by Helen Phifer
‘Aw, you’re far too kind,’ she said. ‘I’ll have a coffee, and the boss wants tea with two sugars.’ She passed him the mugs and coffee tin, then went to see if Colin was in yet. When she reached the open-plan CID office, she smiled to see him sitting in the corner.
‘Colin, I need that staff and patient list for the hospital, like, right now. Please tell me you have it?’
‘Boss, I’ll have it by dinner time. I’ve had some trouble getting hold of it with all the data protection. You know how it is.’
‘I do know how it is; I can’t wait any longer, though. The bodies are starting to stack up. I would suggest you put those extra special talents to use and get it to me as soon as you can.’
‘Are you actually giving me permission to go in through the back door?’
‘I don’t care which door you use, just get me a printout of the patients and staff and I’ll buy your lunch.’
Colin grinned, and Lucy grinned back. Sometimes, to do the right thing you had to go about it the wrong way.
26
According to Jane’s contract, she wasn’t supposed to work weekends, but she’d heard about a job vacancy for a weekend assistant for the new coffee shop. It would be the perfect thing for Ellie, to keep her out of trouble and give Jane less stress. Jane had messaged Ellie on Facebook last night to tell her about it, and asked her to meet her outside the coffee shop so that she could take her in and introduce her. Ellie had reluctantly agreed – Jane had known that the thought of earning her own money would tempt her.
Jane came out of the coffee shop now with two takeaway lattes and an application form. Ellie was waiting in her car. Jane opened the car door and offered a coffee to Ellie, who took it from her. ‘Thanks. What did they say?’
‘Well, luck would have it that I know the manager from when she was your age. I helped her, and she knows what it’s like to be a teenager. She said if you fill out this form and take it in, she’ll interview you right now.’
‘Really?’
Jane smiled. ‘Yes, really. The thing with this life most of the time, Ellie, is it’s not what you know, but who you know. So fill that out and go in and charm them with your sparkling wit and personality.’
Jane knew she was pushing it a bit, but if the girl had more to think about than her home life, it would make Jane’s job a lot easier. Whilst Ellie bent her head and filled out the form, Jane sipped on her latte, thinking about how she couldn’t wait to see her lover later. Finally, Ellie lifted her head and passed her the form. Jane scanned it and nodded.
‘Yep, that’s pretty good. Now go in and do your very best.’
Ellie got out of the car and walked across the car park to the busy café. An older woman reached the door to exit it at the same time as Ellie was going to enter, and Jane was relieved to see the girl hold the door open for the woman to pass through. She watched the woman walk over to the fancy white car that was waiting for her, where she climbed inside and kissed the woman behind the steering wheel on the cheek. Jane nodded – well, you just didn’t know these days, did you? The woman looked vaguely familiar to her. She must work in the café, Jane decided, because she had the same uniform on as the manager.
A hand slammed on the windscreen in front of her and she jumped, spilling latte all down the front of her white blouse. She looked up and frowned at Ellie, who was grinning and mouthing ‘sorry’ at the same time. Angry, Jane forced herself to smile at the teenager, who was hopping around from one foot to the other. She put the window down.
‘That was quick. Well?’
‘I got the job, can you believe it? Oh, and sorry about the coffee; you were in a world of your own. I couldn’t help myself!’
‘Congratulations. I knew you would. At least you have something good to tell your parents now. They’ll be so proud of you.’
‘Do you think so? I know I’ve been a pain in the arse lately.’
‘I do think so.’ Jane didn’t tell her that she thought her parents were complete fuck-ups, and that it was their own fault Ellie was playing up.
‘Thank you for helping me. I can’t wait to get my own money. I can buy what I want – it will be so cool!’
‘When do you start?’
‘I have to go back this afternoon to learn the ropes – oh, and that woman said that you’re welcome to go in for coffee anytime.’
Jane smiled at her. ‘Good, that’s nice. Right, let’s get you back home. I’ve done my good deed for the day. I have a life as well, you know.’
‘Ooh, what’ve you got planned that’s so exciting?’ Ellie asked. ‘Have you got a hot date?’
‘I might just have… or I might just want to go back and put my pyjamas on and do nothing all day. You’ll never know.’
Jane drove Ellie home. The girl never stopped chattering all the way. It was nice to hear her so happy; since Jane had met her, she’d only ever seen her sullen and miserable. She parked up around the corner from Ellie’s dad’s, not sure he’d be happy about his daughter spending time with her out of working hours.
‘Thanks, Jane,’ Ellie said. ‘I won’t let you down.’
‘You’d better not, or I won’t get my free coffees.’
Ellie slammed the door and wandered away, plugging her earphones in and staring down at her phone. Jane drove off. She needed to go to the supermarket to get some bits in for tonight. The only downfall with dating her younger man was the fact that he worked so late: it was impossible to make any plans.
27
Colin stood up for the first time in a couple of hours and stretched his arms out in front of him. He’d been busy, and when he lost himself in his computer, he lost all track of time and place. He looked to Lucy’s office, which was empty. Mattie was on the phone, his feet on his desk and a pen in his mouth. Colin needed to pee and to collect his printing. He’d speak to Mattie once he’d relieved himself.
When he finally returned clutching a sheaf of papers, Mattie was standing up, about to go out.
‘Mattie, where’s the boss?’
‘She had to go. The chief ordered her to go for an emergency counselling session.’
Colin didn’t think Lucy would appreciate Mattie announcing her whereabouts so freely. Then again, it could happen to any of them. One dead body too many and you had to go and tell your sob story to the latest counsellor that had been shagging a senior officer and got themselves put on the payroll.
He handed the papers to Mattie. ‘This is the list she wanted of staff and patients for the asylum. If you look it tells you that ward thirteen was shut down in November 75, Nurse Stone worked that ward. She left around the same time that Tommy Wright vanished from the system. Dr Edwin Wilkes also worked on the same ward. If you ask me, she was sacked. I bet she was either shagging the good doctor and got caught, or she did something really bad.’
‘That’s bloody brilliant,’ Mattie said. ‘Well done, Col. Could you not have found out exactly why she left so suddenly?’
‘I may be a complete genius, but I’m not doing all your work for you. You’re going to have to figure that one out. I’m going to get something to eat; tell the boss she owes me lunch.’
Col walked off, leaving Mattie grinning. This was going to cheer Lucy up no end when she got back from her head-bashing session. Not that she needed counselling – they all had to deal with shit. Pouring your heart out to a complete stranger was never going to make it go away, no matter what the powers that be thought. Everyone knew that Lucy had done what anyone else in that situation would. The Task Force sergeant was well known for his heavy-handed techniques, refusing to do anything unless he’d made the decisions. If Mattie had been there, he’d have smacked him for Lucy – but he’d been on holiday in Greece. When he’d found out what had happened, he’d gone straight around to see if Lucy was OK. They’d sat and drank a full bottle of vodka between them. They were always there for each other; always had been. No one could ever come between their friendship.
Then why won’t you tell her about
Heidi? the voice inside Mattie’s head whispered.
He didn’t know why. It just didn’t seem right. She’d only just come straight back to work and was already knee-deep in a shit case. He didn’t want to risk upsetting her over his love life.
Lucy was sitting opposite Sara in her office, which was far too warm. She could feel her cheeks flushed with the heat of the uncomfortable questions that were being fired her way.
‘Why do you blame yourself, Lucy?
Lucy glared at her. Sara only sat up straighter – she didn’t wither or back off. Lucy shrugged. ‘I don’t.’
‘Yes, you do. You carry the weight of what happened that day around on your shoulders; it’s so heavy, they almost sag. All right, let’s go back to what happened when you were talking to him. You had it all under control and then – bam. In the space of a few minutes it was a mess, a complete circus that ended up with a dead woman and child.’
Lucy tried her best not to engage. She didn’t want to relive the whole horrible scenario over and over again. What good would it do?
‘Do you think it’s all your fault?’
‘No.’
‘Good. Tell me why it isn’t?’
‘What good will that do?’
‘I need to hear your side of the story.’
‘Why? It doesn’t change anything, does it? Natalia and her daughter are still dead. They died because that prick ignored me and took it upon himself to be the fucking hero. Some hero. I almost had him. And if I had, they would still be here today. They wouldn’t be rotting corpses in a corner of a cemetery, with some dead flowers on the grave and no one to tend to it.’
‘But someone does take fresh flowers,’ Sara said. ‘I visited the grave myself and saw there were some pretty pink roses and baby’s breath in a vase. You did everything that you could to save them.’
Lucy felt the hot tears begin to form in her eyes. ‘It wasn’t enough.’
‘No, it wasn’t. The situation was taken out of your hands and you need to stop blaming yourself. Isn’t it enough that you tried?’
Lucy shook her head. She might have tried but they still died.
‘Sometimes life is horrible,’ Sara said. ‘You can’t shoulder the blame for everything that goes wrong.’
‘No. I have to make sure it never happens again.’
Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to block out the bloodied, lifeless images of the seven-year-old and her mother lying dead on the living room floor, their throats severed, the blood pooling around them so thick and cloying that Lucy could still smell it now. She’d tried so hard to talk Tony Costella around, had almost convinced him to come outside and surrender. And then the stupid, idiotic silver commander had given the order for the Task Force sergeant to go in. Costella had flipped, and within minutes had killed his beautiful family and stabbed himself in the stomach. Lucy had gone inside to survey the carnage and had lost it, running outside to punch the commander. She’d been dragged away from him and restrained.
Taking a deep breath now, she tried to push the memories away, and stared at the woman in front of her.
Sara shook her head. ‘And how can you do that?’
‘By being in control, by getting justice for the victims I deal with and by not listening to anyone – regardless of their rank – if I think they’re wrong.’
‘Look, Lucy, I admire you. I really do. You are an honest, hard-working woman. You also need to go easy on yourself, give yourself a break. When was the last time you did something for you? Not for your family or your work colleagues – you?’
Lucy looked down at the expensive wrist watch George had given her as a wedding present. Her time was just about up. She stood up and smiled at Sara. ‘Thank you, I really need to go.’
Sara nodded as Lucy grabbed her bag and coat off the floor. Lucy didn’t turn around or say goodbye; she needed to get out of that office before she said something she regretted. Outside the house, the feeling that she needed a stiff drink was overpowering. She looked longingly at the pub on the corner. The Black Dog had never looked so appealing. Stopping herself from heading in that direction, she pulled out her phone and dialled Mattie’s number.
‘Can you pick me up, please? I’ll walk down to Costa coffee on the main street and get us both a drink.’
By the time she’d walked there and been served, Mattie was parked outside waiting for her. Lucy was carrying a cup holder with two drinks and a paper bag with cakes inside. Mattie leant across and opened the door for her so that she could climb in without giving herself third-degree burns. He took the coffees from her so she could fasten her seat belt, then passed them back to her.
‘How did it go?’
‘Bollocks.’
‘That good, eh?’
Lucy stared at him. He changed the subject. ‘I have something for you that will put a smile on your face. It’s your list from Col.’
‘Thank Christ for that – and about time.’
‘Wilkes and Stone worked together from June until November 1975, when she left for some unknown reason.’
‘Yes, I bloody knew there was some connection,’ Lucy said. ‘We need to go and speak to Florence Wilkes again. What about the rest of these sheets of paper?’
‘A list of patient names. There are an awful lot of them.’
She began to flick through the pages. ‘There are so many?’
‘Yes. Col said that the ones with an asterisk next to them are dead.’
‘Thank god for that – at least it narrows it down quite a bit. We’re going to need to cross-reference dates of birth – anyone older than our victims can be put to the bottom of the list because Stone worked on a children’s ward and had most of her direct contact with those patients.’ She ran her finger along the page. Almost all of these were too old. She turned the pages until she came to a list of patients on ward thirteen from 1975. She counted them: thirteen, and there were four with asterisks next to their names. That left nine.
‘I think we need to concentrate on these.’
‘Who are they?’
‘The patients who were children. There are nine of them that are still alive – or were when the hospital shut down. It won’t hurt for any younger members of staff to be checked as well if we can find any names.’
‘I suppose nine is a lot better than a hundred,’ Mattie said. ‘Do you reckon there was some funny business going on in that hospital? Maybe they did something to one of the kids and now they’re seeking revenge. It’s a very long time to wait to get your own back on someone though, isn’t it? Why would you wait this long?’
Lucy was studying the names. Anthony Walker, Julie Pouter, Sharon Sykes, Nora Johnson, Lizzy Clements, Alice Evans, Thomas Wright, Rebecca Smith, Rachel Thompson.
‘Maybe they’ve been in a hospital all this time,’ Mattie suggested. ‘Or maybe something has stirred up memories that were buried before.’
Lucy stared at the names. Alice Evans. She knew that name.
‘What was your Aunty Alice’s maiden name?’ she asked Mattie.
‘Evans. Why?’
‘I think she might be on this list – as a patient, though. Not a staff member. If it is her, she would know if something had happened up there. She might even know why Audrey Stone disappeared from the staff.’
Frowning, Mattie took out his phone and rang his aunt. He ended the conversation with an ‘I love you, Aunty Alice,’ which made Lucy smile.
‘She’s just finished work,’ Mattie said. ‘She’ll be home in half an hour; we can go and see her then. I’m finding it hard to believe that she was a patient though She always told me that she worked there. There are probably hundreds of Alice Evanses in this area. You don’t think she’s our killer, do you?’
‘No, I don’t,’ Lucy said. ‘That’s stupid. Alice is far too sweet – and I don’t want to sound mean, but she always comes across as being so innocent.’
Mattie began to drive. ‘Anyway, I need a pee. Can we go to your house? It’s nearer tha
n mine.’
‘Actually, can we drive by Cottage Lane first?’ Lucy asked. ‘I want to take another look at the scene.’
The street was still cordoned off, with a PCSO standing on either end of the police tape, restricting access.
‘CSI have just left, ma’am. They said they’ll probably be back.’
‘OK, that’s great, thanks.’ Lucy held her hand out for the scene-guard booklet so she could sign herself in, then ducked under the tape. As she was standing staring into Audrey Stone’s front garden, she heard a voice.
‘Hello? I’m wondering if you could help me to find my friend.’
Lucy looked around, surprised to see a woman standing in a garden a few doors down. ‘I’m not sure what you mean?’
‘Are you the police lady who was in the paper?’
For a moment Lucy thought about lying – saying no and denying all knowledge. The papers had plastered her face all over their front pages with headlines such as: ‘HERO COP LOSES IT’. The fact that she was staring at a crime scene now kind of gave her away, though, she supposed. How had this woman got so far through the cordon without anyone stopping her?
Lucy had a feeling she was going to regret this, but she couldn’t lie. It wasn’t in her nature – even though telling the truth had got her in a whole world of trouble on several occasions. She turned to see the horrified face of the PCSO pointing to one of the houses a couple of doors down and realised that the woman had probably lied about living here to get in. Lucy went over to the woman now, taking in her smart appearance and neatly cut hair. A salon dye job, too, not some home dye from Wilko’s. She didn’t look as though she was the type to be sending Lucy on a wild goose chase, or attention-seeking because she had nothing better to do.
‘I’m Detective Inspector Harwin,’ Lucy said, ‘and yes, unfortunately I have been in the paper several times.’
‘I’m Shannon Knowles,’ the woman said. ‘I just knew it was you. My friend Lauren lives here, but she’s missing. I can’t get hold of her and it’s not like her at all. I mean, she’s my best friend. Even when we don’t see each other, we talk on Facebook all the time or text each other, and she hasn’t been in touch.’