He told me not to call or send information over the Internet, so I am in Edinburgh to bring him the info he was looking for. And, of course, I forgot to get his address in Edinburgh! You know what a scatterbrain I am!
If we could meet for coffee that would be great too. The information I have is very urgent, though, so if you could get in touch a.s.a.p. that would be excellent.
Salutations,
Neville Padayachee — Indian Jones
Neville checked the wording to make sure it sounded casual enough not to alarm his friend. For her to disclose the information, he had to make it sound as if Patrick instructed him to find him, otherwise she would never oblige. His email looked amicable enough and he hit SEND just as his pudding arrived.
Chapter 19
Paddy was done with the red tape and statements it took to get him out of the police station. Due to this small diversion of death, bullets, and mayhem he was delayed by six hours. His first priority was to call his superior to report that he had arrived back, but he was certainly not going to have the item tested at Exova anymore, or tested at all actually. There was too much at stake with the Vril Society having its tentacles everywhere. If they could find him and get access this easily before, it would expose his position even more if he had the thing examined by more outside parties who could very well be part of the underworld he had just avoided getting exterminated by.
Once he had called, his only desire was to get home. It had been an insane assignment he undertook and all he wanted to do now was to see his Cassie and curl up on the couch with a movie and a beer. Through the downpour he ran to get to his car, still parked at the airport parking bays. He called his commander and made up some story about a false lead that led to nothing eventually, closing that avenue of investigation for now, as he said. While he spoke he could hear the beep of another call every few seconds, but he could not abandon a call to his superior.
As soon as he was done talking, he took the other call, hoping to hear his wife’s sweet voice. But what he learned from the administration staff member at Astley Ainslie Hospital sealed his day in a vacuumed bubble of abject misery.
“Where is she?” he asked, his heart throbbing wildly. “Is she alive? I’m on my way, I will be right there!”
He sped from the airport road to the hospital in the gray wetness, disregarding all traffic rules to make it to Cassie in less time. Through the lanes he weaved, twice nearly colliding with other vehicles. When he reached the second block from the hospital, Paddy’s car climbed the pavement to get past the stalling car in front of him to get ahead sooner. Leaving several furious motorists in his trail, Paddy sped into the hospital parking lot with tears in his eyes.
You had to go and clean up Nina’s mess for Sam, didn’t you? his inner turmoil manifested as he ran through the rain to the main entrance. Of course, they are more important than your loving wife’s safety, eh? What special brand of prick leaves his wife unprotected while he goes off to find the biggest stick he could to poke at the hornet’s nest?
He made for the hospital entrance and asked for his wife’s room. Through the wide, polished corridors that reflected the lights above like the surface of a pond, Paddy walked briskly, almost jogging to get to Cassandra’s room. His heart was wild in his chest and he dreaded what he was going to see when he reached her bed. Perhaps he did not want to see her, he did not want to reach the right room. That way he could not know how badly injured she was, and more than anything he would not have to look her in the eye after what he allowed to happen to her.
Paddy huffed from the running and jumping of steps up three flights to the third floor. As he neared her room his eyes burned with tears as his mind burned with rage and an unquenchable lust for revenge. It was not as if his Cassie was a tough, independent type of woman. She had always been a soft, gentle person who was scared of her own shadow if it stretched too high. He could not even imagine what she had to suffer for something like this to happen to her. Not only a home breach, but to be assaulted! He feared she would blame him, although he completely took the blame on himself already.
“Special Agent Smith?” the duty nurse asked as he stumbled through the hallway, looking lost and dazed. His tie was loose and his wet hair was a mess when he locked eyes with the nurse. In her opinion the poor man needed a sedative, by the looks of him. Too much stress and the burden of guilt bore down on Paddy.
“Yes, that’s me. My wife?” he panted heavily, holding his head.
“She is all right, sir,” the nurse soothed him. She could see that the man was about to collapse, so she softened her voice and smiled, “Come, I’ll take you to go and say hello.”
Her manner made a clear difference in his demeanor. Not once in the past day of tragedy, death, and terror had he heard one gentle remark or caring voice.
“Thank you, nurse. Thank you so much,” he sighed when she showed him into Cassie’s room. To her right there was a sleeping patient, but the other four beds were vacant. The natural light from the window was dim, as dusk and the cold raindrops sat against the glass, which he looked through to determine if the blinds were open or slightly pulled.
He stole to her bedside, “Cassie? Love? Can you hear me?”
Paddy wanted to cry, but he could not let his brave wife see him break. There she was, her face swollen and bruised black and green about her cheeks and eyes. Small red stripes marked the impact of the vase and the window glass she crashed through to escape a certain death. Her leg was in a cast and her forearms and hands were heavily cut and bruised from her altercation with her attacker.
“What happened?” he asked, not caring if she could hear him or not. He just needed to ask. The nurse came in and whispered, “She was beaten and suffered a bullet wound to the left lower leg, but otherwise she is calm and responds well to her treatment.”
“Did she say who did this?” he asked, but his voice shivered so that most of his words sank away under the threat of an uncontrollable spell of tears.
“All I could make of it was that the intruder wanted something she did not have. Then she said the assailant was looking for her husband….and something about stabbing the intruder with her scarf stuff?” the nurse informed him. “Mr. Smith, I am very worried about the state you are in. Can I perhaps get the doctor to give you a little something for the shock?”
Paddy wanted to dismiss everything she said that did not pertain to his wife’s attack out of sheer fury, but she was so genuinely concerned about his well-being that Paddy reckoned a mild tranquilizer would serve him well while he waited for Cassie to wake up.
“I’m going to need what she was given,” he told the nurse, gesturing at his wife who was breathing deeply in a sound sleep. Her skin was riddled with cuts, her body ravaged by bruises, yet her countenance was one of courage and strength that Paddy could not help but greatly admired. Cassie proved that she could in fact take care of herself in a crisis, no matter how battered she came out of it. He was proud of his wife for surviving, for fighting.
“Mr. Smith,” the doctor said quietly, “I’m Dr. Burns. Your wife is going to be fine. We treated her for shock and gave her some IV Valium to help her rest and relieve the pain.”
“Thanks, doctor,” Paddy said, “but have the police been to the scene?”
“Yes, the neighbors called the police before they drove your wife here. There is a squad car or two guarding the house. I trust you have spoken to the officers?”
“No, I just got back to the city. I got the hospital call and came straight here. I have not been home yet,” Paddy told him.