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‘Shingles,’ Striker said again.
Dr Osterma
Striker said nothing back as he thought this over. ‘And Dalia?’ he asked.
Dr Osterma
‘And where is your wife now then?’
‘In the bath, I would think. She was drawing one when I heard the doorbell.’ Dr Osterma
Striker ignored the comment and focused the conversation back on other matters. ‘How long were you treating Mandy for?’
Dr Osterma
‘And Sarah Rose?’
‘About the same.’
‘What about Billy?’
‘I’ve been treating Billy ever since he came back from Afghanistan and was recommended to my programme, which would be about three years ago – is there a point to all this, Detective?’
‘What about Larisa Logan? How long were you treating her?’
Dr Osterma
‘I know you were treating her.’
‘I will neither confirm nor deny that.’
‘You don’t have to,’ Striker said. ‘I already have confirmation. I know that you were seeing all four patients – Mandy, Sarah, Billy and Larisa. Now three of them are dead and Larisa is missing. Does that not seem odd to you?’
Dr Osterma
Striker was unmoved. ‘It tells me something else – that maybe I’ve been looking at the wrong person.’
Dr Osterma
‘I wouldn’t think so.’
Dr Osterma
Striker nodded. ‘That choice is entirely yours.’
When Dr Osterma
‘Detective Striker?’ she said, surprised.
‘Mrs Osterma
She looked down at herself – at the revealing kimono she wore – and her cheeks blushed. She gestured upstairs, to the west side of the house. ‘I’m sorry . . . I was getting into the bath . . . I thought you were Dalia coming back . . .’
‘Do not speak to him,’ Dr Osterma
Lexa’s face took on a confused look.
Striker ignored the man. He nodded to Lexa, then moved to the front door. Once there, he turned around and looked at them. Dr Osterma
Shingles? Striker thought.
He thought of how he and Felicia had almost burned up in that fire. And he remembered the camera set up outside the window, facing in through the iron-barred panes of glass, capturing their demise. It angered him, and he felt like grabbing the doctor right there. Snapping him in two. Instead, he gave the man a long, hard look and smiled. ‘One last thing you might be interested in, Dr Osterma
The angry, smug look fell from Dr Osterma
Lexa looked at her husband. ‘What videos? What is he talking about?’
Dr Osterma
‘Not for you, it won’t be.’
Striker walked through the front door and never looked back.
Seventy-Two
The Adder was sitting on the cold concrete floor, in his Place of Solace, thinking of nothing when he heard the loud angry shrenk! of the hatch being opened. Had he not locked it? He turned around oddly from his seated position, surprised by the familiar sound, and slowly slid the DVD – his most precious of all the precious videos – into the i
Clambering down the ladder was the Doctor.
This surprised the Adder, for no one ever came down here. No one. Not in ten years. This room had always been his, and his alone. Having the hatch opened at all was an intrusion.
He climbed to his feet and turned around.
The Doctor reached the bottom of the ladder. ‘You taped it? You taped it, didn’t you? You stupid, stupid fool!’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t lie to me !’
SMACK!
The Adder felt his head jolt to the left and he reeled backwards, his cheek hot and stinging. For a moment, he did nothing. He just stood there in the centre of the room and felt the air hum about him. Felt that feeling wash over him once more. And suddenly he was fading again. Melting away into that other place. And the sounds started to come back, starting with the high-pitched laughter.
‘I need some space,’ he found himself saying. ‘I’m losing control.’
The Doctor paid him no attention and instead found the box of DVDs on the floor. With one quick swoop, they were taken away.
And just like that the Adder couldn’t breathe.
‘No,’ he managed to get out.
‘You can’t have these.’
‘They’re mine.’
‘I’m destroying them.’
‘No, they’re mine! They’re mine!’
The Adder felt his entire body begin to shake, so hard the room wobbled and vibrated all around him.
As always, the Doctor paid him no heed. Just ignored him. Climbed back up the ladder. And took away the videos of everything the Adder held precious in life. Everything the Adder loved. Everything the Adder needed to calm the frantic voices in his head and keep himself rooted in the reality of this cold and horrible world.
The hatch slammed shut.
And then he was alone again.
Just him and the voices.
‘No,’ he said softly, and then there was a desperation in his voice even he could hear. ‘NO!’
The voices came at him in waves. Thunderous, overpowering waves. And the Adder did the only thing he could do. He gave in and let the voices take him away. And after that he remembered nothing.
Seventy-Three
Striker exited the front walkway of the lot, rounded the corner on to the sidewalk and continued east until he was out of view. He then ran back down the side of the neighbour’s lot, climbed the wall and dropped down next to Felicia under the dark shadows of the plum trees.