The Visitor (#3 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) (13 page)

***

Liam yawned and stretched, gazing around the small ward room they’d been allocated for interviews. It was windowless and airless and he was fighting hard not to fall asleep. He had print-outs of Davy’s background checks in front of him. Most people had been relegated to the ‘innocent’ pile, but one still sat there, read and re-read. Charles McAllister’s.

It read like an example of the perfect life. Good school, good university, health service management scheme and on up through the ranks. Hardly a post lasting longer than two years before promotion to the next rung. He was only forty-five and this was his third Chief Exec’s post, each time running bigger trusts. Until now he ran St Marys. One of the largest in the UK.

What was even more interesting was that he’d done it without the traditional executive’s stay-at-home wife. With 2.4 kids trotted out for photo opportunities, to gaze up at him adoringly. In real life, Mrs McAllister was a partner at Feeney’s Accountants. And there were no photo-ops and no kids; whether by fate or design. Then there was her avoiding Joe’s eyes when she gave McAllister his alibi.

No, something was wrong here. It was all too perfect, and Liam didn’t like ‘perfect’.

He got a sudden ache in his shoulder and nodded to himself. He always got it when there was something not quite right. And there was something very ‘not right’ about Charles McAllister. He was up to his eyes in something. But what?

He yawned again and then lifted the phone to the squad, catching Davy at his desk. “Davy son, I need a wee word...”

Chapter Eleven

Beth Walker was definitely the worse for wear. She looked nothing like the bouncy little thing Craig had met the day before. Her eyes were swollen from obvious crying and he could smell alcohol on her breath. A lot of alcohol. The scent rose from her like perfume, despite her minty attempts to hide it. She was dressed in a scruffy t-shirt and torn skinny jeans, with a pixie hat perched precariously on her head. She waved a vague apology for her dishevelled look, chewing gum sheepishly.

“Sorry, but I just couldn’t cope last night. I went home and got drunk. No crime there officer... is there?” She giggled. When Craig didn’t laugh back her eyes widened and she pulled herself upright, suddenly realising that the interview might be recorded.

“Hang on. What’s happening? I agreed to have a chat to tell you what I knew, not to be interrogated. Do I need a solicitor?”

Craig leaned back in his chair trying to look serious, but fighting the urge to laugh. If Beth had looked like a Telly-Tubby yesterday she resembled a drunken elf now.

“I don’t know Ms Walker.
Do
you need a solicitor?” She scowled at him and her lip ring dug in. It looked painful. “We haven’t actually asked you anything yet.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t look very friendly...” She indicated Sandi with a small finger. “And I don’t like the look of that tape-recorder. Did you do this with the others? Is this ’cos I’m gay? Although I certainly don’t feel very gay today.”

She giggled again and Craig regarded her despairingly. They might need to leave it until she wasn’t fifty percent proof.

“It’s just an informal chat, Ms Walker. We’re offering to tape everyone so we don’t have to repeat the questions. But we can leave the tape off if you wish? Or hold the interview tomorrow when you’re feeling better...rested? If you’d like someone here with you, then that’s fine. We can wait until you get a solicitor.”

“Am I being accused of something?”

“No. Not at all. We’re just piecing together what happened on Monday evening. You were the deceased’s midwife and you were on duty.”

She relaxed instantly and shrugged. “Oh well. I know I’m drunk, but as the Nuns used to say, ‘In Vino Veritas’. I think that means when you booze you tell the truth. Or something like that. I don’t have anything to hide and I want to help Evie. Sorry for being defensive. I’m just a bit pissed-off that no one listened to me before. I’ve been telling people this was going to happen since February. Even earlier - since Deborah McCance died.

And now, here we are again. A few months later and another death. How many women have to die before people do something? If they’d listened to me back then, maybe this wouldn’t be happening. Sorry. I know that’s nasty of me and I don’t mean that it’s your fault personally. But, well, you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, we’re not that easily offended.”

“OK. How can I help you then, ’Spector?”

She nodded to switch on the tape and confirmed her name and address.

“Right Ms Walker, could you please outline your movements on Monday night, from the moment you came on duty.”

“Well, I came on at eight for the night shift, and Evie was one of two patients I had on the labour ward. I was keeping an eye on the post-natal ward as well. That’s where the mums go when they’ve had their babies. It’s just through there.” She pointed to the floor map that Craig had spread out on the table.

“Is that normal practice?”

“Aye. Yes, totally. If you’re a midwife with mums due to deliver, then you get post-natal to cover. Post-natal’s nearly always quiet. You work with another midwife and she takes the emergencies. And anything else that comes up.

Anyway, Evie was fine. All her observations were perfect. She had a drip up, with her Insulin being injected twice a day. She’d had some at lunchtime, and wasn’t due again until midnight. So we just chatted away for fifteen minutes. About baby names mostly. She was still choosing, but she liked Ella... she knew it was a wee girl.”

She stopped speaking abruptly, and a small stream of tears started down her cheeks, freed by tiredness and alcohol. It was a minute before she could talk again. Craig stayed silent. Alcohol was lowering her inhibitions and she wouldn’t thank him for pointing it out. Plus it could prove useful for getting at the truth. In Vino Veritas indeed.

She sniffed loudly and re-started. “She wasn’t in any distress. She was really happy, honestly. That was about nine on Monday night. She said that her mum, step-dad and husband had been up earlier. Her father, Mr Hill, had been around all afternoon. He was often outside on the patio smoking. Anyway, then Katy Stevens arrived to check on her. She was Evie’s physician.”

Craig interjected. “Could you tell me why she needed a physician?”

“It’s Trust practice for pregnancy diabetes now. Every woman must have oversight by an endocrine physician – that’s Katy Stevens. She’s lovely. I’ve known her for years.”

“How long was Dr Stevens with Evie?”

“About fifteen minutes. Then she left the room to chat to Mr Hill, outside in the patio garden. I could see them through the glass.” She pointed to the garden on the map. “Then Mr Hill came back in to sit with Evie, and I went to see another patient.”

“Was Dr Stevens alone with Evie?”

“Yes of course. Why?”

Craig didn’t answer but she hardly seemed to notice, rambling on.

“Five minutes later I noticed Murdock going into the room so I stayed away. I really can’t stand the man. Mr Hill must’ve felt the same ‘cos he left the room immediately. He went outside again, probably for another smoke. He always smells of cigarettes - it made Evie a bit queasy. Anyway, then Murdock left and I headed back in, just to check that she didn’t need anything. But she was grand. She wasn’t even nervous about her operation. It wasn’t due until today anyway.”

Craig feigned puzzlement. “Why was she having a Caesarean?”

Beth’s expression set hard. “My question exactly! Because Nigel Murdock’s a selfish, lazy shite, that’s why! That’s part of the reason I’m not very popular with him. He Caesareans practically all of his health service patients, between nine and five. It’s a major operation but he still puts women through it. Because it’s more convenient for him than being called in at three in the morning, for an ‘inconvenient’ natural birth. We’ve had loads of rows about it.” She snorted in disgust. “Conveyor-belt medicine.”

He nodded her on.

“Anyway, I was in and out all evening. And I was just walking down the corridor to check on Evie at about three-thirty, when I got an urgent call to post-natal. One of the mothers had picked up the baby bath with baby in it, and her scar burst open.”

Sandi winced...babies could definitely wait.

“Anyway, all hell broke loose while she was calmed down. And the registrar was called to take her back to theatre. We had to get that all sorted, so what should have taken me fifteen minutes actually took me about forty-five. But I knew that Evie was fine. Katy and Murdock had checked on her earlier, and her Dad was always around. I knew he’d fetch me if there were any problems.”

She stopped dead and was silent for at least a minute. When she started again her voice was slow and halting. Craig leaned forward encouragingly. “What happened then, Ms Walker?”

Beth took a tearful breath. “I walked down the corridor towards Evie’s room. She was in the side-room nearest the Unit entrance. But you know that already.”

She pointed to the floor plan again. “Just there. But as I approached, somewhere, on some level, I registered that it was just too quiet. You know how you can tell that a room’s empty even before you go in? Well I just sensed that there was no life in there. When I walked in, Evie was lying halfway out of the bed with her arm nearly touching the floor. She was completely pale and...” She stopped abruptly.

“And what, Ms Walker?”

She stood up and leaned across the table, shouting at him with the freedom of drink.

“She was dead! I knew she was dead. Is that what you want?” She turned around and shouted at the tape recorder. “Did you get that, tape? Are you happy now?”

Sandi stood, ready to restrain her if she lashed out, but Craig shook his head. Then Beth sat down again abruptly, and slumped, like a deflated balloon. The interview room fell silent, except for the sound of her crying, until finally Craig spoke softly.

“How did you know that she was dead?”

She swallowed hard, not looking at him. “Experience, some sort of sixth sense. I knew she’d gone before I even touched her. And her father was nowhere to be seen. She died alone. Twenty-six and pregnant and she died alone.” She paused for a few seconds, collecting herself.

“I felt for a pulse but there was none. So I hit the crash button and resuscitated her until the team arrived. As soon as they came in I put a monitor on the baby. Its wee heart was still beating, so Evie can’t have been dead for long. We had to get her to theatre quickly, for the baby to have any chance. The registrar was with the other lady, so I crash-called Murdock. Then I got her into theatre one, for an emergency Caesarean.”

“The records say that the crash team got there within three minutes, Ms Walker - is that correct?” Then Craig startled; had they interviewed all of them? He made a mental note to check.

“I think so. I remember there was an anaesthetist, the on-call doctor and nurses. Evie already had lines up, so they rushed her into theatre two. It’s only down the corridor. The whole Unit’s laid out in a cross-shape. Look, there.” She pointed to the map again.

“Then Mr Hill suddenly appeared. He’d fallen asleep on a chair outside. Evie was being wheeled into theatre and he grabbed her hand and refused to let go. There was no time to argue, so we just threw a gown over him. No one said it, but we all knew she’d already gone. All I remember then was Murdock arriving and him saying ‘here’s the baby’. Then the paediatrician took her to check her over. Murdock called time of death on Evie, and that was it - there was a big bang, and instruments fell all over the floor. Mr Hill had punched Murdock when he said that Evie was dead. He was swinging for everyone, yelling he was going to kill us all. I didn’t pay much attention to be honest, I felt so sorry for him. And truthfully, I was really pleased that he’d punched Murdock – the man’s a pig.”

Craig knew exactly what she meant.

“After I checked the baby, I went to see if Mr Hill was OK. But he just said he was going to kill me. Murdock had disappeared with his bloody nose, and then the security men arrived. Murdock called them. I was really pissed-off about that. We didn’t need them. We could have calmed Mr Hill down ourselves. The poor man didn’t need manhandling when his daughter had just died.”

She gasped for breath and wiped her face with her ragged sleeve. Sandi gently put a tissue in her hand. Craig leaned forward and smiled at her kindly.

“You saved the baby by your quick actions. Dr Stevens says she’s beautiful,”

Beth blew her nose loudly. “But why has it happened again? Evie was such a nice wee girl and so excited about the baby. Who would do this? What sort of animals are they? I’m going home to Derry the first chance I get. Nice people don’t behave this way.”

“We don’t know who yet. But I promise you we’ll find out.”

“I can’t keep working here, or anywhere as a midwife now. That’s three of my patients dead in less than six months.”

It was a stark truth. And although Craig recognised that her guilt had nothing to do with being a murderer, he had to be certain. He made a note to question her about the two earlier deaths. But not today - she was exhausted.

“D.S McElroy will contact you to take your statement about the other two cases. But I think that’s enough for today. You should go home and rest. And if you don’t mind me saying so, please don’t drink anything more, you’ll only feel worse. Believe me, I know. Thank you for coming in, Ms Walker.”