The History Suite (#9 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) (33 page)

“No.”

Craig squinted as if he’d heard her incorrectly. “No?”

Liam pulled his gaze from the far distance and started to pay attention. If a fight was gearing up he wanted a ring-side seat.

Nicky folded her arms. “No. Not until you tell us what’s going on. You and Liam have had faces like Lurgan spades since you got back. Where are Annette and Carmen?”

Craig’s squint hardened and with it his voice. “If I say we’re going to brief, then that’s what we’re doing. You and I will have a conversation later, Nicky.”

With that he scanned the faces around him and Liam watched their expressions shift to heightened alertness, one by one. All except Nicky who buried her head in her notebook and poised her pen ready to start. She’d minute the briefing exactly even if she did it with a hurt expression and pursed lips, but Craig would have hell to pay later for telling her off in front of everyone.

“OK. Davy, what have you got for us?”

Davy’s eyes darted from Craig to Nicky and then back again, as if he was waiting to see who blew first. Seeing Craig about to shout he pushed his hair behind his ears and started to report.

“You asked me to look for men in their fifties and eighties w…who were on the unit at the time of both deaths. Focusing on men w…who’d spent a substantial time in Canada or the S…States as well as the UK.”

He paused for Craig’s input. There was none, just Craig’s jaw set so hard that it looked like it would crack and his swift nod to carry on.

“That brought the number down to three.”

Liam interrupted in an astonished voice. “Three men who’ve lived across the pond in a group that size! What are the odds?”

Craig relaxed his scowl to smile at Liam’s incredulity. “Given that nearly twenty percent of North America is of Irish descent, not as unlikely as it seems, I’d say.”

Liam paused, remembering something. “Aye, right enough. Two of my uncles were there for years. They came back, mind.” He grinned and Craig felt a joke coming. “Must’ve missed the rain.”

As Liam guffawed the small group relaxed and Craig sneaked a look to see if Nicky did the same. She didn’t. Her face, what he could see of it given that she was studying her notepad as if it was the Bible, was granite, and he knew he’d pay for chastising her for quite a while. He waved Davy on.

Davy gave Liam a look that said ‘thanks for breaking the gloom’ and continued.

“The three men are the w…ward porter, Ferdy Myers. He’s in his fifties obviously; you couldn’t have a porter in his eighties, could you?”

Liam laughed. “You could the way the pension age keeps rising.”

Davy continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “A doctor who was visiting from another ward; Dr Brian Kirk. He’s fifty odds as well.”

Craig lifted a hand to still him. “Why was he there, Davy?”

“I’ll come to timings next but he w…was on Newman the morning Rudd died to see a patient. He’s a chest s…specialist.”

Craig was curious. “Who was he there to see?”

“A lady with asthma. Mrs Bains.”

Craig nodded him on. They’d come back to the details once he’d laid everything out.

“The last man who fits the criteria is a patient on Reilly. Caleb Pitt; he’s in his eighties.”

At the mention of Pitt Craig shifted in his seat. Liam noticed and earmarked a question for later.

“All three were there both times? The morning Eleanor Rudd was killed and the evening Adrian Cooke’s body was found?”

Ken perked up; the question was bound to highlight a single suspect. From the crestfallen looks when Davy nodded his head, he wasn’t the only one who’d thought it would be that easy.

“S…Sorry. I thought I’d said. All three were in and out of the unit both times. Myers was taking patients back and forth w…when Ellie Rudd died, and on the evening of Dr Cooke’s death he was covering for a porter who’d gone off s…sick. Pitt was on Reilly or thereabouts both times and Dr Kirk was on the unit the evening of Cooke’s death as well.”

Craig interrupted. “Seeing another patient?”

Davy made a face. “Same patient, but I did a bit of digging and it also turns out he and S…Sister Gormley have a thing.”

Liam laughed lecherously. “So the doctor and nurse stories are true, then. Canoodling in the clinical room, kissing in the…”

Suddenly Nicky looked up from her pad. “Canoodling? How old are you, Liam? That’s a word my granny would have used.”

Liam gave her a huffy look. “Aye, well, I grew up in the country. We still say things like that.”

Craig watched from the side of his eye as Nicky re-joined the briefing, studiously avoiding his glance as she did. So that’s how it was going to be; ignoring him hadn’t done the trick so now she was going to freeze him out, no mean feat given that he was her boss.

“Carry on, Davy. How long has it been going on with Sister Gormley?”

“Over a year, boss. Apparently Kirk’s going to leave his w…wife for her.”

“Is that why Gormley forgot to mention that Eddie had called in?”

Davy looked as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him. He moved swiftly to his computer, tapped up a table and then gave Craig a nod. “Probably. S…She’s unaccounted for part of the time he was on the ward.”

Liam snorted. “Probably having a quickie in the clinical room.” Before Nicky had time to tell him off he added. “Do they use words like quickie in Belfast?”

Craig was curious about what was on Davy’s table so he walked over to his desk. What he saw made him even more impressed by the analyst. On Davy’s central screen was a colour-coded table that charted everyone who’d been on the ward during both murders according to location and time. The only blanks were against their three suspects’ names. Even Hazel Gormley’s indiscretion was labelled as ‘off Reilly - unaccounted for’.

Craig pointed at the screen. “Why have you left the blanks against our three possibles?”

“I had s…something in for them, but I removed it five minutes ago just to demonstrate. S…Shall I put it back?”

Craig nodded. “Just for a minute. The blanks are a good idea; focuses us on who we need to question.”

Davy tapped a key and the blank boxes filled with colour and words. Craig nodded him to explain.

“OK. Dr Kirk was on Newman seeing Mrs Bains during Rudd’s death and he saw her again the evening of Cooke’s. I need to refine those times but they still give him time to kill.”

“Or be off somewhere with Sister Gormley.”

Craig pointed to Caleb Pitt’s name.

“He w…was somewhere in Reilly Suite or the main hospital both times.”

“Again, we need exact timings. What about the porter, Ferdy Myers?”

“He was the most mobile. He was on and off the unit all the time. With trollies, taking patients to X-Ray…”

Craig shook his head. “During Rudd’s death yes, but not Cooke’s. He wouldn’t have been taking someone to X-Ray in the evening, not unless they were an emergency.” He’d learned something from dating a doctor.

Ken had been listening quietly but now he spoke. “Trollies? Could that have been Ian Jacobs’ squeaking sound?”

Davy nodded. “One of the possible I.D.s was rubber wheels.”

Liam gave a satisfied smile. “It’s Myers then.”

A series of nods ran round the group until Craig put up a hand to still them.

“Sorry to rain on everyone’s parade but, let me ask, Davy, does Caleb Pitt use a wheelchair?”

Davy tapped another key and a photo of Pitt popped onto the screen with a paragraph of text beneath. He’d lost a leg and used a chair, but he also had a prosthetic leg and cane.

“S…Sometimes but not always, sometimes he uses a cane. But wheelchairs have rubber wheels as well, don’t they?”

Craig didn’t answer just walked thoughtfully back to his seat. After a moment’s silence he summarised.

“OK, we have three men who fit the age groups and possible transatlantic background of the man who phoned Maggie. Two are fifty-somethings and fit, one is in his eighties and disabled. Two had access to either a chair or trolley with wheels that could make the sound Ian Jacobs heard. One may have been occupied with Sister Gormley, who so conveniently forgot to mention that Eddie Rudd had been there that night. So basically any of them could have committed both our murders and we need to narrow things down.”

“Surely the younger ones are more likely, boss? An eighty-year-old’s not likely to have the strength.”

Craig shook his head. “Never underestimate someone based on their age, Liam.” He nodded at Smith. “Ken tested their strength. Davy, did Pitt have a strong grip when the long-stay patients were assessed?”

Davy read for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, and he was on the list of residents out and about in the hospital.”

“OK, then all three men are suspects. I want them checked out quietly, to narrow it down. I don’t want them suspecting anything till we’re ready or God knows what they’ll do next.”

“God knows what who’ll do next?”

Everyone turned to see Annette entering the floor with her hand in a plaster cast. Nicky was the first on her feet.

“Oh my God, Annette! What happened to you?”

Annette smiled weakly and Liam and Craig glanced at each other, wondering what she’d say.

“Fight with a criminal. Someone from the past. The chief and Liam turned up just in time.”

As she said the words her eyes fixed on Craig’s and she gave a small nod. Nicky saw the exchange and knew that something was being left unsaid. She ignored Craig’s quick shake of the head telling her not to ask.

“Who was it, Annette? Someone you arrested?”

“Someone I should have sorted out last year.”

Craig cut across the conversation before Nicky dug any deeper. If Annette decided to tell people about her domestic situation that was her prerogative but he wasn’t having her interrogated in front of the whole squad.

“OK, you all know what you’re doing. Davy, dig deeper into the three backgrounds and keep chasing that fingerprint with Des. It must be on a database somewhere. Ken, find Carmen and interview Sister Gormley; I want her movements during both deaths, and check out Dr Kirk’s alibis for the murders. I want every second accounted for. Liam…”

“Aye?”

“You take Ferdy Myers. Check with the estates department first to see what the porter’s Rota was for those two days. It’s a bit too convenient that someone went off sick and Myers had to cover on the night Dr Coke got killed.”

“Didn’t you mean Dr Cooke, boss?”

“I know what I meant.”

Craig smiled at Annette and nodded towards his office as the others watched curiously. At the door he turned and shot them a pointed look. “Get on with it and I want everyone back here at seven sharp.”

***

Craig poured two coffees then sat down and gazed at Annette across the desk, waiting for her to speak first. When she did so it was hesitantly.

“Sir…I…”

She broke off and shrugged weakly, as if words couldn’t convey what she needed to. Craig looked at her for a moment, really looked, in a way that people rarely did at colleagues they saw every day. She was tired and in pain, but behind the fatigue Craig suddenly noticed how attractive she was. It wasn’t that he’d thought her unattractive before, but he was a man who separated the personal from the professional, never crossing the line with female colleagues in the way that a lot of his peers did. He had enough challenges with the women he already had in his life without going looking for more.

But even he’d noticed how much weight Annette had lost in the past few months and how long she’d grown her hair. It was softer and more feminine, as if she’d decided she was post-feminist now and didn’t need to play down her looks to be taken seriously at work. He thought of Julia’s tendency to torture her red curls into a chignon and scrub her face clean for work. Annette hadn’t been the only woman to worry her femininity would get in the way in a male world. Her transformation had started with Pete’s infidelity but accelerated after she’d danced with Mike at John’s wedding. Mike was a good guy and he’d treat her better than Pete McElroy ever had.

As the thoughts ran through Craig’s mind, he knew that Annette was having her own. A quick glance to check that his door was shut and Nicky wasn’t pressing her ear against it outside, then he started on neutral ground.

“I didn’t expect you back for at least a month, Annette.”

She smiled and Craig read happiness in her eyes. Happiness when she’d just been assaulted? Her tone of voice confirmed it.

“It’s only a fractured scaphoid and little finger, sir.” She gave a pragmatic shrug. “Pete obviously wasn’t as strong as he thought.”

“But surely you want time off?”

She nodded. “A few days to explain to the kids. If that’s OK?”

“Of course it’s OK.” He stopped, hesitant about his next question. “Can I ask…what will you tell them?”

“The truth. All of it. The end of the marriage, how hard I tried to make it work, and…”

“What Pete did to you today? Will you tell them that?”

Annette glanced away. “I don’t know, I really don’t. He’s their father and they love him…this is nothing to do with them…”