Flatline

by Robert Innes

  “Not a lot,” Kelsey said, wiping away a tear. “First time I knew anything about him was the night before Joe’s death. I got this weird phone call. Whoever it was had wanted me to know that they were behind the bells. I was a mess. I completely freaked out. I thought he was going to kill me. I still do, that’s why I came. To try and make this nightmare end.” She stared ahead, picturing her last memories of Joe. He had stormed out of the office after their argument. “Now Joe’s gone, it was easier actually. There was only me left to take the punishment. I’m not trying to make myself sound like a better person, but with Joe not here, it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world to do.”

  “So, The Watcher calls you, taunts you and generally goes out of his way to unnerve you,” Blake clarified, frowning slightly. “What else has he done?”

  Kelsey thought back. The past few days had begun to blur into one huge pile of horror and misery to the point it was difficult to pick out certain points. “I got a video, that was the first time I’d seen him in all this surgeon get up. He had a newspaper of the day it happened, and he was just talking about how we took this innocent woman’s life. It sounded like he was using one of those voice modifier things. I don’t know how they work, I’ve just read about them. You can get them online. He was definitely using one when I saw him tonight. It sounded quite tinny. He put a card and a white lily through my letter box tonight, and then I saw him.”

  “What did he say in the card?” Blake asked.

  “Not a lot. It wasn’t signed. It just said ‘Sorry for your loss.’”

  Blake leant back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “And you’re sure the card and the lily came from The Watcher?”

  Before Kelsey could answer, there was a sharp knock on the door and Angel appeared.

  “Can I have a word with you both, please?”

  Gardiner glanced back at Kelsey with an irritated sigh, then leant across the table to the recorder, looking up at the clock on the wall. “Interview suspended at 13:56.”

  They walked out of the room, leaving Kelsey alone with her own thoughts. She felt strangely happy. The world around her felt lighter, somehow. Her confession meant that she was no longer hiding anything.

  The door opened again, and Patil walked in. “I’m going to take you down to the cells, Miss Richards,” she told her.

  Kelsey nodded and allowed herself to be taken out of the room and through the station. They reached the end of a corridor and Patil opened a large steel door for her to walk inside. Her cell was as stark as she had always imagined it would be. The door closed behind her with a loud clang and as the lock turned, she stood in the middle of the small room and took in a deep breath. Then, she exhaled and smiled. It was the most content she had felt in over a year.

  13

  Blake followed Gardiner into Angel’s office, his brain alive with what he had discovered since arriving at the station. It was frustrating that he now had more questions that ever after speaking to Kelsey, even though he had assumed that she was the one with all the answers. He shut the office door behind him and stood in front of Angel’s desk alongside Gardiner, who was looking more annoyed than ever.

  “Is there a problem, Sir?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “Not at all, Sergeant Gardiner,” Angel replied. “But I think it’s fairly clear that Miss Richards can’t tell us everything we need to know. Joe Tilsley was obviously hiding something from her.”

  “I agree,” Blake replied. “And I also think there’s more to The Watcher than meets the eye too.”

  “Oh, you do surprise me,” Gardiner muttered.

  “What are your theories, DS Harte?” Angel asked, ignoring Gardiner.

  “I know this sounds crazy, but it’s almost like there’s two people involved in this Watcher character. Think about it, Kelsey receives a flower and a sympathy card, then a few minutes later sees this guy standing in her yard, proclaiming how Joe has been punished. Do those two really fit together? Sympathy and threats?”

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” Gardiner snapped. “We’re talking about someone who films themselves dressed as a surgeon and goes to peoples’ houses with a voice modulator threatening justice. Obviously has a screw loose. And don’t forget about this drowning in a lift thing. Anybody who is capable of all that and still sleeps at night is hardly going to prioritise logic in their behaviour.”

  “Either way,” Blake said pointedly, “there’s more going on in Clackton General than we thought. Whoever The Watcher is, he obviously works at the hospital. What I don’t get is that if The Watcher is responsible for somehow drowning Tilsley in the lift, why didn’t he kill Kelsey today? She lives alone now, it would have been simple. Instead, he makes a run for it. He sent that video of Lucy’s death after Joe had been killed. He wanted us to see that because he knew we would go through his phone at some point. And, if Joe Tilsley did murder Lucy, our surgeon friend knew it was going to happen, otherwise, surely, he wouldn’t have been there to film it. There’s more under the surface with this, and I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere with any of it until we go back to the hospital.”

  “I quite agree,” Angel said lightly. “So, Sergeant Gardiner, I think that should be your next move.”

  “Certainly, Sir,” Gardiner growled.

  “That will be all,” Angel finished, and turned to his computer.

  Gardiner stormed out of the office, with Blake hobbling behind him.

  “Michael, hang on,” he called.

  “Never mind ‘hang on’,” retorted Gardiner, spinning around. “I have had quite enough of you poking your nose into my investigation for one day.”

  “I’m sorry,” Blake told him, when he finally caught up with him in reception. “But I think we’re going to have to work together to solve this. I don’t think we can do it on our own.”

  “There is no ‘we’. I am quite capable, thank you.” Gardiner turned and strolled out of the building. Blake groaned in frustration and followed him. His side was starting to hurt again, but he assumed it was because he was having to hobble around so much.

  When he got outside, he saw Gardiner unlocking the door to one of the police cars outside the station. He put in all the effort he could muster and came to a stop at the passenger side, slightly breathless. “I’ve said I’m sorry, okay?”

  Gardiner bit his lip in annoyance. “I am going to the hospital. I am going to speak to the staff on that ward, and I am then going to put together what I discover, and I will work out this whole affair from start to finish. Just because you’ve got ‘detective’ in your title, does not mean that you are the only one who can solve cases that require just a little bit of lateral thinking. At this moment in time, you are not my senior officer, you are, at best, my equal.”

  “I know that.”

  “So, I’m not going to let you talk me down, or order me about because you currently have precisely zero jurisdiction over me.”

  “So, let’s work together,” Blake insisted. “Do you not think that when me and you are on the same side, we’re the best in the station? That interview went better than it would if I was there on my own because I had you by my side. We ask questions that the other doesn’t think to. In all honesty, I don’t think this Watcher has a cat in hell’s chance against the two of us. There’s a reason you have the position you do, Michael, and there’s a reason I have mine. Because we’re good at our jobs.”

  “Ever heard the expression ‘too many cooks spoil the broth?’”

  “Ever heard the expression ‘two heads are better than one?’”

  Gardiner stared at Blake, then sighed. “Fine. Get in. But remember, it’s my investigation, and I call the shots.”

  Blake held his hands up in surrender. “Absolutely.”

  Gardiner grunted, apparently pleased his point had been made and climbed into the car. Blake rolled his eyes and then sat next to him, slamming the passenger door closed behind him. The action sent another sharp pain stabbing him in the side. He
winced, but Gardiner seemed to neither notice or care. He merely started the car and they made their way out of the carpark, towards Clackton General.

  They arrived at the hospital having spent the entire journey barely speaking, although Blake found the silence helpful. He had developed a couple of theories in his head about what had been going on. Of course, they were just theories at this stage, but he was hopeful that a few interviews would solidify some of the components floating around his mind.

  As he climbed out of the car, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. His heart sank as he saw Harrison’s name on the screen. He leant against the roof of the car and nervously answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, how are you feeling?” Harrison asked.

  “Oh, you know,” Blake faltered. “Not too bad.”

  “Good. I hope you’re taking it easy. What are you up to?”

  Blake closed his eyes. What he knew was about to come out of his mouth was not something he felt proud of at all. “I’m just relaxing, you know. Nothing too strenuous.”

  Gardiner who was waiting impatiently for Blake to follow him, raised his eyebrows.

  “Lucky you,” Harrison moaned. “It’s been frantic here. Is there a snowstorm coming that I didn’t know about? It seems like the whole of Harmschapel is panic buying. Honestly, the shelves are nearly empty. We had a tour bus come through the village. You probably heard it if you haven’t moved off the sofa. I think they all came in here to get refreshments.”

  “Bless you. Well, don’t work too hard.”

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Harrison replied. “And Blake? I meant what I said. It really is good to have you back. Love you.”

  “I love you too,” Blake said. He hung up and groaned, resting his head on the car roof.

  “Well, well, well,” Gardiner said. “Trouble at home?”

  Blake raised his head and looked at him. “What?”

  “Even Mr Perfect is telling fibs to his other half. It’s nice to see some flaws in that oh so solid personality.”

  “Don’t,” Blake grumbled. “I feel bad enough as it is. He wants me to be relaxing at home with only that bloody goat for company. And she wants me dead more than you do. I’m not the stay at home type, especially when I’ve got a case like this to crack. Now, come on.”

  Gardiner watched as Blake winced slightly at yet another pain in his side. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Blake said dismissively.

  “You don’t look it,” Gardiner observed. “Still, if the worst happens, at least we’re in the right place.” He smiled cheerfully at Blake and walked towards the entrance. “Come on.”

  They arrived on 7A and made their way towards the reception desk. The ward was busy as usual, and Blake was at a slight loss about where they should begin.

  “Might I suggest that we start with witnesses to some of these arguments?” Gardiner said. “They might be able to tell us how dysfunctional their relationship really was.”

  “See?” Blake said brightly. “I would never have thought of that.”

  Gardiner looked like he was not sure whether Blake was being sarcastic.

  “In that case,” Blake added. “I think we should speak to Stan. He’s a porter, and he told me that he heard them shouting at each other plenty of times.” He held his hand out as a nurse rushed past him. “Excuse me,” he said. “I’m looking for Stan Alderman?”

  The nurse turned around and stared at Blake in surprise. It was Chloe Prendergast. Blake remembered her as the anaesthetist who had taken him down for his operation.

  “Oh, Mr Harte, isn’t it?” Chloe said, smiling her bucked teeth grin at him. Blake could not help but feel that her teeth were sticking out even more than they had been than the first time he had met her. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m alright. I’m actually here in an official capacity,” Blake explained. “Actually, you seemed to know Kelsey pretty well when I saw you both talking. Do you remember when you were taking me down for my operation?”

  “Oh, yeah, Kelsey’s lovely,” Chloe beamed. “I’ve felt so sorry for her during this whole thing. It’s just been awful for her. I’ve not seen her, obviously, since it happened. Do you know how she is?”

  Blake and Gardiner exchanged looks. “She’s doing okay,” Blake said at last. “I was wanting to talk to you about anything you might know about her relationship with Joe Tilsley. Did you know him well?”

  Chloe shrugged. “On and off. He worked on this ward for a little while before he moved upstairs. They seemed pretty close.”

  “And what did you make of him?”

  “Not a lot to make of him, really. I thought he seemed a bit arrogant. Kelsey loved him though, so I guess that’s all that matters.”

  “Does the name Lucy Pennock mean anything to you?” Gardiner asked her, with a doubtful expression. Blake could tell that he had taken in Chloe’s large frame, short hair and dopey exterior and already built himself a picture of someone that would be of very little help.

  Chloe scratched the back of her head. “It rings a bell. Is she on telly?”

  “Well, she was,” Blake conceded. “She was killed in a hit and run accident last year. She would have been on the news. We have reason to believe that Joe Tilsley was the driver.”

  Chloe’s mouth opened in shock. “I knew he was bad news. I didn’t think he was capable of that though. Did he do it on purpose?”

  “We’re investigating all possibilities.”

  Chloe put the folder she was carrying on the reception desk and crossed her arms, shaking her head. “Poor Kelsey. She must be absolutely in bits.”

  “Actually,” Gardiner interrupted, “we have reason to believe she was involved. In fact, we know she was.”

  Chloe’s head shot round to Gardiner, her bright exterior replaced by one of anger. “Kelsey isn’t like that. She’s one of the kindest, most gentle people I’ve ever met! You don’t have any right to go around throwing accusations at her like that.”

  Blake glanced at Gardiner who looked like he wanted to argue back and held up a hand. “Alright, alright. Chloe, we’re just investigating all possibilities, but we do know that Kelsey was there at the time of Lucy’s death, and we’re trying to find out how it’s all connected to Joe’s death.”

  “Did you say you were looking for Stan?” Chloe asked. “I saw him upstairs. Ward Nine. He was fixing a light fixture in the staff room. Do you need to ask me anything else, because I honestly don’t know any more than what I’ve already told you? But Kelsey would never harm anybody. When I first came here, she was really good to me. I don’t have many friends, but Kelsey is one of them. I’m fully prepared to be a character witness or something for her.”

  Blake nodded. “Thank you, Chloe. I’m sure she’d really appreciate your support. Thanks for telling us about Stan. I’ll come and find you if I need anything else, alright?”

  Chloe nodded, then threw another glare at Gardiner and waddled away down the corridor. Gardiner exhaled, watching her leave with a distasteful expression. “She’s not exactly gifted, is she? On the outside or the inside of her head.”

  “Don’t be horrible, Michael,” Blake told him, watching Chloe vanish around the corner. “I thought she was quite helpful, actually. I wonder.”

  “What do you wonder?” Gardiner asked, with a disdainful sigh.

  “Come to think of it, I recognise her. Chloe.”

  “So do I,” Gardiner said shrugging. “You can see her on the roof of any cathedral.”

  “I forgot you had women queuing up ‘round the village to take you out,” Blake reminded him. “I remember now. Me and Harrison went to the gay bar in Clackton a few months back. She was there.”

  “What, her? That dainty little thing?” Gardiner exclaimed. “Surely not.”

  “Will you shut up a minute? My point is that if I remember rightly, she was chucked out. I don’t know what for, but I remember seeing a couple of bouncers dragging her across the
dancefloor. Maybe she has a bit of a temper on her. She doesn’t sound that keen on Joe either.”

  “Are we going to see this porter or not?” Gardiner asked impatiently.

  “Hmm,” said Blake thoughtfully. “Come on then. We’ll take the lift. Have a look, see if you can find anything helpful when we’re in there.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry, I have a theory about what went on inside that lift,” Gardiner replied as they made their way towards the elevator.

  “Do you?” Blake asked as he pressed the call button.

  “Tilsley was stuck in this thing, right? For twenty minutes or so?”

  “Right.”

  The lift doors opened and they both stepped inside. Gardiner pressed the button for the ninth floor and continued. “If we got stuck in this lift right now, what would be the first thing you’d do?”

  “I’d shout for help, press the emergency button and try and get in touch with someone.” Blake replied, unsure where Gardiner was going with this.

  “Exactly,” Gardiner said triumphantly. “I noticed on the day of the murder that these lifts don’t have phones. I know some do, but these have these speaker systems installed instead.”

  As the lift began to climb, Blake followed Gardiner’s eye line to the grate above the buttons to the floors.

  “Look at these holes,” Gardiner went on, pointing to the small holes that made up the speaker. What if something was installed in this lift that made it so that when the lift stopped between floors, water began to pour out of these holes?”

  “Out of the speaker system?” Blake clarified.

  “Exactly,” Gardiner said proudly. “This lift breaking down was no accident. Once Tilsley is inside, the lift grinds to a halt and water begins to fill this compartment.”

  Blake cocked his head to the side. He was finding it very difficult to offer Gardiner any positives to his theory. “Okay,” he settled on. “Where does the water go?”

  Gardiner smiled smugly, clearly reaching the most genius part of his theory. “It gets drained out. You can get these industrial sucker things to get rid of large amounts of water. All you’d need to do it get the pipe in here.”