by Helen Phifer
‘Amanda, was that side door the point of entry, and the office and foyer the primary scene?’
‘Yes. It looks as if the victim walked through the building to that ward of his own free will. Jack said there were no signs of a struggle or any drag marks to indicate he was brought there unconscious. In fact, he said that apart from a couple of prints on the door they used, and the body, there is little other evidence. Of course, the fact that this place is falling to bits and full of debris doesn’t help. It’s a wreck. Jack has finished inside now, although he said not to release the scene for a while yet.’
Lucy stared up at the huge wooden entrance doors. ‘Can I go back in? I want to take another look at the body and the building.’
Amanda nodded. ‘You can, but you know what he’s like. Don’t touch anything at all.’
Lucy stepped inside. It was almost dark outside now and it was even darker in the foyer. She turned the torch on that Mattie passed to her and shone it around. He whistled behind her as he stepped inside.
‘This is like some place from your worst nightmare. It’s every haunted house and horror film I’ve ever watched rolled into one. Only you know what makes it a hundred times worse?’
She nodded. ‘The fact that it’s real, that this even exists. That men, women and poor, bloody children were kept locked up in here is far worse than any horror film.’
It really was awful. Now that the light was fading fast – even with the spotlights Jack had set up – the atmosphere was one of great blackness and despair. Lucy could feel it through every part of her body. She shone the torch towards the ward where the body was. Inside, she could see Jack giving everything the once-over. Then she turned the other way and shone the powerful torch down the nearest corridor. It seemed to go on forever, the torch beam dying out before it reached the end.
‘This place is bloody huge,’ she said.
‘And creepy as fuck,’ Mattie added.
It was creepy, but Lucy didn’t believe in ghosts or things that went bump in the night. She didn’t even feel that scared; well, not as much as Mattie was, judging by his high-pitched voice. What she really felt was sad – for whoever had spent their lives inside here. This building had housed thousands of mentally ill patients and she knew very little about its history, nor had needed to until now. It was one of those things every local knew about, but rarely discussed. When she’d been a response officer they would get called out here quite often, because of kids going ghost hunting or partying in the grounds, but she’d never thought about it beyond that. Now, she wanted to know everything about it.
‘Apparently, this place was a state-of-the-art mental hospital at the time. Patients were sent here from all over the country for the radical treatments that they offered.’
‘And you know this because?’
‘My aunty Alice; told me that she used to work here when she was younger. I think she was a nurse. I tried not to listen to all of her stories, though, because they used to freak me out. She told me that they would lock naughty kids in here and they were never allowed out to see their parents. She was a bugger and would scare the shit out of me whenever I was being bad.’
‘What, your cute aunty who is even shorter than me and is always baking apple crumbles?’
‘Yep! Only she wasn’t so cute when she was telling me and Daryl we were going to end up inside here and they’d make us vegetables.’
‘Do you think she knew about the lobotomies then?’
‘I suppose she did; she must have if they were as popular as Catherine said. You don’t think she did it, do you?’
Lucy began to laugh. ‘Don’t be stupid, no. I’m thinking that we could probably do with speaking to her, though, to get some background information on the place. She might remember whose office it was that the body was found in. It would save us some time digging around.’
‘Well, you know Alice, any excuse to feed someone apple crumble and sit gossiping. She’ll be over the moon. She’s always had a bit of a soft spot for you, too – just don’t let her know about your tattoos. She doesn’t like them.’
Lucy began to walk towards the light-filled entrance and the huge, sweeping staircase. ‘We might as well go and check the upstairs; no point in keeping everyone hanging on waiting for the building inspector.’
‘Really? You want just the two of us to go up there? In the dark, with just torches?’
She looked over her shoulder at his face to see if he was joking. He wasn’t.
‘Are you scared, Matthew? Because if you are, wait down here and I’ll go on my own.’
‘Don’t be daft; I’m not scared. I just don’t know if we should.’
‘Well, it’s your choice, obviously. I’m not going to make you accompany me somewhere that might be dangerous. You wait down here for me; I’ll be as quick as I can.’ She began to run up the stairs, not waiting to hear his reply. The sound of his much heavier footsteps began to follow her and she smiled to herself. She reached the first floor and shone her torch around. There were four sets of double doors. Behind them; sheets of darkness.
‘I wonder how the killer knew where to find the trolley?’ Lucy said. ‘Whoever it is definitely must have been in here before, to know where to find it. If you were working on your own, would you really want to start searching this place looking for props with your victim present? I reckon they’d been here before and got it ready.’
‘What do you mean, “props”?’
‘Well, this is obviously staged. The killer could have just killed the victim anywhere and left his body on the floor. Why go to the trouble of luring him here, getting him on a trolley then stabbing him through the eye socket with that metal instrument? This is personal, not some random stranger killing.’
‘You ever thought of becoming a psychological profiler, Lucy? Like that one on the television, what’s his name?’
‘I have no idea who you are talking about. And no, I can’t say that it’s ever crossed my mind.’
‘Cracker, or that odd one out of Wire in the Blood. You’d fit right in, weighing up the loonies.’
Lucy stared at him. ‘And what do you mean by that tasteless remark?’
Mattie shrugged. ‘Nothing. You’re good with the crazies though, aren’t you? They all like you.’
‘Have some respect, will you? A lot of people have died in here. Probably living the most miserable existence you could imagine. Let’s not be disrespectful to their memories by using words like that. It’s just not right.’
They carried on searching, going through each set of double doors and looking into all the rooms and empty wards. There were still metal beds everywhere, with wardrobes and drawers. The curtains around the beds were moth-eaten and hanging off the rails. In one side room there was even a set of toiletries laid out on the sink, covered in dust now, the liquid in the bottles a funny green colour.
Satisfied there were no more bodies, they went back downstairs. Jack had gone outside, so Lucy went out to find him. He was busy loading his van up with the equipment.
‘So what’s the verdict?’ he asked as he saw her approach.
‘Upstairs was clear and we’ve done everything that we possibly can; we need to go back and upload the images and book all the evidence in. Task Force can go back in tomorrow and do another search if you need it.’
‘Can we get the body moved now?’
‘As soon as the boss gives the go-ahead.’
Jack arched his eyebrow at her and it took a moment for it to sink in.
‘Oh yes; I suppose that’s me, then. I’m not used to being the one making the big decisions. I don’t see why it can’t be moved, if you’re happy? At least it will be there for Catherine, so she can crack on with the PM first thing.’
Lucy took her radio out of her pocket, walking across to the gate where there were two PCSOs on scene guard. ‘I’m going to request the duty undertakers come and move the body. If we leave you a car, will you be OK to stay on for a little while?’
&
nbsp; They both nodded in unison.
‘Thanks, I really do appreciate it. I’ll get night shift to come and take over so you’ll be back at the station by the end of your shift.’
Lucy walked back to the car, in which Mattie was now sitting with the engine running and the heater on full blast.
‘What time do you think we’ll get away, boss?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. Have you got somewhere you need to be?’
‘No, just wondering. You know how long these things take.’
Lucy leant back in the seat and closed her eyes, signalling for him to be quiet for a while. The sooner they could ID the victim, the better. Currently, he was known as ‘John Smith’.
Before they drove away, Mattie took out his phone and sent a quick text to the woman he was supposed to be meeting for a date: Sorry, working late. Not sure what time I’ll get there. He slipped the phone back into his pocket before Lucy realised. He didn’t want her asking any awkward questions or wondering what he was up to.
12
SEPTEMBER 1975
It was night time, but Lizzy couldn’t sleep. She had been asleep most of the day, and anyway, it was far too noisy in here. To occupy herself, she counted the beds in the ward. There were ten, containing figures of assorted sizes. The bed opposite her had a small boy tucked into it. He was sitting up and staring at her. He had a scruffy teddy bear clutched to his chest, and there was a line of saliva running down his chin. His tongue, which was huge, was resting on his lips and as yucky as it was, Lizzy couldn’t help feel sorry for him. He looked so sad. She smiled at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, making her giggle. She stuck hers out back at him and his sullen face broke into a smile. One of the two night-shift nurses walked out of the medicine cupboard and straight towards him.
‘Tommy, why are you not asleep? It’s late.’
He stuck his tongue out at the nurse, who slapped his cheek in response. Tommy didn’t cry, but held his hand to his cheek. Lizzy was too scared to move. She felt as if her chest were on fire. How dare that nurse hit that little kid? Were they even allowed to do stuff like that? She didn’t think they were.
Tommy lay down, closing one eye, and the nurse walked away. As soon as the nurse’s back was turned, he pushed himself up on his elbows, sticking his tongue back out at Lizzy. She grinned at him, then tried to settle back down to sleep. She could hear the nurses chattering away to each other in the small back office where they kept the files. They were talking about someone’s boyfriend and giggling.
Just as Lizzy’s eyes finally began to feel heavy, and she was beginning to drift off, she heard the mean nurse whispering.
‘Did you see the latest list for procedures?’
‘No, not yet. Are any of ours on it?
‘Yes, that brat from bed ten who thinks she knows better than anyone else is down for a lobotomy. It says it’s dependent upon her behaviour over the next few weeks. She’s to be closely monitored and assessed to see if she’s a suitable candidate.’
‘I don’t know why they don’t just do it anyway. Who cares if she’s suitable or not? It will make our lives easier if we don’t have to argue with her every day. She’d soon change her tune if she knew what was in store for her, wouldn’t she?’
‘Probably, so it might be best not to tell her.’
The nurses began to giggle again. Lizzy wondered who the kid was in bed ten, and what they were going to do to her, before her eyes closed as she drifted off.
* * *
The sound of squealing woke her up. In her dream she had been at home in her own bed and her dad had been sitting on the bed next to her, reading her a story, just like he had done every night until they’d brought the baby home. Then she’d had to start tucking herself into bed. Lizzy looked around, unable to remember where she was – until suddenly her hair was tugged so hard her eyes began to water.
‘Ouch! Get off me, you little brat!’
As she struggled to free herself, Lizzy saw two nurses running in her direction. One of them had one of those awful sharp syringes in her hand. For a moment, she wondered what she’d done wrong – and then the grip on her hair loosened as the kid let go and threw himself under her bed to get away from the nurses. She still wasn’t sure who it was until she heard the nurse growl, ‘Tommy!’ He was halfway down the ward by this point, skidding under beds to get away from them. Lizzy found herself hoping that he did, even though he had hurt her.
There was a large crash: the nurse with the needle in her hand had tripped over a wheelchair that Tommy had pushed in her way. It was quite spectacular, the way the woman fell into it and somersaulted over it, landing in a heap on the floor with a loud ‘Jesus, fucking Christ! You little bastard; I’ll get you!’
The other nurse stopped mid-step, clearly wondering whether she should continue chasing Tommy – who had now run into the shower rooms – or help her colleague up. She decided she’d better help the other woman up and held out her hand; the first nurse grasped it and stood up. She looked as if she’d been in a fight. Her tights were laddered. Her uniform was no longer white, it was smeared in dirt from the wheels of the chair, and her cap wasn’t sitting straight on her head. She limped back to the nurses’ station with the help of the other nurse, leaving the syringe full of brown liquid where it had rolled on the floor under a nearby bed.
Lizzy wasn’t sure why, but she wanted that syringe. She jumped out of bed and ran along to where the wheelchair was toppled over. In case anyone was watching, she made out that she was just picking up the wheelchair – but at the same time, she bent down to grab the syringe and slid it up her sleeve. Then she went into the shower rooms to see where Tommy was.
It was cold in the shower rooms. They smelt of damp and something old inside. Tommy was nowhere to be seen, but there was a door closed at the other end which Lizzy knew he must be hiding behind. Alice came in behind her, and walked straight to the end of the room to whisper at the door.
‘Nice one, kid, but you’re going to get your arse kicked. You know that, don’t you?’ There was no noise from the other side and Alice walked away, towards one of the shower cubicles, with her towel slung over her shoulder.
Lizzy waited until the shower was running, then looked around for somewhere to hide the syringe. Before she had found anywhere, a heavy hand slapped the side of her head so hard that she felt her head snap forwards. The syringe was grabbed out of her fingers.
‘And what, may I ask, were you going to do with that? This is dangerous medicine, not to be messed around with.’
Lizzy looked up to see the doctor from yesterday standing behind her.
‘Get back to your bed; I’ll deal with you later. Where’s Tommy?’
Lizzy was still shocked by the blow, but she looked at him and shook her head. ‘I don’t know who Tommy is, and I just found that needle on the floor. The nurse dropped it.’
The doctor stared at her, as if by looking into her eyes he could tell whether or not she was telling the truth. Alice, who had emerged from the shower with her towel wrapped around her, and was standing watching with her arms folded across her chest, had moved in front of the wooden door where Tommy was hiding. The doctor marched down towards her.
‘Where is he, Alice? He’s been a bad boy and needs to take his medicine.’
‘I don’t know who you mean. And how has he been a bad boy, exactly? We’re all bad kids according to you, Dr Wilkes.’
‘I’m not going to argue with you, Alice. Step to one side or you’ll be getting some of the same as Tommy is about to.’
She glared at him, but she clearly knew what the stuff was in that glass syringe. Moving out of the way, she grabbed Lizzy’s hand and led her out of the shower room. Two male porters came running in past them, both of them out of breath, and Alice shook her head in disgust. ‘Three grown men,’ she whispered to Lizzy, ‘to cope with an eight-year-old handicapped kid.’
13
Mattie and Lucy had finally left the hospital grounds
and were on their way back to the station. Mattie, who had been checking his watch every few minutes, looked at it once more.
‘It’s almost nine o’clock.’
‘I know,’ Lucy replied. ‘I can read the time. Are you sure you don’t need to be somewhere? You’re getting on my nerves with your sighing and clock-watching.’
‘Well, actually, I was supposed to be meeting this bird tonight. I’ve told her I can’t make it, though.’
‘Why didn’t you say something sooner?’ Lucy asked.
‘Because I dragged you into work early for this and I would have felt bad leaving you on your first day back.’
Lucy patted his arm. ‘You know, you drive me mad, then out of the blue you say something that knocks me for six. I appreciate you hanging around, but as soon as we get back, you get off. I don’t want to be responsible for ruining what’s left of a hot date.’
Mattie laughed. ‘Cheers, Lucy. You know, I’m really glad that you’re back. It’s been so boring around here without you. This is the first murder we’ve had in months.’
Lucy stared out of the window, trying to stop the bloody images of the lifeless Natalia and her daughter Isabella from filling her mind. It had been so close, so damn close. Just a few minutes more and she wouldn’t have had to be terrified every night of falling asleep and seeing their bodies in all their blood-red glory. Glassy-eyed, staring at her. Accusing her of letting them down. A cold shiver ran down her spine.
‘You’re welcome,’ she said, trying to get her mind back to the here and now. ‘I’m glad that I’m of some use. Although I’m not sure that I’m altogether happy that there’s a murder the same day I come back to work.’
The new multimillion-pound police station came into view and she shook her head. ‘That is one fucking ugly building.’