One Shot Kill - Robert Muchamore Page 0,30

or alive?

Rosie tugged on the doorbell, but nobody answered. After a circuit of the house, she forced the same small side window she’d escaped through a few nights earlier. Her landing on the drawing-room floor was painful and she clutched a palm as she raced upstairs.

Edith was alive, but still unconscious. Some of her bruises had turned from red to grey, but the infected wounds down her leg looked worse. Her temperature was high and both ankles were puffed up.

Rosie sat at the bottom of the stairs rubbing her aching feet as Joseph’s buggy pulled up outside. He gave her a hug and apparently bore no grudge over the way she’d disappeared, or the fact that she’d broken into his house.

‘I half expected you not to be there when I woke,’ Joseph said. ‘You looked wary when my mother showed you the dossier.’

Rosie helped him carry baskets of freshly-pulled potatoes and carrots into the kitchen.

‘Edith looks much the same,’ Rosie said.

Joseph shook his head. ‘I’ve been trying to force feed her using a stomach tube, but she brings most of it straight back up. And if she’s not eating, she can only get weaker. The worst of the infection is in her legs. We’re close to the point where the only option will be to have a surgeon amputate them, but I doubt she’s strong enough to survive the operation.’

Rosie looked shocked. The thought of someone Edith’s age losing her legs was almost worse than her dying. ‘Could penicillin still help?’

Joseph looked excited as Rosie unclipped her case and took out six carefully-wrapped glass vials.

‘Miraculous,’ he shouted. ‘I’ve studied its effects in medical school, but I’ve never actually seen it. And this looks like enough for several patients. My mother has another comatose patient who picked up an infection after giving birth. Can we use some for her?’

‘As long as there’s enough for Edith,’ Rosie said.

‘Of course,’ Joseph said. ‘I’ll get my medical bag and prepare her first dose.’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Once Edith had been injected, Rosie began making soup with fresh veg, while Joseph went back out on the buggy with two vials of penicillin, trying to track down his mother.

After a day’s work Dr Blanc always rode out to eat an evening meal prepared by her son. She was complimentary about the soup, though in truth Rosie had done little but boil up vegetables, with salt and garlic as the only available sources of flavour.

Mother and son were both pleased to hear that the intelligence was valuable. And since they both knew who Rosie was there seemed little point hiding her next objective from them.

‘I’ve brought a small camera,’ Rosie explained. ‘I need to get out to the bunker and take photographs. I’ll also need to conduct longer term surveillance: watching who arrives, who leaves, what equipment goes in and out.’

‘It might be risky going into the forest with a camera and no clear motive for being there,’ Joseph said. ‘I suppose you might be OK at night.’

Rosie shook her head. ‘I’ll need good light for photographs.’

‘Tricky,’ Joseph said, ‘although boys have always played in the forest. I have no idea how near to the bunker you can get, but if it’s well guarded I’d bet some of the local boys would have tales of being kicked out.’

Dr Blanc nodded in agreement. ‘Joseph was too well fed to hunt as a boy, but my brothers hunted in those woods back in the 1900s. Most families are short of food right now, so I’m certain trapping and hunting are popular.’

‘Can you think of any boys you might speak to?’ Rosie asked.

‘Perhaps,’ Dr Blanc said. ‘But I’m seen as an authority figure. They’d probably think they were in trouble and deny everything.’

Rosie nodded. ‘And it’s not right for you to go around asking questions. If something happened at the bunker and the Germans began an investigation, any interest you’ve shown might create problems for you.’

‘How about your little mate who brought you to us in the first place?’ Joseph asked.

Rosie smiled. ‘Justin,’ she said brightly, feeling slightly stupid that this idea hadn’t already occurred to her. ‘He’s bright and he already took a great risk to help me. I’ll go and find him in the morning.’

*

Low sun punched through the attic window as Rosie rubbed her eyes and picked up the chamber pot under her bed. As her bare feet made the first-floor landing boards creak she heard a soothing version of Joseph’s voice coming out of Edith’s room.

‘Hello?’ Rosie said curiously,