by Wonny Lea
Maria went into a confusing account of what she and Sarah had become concerned about, but Martin stopped her. ‘I suggest we all drink our coffee and wait for Sister Thomas to get back. It’s likely she will be saying the same sort of things that you are, so rather than go through things twice it will be better if you go through things together and starting at the beginning.’
A glimmer of a smile appeared on Maria’s face. ‘You don’t need to be polite, Chief Inspector,’ she said. ‘I know I jump about all over the place, it’s the same with my NVQ essays. Sarah helps me with those too.’
Martin had only taken two sips of his coffee when Sarah came back and smiled at Matt. ‘Hope you didn’t mind me ringing you instead of the emergency services?’ she asked him. ‘It was just that I didn’t want the ambulance service or the police simply coming in and removing Mr Doster’s body without a full investigation. I don’t know if his suicide has anything to do with the things I have been looking at but I do know that the last time I spoke to him he was very defensive about our policy for non-admission to hospital – a policy I didn’t even know existed.’
Matt reassured Sarah regarding her phone call and introduced her to Martin. ‘Detective Chief Inspector Phelps is already on record as saying he will now look at every aspect of the business here, and that will involve looking at all your recent concerns as well as scrutinising all the administrative and financial arrangements.’
Sarah turned to Martin. ‘On that subject, do you think I should get hold of Mr Cooper, the owner, and tell him what has happened?’
‘No,’ replied Martin. ‘I think you should avoid any discussions with Mr Cooper. We will make the call and explain the situation to him, as apart from anything else I would like first-hand knowledge of his reaction.’
‘Oh, and what should we do about Peter Doster’s family?’ Sarah suddenly looked quite distressed. ‘I’m ashamed to say that until this moment I hadn’t even given them a thought. I’ve only met his wife once and she seemed like a shy but very nice woman, and there are children … God, I hadn’t even given them a thought, how caring does that make me?’
Again it was Matt who reassured her. ‘Finding the body the way you did must have been one hell of a shock, especially coming on top of a few days when you have been getting increasingly concerned for the welfare of some of the residents. As soon as we leave here we will be going to break the news to Mr Doster’s family.’
Before he could say any more there was a knock on the door and a young man, dressed in white ‘scrubs’ with a nursing agency logo embroidered on the pocket, walked in, and Sarah rose to greet him.
‘Thanks for coming so quickly, Craig. I asked for you because someone told me you’re working for the agency, but it’s not that long since you worked here so you will at least know the geography of the place.’
She turned to Martin. ‘We aren’t allowed to use agency nurses without Mr Doster’s consent, and there has only been one other occasion when he agreed, but under the circumstances I needed cover so that’s why Craig is here.’
‘The agency was shocked to get your call,’ said Craig. ‘Tania, one of our recruitment consultants, told me she had asked you to check twice as she couldn’t believe ‘Do-me-a-deal Doster’ was allowing an agency shift, or at least part of one. But I will need to be paid for …’
Sarah interrupted and asked Martin if she was allowed to tell Craig what had happened. To spare her the need to do so, Martin told Craig as much as he needed to know, and the man looked highly embarrassed because of what he had just called Mr Doster.
Sarah suggested that they move out of the office and into the relatives’ room, so that Craig could have access to everything he needed. She offered to do a round of the residents with him but he said he would manage. ‘I’m used to being dropped in at the deep end,’ he assured her, ‘and it’s not as if you’re leaving the premises.’
He went off to make himself known to the other staff and the residents, many of whom he remembered from when he worked on the staff at Parkland. There was a buzz of excitement throughout the home, mainly because of the arrival of the police and the large white van with the official South Wales Police logo and marked with the words ‘Crime Investigation Unit’.
There were speculations about who the cream-coloured Lexus belonged to but no one guessed that the owner was both a distinguished professor and a brilliant pathologist – the best guess was it must be one of Cooper’s cronies!
Martin, Matt, Sarah, and Maria settled themselves around the table in the relatives’ room, and Martin asked Matt to remind them all of the events leading up to his first visit to Parkland. Matt did this and then continued with details of the actual visit.
He explained that Mr Morris, the man who had attracted Sergeant Evans’ attention, was the relative of a Mr Colin James who had died the previous evening. He said that it was during their discussions that Sarah had mentioned how surprised she had been by Colin’s sudden and unexpected death.
‘I questioned whether any death in the home could be classed as sudden or unexpected, given the age and medical profile of the residents,’ said Matt. ‘But she put me right on that.’
‘Yes,’ said Sarah. ‘Although our residents are old there are a number of them who are fit and any underlying medical conditions they may have are not life-threatening. When Matt asked that question I particularly remembered Nancy Coleman, who had died when I was on holiday about six months ago. I was really surprised to find that not only had she died, but she was both dead and buried before I returned to work.’
Matt interjected. ‘I asked Sarah to have a think about any other occasions when, with the benefit of hindsight, there were things that were perhaps not quite right.’ He looked at Sarah. ‘To be perfectly honest, I thought that was the last we would hear on the matter, but obviously Sarah had different ideas. As I recall, we were the interrupted by the crass arrival of Mr Cooper, and our meeting broke up soon after.’
‘So, Sarah, you were left pondering on the question of whether or not some of the residents had met an untimely death and, if so, how had it been orchestrated and who was responsible,’ summarised Martin.
‘Well, I hadn’t rationalised it that clearly at the time, but over the past few days yes, I suppose I have been thinking along those lines,’ Sarah said. ‘When I met with Maria on Monday evening I was quite amazed by some of our findings.’
‘Tell me about that,’ encouraged Martin. ‘What did you and Maria discover?’
Martin listened with increasing interest as Sarah, with occasional input from Maria, explained how they had decided to think of residents whose death had been something of a surprise and had independently come up with lists of names that with one exception were identical.
‘I had one more name than Sarah,’ said Maria. ‘But that was because Mavis Clegg was admitted when Sarah was on holiday, and died just one night after she arrived.’
‘That does happen,’ remarked Sarah. ‘Maria said she was surprised by the woman’s death and so we kept her name on our list.’
‘Have you got that list handy?’ asked Martin.
As Sarah took the list from her uniform pocket, the door opened and Alex filled its frame. ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he began. ‘Just to let you know that we’ve finished upstairs and we’re about to move the body and some other bits and pieces back to Goleudy. Professor Moore says he’s in Edinburgh tomorrow, so he wants to crack on with the PM as soon as possible. He believes there’s nothing to indicate anything other than suicide, and he’s usually right, but he’ll give you a full report later.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Martin. ‘I’ll see you later. Oh, by the way, before you go will you ask PC Davies to bring down those records that were on Mr Doster’s desk – bag them if you need to, and bag that red pen – it may be evidence. It was certainly used to mark those notes, and we need to take a look at them.’
When Alex had gone, Matt explained who he was and what his role would be in determining a
correct verdict regarding the cause of death of Peter Doster.
‘What an interesting job he has,’ remarked Sarah. ‘Probably a bit gruesome at times, but very interesting.’ She handed what was by now a rather crumpled piece of paper over to Martin. ‘Here it is. This is the list of names Maria and I came up with, and the second list is the similarities between all the cases.’
‘Remind me what they are?’
‘Well, not one of these residents on that list was confined to bed. They were all able to walk about, some with the aid of a stick but the majority could make it to the shops or even the pub – like Colin James. So both Maria and I, especially with the benefit of hindsight, were surprised when they died.
‘None of them had families that visited, although they all had relatives and we know that in a number of cases their next of kin had a meeting with Mr Cooper shortly before their death. The residents had not been visited by their relatives but we may find instructions in their notes regarding their non-admission to hospital. On at least one occasion I know for certain that the request was made without the knowledge of the resident to whom it referred, and I suspect it was the same with the others.’
‘Sorry,’ said Martin. ‘I’m not really sure what you mean.’
‘OK, well, under normal circumstances, if a resident is suddenly taken ill it would be just the same as if they were at home. We would send for the doctor and if the condition was treatable, for example pneumonia, they would most likely be admitted to hospital.’ Sarah continued. ‘Very occasionally we have a resident who expresses a wish not to be admitted under any circumstances, and to cover ourselves legally we ensure that those wishes are recorded in the medical records and are signed and dated by the doctor. The same would be the case if they refused any other sort of treatment or medical advice.’
‘But it doesn’t happen very often?’ asked Martin.
‘Only once since I’ve been here,’ said Sarah ‘and I’ve never known the relatives’ wishes override those of the resident.’
Maria intervened. ‘The other thing that struck me was that all these patients collapsed and died when Sarah was either on annual leave or had a long weekend, and that’s the case with every one of them. When I think back, there were several times when I believe that if Sarah had been around she would have used her own judgement and sent for an ambulance anyway.’
Martin rose to his feet, but as he did so asked the two women if they could think of anyone who would benefit from the death of the residents they had identified. Neither Sarah nor Maria responded immediately but then Sarah spoke. ‘I am probably speaking out of turn,’ she said. ‘I was due to go off for a long weekend just before Colin James died, but I had to work the Friday because of staff shortages. There was even the possibility that I would have to cancel my weekend.
‘At about eight o’clock in the evening I was told that Mr Cooper was still in his office and wanted to see me. It’s unusual for him to be here that late and when I went up it was obvious he had been entertaining, as there were empty glasses and bottles of whisky and he had definitely been drinking.’
‘He told me that he had been speaking to Colin James’s daughter and her husband – by the way, he’s the man Sergeant Evans saw in the corridor. I was told that after speaking to her father Mrs Morris wanted to be sure that everyone was aware of his wishes not to be admitted to hospital under any circumstances. She had apparently told Mr Cooper that she had concerns about her father’s care and I’m afraid that at that point I lost my temper.’
‘I had been speaking to Colin not long before I went to Mr Cooper’s office and I know for certain that his daughter hadn’t seen him for months – they weren’t even here at Christmas.’
‘As I left the office I noticed a very large bundle of £20 notes alongside the whisky bottles, and although I only gave them a passing thought at the time I wondered …’
Chapter Eighteen
Motives Considered
Sarah had been able to give Martin the address of the Doster family, and she had also remembered that Peter’s wife’s name was Carol.
The family home was a period, mid-terraced property on Plasturton Avenue and like the nursing home it was within the Pontcanna area of Cardiff. As Martin parked on the road outside the house he could see that the building was in pristine condition, with immaculately groomed hedges and well-ordered flowered borders. The front door was painted a dark navy, almost black, and the brass fittings were without a single finger-mark. The outside of Peter Doster’s house reminded Martin of the inside of the administrator’s office – there was a place for everything and everything was in its place.
Matt rang the doorbell and from inside came a woman’s voice. ‘Use your key, Peter, I’m at a critical point with your omelette.’
It then dawned on the two detectives that if Peter was a nine to five man, now would be the time he would normally get home. There was nothing for it but to ring the bell again, and this time they could hear someone walking down the hall and the door opened.
Clearly expecting to see her husband on the doorstep, Mrs Doster stared enquiringly at the two men who faced her.
‘Good evening,’ said Martin showing his official ID. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Phelps and this is Detective Sergeant Pryor. Are you Carol Doster?’
‘Yes,’ was the quiet response. ‘Sorry, but I thought you were my husband, I can usually set my watch by him, but he’s a few minutes late today.’
As she spoke, Martin could see she had already guessed that something had prevented Peter from coming home this evening, and she walked back down the hall and into the lounge just assuming that the detectives would follow her.
The inside of the house mirrored the outside. There was nothing out of place and everything about it had a purpose. The only thing that helped turn the house into a home was a large silver-framed photograph on one of the shelves. In spite of the way in which he had seen him earlier Martin recognised the man as Peter Doster and the woman was Carol, so presumably the two girls were their daughters. Judging by Carol’s appearance it was a fairly recent photograph, so Martin guessed the girls’ ages as somewhere between twelve and fifteen. How would they cope with the terrible news about their father?
Carol had sat down and motioned with her arms for Martin and Matt to sit down too.
‘Is there anyone you would like us to get for you, because I can see you have guessed that we are here with some very bad news,’ said Martin.
‘The only person I would like you to get is Peter,’ came the quiet reply. ‘But I have no doubt that you have come here to tell me he is dead – am I right?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Martin. ‘I am most dreadfully sorry.’
Martin waited for the news to sink in and expected Mrs Doster to break down but she held herself together and asked the questions Martin braced himself for. ‘How did he die – was it a car accident? Where was it?’
‘Not an accident,’ replied Martin, rising from his chair and walking over to where Carol was sitting. He took both her hands and told her the dreadful truth. ‘We have every reason to believe your husband took his own life. He was discovered hanging from a beam in his office, and much to everyone’s regret it was too late for any help to be given.’
Mrs Doster startled Martin as she stood up, released her hands and physically pushed him away. ‘You liar!’ she shouted. ‘You liar! Peter would never do a thing like that, you didn’t know him. They say it takes courage to commit suicide, so let me tell you something, Inspector – courage was the one thing completely missing from Peter’s make up.’
She sat back down and sobbed piteously and Martin suggested to Matt that he find the kitchen and put the kettle on. Matt did so and walked into a kitchen that had a dining table at one end and a pan on the range containing what was now a very flat, cold omelette.
The table was laid for just two people with cutlery, wine glasses, and napkins in place, and a small vase of flowers in the centre. Next to the flowe
rs was a wine cooler and a bottle of rosé was chilling, waiting to be uncorked. Matt had no idea about the Dosters’ normal evening meals, but this looked like one arranged for some sort of celebration.
After a few minutes he headed back to the lounge with a tray of mugs full of tea and some extra milk and sugar. In Matt’s absence Martin had been told where to find a book of addresses and telephone numbers, and he handed it to Matt, asking him to ring Carol’s sister.
‘Apparently she lives in the next street, so could be here within a few minutes – and it may or may not be a good thing but the two girls are on a camping holiday with the Guides. They only went this morning and Carol was just telling me that this would have been about the first night she and Peter would have had alone since the girls were born.’ As Martin spoke, Matt’s mind went back to the kitchen.
He thought about the beautifully arranged dining table, and wondered what could have caused Peter Doster to do what he did – and today of all days.
Carol was relatively calm, much more than anyone could have expected, and she had been talking to Martin about her sister and the girls, but now Martin knew he had to take her somewhere she would not want to go – but he had no choice.
‘I have to ask you some questions that you may find difficult, and if you like I can wait until your sister gets here – DS Pryor is phoning her now.’
‘No,’ was Carol’s reply. ‘I know when I see my sister we’ll both be in bits, so let’s get the questions over with.’
‘Can you think of any reason why your husband would have committed suicide?’ asked Martin, trying to make it sound like an everyday, routine question.
‘It would have been nothing whatsoever to do with us,’ she said in a whisper. ‘We met at university and have had the happiest of marriages.’ Tears welled up again in her eyes but she continued. ‘I don’t mean we were always happy, we had our share of ups and downs like most people, but there was only ever one thing on which we totally disagreed.’