‘How long has he been in this condition?’ Dr Plank asked as he listened to Samson’s chest.
The poor creature was on a drip providing him with electrolytes and a substance that should induce him to vomit in a few minutes’ time. Ever since the vet had heaved the husky onto the treatment table with Emma’s help, Samson had barely been conscious. Now and again he shuddered as he exhaled, but that was the only sign of life.
‘How long? Well, I, I think…’ Emma’s voice was trembling as badly as her knees.
She felt as if she’d run for her life, rather than merely having gone three hundred metres around the corner. In her mind, three hundred metres equated to a marathon.
My first time outside alone, and with a dog as close to death as I am to insanity.
Contemplating her feat in the harsh light of the halogen lamp that hovered above Samson, she could scarcely believe that she’d made it. Made it here, to the broad, end-of-terrace house with its cream façade and green shutters. The garage had been converted into a waiting room years ago. Fortunately Emma didn’t have to spend too much time there. With the exception of a small girl, who’d sat crying with a cat basket on her lap, she was the only patient. And because of the severity of Samson’s symptoms she’d been shown in immediately.
‘I’m not sure. He’s been droopy since this morning,’ Emma finally managed to complete her sentence. ‘I think it started around eleven.’
The vet grunted and Emma couldn’t tell if it was a grunt of satisfaction or concern.
He’d put on a bit of weight since she’d last seen him, but that was a while ago now, in the time before, at the neighbourhood party organised every year by the residents’ association. The freshly starched apron was a little tight around the tummy of the 1.90-metre man. He’d developed a slight double chin and fuller cheeks, which made him appear more affable than before. Now Plank resembled a large teddy bear with light-brown, unkempt hair, a broad nose and melancholic button eyes.
‘Did he eat anything unusual?’
Emma felt nervously for the headscarf covering her short hair. If Plank was wondering why she hadn’t taken it off he wasn’t letting it show.
‘Yes, I mean, no. You know Salim, don’t you?’
‘Our delivery man?’
‘He gave Samson a dog biscuit, he always gives him one.’
‘Hmm.’
Plank was wearing latex medical gloves, similar to those that had stroked her head. Back in the darkness of the hotel room.
‘What’s going to happen now?’ she asked the vet, one hand on Samson’s chest, gazing at a white, glass-front cabinet, her eyes fixed on packets of gauze bandages and surgical collars as if they were as captivating as a work of art.
‘We’re going to have to wait to begin with,’ Plank replied, checking the drip with a critical eye. He pointed to the drain of the table. ‘We’re treating him on spec; there are lots of signs that he’s been poisoned. As soon as he’s been sick we’ll give him some charcoal to bind any toxins. My assistant is just calling the laboratory courier. Once that’s done we’ll hook Samson up to a urinary catheter to prevent the toxin from being reabsorbed by the bladder wall. Then, of course, there’s the usual cocktail of medicines.’
Emma nodded. The same procedure as for humans.
‘Everything on spec until we have the haemogram.’
‘Could it be anything else apart from poisoning?’
Plank managed to nod and shrug at the same time. ‘Unlikely. We’ll know in more detail when the lab results are back.’
He patted the plaster covering the injection site on Samson’s hind leg, from where he’d taken the blood.
‘I’ve got good contacts at the veterinary clinic in Düppel, I’ll have the results tomorrow morning at the latest.’
Emma noticed that her eyes were filling with tears. She couldn’t say whether this was due to exhaustion or fear that it might be too late and the poison had already worked its way irreparably through Samson’s body.
‘The best would be if you left him here under observation for the next twenty-four hours, Frau Stein.’
Plank paused and accidentally brushed her hand briefly as the two of them stroked Samson’s head together. ‘He’s better off here than at home.’ He followed this up with a baffling question.
‘Talking of home. Is your basement dry again?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘The water that got in last month. The same thing happened here once. It was ages before we could get rid of the fan heaters. Dearie, dearie me, I thought, poor old Frau Stein. I mean, first your illness and then something like that. Nobody needs that. Your husband told me all about the palaver with the burst pipes.’
‘Philipp?’
The door to the treatment room opened and a plump elderly woman in a nurse’s coat entered. She gave Emma a cheery smile as she walked over to the medicine cabinet in her squeaky Birkenstock sandals, presumably to get everything ready for Samson’s treatment.
Plank kept talking regardless.
‘I met him in town by chance. It must have been four weeks ago pretty much to the day. A freaky coincidence. I was on call and that evening I had to go to a hotel, the chihuahua, do you remember?’ he said to the nurse, who nodded wearily.
Plank grinned, shaking his head. ‘An American woman’s plaything had stepped on a piece of glass. As I left I saw your husband sitting in the lobby.’ As Emma listened to the vet’s words a wave of heat surged against her ribcage from the inside.
‘My husband? In the lobby?’ she repeated as if in a trance.
‘Yes. Well, well, I thought, I wonder what Herr Stein’s doing here. Then I saw the two drinks on the table and when I said hello he told me that the two of you were having to spend the night here until the worst was over.’
There was a ring at the door and Plank’s assistant returned to the reception.
‘Not that I was being nosy, mind, or thinking he was up to something, but afterwards I thought one could easily have drawn the wrong conclusions. I mean, who sleeps in a hotel in their own town, if…’
‘… they haven’t got the builders in?’ Emma completed his sentence flatly.
Converting the nursery.
Which will never be used.
Or repairing water damage.
Which never happened.
‘Well, I hope the pumps are out and your floor is dry again. Frau Stein?’
Emma removed her clenched fist from Samson’s coat, realising that she must have been gaping at Plank for quite a while with an expressionless face. Without the sedative she would have probably screamed the place down, but the diazepam had deadened her emotions.
‘Is everything okay with you?’
She forced a smile. ‘Yes, everything’s fine. I’m just a bit out of sorts because of Samson.’
‘I understand,’ Plank said, softly stroking her hand. ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s in the best hands. And take a card with my mobile number from reception. If you have any questions you can call me at any time.’
Emma nodded. ‘I’ve got one question already,’ she said, on her way out.
‘Go ahead.’
‘The hotel.’
‘Yes?’
‘Where you bumped into my husband. Do you remember the name?’