Forget-Me-Not Killer

Начало книги

Waking again was like swimming in a sea of dull pain. My head felt hot, my limbs heavy. I tried to open my eyes, and couldn’t. For a moment it struck me only as being queer. Then I realized my face and head were heavily bandaged. I could feel the strips of gauze by raising my leaden hands and touching the cloth with my fingertips.

I had no way of knowing whether it was night or day, winter or summer. I hadn’t the least idea of where I was. I had come from — where? Slowly, a horrible coldness started waving up over me, shaking me so that I wanted to scream.

In the name of mercy, who was I?

I was lying on a bed. I heard the springs creak as I tried to rear up, to tear the bandages from my face in sudden terror. Two hands gripped my shoulders, forcing me back. A voice called:

“Doctor Maddigan! Doctor Maddigan, please!”

The sound that followed the woman’s crisp, professional voice was that of softly clicking heels. Then other hands were added to the woman’s, pushing me against the mattress.

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