*
Amanda leapt toward Kirkwood, screaming at the nurse to move away. But the nurse swung round on her, levelling the syringe like a knife fighter and blocking her path to the downed Sergeant.
'Sit down,' Yvonne said, all trace of the jovial and caring nightingale now gone. It was a strange sight. The nurse hunched low, the syringe held level before her, guarding any route that Amanda may take. She kept glancing behind her at the spasming policeman, torn between savouring the spectacle and guarding against interference.
'Have you gone mad? We are police detectives and you are . . .' Amanda was cut off by the nurse.
'More in this world than your investigation or dead friend's suicide.' Yvonne said. 'Boo hoo for me. Hoo hoo. Now shut up while I enjoy the death here, your turn soon enough.'
'Don't trust her,' Harvey yelled from the bed, thrashing from side to side, pulling helplessly at the handcuffs. 'Run. Get out of here.'
This was crazy, Amanda thought. The world gone mad. But Sergeant Kirkwood was hurt and whatever had been injected into him was surely killing him. Amanda had to act fast.
Wrapping a hand around the coat on the back of her chair, Amanda lunged forward suddenly, flailing the tail of the coat around the hand that held the syringe, wrapping it up in the heavy material.
Harvey shouted again, but neither woman heard, each was intent on the other.
'Your turn now, Miss Police Lady.' Yvonne gripped hold of the coat and yanked hard, pulling Amanda off her feet. Amanda flew into the nurse with the force of the pull, but instead of stumbling, used the momentum to hammer a palm fist into her opponent's body. It was like punching a hay bale. The nurse, barely flinching from the onslaught, smiled widely and swung a fist at Amanda's head. She ducked, but not quickly enough and the fist glanced off her skull, reeling back as she let go of the long coat.
'I drink a little something every day,' the nurse started to dance side to side, unravelling the syringe and throwing the coat to the floor. 'Helps the immune system and makes me a tough old bird.' She kept glancing at the ball of agony that was Kirkwood, his knees brought up to his chest, his hands reaching out but quickly clenching back to his face.
Harvey yelled and screamed, rattling the bars on his bed as he struggled to free himself.
If he shouted an accusation or a warning, Amanda couldn't tell. The nurse in front of her seemed to be enjoying herself. A manic smile and wide, glazed eyes. Amanda patted her skirt, felt the reassuring length of telescopic steel, and slowly withdrew her truncheon from her side pocket. With a flick of her wrist the truncheon expanded two feet.
'You expect to hurt me with that?' Yvonne said, dipping her shoulders as she balanced on the balls of her feet.
'Just a little.' Amanda flicked the truncheon toward the nurse, testing for range. The nurse leant back, then rushed forward. She kicked at Amanda, who side stepped and brought the metal rod down hard on the outreached leg. Amanda expected Yvonne to collapse, the shin struck hard enough to splinter and any normal person would be in agony. Instead, she stepped back out of reach.
'My, but you're a quick one,' said the nurse. 'But that's OK. I know something you don't know.' Yvonne readied the syringe in her hand.
'That what, you're a walking advert for Bupa?'
'Your death is forecast. It's read in the stars. You're going to die and I am going to end the assassin.'
'You're as crazy as a bag of cats.' Amanda closed the distance and lashed out toward her face with the truncheon. Yvonne braced against the impact, but the truncheon didn't connect. Instead it sailed past and caught the syringe in her hand. The glass casing shattered and the black liquid sprayed across the wall.
'Noooo!' Yvonne screamed. 'I wanted to watch. I wanted to watch. You bitch!' Her face contorted in rage, spittle flying from her lips as her cheeks flushed purple. She rushed forward, hands held high. Amanda raised the truncheon between the nurse's outstretched arms, spun on her toes as the woman's momentum brushed past her and levered the truncheon to pin the one arm against the other. As the nurse crashed into the wall, Amanda locked the joints of the arm into an agonising swan neck position. Yvonne was held against the wall by the arm lock.
Amanda placed her knee in the small of the nurse's back, holding her truncheon firm.
'You have the right to remain silent, bitch. And if you make a move, I'm going to break your arm.'
'This is not the way it happens,' the nurse seethed through clenched teeth, trying to turn her head to glance at the doorway or the window.
Amanda took out her handcuffs. 'Sergeant Kirkwood?' she shouted behind her. 'Are you there?'
'You should hurry,' Harvey said from his unkempt bed, the covers thrown off from wild thrashing. 'He's over this side of the room. He's moving, but he is in pain.'
Amanda snapped the handcuffs onto one of the nurse's hands. But as she reached for the other, Yvonne stood up, throwing Amanda back across the room, snapping her own arm against the arm lock. The truncheon spun into the wall opposite. She turned round, her face and neck corded with rage, her left arm hanging at an obscene angle at her side. Her eyes were glazed and she was mumbling to herself.
Amanda crawled backwards, appalled at the sight of the woman and the damage she had self-inflicted. She felt the cold steel truncheon beneath her fingers and gripped it tightly.
At that moment Kirkwood cried out, another seizure tearing at his insides and he started to pull himself up the bed. Amanda reached out for him, but he couldn't sense her. He was shaking, his body tense as his heart knotted and twisted within his chest.
Kirkwood knelt at the bed, knuckles white, neck strained as the last of his arterial chambers ruptured. Harvey pulled at the restraints, helpless, as the dying detective stared up at him from the side of his bed.
Yvonne, her face a nightmarish mask, held up a red striped water bottle. 'Make enough for everyone, my Ma used to say.' She uncorked the flask with her teeth and splashed the contents at Amanda.
Amanda flinched as the brackish water hit her arm and shoulder. She stared at the nurse, unsure of what she was going to do next.
Amanda was perplexed. The nurse, clearly deranged, had injected Sergeant Kirkwood with some drug and was dying in front of her. The suspect killer was yelling as the nurse attacked her. And now she had splashed her with liquid, like some childish game of water tag.
Then the water sizzled.