by Noreen Mayer
Brendan's brow creased. 'If Pamela drowned, there's no foul play.'
Libby said gravely, 'I think Pamela was murdered.'
He stared at her in silence, and took a sip of his beer. 'Murdered? Why would you think that? She left a suicide note, Conor told me.'
'The Gardaí didn't find her fingerprints on that note.' Libby's expression was intense. 'I reckon she didn't type it.'
'How are you getting on with the flat?' asked Brendan abruptly, his expression wooden.
Libby realised he was purposely ignoring her last remark. 'Oh, yes,' she replied, 'I meant to tell you earlier, but with all this happening, I forgot. I'll be moving out of your flat soon. I've found a new house in Ballyhasset, and I've put in an offer.'
Chapter 2
2
Libby's son came into the living room to talk to his mother, on the following Monday evening. Libby sat watching the television with her legs stretched out.
Andrew perched himself on the edge of the sofa, his long legs dangling, facing her. Libby gazed at her son's long blond hair, it almost reached his shoulders. She wished she could get a scissors at it and snip it short, to make him look like a boy instead of a girl.
'I met a doctor, today,' he said. His face was flushed with excitement. 'I told him that I was thinking about becoming a doctor myself.'
Libby gazed at him with relief. 'What happened to your idea of becoming a fisherman?'
'I went out on the boats twice with my friend's Dad.'
Her eyes narrowed. 'You never told me this.'
'Because I knew you would have kicked up,' he said. 'You'd have tried to stop me.'
'I certainly would. Well then, what happened?'
He hesitated for a few seconds. 'I fell off the boat. I fell into the sea.'
'When did this happen?'
'It's all right, calm down, Ma,' he said, sighing heavily. 'I managed to swim to safety. I am a good swimmer, you know, and I was wearing my life jacket. The waters were calm. I was never in any danger.'
'You never told me, just sneaked out,' she said angrily. 'When did you do this?' She waited, but he did not answer. 'Last week was it? When I thought you were with your father?'
He nodded. His face became red. 'Aren't you going to let me finish?'
'Go ahead.' Libby sank down in the chair, feeling defeated.
'I got a fright. That put me off the whole idea of doing this full time. I was okay that day, the sea was calm. But it's a fierce dangerous job in bad weather.' He shook his head. 'No, fishing's not for me.'
'Glad you've finally seen sense,' said Libby.
'Do you want to hear about my new choice of career?' Andrew asked her.
'Sure. Fire away.' Here we go again, she thought. What's his next hair-brained plan? She switched the TV channel, feeling angry.
'Doctor Raman Sharma, the Indian doctor - he showed me around the Emergency Room. I watched him stitch a child's knee.'
Libby looked at him in surprise. 'So you met Raman.'
'Yeah, in the hospital. I was visiting my friend Donal. You know him, you met him before. He's the one with the broken leg.'
'Yeah, you introduced me to him,' replied Libby as she watched the current affairs program on RTE.
'Anyway, I introduced myself to Doctor Raman.'
'He's a friendly guy all right,' Libby said.
'Yeah, we got talking. He said he knew you. I told him I wanted to be a doctor. I asked him if I could follow him around for a bit, so I could watch him at his work.'
'That was clever of you,' Libby said.
'I saw Doctor Raman treat a child who fell off a swing. He cleaned up the cut and put in three stitches. Really neat they were.'
She smiled. 'It's really nice of Raman to go to all that trouble for you.'
'Then the doctor brought me in with him when he spoke to a man with a pain in his stomach.' Andrew stopped and took a breath. 'I saw him use his stethoscope on the man's chest.'
Libby listened with amusement. She hadn't seen Andrew this excited in years.
'I saw the wards with the beds of sick patients, and the nurse's station where the nurses answer the phones and stuff.'
'So are you going back again to the hospital to see him?' asked Libby.
He nodded. 'Doctor Raman's promised to show me the mortuary next time.' His eyes grew round. 'Where they cut up dead bodies.'
'You still need to get top marks in your Leaving Cert to be a doctor,' Libby said.
'I know, but my teachers say I might get the marks. I'm the best in my class.'
'Fine, you obviously take after your father. Anyway, we'll wait and see how you get on in your exams before you make any career plans.'
***
The next day, Libby rang Raman at the hospital to thank him for helping her son. Raman agreed to have a drink with her in the Green Lemon on Tuesday evening. Libby bought a glass of lager, while she waited for him at the bar counter. The pub was busy for a weekday. Many men sat the counter drinking pints and reading newspapers. She was conscious of the constant clinking of glasses as the two barmen cleared the tables and wiped ashtrays.
After a few minutes, Raman arrived breathless. 'Sorry, I got held up.'
'Have you been working until now?' Libby asked.
He nodded. 'I don't get home till after seven any night.' Raman ordered a drink for himself from the young waitress who approached the table.
'Thanks for helping my son. Andrew wanted to be a fisherman, up until now. Such a tough job.'
'Being a doctor is tough too.' Raman's dark eyes shone. 'But it's very rewarding, I love it.'
'It's great Andrew has changed his mind about his choice of career. He now wants to be a doctor. What a relief for me, I can tell you. I had all sorts of dreams about hearing he had drowned at sea.' Libby took a gulp of her drink. 'I'll cook you a meal to thank you properly. Tell me when you're free, and we'll arrange it.'
He smiled serenely at her. 'I'm glad to help. I'm looking forward to this meal, as long as it's vegetarian, of course. I'm a Hindu, you see.'
'Vegetarian it will be, then.' She remained silent for a while as she watched people leave their tables. 'I tell you the only type of doctor I don't like - psychiatrists.'
He stared at her in surprise. 'Why?'
'They're a crowd of con artists. My sister keeps going to treatment centres for alcoholism. She’s met about six psychiatrists, but none of them managed to cure her.'
'Your sister has to make up her own mind anyway to give up alcohol, and use a bit of common sense.'
'You're right, I suppose.' Libby sighed as she noticed the pub beginning to fill up with people. The air was smoky.
'Are you married, Doctor?'
'No, still single,' replied Raman with a smile.
She smiled back. 'Isn't there a girl at home in India waiting for you, then?'
'Sadly, no.' His face brightened as he added, 'But I will marry an Indian girl if I do go home. I couldn't bring a white girl out there. My family would have a heart attack.'
'Are you from a rural area?' she asked.
Raman nodded. 'Yes, it's a farming village in the South. We're very conservative and fairly poor.'
Libby smiled. 'I'd say any Irish woman would get a shock if you brought her there.'
'Of course, I may never go back to India.' He drank his beer. 'I may be lucky and find a permanent post in a Cork hospital.'
She watched a couple moving away from the table in front of them. 'All those long hours of work must put a strain on you, do they not?'
He was silent. She could see he was considering his reply. 'Yes, sometimes I appear offhand to patients simply because I'm tired.'
'Is this why Kathleen was such a terror?' she asked. 'Was she stressed out?'
'Partly why. Also, don't forget she was a woman in a man's field. This may be 1972, but we still need a lot more women consultants.'
'Yeah, she must have felt isolated at times.' Libby looked at him with scepticism. 'Kathleen was married, t
hough. She could talk to her husband.'
Raman took a large gulp from his glass of his beer. 'He wouldn't have understood. You have to talk to another doctor about these things.'
'She had Pamela if she wanted. However, Kathleen ill-treated Pamela, instead of making her a friend. In fact, Pamela said she was downright nasty.'
'True,' he replied, 'I saw her insulting Pamela several times. Kathleen was a bully.'
'I don't feel sorry for her then.' Libby scowled. 'If Kathleen was such a dragon, how did she expect people to be friendly to her?'
Raman shrugged. 'She told me she hated working in this small town.'
'Really, why's that?'
'I don't know, but I heard a rumour she had to take this job because she was asked to leave the Bon Secours in Cork.'
'Why was that?' Libby's eyes grew round.
'I don't know. I asked Kathleen, but she denied it all.'
'Do you like working at St Gabriel's?' asked Libby.
Raman's face brightened. 'I love the hospital and the town. If I get an extension on my visa, I'll remain on here, for sure.'
Libby asked him if he thought Pamela had been stressed before she died.
His expression became serious. 'She had some stress, like all interns have. The intern year is terrible, because the work is new and the hours are very long.'
Libby nodded. 'Yeah, Pamela told me all that.'
'When I met Pamela first as an intern I gave her the advice I was given when I started. You have to look after your health, get enough rest on your days off and stop worrying. You will make mistakes because you are only starting. You must ask for help if you're unsure about something. At the same time you can't be too cautious, you have to take risks in order to learn. After the intern year we learned enough medicine to worry less about saving patients and more about saving ourselves.'
'Well, at least you got through it, the intern year, I mean.'
He gave a sigh. 'Most of us do, we have to. A few don't manage to, they either leave or commit suicide. That is the sad truth of the times we live in. But that's all in the past for me. I'm a registrar now. I have only to sit one more exam to become a fully qualified surgeon. I hope I pass, because I can tell you I'm tired of all this studying.'
***
Libby arranged to meet Raman on the following day at the hospital. It was a wet morning. Dawn collected her in her little red Austin Mini.
'Where to?' Dawn asked.
'St Gabriel's Hospital again. Raman said Shane hasn't turned up for work for a few days.'
Dawn asked, 'Shane's a junior doctor, am I right?'
Libby frowned. 'Yes. You should know that by now. Shane works on the surgery ward. Raman thinks he's stealing drugs.'
Dawn sighed. 'I'm getting sick of that place. Talk about a den of iniquity.'
'How's the gym going?' Libby asked.
Dawn made a face. 'Okay, but I prefer jogging outside in the air to all this indoor stuff. At least then I feel I'm going somewhere.' She turned the steering wheel. 'Even if it's only a few laps around the pier.'
'I must start running again myself,' Libby said. 'I've no excuse now, with this new pup we have.' Her voice trailed off as she realised Dawn was driving too fast. 'Slow down Dawn, we want to get there in one piece.'
They walked into the hospital reception area, after finding a parking space. Dawn asked the receptionist in the main lobby to page Raman. They waited for him to arrive. A few minutes later, Raman came striding down the corridor toward them, his large white coat flapping. He seemed pleased to see them.
'I just wanted to tell you about these missing tablets.' Raman's narrow face had an intense expression. 'I know who's responsible, but I've no proof.' Raman had arranged for Dawn and Libby to meet Sister Ellen, a ward sister, and the most senior nurse in the hospital. She was also a nun. They chose a small private room near the reception area, which was bare except for a desk and four chairs.
Sister Ellen sat down with them. She told them she had worked in St Gabriel's for thirty years. She explained she organised the drugs cabinet on the surgical ward, and she counted the drugs to make sure the numbers were correct.
'What's the normal security procedure for medicines?' Libby asked.
'The drugs cabinet is locked and kept on a trolley. A pair of nurses brings it around the ward when they hand the drugs out.'
'So that's the only time it's not locked.'
Sister Ellen nodded. 'That's right.'
'Which drugs were stolen?'
Sister Ellen said, 'Ten bottles of Dalmane and fifteen bottles of Valium.'
'Who would have access to the cabinet when it was unlocked… or any other time?'
'Any one of the staff. But the two nurses who normally work the night shift on my ward must have left the cabinet open.' The nurse's brow creased. 'I'm keeping a closer eye on them now.'
'Somebody was careless,' Libby said.
'Extremely careless,' agreed the nurse, tightening her lips. 'Leaving the cabinet open like that. Disgraceful.'
'Where do you keep the key?'
'In my pocket all the time,' said the nurse firmly. 'No one took the key, I'm sure about that.'
Libby thanked her, and the head staff nurse left.
'I'm telling you,' said Raman. 'Shane took those medicines. He's been acting weird, particularly in the last week or so and now he hasn't come in the last three days at all. There's no answer at his house when I called, and he's not answering his phone either.'
'What was Shane doing on the ward that was so weird?' asked Libby.
'He's been giving patients extra Valium and vitamins which they don't need, all on his own authority.'
Libby gazed at him blankly. 'What for?'
'He told me it will give us all less work, the patients will be quieter.'
'Well, I guess that would calm them down, would it not?'
Raman said frowning, 'We could give too much sedation, that's the problem.'
Libby mused, 'I think Shane has the right idea. I'd like plenty of painkillers if I was sick, to get rid of the pain, I mean.'
Raman got heated. 'Shane doesn't even tell anyone else what he's doing, nor does he write it in the charts.'
Libby gazed at him. Oh, that’s a serious breach of protocol, isn’t it?
Raman's eyes narrowed. 'Of course it is. You see, it's as if Shane's mind is somewhere else. He could harm someone. Sedation can be fatal, you know. Someone could die.'
It sounds like Shane is taking those drugs himself, she thought. 'Well, what have you done about this, Raman?'
'I've told our boss.' Raman continued, 'Shane never turned up on Monday or the next two days. The last time I saw him was last Saturday, in the pub.'
On Wednesday afternoon, Libby called to Shane's new semi-detached house in Ballyhasset town. She wanted to see if he had returned however, no one answered the doorbell. A full bottle of milk stood on the doorstep. Evidently, Shane was not at home.
Libby rang the nearest neighbour's doorbell. She heard the sound of a bolt being drawn back. Opening the door cautiously, a thin elderly man of around seventy stood there. He wore a dirty red dressing gown and smiled at Libby with toothless gums.
Libby asked him if he knew his neighbour, Dr Shane Collins well.
'I met that fellow Shane a few times,' he answered slowly, 'he's a nice friendly lad. I usually see him coming in and out, from my kitchen window.'
'Have you seen him recently?' Libby asked.
The old man shook his head. 'I saw no sign of him in the last few days at all.'
'Fair enough,' she replied, 'I'm sorry for interrupting you.'
'Not a bother,' said the old man, and closed his front door.
Libby needed to find Shane to talk to him again about Dr Kathleen Lynch. She pondered on whether Shane had something to do with Kathleen's death, and had gone into hiding somewhere. Or had his disappearance to do with drugs? she wondered.
Chapter 23
Libby spoke to Conor in the Green
Lemon on Thursday. Conor's face was pale. He held his hands clasped together.
'Do you have a drug habit?' she asked, coming straight to the point.
'No, I don't now, but I used to,' he replied. 'I began snorting cocaine two years ago but I stopped completely a few months ago. I'm completely clean now.'
'I believe you owe money to Shane,' she said.
'Yes, I do,' Conor admitted. He buried his head in his hands.
'How much?' Libby asked.
He hesitated. 'Over four thousand pounds.'
'Tell me what happened the night he disappeared.'
'Shane came into the Gents and bumped into me. I could tell he was drunk - his voice was loud and aggressive. He demanded his money back.'
'What happened next?' Libby asked.
'I told Shane I didn't have the money, I begged him for more time.'
'Did he agree to this?'
Conor said, 'Not at first. He said he was sick of me. He said I had to learn to pay my debts. I got angry.' Conor took out a handkerchief and wiped his sweaty forehead. 'I gave Shane a small puck in the face. He hit me back on the jaw. After that, we both calmed down. He said he'd give me one more week to find the cash.'
'Why do you owe so much money? According to Brendan, your finances are in good shape.'
'Well, they are, but all my cash is tied up.'
She stared at him in disbelief. 'In what?'
Conor sighed again. 'In my two houses and the business.'
'And cocaine is very expensive,' Libby added.
Conor avoided her gaze and stared at the floor. 'Yes, that too.'
Libby made her way down to the outpatients’ department in the east wing, on the Thursday evening. It was after six and all the patients and most of the medical staff had gone home. Raman was sitting at a desk with his head bent over a large file. She noticed his white coat and blue scrubs as he glanced up at her, looking distracted.
'Sorry to disturb you, Doctor. It's about your colleague, Shane. Has he come back yet?'
Raman shook his head. He said, sounding weary, 'Shane never turned up for work this morning again.' He gave Libby a sharp look. The last time I saw him was when we went for a few drinks to the Green Lemon.'