The Surgeon's Blade Read online

  The Surgeon’s Blade

  By Faith Mortimer

  Also by Faith Mortimer:

  “The Crossing” – A Voyage of High Adventure, Action and Romance

  across Two Generations

  “The Assassins’ Village” – A Classic Murder Mystery in a Cyprus Village

  (featuring Diana Rivers Novelist & Amateur Sleuth)

  “Children of the Plantation” – A Diana Rivers Mystery set in Malaysia

  (all available as a paperback or eBook from Amazon)

  “The Bamboo Mirror” An Anthology of Short Mysteries introducing Diana Rivers

  (now available as an eBook)

  About the author:

  Faith Mortimer was born in Manchester and educated in Singapore, Malaya and Hampshire, England. She qualified as a Registered nurse and after some years changed careers to oversee a number of travel and sport related companies.

  In 2005, Faith decided to read for a science degree with The Open University. She believes that the dedication and stamina needed to sit for a degree gave her the confidence to finish writing her first novel. January 2009 saw the publication of, “The Crossing”. This novel is based on a true incident and Faith thoroughly enjoyed the six months or so research that went into the book and the 18 months writing and editing.

  In spring 2011 Faith published her second novel, “The Assassins' Village”, a murder mystery set in the Troodos Mountains of Cyprus where she spends the majority of her time. This 93,000 word novel was posted on the Harper Collins/Authonomy site and out of over 8000 books was chosen in November 2010 to be the Number 1 book. (Excerpt from the review can be found under Faith’s Amazon author page). Available in paperback and eBook.

  Summer 2011, “Children of The Plantation” was published. This is the second in the bestselling Diana Rivers’s mystery series. This time the story is set in exotic Malaysia. “Children of The Plantation” was Amazon’s number 1 in Movers and Shakers for 48 hours during October 2011

  You can get in touch with Faith via her website, Facebook, and twitter.

  www.faithmortimerauthor.com

  www.facebook.com/FaithMortimer.Author

  http://twitter.com/FaithMortimer

  The Surgeon’s Blade

  Copyright © Faith Mortimer 2012

  The right of Faith Mortimer to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All Rights Reserved

  No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents originate from the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Published in 2012

  by Topsails Charter, Southampton

  Acknowledgements

  A Big Thank You to my editor Catherine and to my husband Chris for their invaluable assistance and patient support.

  The Surgeon’s Blade

  Prologue

  Playing this game was a major enjoyment. It had been played many times before, and this time, it was proving even more of a thrill.

  The watcher spotted her immediately. She was seated at a table for two, and from the number of times she had glanced at her watch, it was obvious she had been stood up by her date. The watcher was cautious by nature and covertly observed the woman from a chosen seat which was half-hidden in the shadows behind a potted palm. She was one of those women in their thirties who looked attractive in a quiet, unassuming way and could have been stunning if she had spent more time over her hairstyle and make-up. Her dress was an off-the-rail model, most probably from one of the departmental stores and in a different colour would have enhanced her appeal. Unfortunately, the dull fabric did nothing for her hair and skin colouring.

  The watcher had seen her many times around the hospital and knew who she was. She came across as confident and sure of herself as far as her work was concerned.

  She now sat alone and forlorn, casting wistful glances at those couples who sat with bent heads sharing a whisper and promise of the night to come. Minutes later, she answered a call on her mobile phone with nervous girlish pleasure, but her face paled in distress as she replaced it into her evening bag. The watcher knew instantly how easy it was going to be and smiling coldly, raised a glass with a slight movement in her direction and offered a silent toast.

  Why waste time yearning over a date that would never show when your prayers have been answered, dearest girl, the watcher demanded silently. From now on, you’re mine, all mine.

  Chapter 1

  Three o’clock. The dead hour. It was the rain lashing against the window that woke Libby. Cursing under her breath, she glanced at her clock on the bedside cabinet and contemplated the day ahead: nearly three-thirty. She must be mad! At the end of June, the weather really should be fine. ‘Flaming June’, they called it. Well, there hadn’t been too much flaming lately. This was the fourth day in a row of seemingly endless downpours. Dratted weather! Well, she was committed to today’s race, and there was nothing she could do but put on a smiling face.

  Less than an hour later, showered and dressed, Libby had a quick breakfast of toast and tea and headed for the door. Her cat followed her and meowed loudly as Libby put on her jacket. The fluffy pale ginger cat was obviously thinking her mistress was quite mad, not only for disturbing her slumber at this untimely hour, but for leaving the flat on such a cold and wet day. She sat on the rug looking quite put out.

  “Okay, Rommie, I’ll see you tonight. Don’t fret. The automatic feeder is primed to open for your tea, and I’ve left you plenty of biscuits in the meantime. If you feel you can bring yourself to use the cat flap, please do, because I don’t want any little accidents before I return.”

  Libby reached down and gave Rommie a final stroke, thinking the cat had the right idea. The morning so far looked awful. She had a quick look round her flat, mentally going through what she would need for the day: wet weather gear, life jacket, and sailing gloves. She noticed the framed degree certificate upon the living room wall. ‘Olivia Hunter, registered nurse.’ It was a long time since she’d been called Olivia; not since her parents had been killed. With a shrug, she picked up her bag and locked the door behind her.

  Despite the foul weather, she was excited. Being chosen as part of the crew on a fast yacht for the Isle of Wight’s prestigious ‘Round the Island Race’ had a certain cachet, and she had been delighted when Nigel had chosen her. It was Libby’s first major sailing event, and Nigel’s reputation as a first-class skipper was well known in the yachting fraternity.

  Libby unlocked the door to her Mini and threw her bag down onto the passenger seat as the rain splattered against the hood of her jacket. She had promised to pick up Jem, another crew member, before going to the marina where ‘Tourbillon’ was moored. Jem, like her, was in his late thirties and worked in the Southampton General Hospital and loved sailing.

  Jem was a good friend to Libby and had been instrumental in helping her get the post of junior sister on the general surgery ward. He had been there ever since he had first qualified, whereas Libby had come down from London, looking for a place nearer the sea to work. She had met him on a course in London some years back, and on their first introduction, they had hit it off. Over the past few years, six-foot-four Jem, muscle-bound and fun-loving, had become her biggest friend and confidant.

  Libby parked her mini outside the house Jem shared with his partner, and not wishing to antagonise the neighbours by hooting at an early hour, she ran the short distance up the flooded garden path to his door. The door opened at Libby’s knock, and Jem ushered her inside.

 
“I’ll be ready in a jiffy. I’ve just been listening to the national news on the telly. Hang on, I’ll turn it off.” Jem walked into the living room and crossed over to the television. “It sounds like there really is a dangerous weirdo stalking nurses in London. Another nurse was assaulted during the night at St Thomas’s Hospital. Very few details have been released by the police though: only that she’s being treated for shock.” Shrugging on his waterproof jacket, he picked up a bag lying near the door and gestured to Libby to precede him.

  She paused in the doorway. “That’s awful. Isn’t that the third one now?”

  He nodded. “Fourth, if you include that girl who was raped after accepting a drink from a stranger in that Southwark pub. What was it called? I think it was the Golden Ram or something like that. Of course as that was a sexual attack it might have come from an entirely different person. But all these assaults are now really serious.”

  “They’re awful. I’d forgotten that girl. She wasn’t a nurse though, was she?”

  “No, but she’s a radiographer from the same hospital. The police haven’t said for certain whether they think it’s the same attacker. And if you add these girls to the two who went missing in the last year or so, then London has a big problem on its hands. Come on, we’d better run for it.”

  Libby led the way as she pelted back down the path, aiming her remote ignition key at her Mini with Jem close on her heels.

  “Blimey! What a day,” he said, squeezing his long legs into her car. “Makes you wonder if it’ll be worth it.”

  “It’ll be worth it just to see the look on Sebastian Carr’s face when we overtake him at the Needles.”

  Jem gave a chortle of laughter. “You really don’t like him, do you?”

  “No. He’s too self-centred and full of it for my liking.”

  “And what about our mysterious skipper, Nigel, then? He’s from the same mould, same university and medical school. I noticed he’s been paying you lots of furtive attention lately when he thinks no one’s watching.”

  Something in his dry tone of voice caused Libby to take her attention off the road to look at him. She knew she had given herself away when she felt her cheeks flame.

  “I am right, am I not?” he said gently, giving her a little pat on the knee.

  “Yes.” She sighed. Jem always guessed when she was seeing someone new, and she had hoped to keep Nigel secret for a tad longer. Nigel had been quite adamant over that. How on earth did Jem do it?

  “So what’s he like? I know most people think he’s the proverbial enigmatic, tall, dark-haired, and good-looking male with wads of cash, but what’s he really like under all that expensive designer gear? I bet he’s married.”

  Libby gave a smile, as she remembered the times they had been together recently. Nigel had been very attentive. She thought work and pleasure rarely mixed and despite her best intentions not to get too involved, she eventually succumbed to going out with him.

  “He’s nice. I know he’s a brilliant gynaecological surgeon and apparently can be a bit overbearing in theatre. But outside work he has a good sense of humour, and he treats me well.”

  “Aha. And?”

  “And nothing. Stop it, Jem. That’s all you’re getting out of me.” She swerved to avoid a cyclist wobbling dangerously in the nearside gutter. “We’ve been out together a few times during the last month, that’s all, and for God’s sake please don’t tell anyone.”

  “Why ever not? Is Mr St John married then? He’s a bit of a dark horse, if you ask me, I’m not sure I trust him.”

  “No one is asking you to, Jem. But as you asked, and I know you’ll never give me any peace, I’ll tell you. He was married and is now separated. He and his wife live apart. And as for keeping it quiet, just honour his request, okay?”

  There was a short silence as Jem digested this titbit of news, giving her the briefest of nods. “I was right then.” He eventually spoke.

  “Right about what?”

  ‘Him being married. They’re all the same, these big-shot surgeons. He’s been here…what, less than a year, and all the single female staff are dying to get their hands on him and about half the married ones too. I wonder what attracts them. He’s certainly not my type.”

  She gave a laugh. “Jem, he’s a nice man. Underneath his obvious good connections and money, he wants a normal life just like you and me.”

  Jem gave her a hurt look as if to say, “Are you being funny?” and turned on the radio. They listened in silence as the newscaster finished his report and changed topics to the weather.

  “Well, that sounds a bit more hopeful. ‘Becoming sunny and drier before mid-morning, with fresh south-westerly winds up to 20 knots’. We should have a cracking sail once we get out south of the island.” He rubbed his hands with glee. “Can’t wait.”

  Libby returned his smile, glad to be off the topic of Nigel. She knew Jem would try keeping her secret safe, but at the same time, she realised he was only human and could easily forget. Juicy gossip sped like wildfire around the hospital, and she didn’t want to be the subject.

  He was right though. Nigel was everything he had said and more. Libby knew about his marriage to Stella. He had been quite open during their second date together, telling her they had married when they were still at medical school and how they had been far too young.

  ~~~~~

  “We should have listened to our parents,” he had said. “They urged us to wait until we’d qualified, but like most students we knew best. After we left med school and channelled our time and attention into our chosen career paths, we found we had no time left for each other. Of course, we still had the common ground of medicine to share, but apart from that, there was nothing else. We’d grown up and grown apart from each other. I’m surprised we stayed together as long as we did. It was most probably a mix of things: money, not upsetting our families, apathy, and I suppose convenience. It is often easier to do nothing. We’re still on remarkably good terms and see each other whenever she comes over from the States.”

  Libby nodded, playing with the stem of her wine glass as he explained. If anything, she was a bit surprised at his openness.

  “Were there…did you have any children together?”

  “Thankfully, no. Children would have made everything much more complicated. Stella wasn’t keen once we’d passed our final exams. She was eager to make her name as a psychiatrist, and she’s doing just that in New York and London. Children were way down the list,” he said, giving her a grin which made him look younger, boyish even. “No ties there either.”

  Libby smiled. “She’s very clever and a wonderful speaker. I attended a few of her lectures when I was working in London. She certainly knows how to hold an audience, and her voice is captivating with an almost hypnotic effect on the listener.”

  Pushing back his shirtsleeve, Nigel glanced at his watch, and Libby caught sight of a tattoo on his wrist. She recognised it as Caduceus, the medical symbol or the Physician's Staff tattoo. Nigel caught her look and smiled. “I know. I abhor tattoos too, but Stella made me have it done while we were still students. It was bloody painful too. Do you know the Caduceus derives from the Greek 'karykeion', meaning 'staff of the herald’? It was the symbol of the power to harm or to heal. It appears in images of the ancient Egyptian god of wisdom, Thoth, as a magic rod with twin snakes. I’ve seen other variations showing a staff entwined with twin serpents, topped with a pair of wings or a winged sun and no snakes. Originally, those twin snakes may have been ribbons attached to the wings, eventually evolving into serpents. Interesting, eh?”

  “I know what it represents, but not the full explanation.”

  “Have you finished? Would you like to come back to my place for a nightcap?”

  Libby weighed the pros and cons of spending more time in his company. It was a tempting thought to go and see where he lived and how he spent his free time. It was only their second date, and she did have to work tomorrow. Spending time back at his place could w
ell lead to things being misunderstood or getting out of control, and that was the last thing she wanted. She considered herself fairly broad-minded. She wasn’t a prude but neither was she ‘easy’.

  She shook her head and gave him a smile, replying. “No thanks. Not tonight, if you don’t mind. I have an early start tomorrow. Lisa, Sister Williams, is off, and I’m in charge. We have a full theatre list, so it’s bound to be frantic.”

  Nigel gave her a rueful look as he handed the waiter his credit card. “We’ll make it next time then. My apartment has a splendid view of Southampton Water. It looks very romantic lit up at night.”

  Nigel drove her home and didn’t put pressure on her to let him in. He escorted her to her door and, after a chaste kiss, asked to see her again over the weekend. He suggested going for a sail on his yacht, just the two of them, and thrilled with the idea of being on a sailing boat once more, Libby happily agreed.