name – Ana; her place of birth – Ruin, in southern Turkey.
Ruin again.
His eyes flicked back to the photograph, her sharp-cheeked, almond-eyed face framed by long dark silky hair with a kink in it like ripples over dark water. He could see by the side of the file that there was another photograph further down, just a scroll and mouse click away.
He thought of all the other final images he’d seen, all tragic in their own way but nothing compared to what this would be. There would be an autopsy report too most likely, depending on how she had died. He wasn’t sure he could face either. But he had to. He had to know.
He clicked on the scroll button to bring up the final photograph.
Shepherd had been so prepared and braced for something else that it took him a few moments to register what he was looking at. It was a picture of Melisa smiling, her personality fully evident here in a way it had not been within the stiff pose of the passport photograph. It was attached to a scanned copy of a medical registration document showing that Melisa Ana Erroll had qualified as a midwife and was licensed to practice for an international aid organization called Ortus. The document was simply to register the fact in the United States and qualify her for the company insurance.
He clicked on the scroll bar again but there were no more pictures. He switched back to the file and flicked through to the last page where the autopsy report or death certificate would have been. Nothing – just the insurance paperwork that corresponded with the photograph.
He laughed and cried at the same time, a sob of pure relief as he realized what had happened. The MPD search must have finished trawling through the death registers and moved on to the live files linked to the database. And then it had found her.
His Melisa.
Alive.
67
Gabriel woke slowly as though rising up through thick, warm liquid.
He became aware of the sounds of the room, the blip of the monitors, the chink of glass on glass, the shuffle of booted feet across the stone floor. He lay still for a while, feeling he was gradually materializing in the room, atom by atom. He opened his eyes and saw a bluish green light washing over the arched ceiling of the cave. He turned his head and saw the peacock window, the low evening sun lighting it up from behind.
‘Ah, welcome back.’ Athanasius moved across his field of vision, blocking the light from the window. Gabriel tried to sit up but found that he could not. ‘I’m afraid the doctor thought it best to restrain you again, for your own protection. That’s the bad news. The good news is –’ He carefully held up the smartphone Gabriel had left him. There were two wires sticking out of the bottom, stripped from the end of a USB cable that wound down to the laptop which was resting on a table by Gabriel’s bed. Athanasius touched the screen of the phone and it lit up.
Gabriel smiled. ‘You did that?’
‘I did.’ Another man stepped into view from the end of the bed. He was clean-shaven beneath his surgical mask, and wore the dark surplice of a priest.
‘This is Father Thomas,’ Athanasius explained, ‘chief architect of all the modern improvements within the mountain and someone who knows more about electronics than I could ever hope to.’
‘It was quite simple really,’ Thomas said, taking the phone from Athanasius. ‘Just a question of reverse engineering the phone and working out which of the contacts in the docking slot connected to the battery. It’s been on charge for almost an hour now.’
‘How long have I been out?’
‘About three hours,’ Athanasius replied. ‘Dr Kaplan said it was a natural reaction after what your body’s been through. They got enough blood though, so they’ve been running tests all the while you’ve been asleep.’
‘Great. Do you want to loosen my bindings so I can send a message?’
Athanasius and Father Thomas exchanged a look. ‘I’m afraid Dr Kaplan advised that you remain restrained, just for the time being. You are obviously still at risk from fits, which might be a danger both to you and others. If you tell me, or rather Father Thomas what to do then we can send the message for you.’
Gabriel closed his eyes and felt tears of frustration pricking the backs of them. He hated feeling like this, so powerless and weak.