“I’d swallow down that temptation if I were you, Mr. Collins.” Jack took a step nearer to the man.
“And who’s going to make me? You?”
Jack puffed out his chest. “If I have to, yes.”
Sally yanked on Jack’s arm and pulled him away from the irate man. “All right. Pack it in. We’ll leave, get on with some real police business, on one proviso.”
“Which is?” Mr. Collins narrowed his untrusting eyes.
“That you ring us the second your daughter regains consciousness, so that we can return to question her.”
Mr. Collins continued to glare at the detectives.
Mrs. Collins eventually broke the silence. “Yes, just leave us alone, please.”
“Very well.” Sally handed the woman a card. “It’s vital to the case, I can’t emphasise that enough.”
“Yeah, because the other victims have all ended up dead. We got that, Inspector. Let’s hope our baby does pull through this, for your sake.”
Sally and Jack walked off the ward and out to the car, where Jack erupted, “How dare he talk to us like that!”
“He dares because he has the right to, Jack. Put yourself in his shoes; you’re a parent. Look at how you reacted to Teresa’s pregnancy news, then triple that rage. I guess you’d come out with the same result as the Collinses are going through at present. I don’t blame them in the least.”
“I suppose you’re right. It doesn’t alter the fact that we’ve been busting a gut to get this fucker, and all our efforts haven’t been appreciated.”
“I understand. I’ll tell you one thing—going forward that swift kick up the arse will probably do our determination more good than harm, eh?”
Jack nodded at her over the roof of the vehicle. “You’re right.”
Sally got into the car and fastened her seatbelt. “The trouble is, it’s not as if we haven’t been trying, Jack. Let’s hope Amanda Collins comes around soon. Otherwise, I can see the body count rising even more.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sally and her team had to wait another twenty-four hours before they heard from the hospital again. The doctor overseeing Amanda’s care rang Sally on Mr. Collins’s instructions as he was too emotional to place the call himself.
“Will she be well enough for me to bring a police sketch artist along, doc?”
“I doubt it, Inspector. She’s still more than a little groggy.”
“The thing is, doc, we’re on a deadline.”
“I don’t really care about what deadlines you’re working under. All I care about is my patient and her needs. Come in and see her, by all means, just don’t push her. Give her time.”
“Okay. We’ll be there in half an hour.” Sally hung up and immediately called her partner into the room.
Jack appeared in the doorway, frowning. “Boss, what’s up?”
“Amanda Collins is awake. We have the all-clear to visit her but with reservations. Can you call the sketch artist for me? The doc advised me not to take the artist. However, I think we should, just in case Amanda wants, or is able, to give us a description of this creep.”
“I’ll get on it now. Shall I ask her to be ready to go ASAP?”
“Do that. I told the doc we’d be there within thirty minutes. Fingers crossed that this will turn out to be beneficial for all of us.”
Amanda was a sorry-looking sight. Her head was bandaged, she had a black eye, and a cast encased her left arm. Sally flinched when she saw the girl—Amanda’s wounds reminded her of what she herself had gone through during the last week at the hands of her ex and her parents’ neighbour. Amanda looked wary when Sally walked into the room, along with Jack and Kathy, the sketch artist.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Collins. You remember my partner, Jack. This is a colleague of ours, Kathy. She’s a police sketch artist.”
Amanda’s parents nodded their acceptance of the intrusion.
Sally approached the bed and said softly, “Well, it’s nice to have you back with us, Amanda. How are you feeling?”
“Not quite with it. Are you the police?” She eyed Jack warily.
Sally turned to her partner, winked at him, and motioned for him to wait outside. Jack cleared his throat, mumbled something about stepping out, and left the room before Sally continued talking to the victim. “I am. I’m the investigating officer working your case. I wondered if you were up to telling us how the incident happened.”
“I can try. Some things are a little fuzzy. I’m willing to help if I can.”
“Are you up to giving us a description of the man?”
Amanda closed her eyes and her chin began to wobble.
Sally smiled. “Okay, leave that for now. I don’t want to cause you any stress. Let’s wait until your body has had time to adjust first.”
“No. I want to. I can see his face. It’s imprinted in my mind. Every time I close my eyes, his face is hounding me, taunting me. If I share the information with you, do you think it will help me to get over it quicker?” she asked anxiously.
“Judging by what other victims have told us in the past, yes. Some people say it’s a form of therapy.”
“Mum, can you get me a drink of water, please?”
Mrs. Collins placed a straw to Amanda’s lips, and the girl sipped the clear liquid, emptying half the glass before she pulled her head away. “Thanks, Mum.” She smiled at her mother then looked up at Sally. “Where do you want me to start?”
“By telling us if you recognised the man who attacked you. Did you know him at all?”
“No, and yet there was something vaguely familiar about him.”
Sally asked the question that had been bugging her since the night Amanda was attacked. “Why were you in the alley that night?”
“I’d just finished a shift at work.”
“Where do you work, Amanda?” Sally asked.
“At Lewis Supermarket. I work the evening shift, stacking the shelves from five until eleven, four days a week.”
“I see. And the staff entrance backs on to the alley, I take it?” Sally tried to recall the layout of the area.
“No, a few alleys over. I use the cut-through to get to my bus stop. The last bus leaves there at eleven ten. If I don’t get on that, I’m screwed.”
“So you take that same route regularly?”
“Yes, after every shift.”
“And have you ever noticed anyone hanging around, possibly waiting for you before?”
She paused for a moment to cast her mind back. “Like a stalker? Not that I can remember. I would have told my parents if I’d had any fears like that.”
“Okay, at least that’s one thing. So, can you explain what happened right before the attack occurred? I mean, did he jump you from behind, or approach you on the ruse of asking the way? Something like that?”
A fearful and pained expression pulled at Amanda’s features. “He jumped out at me. He was waiting in a doorway and pounced, grabbed me around the throat.” Her hand went to her neck. “As soon as I passed by; as if he was waiting for me. If I had seen anyone lurking down the alley looking suspicious, I would have turned back immediately and taken the long way round. I tried to fight him off, but he was far stronger than me. Before I had the chance to figure out what was going on, he had me down on the ground. One hand over my mouth and the other up my sk…” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced in her father’s direction, apparently unable to say any more about the attack in front of him.
Sally got the gist of what she meant so bypassed the issue rather than feel the wrath of Mr. Collins’s tongue again. “Did you have any unusual interaction with anyone at work during your shift?”
“I don’t understand. You think it was a co-worker who did this to me?”
“You said he seemed vaguely familiar. I’m just trying to figure how you knew the culprit, Amanda. We need to know why he chose you to attack.”