Page 82 of Between the Lies

CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE

Robert ran up to the police tape shouting, ‘My girlfriend’s in there. Let me through.’

Never before had he wished so hard to have his warrant card with him. After he’d received Joshua’s message about armed police being summoned to an address on the High Street because someone – reports suggested someone ethnically Indian – had been shot dead, Robert hadn’t been able to think. Except to run out here and see.

In his heart, he knew. It had to be Nina.

But how the hell had this happened? Owning a gun in the UK wasn’t easy. You needed a permit – or a link to an illegal smuggling ring. When he’d sent her off on her own, he’d never imagined this outcome.

The police constable stationed by the tape shook his head. ‘I cannae let you through, sir.’

The media had already set up camp and, Robert knew, had their ears trained on this conversation. He could make a big deal out of it, kick and scream till someone helped him out, but even his dim senses knew how sensitive a situation like this could be.

Robert peered over the police constable’s shoulder, but apart from a few parked police cars and an ambulance, he could see nothing.

He pulled out his phone and dialled Joshua. His pal picked up a minute later. ‘Sorry, Rob, I’ve got nothing. But the situation has garnered a large-scale response. Cheryl has been summoned, but she’s pissed at you and won’t tell me anything.’

‘I just need to know where Nina is. If… if she’s the one who…’ Robert walked to the corner, trying to find a place to talk in private, but the onlookers, media and police constables made it impossible.

‘Can you talk to Cheryl?’ Robert heard the plea in his voice. ‘Nina won’t have me as her emergency contact, so if she is hurt and not… you know… I won’t know.’

A pause sounded down the line. ‘Maybe we could call hospitals – ask if she’s been rushed into A&E?’

It took him over half an hour to contact all the hospitals he could think of. He was so desperate, he even called a few outside of Glasgow. And everyone told him the same thing: they would only call her emergency contact.

Then Robert tried a different tactic, calling the hospitals again, saying he was looking for an unidentified female of Indian ethnicity rushed to the hospital after sustaining injuries and perhaps suffering from amnesia. And he told them his name was Robert.

The third hospital, all the way over in the west end of Glasgow, had some news for him. Robert almost cried with relief. But the person on the line cautioned him, ‘As I said, they are unidentified at the moment but match your description. I’m not aware of the extent of their injuries or their status. But you could come here and speak to the staff.’

Robert would take that.

As he ran towards the road where traffic still flowed, his vision blurred with tears.Not now, not now!Twenty minutes later, he bolted into the A&E department and ran up to the receptionist. ‘I’m here for Nina Banerjee. She’s got a sharp bob, probably a leather jacket, ethically Indian, brought in from the city centre.’

The receptionist wasn’t happy to see him. With tired eyes and a frown stricter than a prison warden, he said, ‘Only family back there. Are you her… husband?’

Robert wasn’t even sure his declaration to the police constables earlier of being Nina’s boyfriend was true. They’d spent a couple of passionate nights together, but apart from the case, they had barely talked.

‘Please. I’m her boyfriend.’

‘Do you have proof, sir?’ The man typed something into the computer on his desk. ‘I cannae tell you much otherwise.’

Robert dug into his wallet and pulled out the image he carried of Nina. ‘Please, please just tell me if the woman brought in with multiple injuries is her.Please. She’s missing, and I’m worried.’

‘You could call the police,’ the man muttered but glanced at the photograph. ‘That’s not the sort of photo a boyfriend has – more like what a stalker carries.’

Fuck! ‘Please, this is important. Please, tell me if this is her. I need to know she’s alive.’

The emotions from when he’d been told about Anne’s death – those he’d buried deep under a thick shell – broke free. But the quiver in his voice wasn’t for Anne; it was for Nina. He couldn’t lose her – not this time, not at all. He’d barely made it through Anne’s death. And Nina had come to mean so much to him. ‘Please.’

The receptionist huffed, that iron scowl melting just a wee bit. He took the image from Robert’s hand. ‘The woman they brought in was badly bruised. It’s difficult for me to say, as this image is clearly taken from a CCTV camera, but that bob is hard to mistake.’

Robert’s entire body sighed. The relief coursing through his body was so powerful, he nearly collapsed. She hadn’t been shot. ‘Oh thank God. Th-Thank you!’

The receptionist waved him away. ‘Sit there before the nurses need to help you. I’ll see what I can do.’

Robert did as he was asked. Settling on the hard chair, he waited. And waited, long after his arse had gone numb. The queue for A&E didn’t diminish, but at the same time, no one came to get him. The receptionist left for the night, without a word to Robert. Still, Robert sat there until:

‘Maybe I should arrest you. If your… rebound hadn’t butted her head in, I wouldn’t have had to make this trip to talk to her.’

---