'Did you?'
'No.'
'I thought not.'
'No need to.' She gave a cat-like smile. 'I smiled at them and said nice things and they smiled back and said nice things to me, and they hated every minute of it. It was great'.' She let out a huge sigh. 'But they who laugh last, eh? And I had such plans, it was going to be the best run place in the…' Her face suddenly crumpled and she let out a sob. 'What the hell am I going to do, Verity?' She began to cry, then took a breath, swallowed. 'I'm sorry, I…’
'No, let it come,' Verity said, moving swiftly over to her. She took her in her arms and held her. Jessie sobbed, feeling the wetness of her tears against Verity's cotton jumper.
After a while, she stopped crying and Verity's fingers began gently massaging her, first her back, then her shoulders, her neck, and she felt more relaxed than she could remember.
'Thank you,' she breathed, 'thank you, thank you…'
Verity whispered, 'There now…'
Jessie thought, I could die now and be happy.
'There now…' Verity whispered, her mouth against her ear, then her neck, her cheek, her own mouth and it was so natural, her lips were clean, soft, sweet… the tips of their tongues met, circled, set up a tingling wave of electrons that surged softly back through her face, neck, body…
She couldn't remember when last another person had made her feel so good.
At last, Verity drew back and Jessie realised she was trembling all over, from the very top of her head, through her loins to the tips of her toes.
Verity whispered, 'I think we'd better go upstairs…'
Chapter Nine
Monday … Dr Ewan Randall kicked himself – hard, on the ankle.
The PM hadn't established any cause of death. He'd briefly considered electrocution, but there were no burns, so he'd then had samples taken to send to the Poisons Unit at Guy's. He'd been on the point of leaving it at that when one of his technicians spoke up.
'Can I suggest something, doctor?'
'Well?'
'Couldn't he have frozen to death?'
Of course he could ...
He said carefully. 'You might have a point there, Simon – it would explain the pancreatitis we found, wouldn't it?' Not to mention the frostbite and discoloration… 'So what else, what other sign of hypothermia should we be looking for?'
'The stomach lining for erosions?'
'Very good.'
And there they were – not many, and very small, but erosions in the lining of the stomach.
'Well done, Simon. It's not definitive of course, but in the absence of anything else… I think we'll still send those samples to Guy's though, just in case.'
And he kicked himself – surreptitiously, but quite hard.
Then he phoned Bennett, who'd finished interviewing Medlar and was planning his strategy for when he knew how Goring had died.
'Frozen to death?'
'Yes. Obvious really. Should've occurred to me earlier.'
'The freezing-room at the Transfusion Centre?'
'Could be. Just as well you had it sealed off.'
'Could it have been an accident?'
'I've no way of knowing that,' Randall said. Then, 'If it was an accident, why was he dumped in the river?'
Bennett swallowed. 'I take it you still can't give me a time of death?'
'He's been frozen, man.' His irritation came through at last. 'It could have been any time since he was last seen.'
Bennett thoughtfully put the phone down, then picked it up again. 'Sergeant, could you come up here, please?'
Yes, Mulholland confirmed, the freezing-room had been sealed off, but he didn't know whether the forensic team were there yet.
'I think we'd better go and have a look for ourselves,' said Bennett. 'Not inside,' he said, seeing the look on Mulholland's face, 'just the general layout.'
Bennett was sure he'd found the 'murder weapon' as soon as he saw the notice about the faulty handle on the door of the minus thirty room – and when Verity Blane, whose department was next to it, admitted she'd found a bit of a mess there on Monday morning, he was convinced.
'How would you describe this mess?'
Verity shrugged. 'Bottles where they shouldn't have been – one was broken and had been pushed under the bottom shelf.'
'You didn't think it worth reporting?'
'I assumed it was some mucky slob who couldn't be bothered to clear up.'
'Where were you on Friday night?' Mulholland asked her.
She looked over at him. 'At home.'
'Any witnesses to that?'
'Yes, as a matter of fact – a friend stayed with me overnight.' She gave them Jessie's name, which Bennett noted with interest.
He then commandeered the library to use as an interview room and sent a car to collect Jessie.
While he was waiting, he got Medlar to show him the centre's card key security system. As they walked back, Medlar said, 'Are you absolutely certain that Adam… met his death here, inspector?'
'We're waiting on Forensic for proof, but I'm as certain as I can be, yes.'
'Surely, some sort of accident is still the most likely explanation?'
'An accident is always possible, of course, sir,' Bennett said, trying to keep his voice level. 'But it would leave a few things unexplained, wouldn't it?' How, for instance, would Dr Goring have got into the centre without anyone knowing? He hadn't got a card key, had he? Which suggested that he'd come in with someone who had…
'However, let's suppose for a moment that he did get in by himself, and for reasons only known to himself, went to the freezing-room.'
Having seen the warning notice on the door, would he really have then gone in and pulled it shut behind him? With respect, Bennett didn't think so.
'And if it was an accident, sir, why was the body later removed and put in the river?'
Medlar had no answer for that.
Bennett studied Jessie very carefully as she was brought in. She seemed shocked when he told her about Goring's death, but something left him unconvinced that it was news to her.
'Could you tell me where you were on Friday night, Miss Pengellis?'
'Yes, I was at a friend's house…' She told him about the scene with Craig, meeting Verity and staying with her that night. They dispatched a man to Craig's parents' farm, where a truculent Craig confirmed her story. He'd given in his notice on Monday and hadn't bothered turning up for work since.
'It doesn't necessarily let her off, sir,' Sergeant Mulholland said a couple of hours later.
'No?' Bennett demanded. 'Perhaps you'd like to tell me how it doesn't.'
'Well, for a start, sir, just because no one saw Goring after seven on Friday doesn't mean he wasn't still alive. He could have been killed on the Saturday.'
****ing stroll on, Bennett thought – he was an old-fashioned man who avoided F-word, even in his thoughts. 'Sergeant, let's look at what we know so far: Goring phoned his wife at around seven and told her he had a possible source of evidence against Pengellis – let's call them X – and was going out. That must be what brought him to the centre. Nobody saw or heard him after that and his bed wasn't slept in that night. That's good enough for me.'
They'd questioned the hotel staff, and also Audrey Goring, who'd been driven down by her son. She'd told them about her husband's last phone call.
Mulholland pressed his lips together. 'All right, sir. But assuming it was Friday, how do we know Blane's telling the truth about Pengellis staying with her that night?'
How indeed? They had Verity in again.
'She was with me from about five until about ten the next morning,' Verity insisted.
'And she was with you all that time?'
'Yes.'
'Are you sure about that? You wouldn't have known if she'd got up and gone out during the night.'
'I think I would, inspector, since we were in the same bed.'
Mulholland said coolly, refusing to be put off, 'There is another possibil
ity, Miss Blane – '
'It's Ms.'
'Another possibility, Ms Blane: that Miss Pengellis did leave earlier and that you are… protecting her.'
Verity said with equal coolness, 'Are you calling me a liar, sergeant?'
Mulholland didn't reply, just looked at her.
'Well, are you?' she demanded.
'As I said, I'm putting another possibility to you.'
'Well, it's a pretty stupid one.' And more to the point, unprovable, her eyes seemed to add.
They questioned Jessie again.
'No. I didn't like him, inspector,' she agreed. 'Nobody here did.'
'But you were the only person he was trying to sack, weren't you? You had more reason to hate him than anyone else here – especially since he'd said he was going to sue you afterwards.'
She said tiredly, 'Even supposing I'd wanted to kill him, what could have possibly persuaded Dr Goring to come to the centre – to the freezing-room – with, of all people, me?'
It was a good question and Bennett put it to Medlar.
'Nothing would have persuaded him, inspector. He loathed her.'
Bennett looked at Medlar, decided that perhaps it was time to expose him to a little heat.
'What about your own movements on Friday, doctor? You told us earlier you were here until about eight – are there any witnesses to that?'
Medlar hesitated, looked away for a moment, then back to Bennett. 'Inspector, can I speak to you in strict confidence?'
'We're often asked that question, sir, and we always do our best. But we can't make promises.'
'It only comes out if absolutely necessary – isn't that the phrase?'
'That's right, sir.'
Medlar swallowed. 'Well, as a matter of fact, there is a witness… He told him about Sarah's illness and his relationship with Maria. 'I really don't want it to get back to my wife, inspector. It would hurt her terribly.'
You should have thought of that earlier, shouldn't you? thought Bennett unsympathetically. 'Until what time were you here with Miss N'Kanu, doctor?'
'As I told you earlier, it was about eight. I got home at half-past.'
'So you were in your office with Miss N'Kanu from between five and five thirty until about eight, sir?'
'Yes.'
Maria was summoned. She was extremely self-conscious and stumbled over her words, but confirmed Medlar's story.
'But who's to say they haven't cooked it up between them?' Bennett demanded of Mulholland when they were alone.
'She was pretty embarrassed, sir. They both were.'
'Yes, but embarrassed about what?'
Over the next few days, they systematically questioned all the staff. Nearly all of them could be eliminated and they concentrated on Dominic, Paul, Adrian and Ashley.
Dominic had been the first to realise the dangerous state of the door handle of the freezing-room.
'After I'd been told about it, I went and had a look, then stuck the notice on the door and put in an urgent request for it to be repaired. As you can see,' he added, 'the hospital engineers don't regard us as a high priority any more.'
His own movements on Friday night? He'd left home at a little after seven to go for a drink with Ashley Miles.
'So you were with him from about seven till eleven?'
'No, I was with him from about eight.'
'So what were you doing between seven and eight?'
He explained about his father-in-law. 'I had to get out of the house and decided to go to the library.'
Would anyone there be able to confirm that?
Dominic shrugged. 'They might remember me. I took out some books, so they'll have that on computer.'
'So after that, you drove to the – er – Red Lion and met Mr Miles at eight? What did you talk about until eleven?'
'Mostly what the hell we're going to do about getting new jobs.'
'Had a bit to drink, did you?'
'Four pints of shandy in three hours, inspector. I don't believe in drink-driving.'
'Four shandies is still two pints of beer.'
'Over three hours, inspector.'
'All right, all right. Did you go straight home afterwards?'
'I did. My wife was still up. You can check all this if you like.'
'I shall, sir.' Dominic had succeeded in getting up Bennett's nose.
Paul came in looking uncomfortable and, like Medlar before him, asked for diplomatic immunity. Also like Medlar, he was told they'd do their best. He hesitated as his eyes went from Bennett to Mulholland and back.
'I was with a prostitute,' he said at last.
'Her name, sir? I assume it is a her?'
'Sherree. I don't know her second name.'
Mulholland said, 'Barum Road, would that be, sir?'
Paul blinked. 'How did you know?'
'We know most of what goes on around here, sir. What time exactly were you with her?'
'Roughly between seven thirty and eight thirty.'
'And she'll be able to confirm that, will she?'
'I should hope so,' Paul muttered. 'She charges me enough.'
Adrian lived with his elderly parents and had spent Friday evening with them, although he had come briefly back to the centre to collect a book at a little before seven.
'Did you see anyone while you were here at the centre, sir?'
'Only Arthur Selwick, the orderly.'
'No one else?'
'No.'
Ashley confirmed that he'd met Dominic at about eight and that they'd stayed in the pub until about eleven.
'What time did you leave home, sir?' asked Mulholland.
'About seven thirty.'
'And it took you until eight to get to the Red Lion?'
'No. I stopped for petrol on the way.'
'Whereabouts would that have been, sir?'
'At the supermarket off Tavvy Road.'
'From your house to the Red Lion shouldn't take more than ten minutes. Add another five for the petrol and that still leaves fifteen minutes unaccounted for.'
'I knew I had the time to spare,' Ashley told them, 'so I checked my oil and water and tyres while I was about it.'
There was no way of either proving or disproving this, and no immediate reason to disbelieve him.
They checked all the statements relating to the Friday insofar as they could and they all matched. Sherree confirmed that Paul had been with her at the time he'd said. Dominic's wife confirmed his departure from and arrival home, as Ashley's did his. The library confirmed that Dominic had been in and even produced a computer print-out of the books he'd chosen. Adrian's parents confirmed his story.
They questioned the orderly, Arthur Selwick, who swore that he'd seen nobody that night except Adrian, but they also discovered that he was slightly deaf…
They then looked at who'd been into the centre during the rest of the weekend. Jessie had come in on Saturday afternoon and spent a couple of hours clearing her desk. Maria had been called in at three forty-five on Sunday for an urgent cross match and had left at a little after seven.
Bennett was a great believer in Motive, and thus Jessie was still his prime suspect. He had her brought down to the station where he gave her 'the works'. She broke down and cried at one stage, but they couldn't shake her story. It was the same with Verity, except that she fought back with more venom.
'This is sexual harassment, inspector, and I am going to sue you for it.'
'I think you might find that difficult, Ms Blane. The reason this interview is being recorded, and that WPC Collins is here, is to ensure that harassment doesn't occur.'
'You're all the same,' sneered Verity. 'I shouldn't expect justice from any of you lot.'
Harassment or no, she couldn't be shaken in her story.
By Thursday, Bennett knew there was going to be no quick answer, so he decided to go to his superintendent before his superintendent could come to him.
'With at least six suspects and virtually no help from Forensic, sir, I wonder i
f HOLMES might help us here.'
Superintendent Lewis regarded him with something akin to pity. 'I'm glad you've had the honesty to come to me, Vic.' He paused. 'I don't know about HOLMES, but as it happens, I have been approached by the Blood Division. They're very embarrassed about the corruption aspects of this case and want it sorted as quickly as possible. It seems they have an investigator there who's had experience in this kind of thing – '
Oh no… Bennett had a horrible premonition.
' – and they want to send him down. His name's – '
'Jones,' supplied Bennett. The bastard.
'You remember him, then?'
'I'm not likely to forget, I didn't find him the easiest of men to get along with, sir–'
'He sorted it out though, didn't he?'
'Not before there were three more corpses lying around the place, sir.'
Not to mention a few cases of hurt pride, thought Lewis. 'Well, I've already told them yes, Vic, so you'll have to try and make your peace with him.'
Chapter Ten
It was just as Sheila had said, she thought as they were shown into the room, they were a double act: one of them bald, moustachioed and urbane in a dark suit; the other in a leather jacket, younger, harder and somehow – there was no other word for it – meaner.
'Thank you for coming so quickly,' she said, walking round from her desk to greet them. 'Would you like some coffee?'
'Please,' said Marcus for both of them.
Lady Margaret, Chairman of the Blood Division, nodded to the receptionist, who silently withdrew.
'Please sit down.' She indicated some leather armchairs a little way from her desk, waited until they'd sat before seating herself opposite them.
'As I told you over the phone, Mr Evans, the matter I wish to discuss with you – with both of you – is delicate.'
'As are many of the matters we deal with,' Marcus said. 'As I believe I mentioned to you.'
She nodded. 'Indeed.' She paused, continued: 'Were you aware of the death of my colleague, Dr Adam Goring, at Tamar last weekend?'
'I read about it in the paper,' Tom said. With a certain morbid fascination, he didn't add. 'I thought the police had arrested someone.'
'The someone in question was helping them with their enquiries. She's now been released.'
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