Under Parr

by Andrea Bramhall

  “Someone stealing the patients’ drugs.” Tom stuffed his own note in the pot. “They’re all dying because they’re not getting their blood pressure pills and laxatives,” he added with a smirk.

  “Nice,” Jimmy said.

  Kate and Stella groaned. “There’s always someone who has to lower the tone.” Stella slapped Tom across the back of the head while he kept on grinning. “Will you ever grow up?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “I’m going with drugs as well,” Jimmy said, adding his own cash to the mug. “But I reckon they’re buying in cheap fakes to line someone’s pockets.”

  “That’s basically the same as mine, numb nuts,” Tom protested.

  “Hey, no it isn’t. My idea was much more developed than yours. And made no mention of laxatives.”

  Kate sniggered. Sometimes it was like working with nursery-school kids. “All right, knock it off. You both reckon it’s drug related.” She shrugged. “Talk about one-track minds.” She finished to a round of righteous anger. “What about you, Stella? Do you want a slice of the action?”

  Stella bit her lip. “I’m going with natural causes.”

  Tom and Jimmy groaned and Stella held up her hands.

  “I reckon an outbreak of a norovirus is killing them off ’cos the chef doesn’t wash his hands after he goes to the loo.”

  Tom cackled. “And you accused me of lowering the tone.”

  Stella tucked her tenner in the mug. “I didn’t mention any nasty bodily functions, and used the correct medical name. No tone lowering going on there, Detective Constable Brothers.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that, sarge,” Tom said with a final snicker.

  “Timmons isn’t going to like it,” Stella said.

  “Who would?” Tom asked.

  “True. Right, we’ve got a lot of work to do, kiddies.” Stella rubbed her hands together. “So we’d best be at it. Kate, do you want to take Collier with you and go see Doc Anderson? Get her to pull the post-mortems on the residents of the nursing home and see what she can find.”

  “No problem.”

  “Tom, Jimmy, we’ll start working our way around the employees with the picture while we wait and see if the databases come up with a match.”

  “On it, sarge.” Tom tapped Jimmy on the shoulder as he passed him, heading for the door.

  Collier was coming in as they left. He scowled at Tom as the two of them offered a paltry wave and let the door slam shut behind them.

  Boys. “We thought you could come with me this afternoon,” Kate said. “We thought seeing a different approach would be of benefit to you.”

  He sneered. “So he’s given up, has he? Well, fine. I wasn’t learning anything from him anyway.”

  Kate smiled. Oh, this was going to be fun. Not. “Come on, then. I’ll fill you in while I drive.” She followed him out of the room and looked back over her shoulder at Stella. “You owe me big for this one,” she mouthed before carrying on behind him.

  She quickly filled him in on the details as she drove the twenty-minute journey to King’s Lynn’s hospital. The car park was busy, and it took her several circuits of the tarmac expanse to find an empty spot.

  Collier climbed out before she’d put on the handbrake and was back with a parking ticket for her windscreen by the time she’d turned off the engine and grabbed her jacket off the back seat.

  “Thanks.” She stuck it on the glass.

  “No worries.” He bounced on the balls of his feet a little as he waited for her.

  He’s like a kid who can’t keep still. “This way.” She led him up the small slope and along a path that cut between the two banks of trees that blocked the front of the hospital from the view of the road. Kate wasn’t sure if they were there to save the eyes of the patients from having to look out on to the housing estate of identical houses, in identical rows, down identical streets, or if they were there to save the residents from having to look upon the eyesore that was the Queen Elizabeth II Hospital. Either way, poor trees.

  The main entrance was a bustling hub of activity. People sat in uncomfortable chairs waiting for appointments that should have happened two hours ago. Patients were wheeled on huge beds from ward to ward, moved like pieces on a chessboard at the whim of an overseeing hand. The small essentials shop had a queue out of the door as the volunteer shop assistant tried to keep up with the demand for newspapers, fizzy drinks, biscuits, and tissues. The aroma from the coffee shop made Kate’s mouth water and she steered them in that direction.

  “One grande cappuccino please,” she said when she got to the counter. “You?” she asked Collier.

  “Oh, same please.” He smiled at the barista.

  “Actually, make that three, please.” She handed her the cash. “Doc Anderson might be more amenable to what I’m going to be asking of her if I turn up with a little gift to grease the wheels.”

  “Bribing a government official?” Collier said. “Whatever next, sergeant?”

  Kate chuckled. “Whatever the case demands, my friend. Whatever the case demands.” She accepted her cup and took a grateful sip, careful to avoid burning her mouth. “Oh, that’s good. You okay with the spare?”

  He nodded and picked up the other two cups.

  “So, Collier? What’s your first name?” Kate led him down the long corridors as they wound in a predictable yet maze-like pattern through the hospital until they reached the morgue. She tapped on the door before pushing it open and held the door open for them both.

  “Gareth.”

  “You okay if I use that, or do you prefer Collier?”

  “No, I prefer Gareth.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “So do I.”

  He blushed a little and stepped through the door.

  “Anybody home?” Kate called into the room.

  “Through here.”

  Kate followed the voice and found Ruth Anderson at a large desk covered in stacks of medical files and a computer. She had a pencil stuck through her ponytail, and her normally pristine white lab coat was covered in an array of stains that Kate didn’t want to think about.

  “We come bearing gifts, doc.” Kate pointed as Gareth put the cup down on the desk before the harried-looking woman.

  “Oh, bless you.” She picked it up, took a big swallow, and closed her eyes as she clearly enjoyed the caffeine hit. “Hm. Heaven.” She took another big swallow and waved them into seats. “My predecessor told me to beware detectives bringing gifts. But I think I’ll risk it. What can I do for you today?”

  Kate took a page from her pocket and handed it over. “These are names of all the people who have died at Brancombe House Nursing Home in the past three years.”

  Ruth’s eyes widened as she flipped the pages over. “This is only three years?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. Busy place.”

  “So we understand. We were wondering if it was perhaps a little too busy.”

  “Ah. I see.” Ruth placed the page on her desk. “I’ll pull the files and take a look. Am I looking for anything specifically?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the page.

  “Don’t know.”

  “Does this have anything to do with our unidentified skeleton?”

  “Yes. The dentures and clothes he was wearing all came from this nursing home. I’m certain he did too, but there’s no missing persons record. Nothing that matches the description of our victim, and nothing made by anyone associated with this place.”

  “Curious.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And nobody recognises the picture?”

  “We only got the reconstruction this morning. Stella and the boys are out asking about it now. Have you submitted your report about the bones yet?”

  “Not yet. I’ve been a little busy.”

  “Ah, good, good.”

  Ruth offered a conspiratorial smile. “Would you like me to refrain from sending it a little longer?”

  Kate grinned. “I
wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble, Ruth.”

  “I won’t. To be honest, I wanted to get a second opinion on the blood staining and a few other things I found on the bones before I submit it.”

  “You do?”

  Ruth nodded. “Yes. It just doesn’t sit right.”

  “None of this case does, Ruth. There’s something going on. I can feel it.”

  “In your gut?” Gareth asked with a slight sneer to his voice.

  “Yeah. It might sound old school or whatever, but I have a feeling. A lot of detectives get them from time to time, when they just know there’s more going on than the sum of the parts they’ve got in front of them.”

  “So, what do you do about it?” he asked.

  “We keep digging. Eventually we find the missing pieces.”

  Ruth lifted the page. “I’ll see if I can find you anything in this lot while I wait for my expert colleague to come and see the remains.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “He can’t get here until Tuesday, so you have five days, Kate.”

  “That’s more than I thought I’d get. Thanks.” She turned to Gareth. “See? I told you it pays to bring a woman gifts.”

  “In the police force, we call it bribing an official,” he jibed back.

  Kate smiled. “I knew there had to be a sense of humour in there somewhere, Gareth.” She held out a hand for him to shake. “Welcome to the team.”

  * * *

  Kate fished her car keys and phone out of her pocket. She tossed the keys to Gareth. “I just need to make a quick phone call. You go ahead and I’ll meet you back at the car.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind hanging around.”

  “Nah, shouldn’t take me long, but it’s not a work call.”

  “Got ya. Tell Gina I said hi.”

  Kate turned to look at him. “Actually, I wasn’t calling Gina right now.” She softened her tone with a smile. “But I’ll tell her next time I do speak to her.”

  He blushed again and walked away with his head down, muttering to himself.

  Two steps forward and all that. Kate clicked through a couple of screens on her phone and then connected to the number she wanted. “Hi, this is Detective Sergeant Kate Brannon, can you put me through to Jodi Mann, please?”

  “Of course. One moment please,” the syrupy voice said before the tinny sound of a poorly-produced piano playing the “Moonlight Sonata” filled Kate’s ears.

  The static over the line made some of the notes hard to hear, but she knew the piece well enough to fill them in. It was a beautiful piece of music that always reminded her of her grandmother. It was one she’d played over and over when Kate was growing up. She’d told her once that it had been Kate’s mother’s favourite. Kate could understand why. It was a haunting melody, and Kate found it rather bittersweet that it seemed she and her dead mother had such a thing in common.

  “Hello. Is that you, Kate?”

  “Hi, Jodi, thanks for taking my call.”

  “Not a problem. What can I do for you today?”

  “Do you have a space to see a new patient?”

  “We can always find someone to see—”

  “No, I think it needs to be you, Jodi.”

  There was a moment’s silence on the line.

  “Perhaps you better fill me in then.”

  “This woman was the victim of a knife attack six weeks ago.”

  “Was she badly hurt?”

  “No. The cuts were meant to cause pain, not seriously wound. They’ve healed now, but…” Kate knew she wouldn’t need to say any more. Jodi would understand what she meant.

  “Ah.”

  “Yes.”

  “Give me her number, I’ll get in touch and see if she wants to work with me.”

  Kate gave her the number. “Her name’s Gina. Gina Temple.”

  “And why now? What’s her impetus to work through her issues?”

  “A new relationship.”

  Jodi was quiet for a moment. “I see.” She cleared her throat. “Right, leave it with me, and I’ll call her this afternoon. You could give her a heads-up that I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’ll let her know. And, Jodi?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you. I know you’re always swamped, but she needs your help.”

  “And you need her, don’t you, Kate?”

  Jodi always did know how to filter things down. “Yes, I do.”

  Jodi was quiet again. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kate hung up and quickly typed a message to Gina before heading to the car.

  Gareth was waiting outside the vehicle with a grin on his face.

  “What?”

  He pointed to a parking attendant walking away from them. “She was going to give you a ticket.”

  “Why? I’ve paid for parking today. Well, you have.”

  “She said that’s the first time you’ve paid for your parking in all the time you’ve been coming here.”

  “Did you tell her we were on police business?”

  “Yeah. But I think she kinda enjoys the game. She’s trying to catch you out now. She was smiling when she gave me this for you.” He held out a parking ticket plastic envelope with a piece of paper inside it. Kate opened it gingerly and felt her cheeks warm. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Erm, her number.”

  Gareth burst out laughing.

  CHAPTER 12

  The room smelt of stale urine and bleach. It was small; the bed in the centre took up most of the space. There was a scuffed wardrobe set in the bottom corner, next to the window, and the dresser next to it had a TV on it. The man feeding soup to the woman on the bed seemed far more interested in the TV than he was in making sure the soup went in her mouth and not down her chin.

  Kate swallowed and tried to ignore the soggy strip of pasta clinging to the poor woman’s chin. The indignity that came with old age and failing health. It made her feel sick. She was grateful she hadn’t had to witness any of her loved ones decline like this. Even her gran in her battle with cancer had been strong up to the end. Probably why she popped off in the end. Couldn’t face the prospect of someone else wiping her arse for her.

  “Mr Warburton, could you take a look at this picture and tell me if you recognise this man?” Kate held out the page.

  He turned his head towards the page but his eyes didn’t leave the screen.

  “No, don’t know ’im.”

  Gareth picked up the TV control and clicked off the screen.

  “Hey, what’re you doing? Who do you think you are, pal?”

  “The police,” Gareth said. “Now, take a look at the picture and tell me if you recognise him.” He wiggled the remote. “Then I’ll put Jeremy Kyle back on for you.”

  Mr Warburton glared at him then looked at the picture. He squinted, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses, perched them on the end of his nose, and took the paper from Kate’s hand. He examined the image carefully while he scratched his jaw and rubbed his hand over his mouth.

  “He looks familiar.” He handed the page back to Kate. “But I couldn’t tell you where from.” He shrugged. “He looks like every old bloke you ever see, really.”

  Kate understood. There was very little that stood out about the man they were trying to identify. Perhaps in life it had been different. Perhaps there had been something about him that had made him stand out. But in death, he was the epitome of the grey man.

  “Thanks for your time,” she said and pulled open the door.

  She turned in time to see Gareth plucking a tissue from the box beside the woman’s bed and wiping the dribbled soup from her chin. He tossed the wad into the bin and handed the remote to Mr Warburton.

  “Maybe you should try keeping the TV off while you work.”

  “Why? She can’t talk to me.” He clicked the button. “Off her tits on painkillers. I’d go out of my box if I had to sit here in silence all day like the
se poor sods.”

  Kate shook her head in sadness at his attitude and a little in shock at the act of kindness from Gareth Collier. Perhaps the issues simply were a clash of personality with him and Tom Brothers. It was difficult to imagine anyone finding it difficult to work with Tom, but sometimes people just rubbed each other the wrong way. She had to admit she’d had her misgivings about working with the green detective, but he was making a pretty good show of himself so far.

  “So who do we have next?” she asked.

  “Jason Maxwell, thirty-two, lives in Docking.”

  “Hm. Like me. Whereabouts?”

  “Number 2, Prince William Terrace.”

  “Oh, one of the new builds at the other end of the village.”

  Gareth frowned. “The ones they knocked down the old pub to put up?”

  “Apparently.” Kate smiled. “They were already in the works when I bought my place. I’ve heard stories about the old pub though. Did you ever go there?”

  “Once. It was a party. Friend of a friend, you know.”

  “Is it true that there was a hole in the floor that the staff refused to repair so they could shout down when they needed more drinks upstairs?”

  Gareth laughed. “There was a hole in the floor. Staff didn’t use it, though. It had rotted through. It was so uneven, and water was dripping from a pipe somewhere. The only thing they did with that hole was put a bucket underneath it. It was a bloody death trap. It needed tearing down, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Sounds like it.” Kate wondered how much was exaggeration. Every story she heard about the Prince William Pub seemed more outlandish and farfetched than the last one.

  “Sister Lodge said he’d be in room twelve.” He pointed to the door at the end of the corridor. “Should be that one, I think.”

  Kate knocked and opened the door when a gentle voice called “Enter”.

  “Good afternoon, I’m Detective Sergeant Kate Brannon, and this is Detective Constable Gareth Collier.” She held out her hand.

  “Jason Maxwell.” His grip was firm, his hand cool, and the corded muscles in his forearm bunched visibly with each movement. “How can I help you today, Detectives?”

  “I understand you’ve worked here for a number of years?”

  “Yes. Fifteen years now.” He picked up a napkin and wiped the man’s chin he had been feeding. “Excuse me, Reg, I need to speak with these people.”