The Police Surgeon's Rescue. Abigail Gordon

      CHAPTER ONE

      SO THIS is it, Helena thought as the taxi pulled away and she was left standing at the bottom of the drive surrounded by her luggage. ‘Home sweet home’.

      It looked decent enough, the small detached house in a suburban cul-de-sac, but it wasn’t the place where she’d been brought up. That had been in a town much farther north than this, in a pleasant house on a road not far from the noise and bustle of the city.

      Looking around her, she wondered what she was going to do in a place like this. She’d like to bet the folks around here were all in bed each night before ten. Maybe her dad was beginning to feel his age and that was why he’d moved, but he could at least have consulted her first. He’d known she wasn’t going to be away for ever.

      The door opened and he was there, smiling at her. Putting to one side her feeling of grievance, she ran up the drive and into his arms.

      He looked older and thinner, Helena thought as they carried her bags inside. He’d lost the robust jollity that had kept them going after they’d lost her mother, and even though she’d only just set foot in the place she had to ask, ‘Why did you move house, Dad? This is miles away from all the places I know. Why didn’t you tell me what you were planning? I couldn’t believe it when I got your letter. I know the old house was a bit big for the two of us after Mum died but…’

      There was no smile on his face now. It was more sombre than she’d ever seen it.

      ‘I’m going to put the kettle on, Helena,’ he said, ‘and when we’ve had a cup of tea I’ve got a story to tell you that will explain why I’ve done what I have. I’m afraid that you’re going to think this is a very poor homecoming.’

      ‘Fine,’ she told him, feeling better now that she’d got it off her chest and having no inkling that ‘fine’ was the last word she would think of to describe the situation once she’d heard what he had to say.

      Later, much later, as she lay in a strange bedroom, exhausted but sleepless after the long flight, she was trying to take in what she’d been told and amongst a jumble of emotions the one uppermost was fear.

      * * *

      As Blake Pemberton looked down on the body of the man lying on the smooth green turf of the golf course his eyes widened beneath raised brows. He’d seen plenty of dead bodies since he’d started working with the police in a medical capacity and the causes of death had varied. Natural causes, accidental and in some instances the victim had died in suspicious circumstances.

      But it wasn’t any of those factors that were causing surprise. For the first time ever he’d been called out to examine the body of someone he knew. It was the elderly man who’d moved into the house next door who was gazing upwards with sightless eyes.

      ‘Somebody walking their dog found him, not long ago,’ one of the policemen who’d been summoned to the scene told him, ‘and when we radioed back to the station they said to ask you to come out to examine him before we moved him. What do you think, Doctor? There’s no obvious signs of injury.’

      Blake had got over his surprise and was examining the body of his neighbour with swift expertise. Noting the froth on blue lips, the grimace of pain on the waxen features. The body was still faintly warm but there was no pulse or heartbeat. Getting to his feet, he told the constable, ‘I would think he suffered a massive heart attack. Even if help had been at hand I don’t think it would have made any difference.’

      As the policeman nodded his agreement Blake told him, ‘You don’t have to worry about his identity. He’s my next-door neighbour. Only moved in recently and was living on his own until yesterday when he was expecting his daughter home from Australia. So there’s sorrow for someone.

      ‘I don’t know if she’s actually arrived but if you like I’ll go and break the news to her, and if she’s not there I’ll put a note through the door asking her to contact me.’

      ‘Sure,’ the other man agreed. ‘I’ll leave it in your capable hands and we’ll get the poor fellow to the mortuary.’

      As he drove back home Blake wasn’t looking forward to passing on such sad tidings to the man’s unsuspecting daughter, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to break that kind of news to a member of the public, far from it. The good, the bad and the unthinkable were all part of the day-to-day routine of the GP.

      It was a quarter to eight in the morning and thankfully it was Sunday, otherwise he would be having to dash off to the surgery once the deed was done. The man must have gone for an early morning stroll and it had turned out to be his last.

      * * *

      Helena awoke to the ringing of the doorbell and for a moment she lay there, bewildered, wondering where she was, then it all came back. As the bell rang once more she still didn’t move waiting for her father to answer it, but it rang again and this time she swung herself out of bed and padded to the window.

      The caller had given up. He was walking down the drive with a purposeful step, a tall, dark-haired man, broad-shouldered, trim-hipped, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.

      She opened the window to call to him and then thought better of it. After what her father