Alan was silent. I looked at him and his face looked weary. And worried. ‘So,’ he said at last. ‘Our villain has two options. He can close down his operation, take his profits, and scarper. Or—’
‘Or, if he’s not quite ready to do that, he can make sure Sammy doesn’t talk. And there’s really only one way to do that.’
Alan picked up his phone, but before he could make a call, it rang in his hand.
He listened, saying only ‘yes’ and ‘no’ and ‘right away’. He clicked off, biting his lip.
‘Bad news, darling. Sammy fell into the big pool at the Baths. They got him out, but they’re not sure they can save him. I told Rob we’d meet him there.’
I had my raincoat on and we were out the door before he even finished speaking.
Alan drove very close to the Baths and parked in a spot which was quite clearly forbidden. A constable was at his door before he even shut off the engine. Alan waved his warrant card. ‘We’re here at Inspector Roberts’ request. Would you like my keys, in case you must move the car for an emergency vehicle?’
‘Oh. No, sir, it’s just that … no, sir. It will be fine here.’
Rob came striding toward us, looking grim. ‘Sammy’s been taken to hospital. The prognosis isn’t good.’
‘The water surely isn’t deep enough to drown in, is it?’
Alan didn’t let Rob answer. ‘Dorothy, you know better than that. It’s about a metre and a half deep, but a person can drown in a bathtub. People have done. And even setting that aside, this water is so polluted that one could die just from ingesting it, am I right, Rob?’
‘Unfortunately, yes. Sammy can’t swim, and apparently he floundered about for some time, screaming and choking.’
‘“Apparently”?’
‘There were no witnesses that we can deem reliable. Most of the visitors were part of a large school group, aged ten and eleven. As you would expect, Alan, their accounts vary wildly. The two adults with them aren’t much more help. Their attention, naturally, was on their own charges. They heard a splash, but the kids rushed to the edge of the water and blocked the adults’ view.’
‘And I suppose no one saw, or will admit to seeing, how Sammy happened to fall in.’ Alan was sounding more and more grim.
‘No.’
That was all, but it spoke volumes. ‘What I’d like to know, Rob, is what Sammy was even doing here at this time of day. He wasn’t working in the shop. We went to see his grandmother earlier this afternoon, and she was expecting him home from another job about half an hour ago.’
‘We’d like to know that, too. We have the same information from Mrs Campbell. We phoned her, of course, the moment we found out about it, and she was already worried about him, because he hadn’t come home. Apparently he was very good about that sort of thing.’
Yes, I thought, he would be. He would have a routine and stick to it, and be upset if anything didn’t go according to plan.
‘He was meeting someone,’ I said with certainty. ‘Probably the one who is at the back of all the thefts.’
Rob looked around. ‘Not here. Come to my car.’
I would rather have repaired to the nearby pub, but I took his point. We needed to have assured privacy if we were to discuss theories and possibilities.
‘All right,’ he said when we were settled. ‘You talked with the grandmother. Did you come up with anything?’
‘We learned a lot about his background. Nobody wanted him, poor kid. His father opted out when Sammy’s disability became evident, very early in his infancy. The mother had a nervous breakdown or something, so she was also out of the picture. That’s when the grandparents took over, and Sammy finally got some love. Both Mr and Mrs Campbell cared deeply for him. Oh, Rob, it’s going to kill her if Sammy doesn’t …’ I couldn’t say any more through the lump in my throat, so Alan took over.
‘Mrs Campbell, like everyone we’ve talked to who knows Sammy, has noticed the change in his behaviour. From being utterly happy and content with his life, she saw him becoming secretive, even sly. That’s an inference; she didn’t use that word. She did say, quite specifically, that if her grandson was up to something – her phrase – he wouldn’t tell her, because she’s an authority figure.’
‘Stern? Strict?’
‘No,’ Alan and I said together. ‘Just the normal instinct of a child, as Sammy still is in many ways, to hide from a parent anything that might be a trifle dodgy.’
‘So you and Gran think there is something dodgy?’
‘And so do you,’ I said flatly. ‘You think he was pushed into that pool to keep him from spilling the beans.’
‘And exactly what beans are we talking about?’ Rob asked cautiously.
I related the plot Alan and I had deduced: Sammy as innocent tool of someone who had befriended him in order to use him as a thief. ‘And now that he’s been acting upset, his so-called friend is going to think he’s likely to tell somebody about his woes. And that means it’s time for friend to take off, or take action. And I’m very much afraid …’ I lost it again.
‘All right. I wanted to make sure we were on the same wavelength. I am operating on exactly the same assumptions. It’s very likely that Sammy was pushed into the pool. With a large school group in the room, it would have been easy to do that unobserved. The staff keep a close eye on children, who are apt to ignore the rules and try to touch the water with hands or toes, or even to jump in. Adult visitors are not always so closely observed.
‘Our villain almost certainly planned it that way. Wait for a large school group to appear. The Great Bath is usually the last stop for such a group. That would have given him or her plenty of time to call Sammy and arrange a meeting.’
‘Does Sammy have a mobile?’ I asked.
‘Don’t know. Probably. Almost everyone does. But even if not, our villain probably knows his work schedule and could call whatever shop he was working in today.’
There didn’t seem to be much else to say. Rob would of course check on the phone situation. Mrs Campbell would know. Meanwhile … ‘Can we visit Sammy?’
‘He’s unconscious, and in any case, no one will be able to see him until he gets out of the trauma unit. His grandmother is with him there.’
‘Can we call and find out how he’s doing?’
Rob shook his head. ‘They won’t tell you anything at this stage. You’ve dealt with hospitals; you know how they are. I was able to ferret out a few meagre bits of information about Andrew Williams because he’s one of our lot, or nearly.’
‘You’ve assigned someone to keep watch,’ Alan said. It wasn’t quite a question.
‘Yes, as we believe he’s in danger. Our resources are growing thin, though. I’ve had to remove Andrew’s guard.’
This was depressing news. ‘Perhaps, Dorothy, we should visit him. He might welcome the company, and might remember more about his incident.’
‘I’m going to the station now. The hospital’s on the way. Would you like me to drive you?’
‘No, as I’m parked quite illegally, I’d best move my car before someone tows it away. Perhaps we’ll see you there.’
‘Shall we go straight to the hospital?’ Alan asked when he had driven away from his illegal parking spot, to the relief of the constable on duty. ‘Or would you rather stop for a meal?’
‘I don’t think I could manage food at this point. And it’s getting late. I don’t want to miss hospital visiting hours.’
We got there with a half-hour to spare before they closed the doors to visitors.
TWENTY-TWO
Andrew was sitting in his recliner, in pyjamas and bathrobe rather than a hospital gown, and looked much more like himself.
‘That was fast!’ I said when he’d greeted us. ‘This morning you looked like death warmed over.’
‘Always complimentary, my wife,’ Alan said with a grimace. ‘Are you feeling as much better as you look?’
‘I am, sir. There’s no real reason for me to be h
ere. The pain in the arm is manageable without opiates, and the rest works out to only cuts and bruises. I’ve had worse in a rugby scrum.’
‘Are they planning to let you go home soon, then?’ I realized I had no idea where Andrew lived, or what his domestic arrangements were. Married? Family? Or was he still living with his Jamaican parents?
‘I think they’re trying to work out the details of that. I live alone, you see, and they seem to think I might need some help managing with only one arm.’
That word alone set alarm bells ringing for me, and I could see, for Alan, too. He frowned.
‘Andrew, you certainly ought not to be alone for the next few days. Have you a friend you could bunk in with?’
‘I have very few close friends. It’s kind of you to be concerned, Mr Nesbitt, but I’ll be able to cope … Oh.’ He stopped at the look on Alan’s face. ‘You’re not thinking of my coordination, are you?’
‘Not principally, no. I am thinking that your ability to defend yourself is severely compromised without a usable right hand.’
‘And you believe I will have need to defend myself.’
‘Oh, c’mon, Andrew! Stop being so cautious. You know perfectly well that the collision yesterday was an attempt to kill you. Rather an inept attempt, true, but it might have succeeded if you had been a less skilled driver. And you know Inspector Roberts ordered a guard for you because he was worried another attempt might be made, here in the hospital.’
‘The guard has been called off.’
‘Yes, because he was needed elsewhere.’ I raised my eyebrows at Alan; he nodded. ‘Andrew, do you know Sammy? I don’t know his last name. Campbell, I assume.’
‘Everyone knows Sammy. Everyone loves Sammy.’
‘Someone doesn’t. An attempt was made this afternoon to kill him, and’ – I swallowed hard – ‘and it may well succeed.’
‘He— What happened?’ Andrew’s face had gone that pasty grey again.
‘He fell or was pushed into the Great Bath. He can’t swim. He’s in the trauma unit here, under guard.’
‘And he can’t tell how it happened?’
‘He’s unconscious.’
‘Witnesses?’ Andrew was already thinking like a policeman.
‘None that are of any use. Schoolchildren.’
‘So,’ I pursued, ‘we’ve had two attempts at murder, all, we believe, connected with the peculiar series of thefts. At home, alone, you’d be a sitting duck and you know it. If we lived here, we’d be glad to put you up, but we don’t.’
Alan looked at his watch. ‘They’re going to turf us out of here in another ten minutes. I’ll speak to the staff about your housing problem on the way out, but meanwhile I want you to tell us anything you remember about your collision yesterday. First, was there a passenger in the Rolls?’
‘No. I’d made my last run for the day and was headed back to the hotel.’
‘And that run was?’
‘A regular one. One of the hotel guests stays every other month for at least three weeks at a time. He works for a multinational and spends all day at their corporate headquarters out Batheaston way. Nice chap, but he doesn’t like to drive, so I drive him there every morning and pick him up every evening.’
‘Always at the same time, or do his hours vary?’
‘He’s one of the managers, so he calls the shots and leaves on the dot of six, every day.’
‘And always comes back to the hotel, or do you sometimes take him to a restaurant or elsewhere?’
‘Always the hotel. So yes, anyone observant could know exactly where I’d be in the early evening when he’s in town. In case he wanted to stage an “accident”.’
‘Yes, that was one point. And the other, quickly, is this: do you recall anything at all about the driver of the car that hit you?’
He grinned wryly. ‘Very little. I’m afraid I’m not at my best when I’m about to be smashed to a jelly. I saw the car coming like a bat out of hell. I couldn’t hope to get out of its way, so I did the only thing I could: sped up, hard, and turned farther to the right to try to save myself and perhaps the bonnet. All I remember of the driver is his hands, clutching the steering wheel, and something white, a hat, I suppose. And then everything disappeared until I woke up here.’
‘And here is where you’re going back to sleep, young man.’ The nurse had appeared at Alan’s shoulder, looking at her watch and tapping her foot.
‘One more moment, sister.’ Alan diplomatically elevated her probable rank. ‘Andrew, you said “his hands”. Was there something distinctively male about the hands?’
Andrew thought about that. ‘No, I don’t think so. Only the attitude, the hands clenched in fury. And even that may be something I’m editing in.’
‘All right, don’t worry about it. Get some rest, and we’ll hope you’re out of here soon.’
‘But where are they going to put him?’ I asked anxiously as we walked toward the nurses’ station. ‘He absolutely must not go home alone.’
‘No. It’s a pity he can’t stay with a friend.’
‘I don’t understand why such a pleasant, intelligent man doesn’t have close friends.’
‘I suspect he hasn’t had time to get to know many people. Remember he’s working most of the time, and studying the rest. And he’s a somewhat reserved man. At any rate, we can’t deal with it right now, love. We have to try to find the man a temporary home.’
The nurses directed him to one of the hospital offices, where an unprepossessing young man was slumped in front of a computer screen, scanning a list of names and addresses. ‘Yes?’ he said in an unwelcoming voice.
‘I believe you’re trying to find a place for Andrew Williams to stay when he is discharged,’ said Alan.
‘Among other things.’
‘I have a suggestion,’ I said, surprising Alan and even myself. ‘I thought of it just now.’ I looked at the nametag pinned crookedly to his shirt pocket. ‘Everett, there is another patient in this hospital, a man named Sammy Campbell. Well, Samuel, I suppose. He’s still in ICU, I think – the trauma unit, I mean. He lives with his grandmother. He’s probably going to be in the hospital for quite some time. How would it be if I ask Mrs Campbell if Andrew could stay with her until Sammy comes home?’ If he ever does, I added mentally. Please, God!
He shrugged. ‘Doesn’t hurt to ask.’
‘They won’t let me in down there, though. It’s past visiting hours, and anyway, they never let anyone but family visit in the trauma unit. Do you suppose you could call and set it up for me?’ You callous slug, you. I didn’t say that either.
He was so bored with his job, and so resentful at being asked to do something, that he very nearly refused outright, but Alan said, ‘Please do that. Now.’ Something about his commanding tone of voice got through the lethargy. The man picked up the phone, made a call, mumbled something, and was about to hang up when Alan said, ‘Let me talk to them, please.’
He took the phone from the limp hand. ‘This is Chief Constable Alan Nesbitt. To whom am I speaking?’
Oh, my. When he went all official like that, and used his old title, I knew he was going to get what he wanted.
When he hung up, he thanked the young man, and then said, ‘I’m going to give you a piece of advice. It’s a mistake to carry on in a job you hate. Muster some enthusiasm for what you’re doing, or find work elsewhere. The patients and staff of this hospital deserve better.’
As we went down to the ground floor, I said, ‘I’ve never heard you sound so tart.’
‘One has a responsibility not to tolerate poor service. When a person is being paid to work, it’s reasonable to expect work from him. That chap has never actually worked in his life, I’ll wager. Here we are.’
The waiting room for the trauma unit was like such waiting rooms anywhere: full of fear and weariness. Mrs Campbell was sitting in a corner, looking twenty years older than when we had left her earlier.
She looked up as we approached, but gave u
s no look of recognition.
I took a deep breath. ‘Mrs Campbell, we visited you this afternoon, asking about Sammy.’
‘Oh. Yes.’
‘How … how is he?’ I was almost afraid to ask.
‘Not good. He’s still unconscious. They’re keeping him in a coma to give him a better chance.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. I do remember now who you are. You care about Sammy.’
‘Deeply, Mrs Campbell. So can you tell me: did he inhale a good deal of water?’
‘He did. They say he would have drowned if he had not been pulled out so quickly. He panicked, you see. He can’t swim.’
‘Yes, the police officer at the scene told us that.’
‘Did they tell you he still might … might not recover? The water itself is terribly dangerous, and he swallowed a lot of it. They won’t know for a day or two how it might affect him. They’re giving him antibiotics, of course, but even if he doesn’t develop something serious, he may be in hospital for quite some time.’ She forced her voice to stop trembling. ‘The house is going to seem empty without him.’
‘Mrs Campbell, you’ll think me terribly presumptuous, but I have an idea about that. There is another young man in this hospital right now. He was in a car smash yesterday, but he’s not badly hurt except for a broken right arm. He’s ready to go home. However, he lives alone, and the hospital fears he will not be able to cope well with only one hand. He knows and loves Sammy, as does almost everyone in Bath. So I’m wondering …’ I swallowed and continued. ‘Is there any chance you could let Andrew stay with you until Sammy is well enough to come home? He’d be company for you. He’s an awfully nice person, polite and kind.’
She looked from one of us to the other. ‘There’s more to the story, isn’t there?’
Alan nodded. ‘There is. We, that is the police, believe that Andrew’s accident was no such thing, that it was a deliberate attempt to injure or kill him. And you may know that we also believe Sammy was pushed into the pool. You might be risking some danger by taking Andrew into your home.’
‘So the killer may try again. Is that the real reason you don’t want him living alone?’
The Bath Conspiracy Page 17