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“Was there anything with him: bags, bottles, papers of any kind?”
“No, that was how he was, poor bastard. Anyway, I didn’t check. You don’t think I was going to approach him, do you?”
The ambulance drew up and the medics jumped out of the vehicle. One was tall and old with thinning grey hair. The younger one was stocky and balding, and immediately forgot his manners, or where he was. “Fucking hell.”
“I’m going to have to leave you two ladies now, but I’d appreciate it if you stay around, we will need to take a statement.”
“Doubt I’ll be going anywhere,” said Elaine Kirk.
As Gardener exited the fenced area, he heard Reilly explaining what he knew, which was very little.
The medics took over and both officers stood back. They asked routine questions – to which they received no answers.
The older man said he would retrieve the stretcher and a saline drip from the ambulance, whilst the younger one stood and spoke to Gardener.
“Where did you find him?”
“Here,” replied Gardener.
“We think he was dumped during the night,” said Reilly.
“We can see that he’s been starved,” said Gardener, “would you have any idea how long for, or what shape he’s in; is he likely to make it?”
The medic whistled through his teeth. “Hard to say. Without water, he’d die after only a few days, three at the
most, depending upon the temperature and other conditions. Starving someone but giving them just water, may well keep them alive for weeks; be bloody painful.”
“Looks like that’s what’s happened,” said Reilly.
The medic nodded. “It depends how fat they are to start with, and how well they metabolise their body fat. Using your own body fat to keep you alive makes you feel nauseous, because you can’t replenish minerals like sodium. A patient’s blood sodium levels eventually fall to the point where it induces delirium, and possibly a coma, then probably death. Without amino acids, the liver can no longer produce plasma proteins, and water then leaks out into the tissues and causes oedema fluid build-up – if the patient stays alive long enough.”
“You seem to know your stuff,” said Gardener. “How come you’re driving ambulances?”
“Keep failing the exams,” replied the medic, sheepishly. “Lose my bottle.”
Gardener felt sorry for him.
The medic turned when his colleague called him over. As time was of the essence they figured it best to move the victim immediately, despite the ramifications. They had no idea if he would live, or if he did, how long it would be; but they knew for a fact that his best chance was not here, on solid concrete in the middle of Leeds on a cold February morning, despite it being mild for the time of year. Both men then discussed a technique they thought best for transferring him to the stretcher.
Either side of the body, they gently lifted him an inch from the ground and held him steady.
Still the victim made no sound.
“Okay?” said one of them.
His colleague nodded.
If Gardener thought the shocks had ended for the time being, what he saw underneath the body once it was clear and onto the stretcher, nearly stopped his heart and made his stomach lurch.
Chapter Thirty-three
“Hold it,” shouted Gardener.
Both medics glanced in his direction with an expression that said “are you out of your mind, stopping us now”.
Reilly knelt down and crawled carefully on his knees, retrieving a pair of disposable gloves from his jacket.
“Sir,” said the medic, “if we have any chance of saving this man we need to get him to the hospital.”
