Page 44 of The Final Vow (Washington Poe #7)

Doctor Clara Lang was in a secure hospital on the outskirts of Harrogate.

Uncle Bertie lived on a country estate near York.

Poe planned to see his trauma therapist in the morning, grab a pub lunch, then pick up Doyle’s uncle in the afternoon.

He figured he could be back at Highwood for tea.

He would then spend the evening reviewing the new data with Bradshaw.

But sometimes plans get changed. Sometimes they get cancelled altogether.

This was particularly true when it came to secure hospitals.

Poe had just passed Scotch Corner when his mobile phone buzzed.

He checked his rear-view mirror for cops – the Land Rover wasn’t equipped with modern things like a hands-free system, electric windows or power steering – and pressed accept when he saw the road behind him was dibble-free.

Road cops loved ticketing the National Crime Agency.

‘Poe speaking,’ he said.

‘This is Doctor Gray, Sergeant Poe. I’m afraid you’ll have to postpone your visit with Clara.’

‘Oh, I was hoping to talk to her about this lunatic holding the country to ransom.’

‘I’m afraid there’s been an incident,’ he said. ‘And we don’t like to use the word “lunatic”.’

‘Neither do I, doc,’ Poe said. ‘But this guy is bloody nuts. I’m afraid lunatic is exactly the right word.’

‘Well, like I said, there’s been an incident.’

There was that word again, Poe thought. Incident.

Doyle had said Uncle Bertie was no longer able to drive due to an incident.

And now Doctor Gray was using it in the same sentence as Clara Lang.

And when it came to his trauma therapist, the word ‘incident’ usually meant someone was now missing an eye.

‘Is everyone OK?’

‘Doctor Lang is fine, Sergeant Poe.’

‘Not what I asked.’

‘But it’s how I answered,’ Doctor Gray said. ‘I’m sorry if you’ve had a wasted journey, but your visit has been cancelled. All visits have been cancelled.’

Poe could hear yelling in the background. Alarms were still sounding. It probably wasn’t the best time to be nosy. He said he’d rearrange his visit, wished him well with whatever was going on, and hung up.

‘Just me and you then, Uncle Bertie,’ he said to himself.