Chapter Thirty-Five

Philippa charged at Tim, using the pew as a springboard. He did not seem surprised. Instead, his expression was one of disappointment.

He pulled the trigger.

The pain that ensued was paralytic – the most pain she had ever experienced in her life. The shock from the taser caused her to lose all control of her body. She became rigid as a plank of wood and clattered to the floor then began shaking violently. Her face rubbed against the carpet; the short bristles left abrasions on her cheek.

She felt a huge weight crush her back as Tim Chung knelt upon her.

‘I told you not to make this any more difficult for me.’

‘Get off me,’ she tried to say, but her jaws were clenched together and her words were muffled. Her consciousness was frozen.

A sisal texture was being wound around her body. And then Tim hoisted her onto his shoulder.

‘Get off me,’ she said again but there was no strength in her voice.

‘I tried to be nice to you, Philippa. I tried to give you an easy, painless option but now you’ve left me with no choice.’

She felt the rope become taut.

Thud…thud…

She tried to kick out but her legs had become marshmallows.

She was being dragged towards the front of the stage.

Tim dumped Philippa on top of the altar. Her head rolled to the side and she saw her dress stain the pristine white cloth with dirt.

He refreshed the taser cartridge then clambered up after her, hopping in one swift motion.

‘No Tim…’ she pleaded, ‘stop…’

He lifted her upwards.

The noose was visible.

She shook her head gently. The effect of the taser was wearing off, faster than she had realised though she felt almost hungover.

Then the church doors opened ever so slightly.

Was she hallucinating this time? Or was it for real?

Higher and higher she was lifted.

Suddenly, she heard a familiar siren, wailing from outside, lasting a matter of seconds before a crackly voice called: ‘Cardiac arrest, St Paul’s Church!’

Tim was flustered and for a moment, Philippa thought he was going to drop her. But instead he lowered her slowly.

They were both as confused as each other.

‘Get down behind the altar now!’ Tim ordered. He jumped off, taking Philippa with him.

She landed hard on the floor before being scooped back onto her feet.

Her knee throbbed as it crashed against the edge of the altar.

Her phone tumbled out of her pocket. The screen fractured.

She cried out in pain.

Tim was holding her as a human shield with his arm tight around her collarbone. She felt the barrel of the taser pressed against her neck and she panicked at the reminiscence of agony the first time she had experienced the force of fifty thousand volts circulate her body.

‘Who’s there?’ he said.

From behind the door, a young man appeared. His glasses slid halfway down the bridge of his nose.

‘It’s me.’

Karan… what was he doing here?

‘Stay out of this,’ Tim warned.

‘Tim, what’s going on bro?’ asked the SHO.

‘Be careful Karan,’ Philippa called to him. Her voice was regaining power.

He walked deep into the nave, clearly identifying himself as unarmed. He had a bleep in each raised hand – one belonged to him, the other must have been hers.

‘People are coming,’ Karan said, narrowing his eyes.

And then chaos ensued.

‘Drop the girl! Drop the girl!’ a voice barked.

Several uniformed figures entered the church with guns that made Tim’s taser look like a mere toy water-pistol. One of them grabbed Karan and yanked him back away from the line of fire.

‘Drop the girl,’ another masked policeman said. His voice sounded far more authoritative.

‘Come any closer and I will pull this trigger. I’m not sure she’d survive a jolt of electricity to the neck point-blank.’ His grip tightened and the odour of worn leather exuded from his gloves, choking her.

‘Tim, please –’

‘Shut up Philippa!’

There were five fully kitted men in black forming a semi-circle by the entrance. She spied Gemma and Justin appearing at the doorway, curious and bewildered at the same time. They glowed like angels under the rising winter sun.

She closed her eyes. The uncertainty made her quiver.

‘Sir?’ the female officer at the edge of the formation asked.

‘All of you, back off outside the church and shut the door!’ Tim demanded.

The policemen looked at each other. The one, Philippa assumed was the boss nodded affirmatively to his team.

‘I’m going to stay. Everyone is going to leave and I’m going to give them my gun. Let’s just talk this over a little,’ the man said calmly. ‘My name’s Russ. Let’s talk this over now. Nobody needs to get hurt.’

Philippa peered through the corner of her eyes.

Tim’s hand was shaking violently. The taser was rattling in his grasp.

She smelled alcohol in his breath.

‘Get out of here now!’ he said, defying the policeman’s negotiation.

‘Okay, okay… we’re leaving one at a time. There are people outside, I’m going to keep them away from this all. Let this be a chat between two grown men.’

‘P-please… Tim,’ she begged.

‘Don’t make me make you shut up Philippa.’

Happy thoughts; think happy thoughts.

She thought back to the day her and Julia finally left the Carmine’s. They were in their mother’s car, driving through familiar territory, away from the memories of the six-month imprisonment.

‘Home at last, Pips!’ Julia said excitedly. ‘And guess what?’

‘What?’

A grin unfurled across her face. ‘Let me show you. But promise not to tell anyone.’

‘Promise.’

From her pocket, Julia conjured up Mrs Carmine’s locket necklace.

‘You -’

Her sister placed a finger to her lips. ‘Took it this morning; I thought we needed to get her back after everything she did to us.’

They both laughed hysterically all the way home.

If I die, at least I’ll join Julia up there… Julia, I miss you so much… what should I do?

In response to the memory, Philippa suddenly remembered that she had taken two cannulas from the cardiac arrest trolley in the Chartwell Unit.

Yes, she had unwrapped both but one remained in her pocket. Had it fallen out?

Tim’s stranglehold continued to tighten, causing her to gasp.

The rope around her body was tight but there was just enough laxity to manoeuvre as required.

She was running out of time, just as she had been all night.

Her hand made a subtle move to her dress pocket.

The policemen were backing out of the doorway one by one.

The first disappeared.

She fumbled around the pocket, desperately searching for the cannula.

The second disappeared.

She struck gold and unsheathed the cannula with her second and third fingers.

Another policeman departed.

It was now or never.

She swerved her body and stabbed Tim in the thigh with all her might.

Tim screeched. He released her and stumbled back.

This was her chance.

Philippa dived away from him and fell to the floor.

She heard a gunshot. It was far louder than in the movies.

‘Target down!’ she heard Russ say with a wave of his hand.

The other three figures re-emerged; their entry punctuated by the gleam of their polished badges.

Realising what she had done, Philippa managed to break free from the rope. She kicked the taser out of Tim’s hand and tried to stem the flow of blood.

There would be no justice if Tim simply died from this. He needed to face trial for what he had done and serve his time, knowing that he had failed.

‘It’s too late,’ his voice stuttered.

Philippa lifted his top to reveal the gunshot wound. It was a scarlet fountain that immediately drenched her hand as she tried to compress the site.

‘It’s too late,’ Tim said again. His mouth curled into a sinister smile.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It doesn’t matter if I die, Philippa. You’re too late. Everyone on the planet is too late… it… will… be… released… soon and my plan will be… complete… I didn’t work alone…’

‘What are you talking about?’ Philippa growled.

But she felt a heavy grip haul her away and a towel engulf her.

There were people everywhere.

The church was extremely congested.

Overcome with fear, pain and fatigue, she too collapsed.

#

When Philippa Haven stirred, the lights in the church were on full blast and she raised a hand to shield her eyes. The birds sang in full verse outside and lukewarm air rushed in, running along the crisp red carpet to hug her.

‘Philippa! Are you with us?’ somebody said to her with a gentle shake.

She groaned. ‘Dr Steer?’

There was still a ruckus as men in navy uniforms searched the area. She felt the squeeze of a blood pressure cuff and the texture of rubber cuddling her right index finger.

Dr Steer was standing with her arms folded, peering at her above the lenses of her glasses like a wise owl. ‘I suppose it is a good sign that you recognise me; at least you haven’t developed amnesia from the trauma.’

‘H-h-how long was I out for?’

‘Long enough for me to get to the hospital.’

‘I’m sorry; I never found the time to do that –’

‘Lumbar puncture?’ she completed for her. ‘It’s alright. Have some water.’

The consultant handed her a plastic cup.

Philippa became aware of a stinging at her elbow; a bag of saline was connected to a cannula in-situ. She downed the fluids before accidentally dropping the plastic cup, through sheer weakness.

She went to pick it up but Dr Steer beat her to it.

‘The police and Karan have explained everything to me but when you are better, I will be most interested to hear your version of events,’ she said. ‘And Dr Balsack had words with me about you…’

Not right now, Philippa pleaded in her mind. She just wanted to rest.

‘He said you lost your rag at him about the four-hour wait.’

‘I think it was more –’

‘What you said, if what he told me is true –’

‘Look Dr Steer, I –’

‘It’s about time some medical registrars showed a bit of a backbone around here. I’ve never thought too highly of that man myself,’ she added.

Was that a smirk? It certainly seemed so to Philippa.

‘I notice Tim tried to condemn you to the same fate as one of our former SHOs – a girl named Melissa Dowd. A very sad case… I found the body. I tried so hard to bring some changes to the rota but management refused to budge. In fact, I remember Dr Balsack well, he of all the consultants was perhaps the most obstructive. What you said to him was spot on.’

Philippa could not believe what she was hearing.

‘I’m starting my ward round in half an hour but you rest up. We’ll check you over then I’ll give you tonight off – in fact let’s make it for as long as you need,’ she informed Philippa before turning around and exiting the church.

‘Is there anyone you need me to contact? Parents?’

Philippa thought for a moment. ‘No… actually, you could call my Mum.’

The consultant nodded. ‘Take care.’

The police and Karan have explained everything to me…

‘Karan?’ Philippa sat upright on one of the many wooden pews and scanned the building for her junior colleague.

The SHO heard her and wandered over. ‘How are you feeling, boss?’

‘Better thanks,’ she replied. There was a sheet covering what was undoubtedly the body of Tim Chung not too far from her. She sighed and shook her head solemnly; there was no denying that she felt sorry for one of her former friends, after what happened with his wife…

‘That was some cannula technique there – never seen one used like that before,’ he chuckled. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘No… but tell me this, Karan; how did you know?’

‘About all this?’ he said flicking his wrist around like a spinning top.

‘Yes.’

Karan chuckled. ‘Philippa, we’re doctors, we’re trained to be observant. You think I hadn’t become suspicious when someone was dying every two hours on our shift?’

It was refreshing to know that someone else had noticed the morbid sequence.

‘Nearly an hour ago, I saw you bombing it out of the Ops Room in a state. I went to see what was going on and found that you had left your bleep… and this,’ he said plucking from his back pocket, her notes for the shift with all the inscribed clues from the night. ‘You also left yourself logged into patient records.’

‘So much for that data protection talk at induction,’ said Philippa, rolling her eyes. They ached.

Karan laughed. ‘But I wasn’t expecting to see Melissa Dowd on there; we’ve all heard that story. I simply put two and two together and gathered you must have come to St Paul’s – that you had decided whatever was going on had something to do with her.’

‘But did you not think I was crazy?’

‘I did a little at first – I’m not going to lie – but then your bleep went off. Whoever was trying to get through called you three times, so I answered it.’

‘Who was it?’

‘Only the bloody lab telling me some sample you dropped off contained strychnine. It could not have been a coincidence, especially after what I saw on your notes when I was sticking that drain into Charlotte Barber.’

Philippa smiled for the first time in a long while.

Tim Chung, the serial killer behind tonight’s murders may have outsmarted her all night but he had underestimated her SHO.

‘By the time I reached the church, I realised I was too late. I followed you here and managed to overhear some of the conversation but then I put the cardiac arrest call out to distract Tim and get help as soon as possible.’

‘Thank you so much, Karan.’

‘So, Tim killed Rob with strychnine?’

Philippa nodded.

Karan swore.

‘And he killed Jonathan Wickshaw, and Mary Surrey who you never met, and tried to kill Eric Pails,’ she told him.

‘Wow… you could almost write a book about it!’

‘I might.’

‘You should have gotten me involved sooner.’

‘I couldn’t trust anyone,’ Philippa replied. Her voice became gravelly. ‘Rob – he died because I told him what was going on.’

The bleep went off although in theory it was Philippa’s.

‘It’s A&E – not sure if there are phones in here though,’ he said, offering the device to her.

Philippa shook her head and gently pushed the bleep away. ‘Go ahead, you answer it; you’re more than capable.’

He seemed full of pride.

‘Oh Karan, before you answer that.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Thanks for drafting in the police.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘The police – that wasn’t me; someone else called them apparently.’

If it wasn’t Karan… then who did?