Bloodstream: A gripping, unpredictable and shocking thriller

Rossi really didn’t want to leave. Not then, in the middle of everything that had been going on. Yet, she knew Murphy was right. There was nothing that couldn’t be done if she wasn’t there. And she deserved this.

It wasn’t like they were close to a result anyway. She was growing tired of investigating possibilities which never amounted to anything. The case was going to be lost to a bigger taskforce at some point soon, she decided. With absolutely zero leads, it was always going to be the way.

She wanted a night off before all that began, and Darren had given her the best excuse to have one.

It didn’t take long for her to get ready. Home by quarter past four, she had a quick shower then changed into the clothes she’d already set aside. She was just applying the third lipstick she’d picked out – the first two discarded when they didn’t look right – when there was a knock at the door.

Rossi rushed down the stairs, thinking that she really should have gone with her second choice on the lipstick, and maybe even done something more with her hair. She opened the door. Darren stood there with a grin and a single rose.

‘Evening, you look great,’ Darren said, handing her the rose and then planting a kiss on her forehead.

‘You don’t look so bad yourself,’ Rossi replied, stepping back so he could come into the house. ‘You scrub up well when needs be. Had a haircut or had your ears lowered?’

‘Bit of both,’ Darren replied, the wide grin she had noticed on the first date making an appearance. It was a notch below the Joker, which made it endearing rather than worrying.

‘Just give me two seconds.’

Rossi grabbed her jacket off the banister and went into her living room to find her handbag.

‘Everyone’s meeting at five,’ Darren said from the hallway. ‘But we’re not eating until later, so we’ve got plenty of time.’

‘Good, I’ll need a drink before we sit down anyway. Let me just find my smokes.’

‘What did I say about all the diseases those things can give you? Hope you’re not going to get addicted.’

‘I’ll only do it when I have a drink. Besides, I’ve heard it’s people who work in hospitals who smoke more than any other profession anyway.’

‘I can’t see that being true.’

‘Oh, I definitely can,’ Rossi replied, finding an unopened packet of Lambert & Butler and shoving them in her handbag. She came out into the hallway again. ‘I still can’t believe I agreed to this. Meeting your workmates . . . must have been mad to say yes.’

‘Mad about me, I imagine . . .’

‘Oh, don’t start getting soppy on me. I can still drop you so fast, you’ll be wondering what happened a week later.’

‘You’d never do anything so silly,’ Darren said, looping an arm around her and pulling her in for a kiss.

‘Come on,’ Rossi said, breaking away before she had to consider getting ready all over again. ‘Let’s get going. We’ll be late.’

‘So we’re late. Sod them.’

‘No, you can wait until later,’ Rossi said with a smile, walking towards her front door. ‘Let’s get going. After the week I’ve had, I’d prefer a drink first anyway.’

‘That almost hurt my ego,’ Darren said, following her outside, pouting for effect.

It was easier than she had expected. She’d fallen into a relationship almost overnight. Quicker than she had thought was possible. She had spent years actively avoiding them, thinking the reality never matched up to what was imagined. It was still not even close to being perfect, but she could, for the first time, actually see further than a month or so with this one.

Darren began speaking to her in the car as he drove. Rossi was distracted by thoughts of the week’s events, which crept back in and pushed aside the better ones being created now. Always the way.

‘Are you somewhere else?’ Darren said, giving her a quick glance.

‘A bit. As I said, I need that drink.’

‘Don’t tell me I’ve got myself an alcoholic. The prettiest ones always have these problems . . .’

‘Shut up. I’m definitely not an alcoholic. I just know what will help and that’s a large glass of red wine.’

‘Italiano?’

‘Of course,’ Rossi replied, smiling again. ‘Nice accent by the way. Could almost be mistaken for a native.’

‘Thanks, I’ve been working on it.’

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the journey taking only ten or fifteen minutes. The roads weren’t as busy as she’d been expecting for a Saturday evening.

‘I think this week’s news has put people off coming into town,’ Rossi said, as she spied the entrance to the Liverpool One car park coming up.

‘I didn’t think anything could put people off going out in Liverpool. Shows you how wrong I can be.’

They parked up, walking the short distance to the pub on Hanover Street where they were meeting up. Rossi began to feel her heart pumping a little more as they got closer. They passed Waterstones, Rossi fighting the urge to go in and sit amongst the books and lose herself in fiction. Anything to get away from the nervousness that had annoyingly appeared.

Why did she care so much what these people thought of her?

Darren slipped an arm around her shoulders and she fought the urge to shrug him off. Accept this new normal life, she told herself.

A few minutes later, they passed the old Irish bar which was loud and rocking despite the almost empty streets and entered the quieter pub opposite it. A shout went up from the corner, marking their arrival.

‘I’ll get us drinks,’ Darren said, giving the loud group a wave and taking his wallet out of his back pocket. ‘You can stay and give me a hand.’

Rossi breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he hadn’t suggested she go over and introduce herself. It was bright in the pub, an old-style place, which was desperately clinging on to its history, even though a chain had quite plainly taken it over. There were flat screen TVs on every wall, all showing Sky Sports News, which made a change for her. It was nice to see news which she wasn’t involved in for a change.

She thought she may have been in here when she was a student and had tried to visit every alcohol-selling establishment in the city centre, but she had no more than a vague memory of that. It had grown darker outside, the coolness of the approaching evening becoming more noticeable as she’d entered into the warmth of the pub.

She had a quick glance at the group who had taken over the corner of the bar. It seemed evenly spread, gender wise, which brought another sigh of relief. There was a moment when she’d wondered if she would be the only partner to turn up. From the way people were sitting, the body language on show from some of them, there were definitely a few couples in the group.

Oh God, she thought. I’m part of a couple.

Darren turned to her, handing her something which looked like a fishbowl, full to the top with red wine. He grabbed his own drink and lead the way to the table.

She was glad she was still smoking. It would give her an excuse to walk away from the table and take a breather if needs be.

It was a little uncomfortable at first. Rossi kept catching people glancing at her. After the first few gulps of her drink, she began to relax a little more.

She pulled Darren closer to her and whispered in his ear, ‘I’m glad I came.’

*     *     *

Murphy slammed the phone down and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.

‘What’s going on?’ DC Harris said, the smile on his face now replaced by a look of genuine concern. ‘Have we got him?’

Murphy swore to himself under his breath as he tried to find his car keys. ‘Yes . . . no . . . I don’t know. Has anyone seen my bloody keys?’

‘They’re on your desk where you left them, sir,’ DC Harris said, wheeling himself across to Murphy. ‘Is it the drugs? Do we know where they came from?’

‘The Royal,’ Murphy replied, snatching up his keys and looking round the office. ‘The bloody surgical department.’

‘Slow down,’ DCI Stephens said, coming into view from round her office door where she’d been listening. ‘Do we have a possible name?’

‘We have three of them,’ Murphy said, handing over his notes containing the three names. ‘The drugs were from a trial of a new type of anaesthetic and the Royal was one of those taking part in the trial. We’ve also nailed down our first six victims as having links to the hospital. Our guy was clever. He stole just small amounts over the course of around three months . . .’

‘He’d been planning this for a while,’ DCI Stephens said, as everyone in the office began to listen in. ‘All those links . . . it’s how he found them.’

‘Enough of the drug to cause someone to overdose, but not enough to begin a major investigation in the hospital, it seems.’

‘These three names – Ben Flanagan, Sam Bishop, and Darren Logan – they all work in the same department?’

‘Yes, two anaesthetists and a nurse. There are three people who were working at the time the drug has been used, each time. Only three, as it was only a a few occasions it was actually used with patients. There were strict protocols around it, given it’s a trial drug. There are four instances of small quantities going missing following procedures. Three people had access to it at those times. It doesn’t matter though, I know who it is. It’s Logan.’

‘Who?’

‘Darren Logan,’ Murphy replied. ‘We met with him and there was something about him. It fits. Why he’s suddenly on the scene. I’m sure of it. It all makes too much sense, the way he’s got himself in there. Could be a problem with that though.’

Murphy became aware of the number of eyes and ears on him at that moment. He stopped, thinking of Rossi and how closely she guarded her life outside work. ‘Can we talk in your office?’

DCI Stephens extended a hand towards her office, following Murphy as he walked over quickly, closing the door after her. ‘What’s going on, David?’

‘It’s Laura,’ Murphy said, his stomach turning as he thought about her. ‘She’s been dating Logan for a few weeks now.’

‘I know that, David. We all know that. Gossip travels fast round here. But, I see your point. It started about the same time of the first couple’s murder . . .’

‘The best time to have someone in the police on your side, perhaps? I don’t know. All I do know is that she could be in trouble.’

‘She’s here, isn’t she?’

Murphy shifted on his feet and looked down at the worn-looking carpet. ‘I let her go early. She’s meeting with Logan, to meet the people he works with for a drink and a meal. I thought she deserved it.’

‘And now she might be in harm’s way.’

Murphy’s shoulders slumped a little as he thought about the situation.

‘It could be any of the three names.’

‘Are you joking, boss? With our luck around here?

Murphy fixed his boss with a stare.

Stephens sighed. ‘It’s a huge leap to believe it’s him in particular.’ Another sigh. ‘Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re bringing all three in for questioning, now. Let’s get out there and find them.’