by Helen Phifer
Don’t drink too much and have fun. Love you xx
Repocketing the phone, Lucy looked around and noticed the field at the back of the asylum, which held an assortment of bright orange diggers and forklift trucks. Behind the vehicles were rows of wooden crosses. All of the vehicles were stationary. Lucy lifted her hand to squint and try to see what they were doing.
An elbow nudged her side. ‘Are you all right, boss?’
‘Yes, thank you. So, have we any news about the search teams?’
‘They should be here any minute,’ Mattie said. ‘There’s even a dog handler on shift today; she should be here shortly too. Hopefully the dog will pick up the trail and lead us straight to our point of entry. Both exits have been cordoned off and the workmen who are digging up the old cemetery have been sent home.’
‘The cemetery in that field? Did it belong to the asylum, then?’
‘It’s where they buried the patients. Some developer bought it years ago to build houses. Apparently they didn’t bother buying the hospital because it was in such a state, but they didn’t mind building next to it.’
Lucy looked at him, frowning. ‘They didn’t bother with the hospital, but have no problem digging up a cemetery? That can’t be cheap. Where are they putting the bodies?’
Mattie shrugged. ‘I don’t know everything. I just know that it caused quite an outrage with some of the older residents of the town. There were lots of upset people who had loved ones buried in there, and they didn’t want them disturbed, hence why it’s taken the developer so long to get around to it.’
‘I bet they didn’t. There are some things that you shouldn’t mess with, and moving people from their final resting places is pretty high on that list.’
Mattie shifted from one foot to another, trying to hide his unease. Lucy knew what he was going to ask her next and she wanted to tell him not to say a word. She didn’t need treating like a piece of fragile china.
‘I was, erm… just wondering how you are. I mean, how you’re holding up?’
‘I’m good thanks, you?’
‘Great, but that’s not quite what I meant…’
The arrival of the search teams stopped the conversation before it became any more difficult. Lucy went over to talk to them.
After she’d discussed how the search should be carried out, she went over to join Mattie at another, much smaller, van with ‘POLICE DOGS’ written across the side of it. He was standing with Kim, the dog handler.
‘I’m hoping Kim’s going to make everyone’s lives a whole lot easier,’ he told Lucy.
‘This a huge site to cover,’ Kim said, ‘but yes, fingers crossed we’ll find the killer’s point of entry and exit.’
‘I hope so,’ Mattie said. ‘Otherwise we’re going to be here until we retire.’
Kim unlatched the cage to let the huge black Labrador out. The pair of them set off, the dog sniffing around and straining at its lead, relieved to be released.
Lucy smiled at Mattie. ‘Looks like we’re almost good to go; as soon as the dog has finished, the search teams are going to go in and take a look. Blondie – the estate agent over there, currently messing up the leather seats in the Porsche with her leaky eyes – has requested someone from her office brings the blueprints for the entire building up, as well as all the information that they have regarding the hazardous parts. As soon as the search team has been in, I want to go back inside for another look.’
‘Should we not go back to the station? It’s going to take ages.’
Lucy shook her head. As tempted as she was, she couldn’t leave. When she turned back to look at the imposing, sad, neglected building, she felt as if she was being drawn back to it. She didn’t want to leave whoever their victim was lying all alone on that trolley in the dark any longer than she had to.
‘No, we can go in and help out with the search. In fact, that’s a good idea; let’s get as many staff as can be spared here now. We can let the task force sergeant brief them, and if we all go in together to do an initial search to make sure there are no more bodies, I’ll feel a lot happier.’
‘Do you think whoever did this knew that the estate agents would be showing potential buyers around, and left him there for them to find?’
‘I don’t know, Mattie. How long has it been for sale?’
‘At least a couple of years that I know of.’
‘It’s hard to say anything. There’s only one person who knows at the moment.’
‘Yeah, and I can’t see them coming forward to tell us the answer, can you?’
Lucy shook her head.
Finally, one of the estate agents arrived with the blueprints for the building. He was sent in the direction of the task force sergeant, James Roberts. Lucy had been thankful for small mercies to find that it was Robbo who was on shift, rather than the arse of a sergeant who had fucked up big-time three months ago.
There was a large group of officers assembled, all ready to go in and search, armed with torches and small yellow cones to place by any evidence they may come across. They were split up into small groups and each allocated a section of the building. By this time, the dog handler had found what they believed to be the killer’s point of entry. It was a small side door which was open, allowing access into the hospital. This had been sealed off and Jack Forbes, the lead crime scene investigator, was currently dusting for prints, footprints and DNA.
Jack’s partner both in and out of work, Amanda, had put down some metal plates leading from the front door into the foyer area. The search teams would use them to walk across to the different wings with minimal disturbance. The area surrounding the room where the body had been found had been taped off so that a thorough investigation could be carried out. Lucy didn’t envy the mammoth task that both Jack and Amanda faced; two more CSIs had been requested to be called in early to come and help them. Lucy hadn’t even given a second thought to the budget when she’d given Control the go-ahead to ring them at home. Everyone knew that time was of the essence, and they couldn’t afford to not bring in any extra help.
Robbo, as everyone called him, barked at the large group standing in front of him. ‘Right, as you can see for yourselves this is a big fucking job. I’ve studied the plans of the building and decided that the ground floor is safe to search. I’m not convinced by what the estate agent has told me that the upstairs is ready for a herd of stampeding coppers. So for now, we’ll focus on the ground floor. What we are looking for are any obvious signs of areas being recently disturbed. If you find an area that you think needs checking out, mark it and flag it up for CSI. Obviously a telltale sign would be a decomposing body, but Jack said to mark anything that stands out. It’s vitally important that nothing is overlooked.’
Robbo began to call up groups of two and three, giving them their directions and ward numbers to search, pointing them out on the plans in front of him. Lucy and Mattie paired up together. Browning, who was sweating and huffing at the back of the group, followed them.
‘I’ll come with you two. I can’t be arsed going with those lot; they’ll be pissing around.’ He pointed to the newest group of officers who were all chattering excitedly between themselves. Lucy groaned, although she couldn’t blame him. All three of them made their way towards the building to search for more bodies.
Lucy found her heart racing at the thought of going back inside the asylum so soon. The thought of the cemetery in the field beyond, of how many people had died awful, lonely deaths inside the asylum, made her stomach churn. She let Mattie lead the way.
Browning, who hadn’t stepped inside the building before, took one look around and shook his head. ‘What an awful place to die.’
‘You can say that again,’ Lucy agreed.
‘Poor bastard. I wonder what he’d done to piss someone off this much?’
Mattie opened a set of double doors, which groaned so loudly that Lucy and Browning – not to mention everyone else in the area – jumped.
‘Sorry; it’s just th
e doors.’ Mattie held one of the doors open for the other two, then let go as Browning passed him. This left Lucy in front. She wondered if Mattie was more than a little bit spooked. It was dark down this corridor; all three of them switched on their torches. It smelt earthy, damp and fusty. However, there was no smell of decomposition, which made Lucy feel a little better. She led the way, walking for quite some distance before coming to another set of double doors. She shone her torch around, and felt her heart sink to see the faded teddies and flowers that had once brightened the walls around the doors now covered in graffiti.
Shining her torch above the doors, she read out loud: ‘Welcome to Ward Thirteen.’
Mattie looked at Browning. ‘Fuck; they kept kids in this hospital. This is wrong. It’s so wrong.’
Browning looked around at the murals on the walls. ‘I can’t begin to imagine why you would leave your kid in a place like this.’
The search of the ward proved negative. Nothing in there looked as if it had been disturbed in years. There were no fresh footprints in the dust and debris that littered the floors. Mattie and Browning spent most of their time staring at the assortment of cots and beds, both of them wide-eyed, open-mouthed, shaking their heads. Some of the rusted bed frames had worn leather restraints dangling from them, similar to the ones on the trolley the body had been found on. As they turned to leave, Lucy gave the ward one last look. She knew this place was firmly embedded in her mind now. She might not have nightmares about the victim with a spike through his eye, but she would definitely have nightmares about the wards and the poor kids who’d lived on them.
The three of them emerged back outside into the fading autumn sunlight. Lucy didn’t stop with the others. Instead, she carried on walking towards her car. She needed to clear her mind and get these awful, constricting overalls off. Tugging them down, she felt slightly better to be out of them. She hadn’t realised how hot she’d been inside them until she felt the damp patches of sweat under her armpits. Lifting one arm towards her she sniffed, wrinkling her nose. Not as bad as it could be, but bad enough. She leaned back against the boot of her car and tried to decide what to do next.
She heard Mattie’s voice not too far away. ‘Now can we go for coffee? I need something. Actually, I think I need alcohol and lots of it.’
‘Coffee is the best I can do,’ Lucy said. ‘You know that we’re not going to the pub any time this year, don’t you?’
He shook his head.
‘Come on, I’m buying,’ Lucy said. ‘I need a double-shot vanilla latte to get my brain in gear. I feel as if I’m numb from my head down.’
‘Thank fuck for that; I thought you were never going to say we could leave this place.’
Lucy got into her car and watched as Mattie tried to manoeuvre his six-foot-four frame into the front passenger seat.
‘I hate this car.’
‘I know you do. Just as well you don’t have to drive it then, isn’t it?’
‘I’d rather drive a tractor.’
Lucy laughed and started the engine. ‘I don’t quite know how, but we need to solve this case, and fast. I don’t want lobotomised old people turning up dead all over the place. It’s not good for the tourism industry – and you know what that means.’
‘It means the bloody council will be putting pressure on the chief to get it solved so it doesn’t interfere with what little tourist trade there is,’ Mattie said. ‘I get it. Surely this is a one-off, though? It’s so bizarre; I’ve never come across anything like it.’
‘I hope so,’ Lucy said. ‘I really do.’
8
SEPTEMBER 1975
Even with her eyes shut, Lizzy knew she wasn’t at home in her soft, squishy bed. She was lying on a mattress that was much harder than her own. She tried to open her eyes and couldn’t; they felt as if they’d been glued shut. Panic filled her chest, making it hard to breathe.
‘Mum! Where are you? I can’t see!’ she screamed. She heard footsteps come rushing towards her. Relief flooded her small body – until she felt someone lean over her, and she realised it wasn’t her mum. They seemed much too big, and they didn’t smell like her mum did.
‘Hello, Lizzy,’ the person said. ‘I’m Nurse Stone. You’re in hospital. Do you remember coming here?’
She shook her head frantically from side to side. ‘Where are my mum and dad?’
There was a slight pause. ‘At home. I suspect they didn’t want to come here with you.’
Lizzy’s heart began to pound inside her chest. ‘Why? Am I poorly?’
The nurse began to laugh. ‘Well now, that’s down to you and the doctor to decide. I would say that you were. Can you remember what happened?’
Lizzy felt her eyes begin to open, although she couldn’t see properly – everything looked fuzzy. She saw the white cap on the nurse’s head and tried to focus on that until it became clearer.
‘Nurse, why didn’t you tell me our patient was awake?’ A man’s voice came from the other side of the bed. He sounded strict, a bit like the headteacher at Lizzy’s school. ‘Blink your eyes a couple of times, girl,’ he said now, ‘and you should be able to focus a bit better.’
She did as he said and her vision began to clear. She could now see the short round man standing beside her bed. He was wearing a white doctor’s coat with a stethoscope around his neck. Lizzy turned and saw the stern-looking nurse on her other side, who was watching her every move. Lizzy didn’t like her; she didn’t have a kind, smiley face like her mum. The doctor looked a bit friendlier, so she chose to speak to him.
‘Why am I here? I want my mum.’
‘Your mum will be here tomorrow; she’s had a very sad and tiring day. She will be tucked up in bed by now. If we sit you up, you can have something to eat and drink, then you can go to the toilet and get back into bed. You’ve had some very strong medicine so your legs might feel a little like jelly.’
‘Am I poorly?’
‘Sick in the head, more like,’ the nurse said.
The doctor turned to the nurse. ‘If I hear you talk like that once more, Nurse Stone, I will move you to the men’s ward for the rest of the week.’
The nurse rolled her eyes and Lizzy decided she definitely didn’t like her. She was rude and nasty. And what did she mean, Lizzy was sick in the head? She hadn’t felt ill this morning when she’d woken up, all she’d felt was tired because that baby had kept her awake again most of the night.
A picture of her tiny brother’s lifeless body suddenly filled her mind and she began to scream, flailing her arms around. What had she done? While the nurse tried to grab her hands, the doctor hurried over to the wooden trolley behind the bed next to her. Still screaming, Lizzy looked in the bed and saw a girl who was a lot older than her. The girl lifted her finger to her lips, telling Lizzy to be quiet, then pointed to the doctor, who was holding a big needle filled with some cloudy white medicine. Lizzy realised that if she didn’t shut up, the doctor was going to stick the huge needle into her arm again. She stopped. The girl smiled at her and nodded. The nurse let go of Lizzy’s arm and the doctor paused.
Lizzy whispered, ‘Sorry.’
The doctor placed the cap back on the needle and put it into his pocket. ‘I know this is a bit of a shock for you, but you need to stay calm, otherwise I’ll have to give you another injection to make you sleep. And you don’t want that, do you?’
She shook her head.
‘Good. That’s a good girl. You do what the nurse tells you and you’ll be just fine.’ He turned and walked away.
The nurse, who had hit her leg on the metal cot sides of the bed while trying to hold Lizzy down, looked at her in disgust. ‘You little shit; look what you’ve made me do. I’ve laddered my tights and they were new on this morning, fresh out of the packet.’
The girl in the bed next to Lizzy began to laugh, and the nurse turned to glare at her.
‘You can shut up.’
The laughter got louder and the scary nurse strode towards the gir
l in the bed.
‘I said shut up, you little bitch, or you’ll be sorry.’
The girl lifted her hand to cover her mouth so the nurse couldn’t see the grin underneath it.
‘Carry on and you won’t get any supper, do you hear me?’
The girl nodded and the nurse strode away. The girl looked at Lizzy, but pointed to the nurse. ‘She is a bitch. No one likes her and she loves being mean. I’m Alice and I’ve been here for too long. So what did you do, kid? It must have been pretty bad to end up in the asylum.’
Lizzy had no idea what the asylum was. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You must be pretty crazy to end up here, in The Moore,’ the girl explained. ‘This is the asylum. They call it a hospital, but it’s not a proper hospital. It’s where they put the crazy people, including the nutty kids. I’m here because they said I’m out of control. I hit my mother – who totally deserved it, by the way. She’s a head case, and it’s her that should be locked up in here, not me. Once my dad finds out what she’s done, he’ll come and get me out of here. He won’t let me stay in here when he realises where I am.’
Lizzy felt her eyes go blurry once more, this time from the hot tears that had started to fall down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure why she was here, except for her brother being dead. Still, she had no idea why her mum and dad would send her to this horrible place.
The girl on the bed shushed her. ‘Look, don’t cry: if that nurse hears you she’ll be even meaner to you than she already is. I’m sure there must be a good reason why you’re here; maybe you’re poorly and need a rest to get better. If I were you, I’d keep quiet and eat your food when they bring it, then I’d go to sleep because morning will come faster while you sleep. Then your parents will probably come and get you out of here and take you home.’
Lizzy lifted her sleeve to wipe the tears and snot off her face. ‘Do you think so? I don’t know why they’ve sent me here.’
‘I’m sure they will. Anyway, there isn’t anything you can do tonight, and if you do nothing but snivel and feel sorry for yourself, she’ll have a field day with you.’ Alice pointed to the nurse, who had her back to them and was talking on the telephone.