Hired: GP and Wife / The Playboy Doctor's Surprise Proposal (14 page)

Cold terror gripped Terry’s chest like a band forcing the air out of her lungs, but she looked back at him steadily, her voice coming out strongly, scornfully, belying the fear she felt.

‘I’ve nothing to say to you, Max, except this—you as good as murdered my father and you deserve to be in jail. I’ve informed the police about your horrible note.’

Max frowned, narrowing his eyes. ‘You shouldn’t have contacted the police, darling, not a clever thing to do. That note was between me and you, just to warn you that I need the money—when we’ve had our little talk.’

He took her arm and pulled her with him. ‘I know where you’re staying. I watched you take your cases to that B and B yesterday. Now you’re going to come on a little holiday with me.’

Terry hung back, looking at him defiantly and telling herself what an insignificant-looking man he was. ‘You can’t make me. Anything you’ve got to say to me you can say it here and now!’

He came closer to her his lips a thin line. ‘You know what I want. I need money to get away from here, start a new life.’

‘I’ve no money on me…I can’t arrange it so quickly,’ Terry started to say.

He scowled. ‘I told you to get some. I’ll take you to a bank on the mainland and you can get some out—you doctors are well paid.’

By this time Max had pulled her round the corner and towards an old blue car just past the bed and breakfast place.

‘And how will you make me do what you want, Max?’ asked Terry coldly.

Max put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a handgun, at the same time pulling her towards him in what looked like an embrace to any passer-by. ‘Perhaps this will persuade you, darling. Any nonsense and I won’t hesitate to use it on you…or on anyone in our way.’

He meant it, thought Terry, her body shaking as she felt the muzzle of the gun press into her ribs. Max continued to hold her close to him.

‘Before we do anything else I need some of your professional expertise, sweetheart. Harry’s met with a little accident and I want your help in getting him right.’

‘What’s happened to him?’

‘He got a bullet wound through his leg from an…acquaintance. The wound looks a bit black.’

Terry’s mind raced—anything to buy time that might allow her to ring the police. ‘I’ll need to get my medical bag—it’s at the B and B. We’ll have to pick it up—I can’t do anything without that.’

Max frowned. ‘I thought you were a doctor—why do you need equipment?’

‘If he’s got any infection, he’ll need antibiotics. There’s penicillin in the bag…I may need tweezers to get the bullet out.’

Max pondered, biting his lip. ‘OK,’ he said at last. ‘But you do what I say—we’re lovers, understand?’ Then with a cruel smile. ‘Quite like old times, eh? Keep close to me and don’t say anything you shouldn’t.’

It took only a few minutes to get the medical bag and Terry’s case. Mrs Bedowes, the owner of the B and B seemed unconcerned that Terry was checking out, and soon Max was pulling her back to his car, hugging her close to him. Harry was sitting in the back seat, lolling back and looking ashen, and a stain of blood had spread across his trouser leg. Terry was shoved in beside him and Max gave the gun to Harry.

‘Keep that pointing towards her,’ Max said. ‘Don’t worry, Harry, it’s plain sailing so far. She’ll fix up that leg of yours when we’ve got out of here.’

‘It looks as if he’s lost a lot of blood,’ said Terry. ‘I’ll have to look at the wound pretty soon before he passes out.’

‘Well, you’re not looking at it in the village. We’ll go into the hills first.’

Terry lay back in the car seat, her eyes closed. She knew it wasn’t just money they wanted, or for her to look at Harry’s wound—they needed to silence her for ever. She was, after all, the only witness who had seen the robbery, who knew for sure it was Max and Harry that had robbed the bank and caused her father’s death.

The car stopped and she opened her eyes and saw that they’d parked the vehicle in a little copse before Atholl’s cottage: it couldn’t be seen from the road.

‘Come on, darling, out you get.’

Terry was bewildered. ‘Why have you stopped here?’

‘For you to attend to Harry, of course. We know it’s Dr Brodie’s place, but I’ve been monitoring him. Tonight he’s going to the mainland to see his uncle, and he won’t be back for hours. Plenty of time for you to do the doctor bit for Harry and for us to have a coffee before we get going again.’

‘I can’t think why you’re bothering with Harry—you didn’t show such compassion for my father when you left him dying at the bank.’

Max grinned. ‘Harry’s my brother—the only person in the world I can trust.’

There were sounds of a car coming up the road behind them. Terry couldn’t move her arms as they marched her along, but she threw back her head and screamed as loudly as she could. The car swept past, ignoring them.

Max pulled to a halt and turned Terry round towards him, drew back his hand and slapped her hard across the face, the signet ring he had on his little finger catching her cheek and slitting it open.

‘Don’t try that again. The next time it’ll be more painful,’ he snarled.

Terry sucked in her breath, her eyes stinging with tears at the pain, feeling blood oozing down her cheek. They pulled her up the path. Easy enough to kick the door open, and then throw her inside. Shona bounded towards her, barking delightedly and jumping up at her.

‘Get that animal out of here,’ growled Max to Harry. ‘I don’t like dogs.’

Harry gave Shona a casual kick out of the door and the dog yelped loudly, then turned round and snapped at the man’s shoes. Another kick and poor Shona was out on the path and the door was slammed shut.

‘How could you?’ Terry screamed at Harry. ‘What’s the poor dog ever done to you?’

‘Be quiet!’ snapped Max. ‘Sit down on that sofa.’ Terry sat down, trying to stop her limbs from trembling. She was damned if she’d show these men how terrified she was. At least they’d be gone by the time Atholl returned from seeing his uncle and he wouldn’t be involved.

Then suddenly they heard the uneven sound of a motorbike coming up the road and stuttering to a halt in front of the cottage.

‘Who the hell’s that?’ Harry turned a white, frightened face towards the door.

Max pulled Terry in front of him and held the gun against her head. ‘Whoever it is, I won’t give them the chance to get away.’

Terry looked in terror towards the door. She could hear Shona barking joyfully—it had to be Atholl returning early. Any minute he’d come in—and then what? They all waited, frozen, hardly breathing. A few minutes passed—still no sound except distant traffic coming up the road towards them.

‘Where the hell is he?’ muttered Harry uneasily. ‘Perhaps he’s taken the dog for a bleedin’ walk.’

‘Shut up!’ snarled Max, tiptoeing to the window and peering out of the corner. ‘He’s not there. I think you’re right, Harry, he’s taken—’

There was a crash and the door from the kitchen burst open behind them. The men spun round and Atholl said, ‘What the hell’s going on?’

His gaze took in the scene of Terry with Max holding a gun to her head, and the prone body of Harry lying across the sofa with a large wound on his leg.

He sucked in his breath. ‘Good God, Terry…’ He turned to the two men and said in a low, harsh voice, ‘What the hell have you done to Dr Younger?’

Max laughed unpleasantly. ‘Dr Younger? You’ve been misinformed, my friend. Allow me to introduce Dr Theresa Masterson.’

Atholl frowned and made to come towards Terry. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, but put that bloody gun down.’

Max pressed his gun more firmly against Terry’s head and said unsmilingly, ‘Don’t come any nearer, or else your colleague will get hurt. If you co-operate, we’ll let her go, eventually.’

Atholl stood stock still, his blue eyes bright with fury, a muscle working in his cheek. ‘You bastards…’

Max laughed, a coarse, cruel laugh. ‘She knows a little too much about us, don’t you, darling? We need to make a new life and we don’t want her putting a spoke in our plans. A little money to help us get away would be a good start.’

‘I see.’Atholl stepped back, looking at the men assessingly. Then he said in a voice that was dangerously cool and unflurried, ‘And how much were you thinking of?’

‘We were thinking of ten thousand, but now you’ve appeared on the scene we might be tempted to take more…’

Terry watched Atholl with anguished eyes. He had been dragged into this and it had been her fault for not leaving the moment she’d known she’d been discovered. He looked so cool, so relaxed, as if there was nothing unusual about a gangster waving a gun in front of him.

Then several things happened at once. An explosion of sound. Both doors suddenly crashed open and several uniformed, shouting policemen burst into the room. Almost before they’d come in Atholl leapt at Max in the split second the man’s attention had been diverted and punched him to the floor, forcing the gun out of his grip. Max lay there stunned for a minute, having hit his head hard on the fireplace surround, and was leapt on by one of the policemen. Harry was being held down on the floor between two policemen, his wrists handcuffed.

A large policeman helped to haul Atholl up from the floor where the force of the punch he’d given Max had landed him.

‘We told you not to go in, Dr Brodie. You could have ruined the whole operation,’ he growled. ‘It was a risky thing to do…both of you could have been killed.’

Atholl looked slightly abashed. ‘I couldn’t wait,’ he said simply. ‘You weren’t going to go in for ten minutes. God knows what could have happened in that time.’

‘I’ll be putting a report in,’ grumbled the officer.

Atholl ignored the man and strode over to Terry, who was watching the scene with a mixture of bewilderment and relief. He sat on the sofa and put his arms round her. ‘My darling, what’s been going on?’ he asked gently, touching her bruised and bleeding face delicately. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were being threatened before? I was actually on my way to try and find you, and stopped off here to pick up my car. I was just about to open the door when a pack of policeman burst out of the bushes—apparently they’ve been shadowing you, hoping you’d lead them to these two brutes.’

Terry closed her eyes and big tears squeezed themselves out and rolled down her cheeks. ‘I couldn’t,’ she whispered. ‘I was told not to say anything about what happened in London. I’m so sorry, Atholl. I didn’t think they’d find me here. I thought I was safe…and I didn’t want you involved when—’

‘It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, sweetheart,’ he murmured, cradling her head on his shoulder and rocking her backwards and forwards as one would a frightened child. ‘All that matters is your safety. It’s all behind you now.’

One of the policemen gave a polite cough. ‘Excuse me, sir, we’re taking these men away now. Er…perhaps when Dr Younger’s had time to recover a little, you’d both come down to the station. I believe the Met will be sending up an officer to complete all the enquiries.’

As Max was led out he turned round to look at Terry. ‘Didn’t take long to find yourself someone new, did it, sweetheart?’ he said bitterly.

The house seemed very quiet when all the policemen had gone, escorting Max and Harry to a police van. For several minutes Atholl remained holding Terry, neither of them speaking, then he turned her face toward him, bending his forehead to hers.

‘And I thought you and that bloody man had got together again, and that was the reason you’d finished things between us,’ he said softly. ‘That was why I came roaring after you, to make you tell me the truth, force you to admit that you still loved him.’

‘How wrong you were,’ said Terry wanly. She looked at Atholl with tears in her eyes. ‘I couldn’t tell you the truth because I loved you so much. I didn’t want you to be involved. I’d been told it would be complete folly to reveal my background.’

Atholl took her hands in his. ‘I can make an educated guess that you’ve been given a new identity—some sort of police witness protection?’

Terry nodded. ‘It was all taken out of my hands really. Even the BMA was informed about my new name and the records changed. I was to get another job far from London through the agency you used. You see,’ she added sadly, ‘I thought Max really loved me. I was wrong. He wanted to get in with my father, gather information discreetly about the bank my father worked for, the times of cash deliveries—things like that.’

‘Max seemed quite well spoken and educated—not the kind to want to rob a bank,’ observed Atholl.

‘He and his brother were gamblers—they needed plenty of money to pay their debts and fund their lifestyle.’

‘But surely your father was very discreet about anything to do with the bank?’

‘My father was quite a lonely man after Mum died. Over a few months he came to adore Max. They played golf together, Max took him racing, we all went to the theatre. Dad regarded him as the son he’d never had. Dad was thrilled I was going out with such a seemingly charismatic and successful man.’

Atholl nodded. ‘He built up a rapport with your father, I’m sure, and your father would trust him.’

‘Exactly. Max had led us to believe that he was a producer and a writer for a television company and my father was fascinated by the media world. After a while Max told him he had an idea for a play about—would you believe?—a gang of bank robbers. He asked my gullible father to help him write it. Of course, Dad was intensely flattered and excited—it gave him a new lease on life.’

‘And after that I guess it was easy to extract information about bank practices regarding security, times of cash deliveries, and so,’ said Atholl grimly.

Terry sighed. ‘Dad was an innocent—and so was I, of course. Max manipulated my father so that he never realised he was being indiscreet.’

‘But why were you on witness protection?’ asked Atholl.

Terry took another long sip of her whisky, draining the glass, then said grimly, ‘I was at the bank when the raid took place. I’d gone after work to meet my father, which I often did. We were going to have a meal out together. I waited by the side door I knew my father would use. I…I remember there was no one around, but a car with its engine running was parked at the other side of the street…’