by L M Krier
‘What’s your point about that?’ Ted asked him.
‘Well, sir, I’ve done some first aid training, and isn’t one of the things they drum into you the need to do a risk assessment? Making the scene safe and preventing further injury? Again, he’s a paramedic. If he had to run outside for his phone, why didn’t he first remove the knife? Take it with him, perhaps? In case his wife came round and decided to finish the job off?’
‘Would he be thinking straight, though? He’d just found his son dead, after all. Seemingly murdered by his wife.’
‘A trained, serving paramedic?’ Steve said, in a scornful tone which, from anyone else, would have been questionable. ‘Wouldn’t he go into autopilot mode initially? Maybe fall apart later on? But at that stage, from what he told the first responders, his wife was still alive. Even if he hated her for what she’d done, wouldn’t he want her kept alive? So she could stand trial, at least?’
‘So are you saying he killed her? How could he have done that, if he was outside with the police? It should be fairly simple, at the post-mortem, to tell roughly when the various wounds occurred, in relation to one another, I would imagine.’
Steve hesitated, clearly unsure of his ground now.
‘If you have a theory, Steve, I hope you know I’ll listen to it. I might not agree, but I will certainly listen and give it full consideration.’
‘It sounds far-fetched.’
‘The truth is often far-fetched. Try me.’
Steve paused. Took a deep breath, then plunged on.
‘What if he drugged his wife? What if he killed the boy, for some reason, while she was unconscious, from the drug? Then he set it up to make it look like she’d done it, by cutting her wrist to look like a suicide attempt. He’d know how much of an injury he could inflict without risking killing her. A cut like that one, across the wrist, isn’t often fatal. You need to do it the length of the arm, open up the blood vessels. And preferably do it in warm water so the bleeding carries on.
‘That’s why I wanted to get a pathologist here, to view the scene and take blood and other samples. If he did use a drug, it might be a short-acting one, like GHB.’
‘We’re still stuck with the problem of her seemingly having died while he was outside with two police officers as his witnesses. How does that work, then?’
Steve was quiet again, seemingly reluctant to go on.
‘You clearly do have a theory, Steve. I’m willing to listen to it, at least,’ Ted encouraged him.
When Steve began to speak again, his tone was bitter. He wouldn’t look at Ted. His eyes stayed glued to the dashboard of the car as he sat in the driver’s seat.
‘If you tell someone repeatedly that they’re worthless, not fit to look after their own son, everyone would be better off without them, they can start to believe it. Especially if they have low self-esteem to start with.
‘Supposing he did drug her. Something short-acting, because timing was critical to his plan. She comes round to find her son dead, her with a knife in her hand and one apparent attempt at killing herself. He might have spent years telling her she was unfit to be a mother and would do something like that one day, and then she wakes up to the reality that she has. Apparently. Then surely she would go ahead and kill herself? That’s why we need blood tests. Before it’s too late.’
Ted was quiet for a long moment, weighing up what Steve had said. It was possibly the most far-fetched theory he’d ever heard. But one or two of the things which Steve had flagged up had already jumped out at him at the scene.
‘Even if you’re right, Steve, I have no idea if we could make a murder case against him. Drugging her and tampering with the crime scene is something we might be able to prove, but I doubt we could pin the boy’s death on him. If, and it’s a very big if, he did kill the boy, he would almost certainly have cleaned his own prints from the knife and made sure his wife’s were the last ones on it. At the moment, with no pathologist available, it looks like an impossibility to do all the necessary tests for drugs. Especially short-acting ones. It would need a miracle.
‘You go back inside and carry on. Leave me the keys to lock the car. This looks like a nice enough neighbourhood, but I don’t want to take any risks. I need to make a phone call. I’m going to see if there’s any truth in the old saying, “The impossible we do today”.’
Ted got his phone out as Steve walked back to the house. His call was answered on the second ring. Professor Elizabeth ‘Bizzie’ Nelson’s voice, booming in his ear, didn’t sound in the least bit annoyed at being disturbed at home on a Sunday afternoon when she was still officially on leave.
‘Edwin! How lovely to hear from you. An unexpected pleasure.’
‘Bizzie, I’m really sorry to bother you at home, and I know you’re not officially back to work until tomorrow, but I really need some help. How was the …’ he hesitated a moment, still unsure whether a hippy-style handfasting was followed by a honeymoon, or if it was called something else. ‘… how was your trip to Scotland?’
‘Glorious,’ she enthused, ‘but I’m sure that’s not why you’re ringing. What can I do for you?’
Ted set out succinctly what Steve had told him. He realised as he said it how improbable it sounded, but added, ‘So if there is the remotest possibility that she was drugged, we’re clearly going to need samples taken as soon as possible.’
‘Goodness me! If you or I saw something like that on one of those ridiculous crime shows on television, I think we’d both be throwing things at the screen.
‘How much store do you set by this young member of your team?’
‘He has good intuition.’
His response clearly amused her, from the chuckle she gave.
‘Not a very convincing argument to someone of science.’
‘All right, this might carry a bit more weight. One or two of the things he’d spotted as being not quite right had already occurred to me as needing further examination and explanation.’
‘Right, well, Douglas is blissfully domesticated, although not a very adventurous cook, which is one of the reasons I allowed him to move in. So as your scene of crime is not far away, I shall leave him to unpack and put the washing on, feed Spilsbury, and prepare our supper. I will be with you in approximately fifteen minutes.’
True to her word, Bizzie Nelson arrived within a quarter of an hour. Ted had been keeping an eye out for her and went out to meet her. She was driving a car he didn’t recognise, probably that belonging to her new partner. Again he was unsure of the correct terminology following a handfasting. He needed to check such things with Trev.
The Professor stretched as she got out of the car.
‘It’s a long old drive down from the Highlands. But your case sounds intriguing and it’s practically on my doorstep, so I couldn’t resist.’
She was looking round as she stood there, at the house, now a crime scene, and at the neighbouring properties.
‘A nice property. Not cheap, I imagine. A paramedic, you said? Not paid for by his wages, I’d guess. Private means? Or inherited, perhaps?’
Ted smiled. She was voicing one of the first things which had gone through his own mind when he’d arrived at the scene. He’d already made himself a note to get that checked out, in case it proved to be relevant.
‘Is he still here, the husband and father?’
‘In the area car with a PC, one of the first responders who was with him when they gained entry and found the wife and son, both dead. With no senior officer present, the decision couldn’t be made as to whether to arrest him for something or let him go somewhere for now.’
Bizzie gave him one of her looks as she started donning her coveralls from the back of the car.
‘As long as you realise that I’m not psychic, Edwin, and it’s highly improbable that I can give you any concrete answers based on initial observations. But if there is anything I can tell you, I will certainly do so.’
Ted followed her into the house, directing her
to where the bodies were, then introduced her and Steve to one another.
‘I hope the Chief Inspector has explained to you, DC Ellis, that I am not a miracle worker. I’ve come to look at the scene because I live locally and was available. But it’s unlikely I will have a sudden lightbulb moment, such as might be seen on the telly, and be able to confirm your suspicions. I can only go off scientific findings.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Steve began, before she interrupted him.
‘Oh, please don’t call me ma’am, I’m neither a serving police officer nor royalty. Professor is fine.’
Steve flushed and apologised hastily, before he went on, speaking rapidly, unsure of himself.
‘I was wondering about the possibility that the mother was drugged. If everything is not as it seems at first glance, that might explain a few things. And I know testing for some drugs is time-critical, which is why I raised it with the DCI.’
‘Again, despite what you might see on TV, I can’t pinpoint the time of death with any precise accuracy. It’s often easier to do it from other factors. How long ago was she found, for instance?’
‘13.37, Professor,’ Steve informed her.
She was wearing a wristwatch and consulted it at his words. ‘Nearly four hours ago. Theoretically, traces of some drugs should still be eminently detectable. I can certainly take samples now, but I can’t, of course, guarantee when it will be possible for the lab to analyse them.
‘Tell me what makes you think that all is not as it seems, DC Ellis.’
Much more hesitantly, Steve went over what he’d told Ted earlier. The Professor didn’t look at him, sensing his unease. She concentrated on examining the two bodies as he spoke. Once he’d finished, she said, ‘Well, if anyone were to consult me to see if that would make a plausible basis for a television drama, I would tell them it was ludicrous.
‘However, you are very observant, DC Ellis. At first glance – and I stress that this is in no way based on anything at all scientific – that initial wound to the wrist raises some questions in my mind. Ones to which I will only have the answers once I complete the autopsy and have the results of all the subsequent tests back from the lab, I’m afraid.
‘All of which means, Chief Inspector, that the decision on what to do with the husband for the moment rests entirely on your shoulders.’
The husband was still sitting in the area car with PC Ron Hardy. Ted went over to the vehicle and slid into the back seat.
‘I’m so sorry you’ve been kept waiting all this time. I’m Detective Chief Inspector Darling, the senior officer in attendance. We need to take a detailed statement from you as soon as possible, and I wondered if you would have any objection to that being done at the station? Once there, purely as a matter of procedure, we would ask to take the clothing you’re currently wearing for forensic testing, largely for elimination purposes, in case it can help the investigation.
‘Clearly you won’t be able to go back into the house until further notice, so do you have somewhere you can stay, for tonight, at least? If there’s anything at all you need from inside, I can get one of the officers to bring things out for you.’
‘No, you’re all right, I always keep an overnight bag in the boot of my car, in case ever I have to pull a double shift. I can go and get that.’
‘I’d prefer it if you gave the keys to PC Hardy to get the bag for you. Again, it’s purely routine.’
The man had turned to face Ted when he’d first spoken. There was a fleeting change in his expression, then he said smoothly, ‘I just remembered. I took it out last night to sort out what was in it, and I don’t think I put it back in. If you ask someone to grab stuff like my shaving kit and a change of clothes from in the house, that will be fine. Thank you.’
‘And what about your car? Would you like an officer to put it into the garage for you, or the driveway, at least? For security?’
This time the answer was swift. Almost glib.
‘No, you’re fine. I locked it. I remember doing that. After I’d found my phone and called the police. Before I went to try to break in. I know I locked it.’
Chapter Eighteen
Ted’s mobile rang as he drove back to the station. Jo Rodriguez, sounding mortified.
‘Ted, I’m so sorry to have let you down ...’
‘It’s fine, Jo. How’s Mateo?’
‘Poor little sod. He was in so much pain. A really nasty fracture-dislocation, so it needed surgery and he’s going to be in a few nights, at least. I didn’t dare phone the mother of my children. Between you and me, she’s not the greatest driver in the world at the best of times. The prospect of her driving back with the three girls in the car, in a hell of a state about Mateo, really didn’t bear thinking about.
‘But I am sorry I ruined your day off. Is Trev ever likely to forgive you?’
‘He’s threatening to have an affair with an architect. He reckons their hours may be a bit more reliable than mine. It’s going to cost me an expensive dinner out one night this week, but a bottle of a decent red wine should smooth the way in the meantime.’
‘So what have we got? Rob briefly mentioned a murder-suicide but then I had to rush off and sign forms of consent for surgery and such like.’
‘I’m almost back at the nick, so I’m going to have to call you back later. Steve’s doing a grand job at the scene. He’s spotted some possible inconsistencies, so I’m going to talk to the husband to get a few details. A basic witness statement, to start with. We’ll have a catch-up as soon as I’ve done that. You concentrate on Mateo for now.’
As instructed by Ted, the husband of the deceased woman had been given coveralls to replace his work clothes which had been taken for examination. Then he’d been shown into the vulnerable witness room, where PC Hardy had given him a drink and was waiting with him for the DCI to arrive. In response to Ted’s nod, he stayed where he was.
‘I’m sorry you’ve been kept waiting. All of this is merely routine which needs to be followed. Firstly, do you have somewhere you can stay for the time being, until the examination of your house is finished?’
The man was leaning forward, legs slightly apart, his elbows resting on his knees. He raised his hands to his face. Made a rubbing movement over his eyes and forehead, as if marshalling his thoughts.
‘Yes, I have a brother in Denton, I can go there. I called him while I was waiting.’
‘Once we’ve finished, I’ll arrange for someone to drive you there,’ Ted told him.
The man looked up sharply at that.
‘I could go and get the car and take that.’
‘I think perhaps for the moment, it might be better if you didn’t visit the scene. Not until we finish everything we need to do there. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.’
The husband’s expression was suspicious at that. Ted tried to keep his face neutral. He was thinking of how keen the man seemed to have been not to let anyone near his car.
Then the man slowly shook his head from side to side a few times, as if to clear it, and went on, ‘Yes, sorry, of course. I understand. I’ve attended violent deaths before, as a paramedic. You never really expect it’s going to happen to you. To your family. It’s hard to get your head round.’
‘First of all, let me stress that you’re being interviewed purely as a witness. It’s always very helpful to us if we can get an accurate statement as soon as possible after an incident like this. Would you have any objection to me recording what you say, and taking notes?’
‘Whatever it takes. I just want it all to be over. Nothing’s going to bring either of them back.’
‘Thank you. First of all, was your son an only child?’
‘Twins,’ the man told him. ‘He’s … he was … a twin. It was a very difficult and protracted birth and the hospital totally screwed it up. I kept telling them something wasn’t right but they wouldn’t listen to me. Why would a mere paramedic know better than an Obs and Gynae consultant?
‘Our son was born firs
t. Slight hypoxia left him with minor brain damage. He has … had … frequent headaches, some lack of concentration, and some anger management issues. His sister was starved of oxygen for much longer. She has severe brain damage. Far beyond the state where my wife and I could look after her at home. She’s been in full-time care since she was born and is likely to remain there for as long as she lives, which is, according to the experts, an indeterminate period.’
He paused to take a drink of the water the PC had provided for him. Ted sat in patient silence, waiting for him to be able to continue. When he seemed to have recovered his composure, Ted asked him, ‘How did your wife cope with such a traumatic experience?’
‘Not well, especially to start with,’ the man told him. ‘Neither of us did, really. You hear of people being badly let down by the system, of course. But you never imagine it affecting you. My wife was very ill for quite some time after the birth. Not just from the after-effects of such a bungled delivery, but she suffered from such severe post-natal depression that she was unable to do anything much.
‘She missed the chance to bond with our son and she never saw our daughter. Couldn’t at the time and has refused to ever since. I go, occasionally, although it’s pretty pointless. She has no idea who I am. No cognitive abilities at all. Not quite vegetative, but not far off. They get her up every day at the home but she has no speech, no awareness. She simply … exists.
‘My wife could never bring herself to see her. As if, in some sense, she blamed herself, although that was rubbish, of course. It wasn’t her fault.
‘I took action against the hospital. They admitted liability. There wasn’t much they could say in their defence. They were negligent and they knew it. It’s not what it was about, but we did win significant damages against them. It’s invested to provide proper care for life for our daughter. But it also bought us a nice home, because I thought that might help the wife to get over it all a bit. A fresh start.’
‘And how has your wife been recently? Did she ever talk about harming herself? Did her general state of mind give you any cause to be worried?’