Ken McClure: Past Lives

Ignatius stopped and raised his palms. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Calm down.’

One of the nuns cried out and came running up to Ignatius. She had found the sister the man had tried to strangle. ‘It’s Sister Angelica!’ she cried. ‘She’s been badly injured.’

Ignatius turned towards Eli. ‘You?’ exclaimed the priest.

‘No, it was one of the men. I tried to stop him but he had the strength of ten men.’

Ignatius put his hand to his forehead in frustration. ‘God, what a mess,’ he exclaimed. He seemed unsure what to say or do next. The nun who had brought the news seemed to find his indecision infectious. She exchanged anxious looks with the others.

‘I think you’re lying,’ said Ignatius, looking at Eli. He turned to the nuns. ‘He’s lying, sisters. He’s the one who attacked Sister Angelica.’

Eli felt all eyes turn towards him. ‘Nonsense. I tried to protect her! I can even point the man out to you...’

Eli’s voice trailed off as Ignatius started to move towards him again. He raised the plaster he was still holding but the threat didn’t work. In a desperate bid to attract outside attention, he turned and threw the plaster at a small window high up on the wall beside the door. The glass broke and he started yelling for help at the top of his voice.

Ignatius quickly overpowered him and smothered his cries for help by pushing a piece of cloth into his mouth. Stroud prepared an injection and jabbed it into his right buttock, straight through his jeans. Eli tried fighting against the feeling of tiredness that swept over him like a blanket of fog but it was a lost cause.

‘We must inform the authorities, Father,’ said one of the nuns, ‘and call an ambulance for Sister Angelica.’

‘No, Sister,’ replied Ignatius firmly, Dr Stroud will look after her. ‘We really must think of the consequences for our work here. We don’t want the police involved.’

‘But surely it’s our duty...’

Ignatius held up his hand. ‘No, Sister, I’ve decided.’

‘What is to happen to him?’ asked another of the nuns, clearly unhappy with the situation and looking down at Eli.

‘He can help us with our work,’ said the priest.

A sudden loud banging came to the front door. It was accompanied by the bell being pulled vigorously. ‘Open up in there!’

Ignatius snapped out of his preoccupation and took a moment to compose himself before replying. ‘We are an enclosed religious order. Please leave us in peace.’

‘Open up! We heard cries for help and there’s broken glass all over the place out here. I order you to open up!’ There was more banging on the door. It sounded like rifle butts.

‘One moment.’

Ignatius hesitated as long as he could before opening up the door to two Israeli soldiers, who entered, looking about them warily. Their automatic weapons were held on shoulder slings, barrels dipped just below the horizontal, but their fingers were on the triggers.

‘We had a small disturbance,’ said Ignatius, his thin lips doing their best to effect a smile. ‘One of our patients became disturbed. We are a hospital and sometimes our patients do get a little excited: they are not always responsible for their actions, poor souls.’

‘A hospital?’ repeated one of the soldiers, taking in everything around him. ‘What kind of hospital?’

Ignatius tapped his temple. ‘For unfortunates,’ he replied.

‘It says nothing outside about this being a hospital,’ said one of the other soldiers.

‘It is only recently that we saw the need to take in such people,’ replied Ignatius. It sounded weak and he knew it. He tried to add substance by adding, ‘Our order demands that we be flexible and do what God tells us to whenever and wherever we are needed.’

The soldiers seemed less than impressed. They were more interested in Eli lying prostrate on the floor. ‘What happened to him?’

‘This is the patient I told you about,’ said Ignatius. ‘We got his medication wrong and he went a bit wild. It took several of us to restrain him, poor man. The doctor here has given him something to calm him down. The sisters were just about to get him cleaned up and off to bed when you arrived. I apologise most sincerely for the trouble we’ve put you to.’

The soldier bent down to take a closer look at Eli. ‘How long has he been a patient here?’ he asked.

‘About two months.’

The soldier nodded slowly then suddenly took a pace backwards and rattled back the bolt on his weapon. He levelled it at the priest. ‘I spoke to him not more than three hours ago at the Jaffa Gate?’

‘There must be some mistake,’ said Ignatius calmly.

‘I don’t think so,’ said the soldier. ‘I remember him well enough. He was with another man.’

‘It’s a case of mistaken identity,’ said Ignatius. ‘If you give me a moment I will show you this man’s admission papers.’

‘Fetch them,’ said the soldier. ‘In the meantime I’m going to call my officer. Go with him,’ he said to his companion.

Ignatius held up his hands and said, ‘Please! Show some respect. This is a church. There’s no call to defile it with guns. I’ll only be a few moments. You have my word.’

‘On you go,’ agreed the soldier reluctantly.

‘Perhaps you’ll allow the doctor here to help me,’ asked Ignatius. ‘He knows where everything is. It will be quicker.’

The soldier nodded and waved them both away with the barrel of his gun.

Ignatius and Stroud left the room.

After five minutes, the soldiers grew impatient: one went to investigate. He found an open window leading into the lane at the back of the building. There was no sign of Ignatius or Stroud. They had to wait until Eli Aswar came round however, to find out that Benny Zur was missing too.

Kansas City

USA

Macandrew looked anxiously at his watch. Karen Bliss was late and he was becoming impatient. He lifted the phone and was just about to hit the third number of her extension when a knock came to the door and he put it back down on the rest.

‘Come in.’

‘Sorry, I got held up,’ said Karen. ‘It’s always the same when you’re in a hurry.’

Macandrew nodded. ‘All set?’

‘Lead on,’ said Karen, holding up the portable recorder she was carrying so that Macandrew could see that she hadn’t forgotten.

They started out along the corridor.

‘You’re nervous,’ said Karen.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘You checked that you had your keys twice when once would have been enough. That tells me your mind was on something else the first time.’

‘God save me from psychiatrists,’ said Macandrew. ‘Do you analyse Jeff’s behaviour like this?’ he asked, referring to Karen’s husband, also a doctor.

‘Can’t help it,’ smiled Karen, ‘If he’s feeling guilty about anything, I’ll know it before he does.’

They reached the surgical recovery suites and Macandrew checked with the head nurse about Jane Francini.

‘Nurse Leiden is with her at the moment. She’s showing signs of coming round.’

Macandrew and Karen entered the room and found a young black nurse trying to reason with Jane Francini and coming off second-best.

‘Mrs Francini, you’re in hospital. You’ve been very ill but now you’re getting better. Just take it easy, will you. Relax.’

‘Stop calling me stupid names,’ stormed Jane. ‘I want my mother. Where is she? Why isn’t she here?’

Macandrew stayed in the background while Karen switched on her recorder, adjusted the levels and approached the bedside. She nodded to the nurse to step aside and took her place.

‘There’s obviously been some kind of mistake here,’ she said soothingly.