A Question Of Honour: A Harry Royle Thriller Read Online Free
Author: PR Hilton
allowed to follow inside an operating theatre. But what would the signs be? He had no idea. As he was turning things over in his mind, he realised that the nurse was speaking to him directly.
His mind suddenly grasped an image, an episode that had happened during a training exercise two years before. A young soldier had shot himself in the stomach. The medics were worried that he couldn't focus and his mind was wandering. Harry also recalled the soldier saying he felt very cold, it had been a hot August afternoon at the time of the accident. Harry decided to make his play and ignore her. Her voice spoke again.
"Mr Royle, can you hear me?"
Harry shivered as best he could and made his teeth chatter, rolling his eyes, he mumbled quietly in reply.
"So cold I'm so cold. Can't get warm. Let me sleep."
With this, he let his eyes close. He felt her young body tense beside him.
"Harry, stay awake there's a good chap. Open your eyes and look at me."
The ploy was working perfectly, the nurse's voice was tinged with alarm. He kept his eyes shut and kept shivering. Soft hands shook him gently. He kept up the show and soft hands quickly released him.
Within a moment all hell broke loose, a doctor was barking orders, handcuffs were unlocked, and Harry Royle was being rushed to an operating theatre to save his life. He kept his eyes closed and brought his shivering up to fever pitch, even affording himself the odd low moan. His performance worked wonderfully and he felt himself moving quickly through doors and down corridors until he at last stopped. Being certain to keep shivering, he eased his eyes open just enough to form twin slits from which to peer out from. They had their backs to him and no guards in sight. He quickly opened his eyes fully, two nurses and two doctors stood over him. He knew he would have to convince them that he really was as ruthless as people believed.
Leaping up he snatched the first bladed metal object he saw, and pulled a nurse towards him, his arm around her neck. The others stood in horror at the sight of the battered and bruised desperate murderer holding a scalpel at the throat of the youngest student nurse in the hospital. The charade worked, as he hoped it would. In truth had they called his bluff, he would have had no option but to let the poor frightened girl go and make a run for it. But fear and false knowledge had worked for him. The doctors and nurse backed away, as he told them not to raise the alarm until the young nurse returned. Harry pushed her ahead of him out of the door.
Outside of the room he could see two uniformed men with their backs to him further down the corridor. He turned abruptly and dragged the nurse through a door and into a stairwell. The area was empty and once the door had closed, he tossed the scalpel onto the floor, kicking it into the far corner. He looked at the girl's tear-streaked face, her eyes wide and full of fear and he shuddered. Putting his hands gently on the nurse's shoulders, he spoke in as quiet and calming a voice as he was able to manage.
"Look, love I am so sorry to have scared you like this, but this isn't me."
The girl looked more frightened than ever. He continued.
"No, I'm not crazy. What they say about me, killing those women, well it's not true, not any of it. I wouldn't hurt you for the world. Honestly, I wouldn't. I had to make it look real."
The girl looked at him the way an animal looks when it has nowhere to run and is too tired to do anything but await its fate. Harry realised that he was running out of time and not getting through to the poor girl, and so, kissing her cheek, he ran down the stairs and from the building. He hoped the peck on the cheek would mean something, show his humanity.
She sat down in the quiet stairwell and cried as she hugged her knees and prayed the killer wouldn't return to finish the job. It would be an episode that would long haunt Wendy Butler's nightmares. Long after she qualified and became a senior
His mind suddenly grasped an image, an episode that had happened during a training exercise two years before. A young soldier had shot himself in the stomach. The medics were worried that he couldn't focus and his mind was wandering. Harry also recalled the soldier saying he felt very cold, it had been a hot August afternoon at the time of the accident. Harry decided to make his play and ignore her. Her voice spoke again.
"Mr Royle, can you hear me?"
Harry shivered as best he could and made his teeth chatter, rolling his eyes, he mumbled quietly in reply.
"So cold I'm so cold. Can't get warm. Let me sleep."
With this, he let his eyes close. He felt her young body tense beside him.
"Harry, stay awake there's a good chap. Open your eyes and look at me."
The ploy was working perfectly, the nurse's voice was tinged with alarm. He kept his eyes shut and kept shivering. Soft hands shook him gently. He kept up the show and soft hands quickly released him.
Within a moment all hell broke loose, a doctor was barking orders, handcuffs were unlocked, and Harry Royle was being rushed to an operating theatre to save his life. He kept his eyes closed and brought his shivering up to fever pitch, even affording himself the odd low moan. His performance worked wonderfully and he felt himself moving quickly through doors and down corridors until he at last stopped. Being certain to keep shivering, he eased his eyes open just enough to form twin slits from which to peer out from. They had their backs to him and no guards in sight. He quickly opened his eyes fully, two nurses and two doctors stood over him. He knew he would have to convince them that he really was as ruthless as people believed.
Leaping up he snatched the first bladed metal object he saw, and pulled a nurse towards him, his arm around her neck. The others stood in horror at the sight of the battered and bruised desperate murderer holding a scalpel at the throat of the youngest student nurse in the hospital. The charade worked, as he hoped it would. In truth had they called his bluff, he would have had no option but to let the poor frightened girl go and make a run for it. But fear and false knowledge had worked for him. The doctors and nurse backed away, as he told them not to raise the alarm until the young nurse returned. Harry pushed her ahead of him out of the door.
Outside of the room he could see two uniformed men with their backs to him further down the corridor. He turned abruptly and dragged the nurse through a door and into a stairwell. The area was empty and once the door had closed, he tossed the scalpel onto the floor, kicking it into the far corner. He looked at the girl's tear-streaked face, her eyes wide and full of fear and he shuddered. Putting his hands gently on the nurse's shoulders, he spoke in as quiet and calming a voice as he was able to manage.
"Look, love I am so sorry to have scared you like this, but this isn't me."
The girl looked more frightened than ever. He continued.
"No, I'm not crazy. What they say about me, killing those women, well it's not true, not any of it. I wouldn't hurt you for the world. Honestly, I wouldn't. I had to make it look real."
The girl looked at him the way an animal looks when it has nowhere to run and is too tired to do anything but await its fate. Harry realised that he was running out of time and not getting through to the poor girl, and so, kissing her cheek, he ran down the stairs and from the building. He hoped the peck on the cheek would mean something, show his humanity.
She sat down in the quiet stairwell and cried as she hugged her knees and prayed the killer wouldn't return to finish the job. It would be an episode that would long haunt Wendy Butler's nightmares. Long after she qualified and became a senior
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