heard voices at the foot of my bed. One was familiar.

“Is he awake, nurse? How is he?” Cassells come to gloat? “He’s not to be disturbed. I told that policeman the same t’ing,” said my guardian Irish angel.

“The police have gone. It’s all right. I won’t disturb him. Just wanted to see how the man is doing. He was one of my chaps, you see.”

“Well, maybe you should take better care of him then.”

I opened my eyes and tried to raise my head. It hurt like hell.

“There you are, Daniel old chap! You all right?” He came to stand beside me so that with a little tilt of my head, I could look up at him.

I tried to speak and managed a cough, which was a big mistake. The sweat broke out all over as the pain fired across my chest.

I finally got out, “Super, Gerald. Just super.”

He had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry this happened, old chap.”

“What did they tell you, Gerald? That I fell down the stairs?”

His face reddened. “Actually, they said you’d been resisting arrest.”

I smiled, though my lips were so split it may not have been obvious. “Does that seem likely, old chap?” I asked.

He had the grace to look ashamed. “Had no idea. Wouldn’t have got the boys in blue involved, if I’d known. That’s a fact. You’ve been through enough, for god’s sake.”

Amen to that I thought. “So are they waiting till I’m better before they take me back for round two?”

“No, no! Look, the office has dropped all charges. And I pointed out that they might just find themselves on the spot for being shall we say a little over-zealous? Anyway, they aren’t taking things further.”

“Can you lift me up?” The nurse and Cassells helped me sit up so that I was propped up at forty-five degrees. The process was excruciating, but it felt better than having to talk horizontally.

I gasped out, “What’s the damage, nurse? You mentioned ribs?”

She was about my age, and round-faced. We shared the red hair, though hers was more ginger. A cheery lady, just the sort you need in a hospital.

“Now, don’t you go fussing yoursel’. Whatever’s wrong wit’ you, you’ll mend.”

She saw my look. “All right, all right. Starting at the top. You’ve got bruising and cuts – none as fancy as the old one, mind. But they’re nicer stitched and we’ll have the sutures out in a few days. Arms and hands bruised. Three ribs broken on the left side and multiple contusions on your back and front. Your testicles may be a bit uncomfortable for a day or two till the swelling goes down. And your legs are black and blue.”

I lifted my arms and saw the swollen fingers and the purple and green discolouration.

Cassells looked distraught. “This is too bad, too damn bad! Look, Daniel, I’m not having this. I’m going to press charges on your behalf, even if you did put up a bit of resistance, eh? No need for this level of response. Dammit.” He was genuinely angry. I was almost touched.

“It’s a waste of time, Gerald. My word against theirs. But just to make it clear: I didn’t resist arrest. I got beat up. There’s a certain evil sod who’s got it in for me. In fact, it’s probably not just me. He’s just plain rotten.”

He looked at me intently. “Wilson the name? Detective Inspector Wilson? Big chap?”

“That’s the man.”

Cassells smiled. “Nasty bit of work. Wanted to see your file. Told him not a chance. Security and all that. But tell you what, you might not have been resisting arrest, but someone gave him a super black eye and bloody nose. Good for you, old man.”

I wondered if my wee bit of retaliation had been worth it, and whether I’d still have intact ribs if I hadn’t had a go. But then I was certain… I was bloody glad I’d fought back, no matter how feebly. There was no chance before, in that other cell. It had left me feeling ashamed. That I’d become someone who lets folk do what they like to me. So it was a small grim satisfaction to have landed a couple on Wilson, no matter the cost.

They let me out in a couple of days. I was stiff and sore and looked like an early piece of work by Frankenstein, but I could walk and move about pretty well. Bending or lifting was hard even with my ribs tightly bandaged. I had to stop a couple of times on the way up my stairs. It was on the last landing below mine that I heard her call out from above me.

“Thank god! Oh, Danny, where have you been? What have they done to you?” Val sailed down the stairs to me, her spindly limbs flying, and would have hugged me, I’m sure, if I hadn’t warned her back, pointing to my chest.

“I’m fine. Just a bit bruised round the ribs. So no jiving for a while.” I grinned at her flushed cheeks and her wayward hair.

“Your poor face! Look at your poor face!”

“You mean I’ve lost my good looks?”

She led the way to my room as if she was clearing a minefield; opening doors, moving a chair. She made me sit in the broken old chair while she fussed and made tea and put the fire on. Now I knew how my Dad felt after a day down the pit. Val sat on the rug in front of the fire and tucked her legs under her in an impossible contortion.

“Right. I’m listening. You tell me every little thing that’s happened. And none of your manly keeping it all to yourself, mind. I want all the details.”

I told her. I told her nearly everything. But I didn’t, couldn’t, tell her about the accusation of murder in my files. I didn’t want her to fear me, or loathe me. I was managing that pretty well myself.

She asked questions at first but grew silent as I told her of Wilson and how it had brought back the memories of the Gestapo. She drew her knees up under her chin and hugged them to her, and gradually she buried her face in her knees, as though she couldn’t bear to hear any more. All I could see was the mass of her hair tumbling over her bony knees. I stopped and let the quiet envelop us.

Outside it was getting dark, but already I noticed that the light was fading later each day as the year edged forward. But there was a long winter still ahead. I stopped. She raised her face and looked at me seriously.

“What’s wrong, Danny? What did you find in your file?”

Her dark eyes knifed through me. How in god’s name could I tell her? But her frank gaze held mine and wouldn’t let go until I did.

“I need a Scotch.” I retrieved it from my desk and poured a couple of fingers.

After a big slug I looked into the fire and told her the rest. She kept her gaze on me until I ran out of words. I didn’t try to fudge it. No point protesting my innocence. I didn’t feel innocent. The silence hung for a while. I was scared to look at her.

“Do you think you did it?” she asked matter-of-factly.

I turned my face to her. “I don’t know, Val. I just don’t know. That’s the god’s honest truth.”

“Do you think you’re capable of it?”

That made me pause. “No. I like girls. Always have.” I smiled ruefully. “But I don’t like being messed around…”