I presumed Nash would still be in emergency, but they’d already admitted him. His room wasn’t hard to find: it was the one with a police officer standing guard. A handsome fellow, he was engaging in lively banter with a female nurse who appeared to be enjoying the company.
I identified myself to them both. The officer’s name was Auty. He was a local, not one of Wallace’s unsavoury crew. Vince had phoned to tell him I was coming. I glanced through the open door. Nash was in bed, shackled to the frame, semi-recumbent. His mouth was open, his eyes were closed, but his face, with its bruises and wounds, appeared strangely luminous in the morning light.
‘How’s he going?’ I asked the nurse.
‘He’s really been in the wars,’ she replied. ‘Hypothermia, a virus. Throw in a sprained ankle and an array of cuts and abrasions and you get the idea.’
‘And when he’s released?’ I asked Auty.
‘He’ll be taken straight down to the remand centre.’
I asked if I could have a minute or two alone with him, and they agreed. From what she’d seen of him, the nurse told me, he was a restless patient but there was nothing to suggest he was a risk of either fight or flight. He’d been given analgesic drugs, which would have sedated him. I went into the room and closed the door behind me.
His eyes opened as I stepped towards him.
I kissed him lightly.
‘Jess,’ he rasped.
‘How you doing?’
‘Been worse.’
‘The nurse just gave me a rundown of your condition. Good thing you came in to civilisation.’
His reply was little more than a whisper. ‘Ask me how civilised it is in a few days. What do we do now?’
I shrugged. ‘First we get you back onto your feet. I don’t suppose you’ve got a lawyer?’
‘I’m suspicious of people who’ve got their own lawyer.’
‘Fair enough, but we better find one. Hopefully you’ll get bail. Then we do our best to figure out what actually happened to Raph Cambric.’
He stared out the window with a hungry look in his eyes, as if he were searching for answers, or maybe a raptor to carry him off to some desert isle.
‘Why are you doing all this, Jess?’ he asked. ‘I imagine it’s putting your career at risk.’
‘My career’s always at risk.’
I took his hand and kissed it.
He still looked like a condemned man waiting for an overdue axe.
‘This may seem a little odd to somebody with a history like yours,’ I said. ‘Maybe it doesn’t fit in with the future you’ve imagined for yourself – but I like you, Nash. You better get used to it.’
He offered a wary smile in response, but seemed to be waiting for the catch. He was still waiting for it half an hour later, casting suspicious glances at the door and windows when I gave him a goodbye kiss and left.