‘Ok, sir. The emergency services will be with you in a few minutes. They’re on their way now,’ she repeated. ‘Stay calm and look out for them please.’
He staggered up to street level and slumped on to the garden wall, to await their arrival. Everything seemed surreal to him, as though it was happening in a dream. With a sinking heart, he rang Fiona. As soon as she answered, he spoke quickly, attempting to make his voice sound reasonably normal.
‘Fi. Listen, something dreadful’s happened. Carol’s been attacked. She’s in a bad way. I’m waiting for the ambulance now.’ He became aware of the sound of wailing sirens in the distance.
‘Attacked? Oh my God. How bad is she?’ Fiona sounded frantic.
‘They’re here now, darling. I have to go. I’ll ring you back as soon as I can.’ He ended the call before she could ask for any further details, then jumped up to flag down the ambulance. The noise of the sirens was now all-pervading and he thought how incongruous the sound was on such a gloriously sunny day. There were two ambulances, followed by a police car. More seemed to be on the way, judging by the sound of sirens in the distance.
‘She’s down here,’ Simon told them, indicating the steps. He quickly led two police officers and four paramedics down the steps, barely registering the unintelligible noises and bursts of static from their radios. They reached the terrace and he pointed to the doors to the apartment.
‘She’s in there. In the bedroom. On the right.’ He couldn’t face going back inside and sat down heavily on one of the chairs around the table. A sandy-haired man of around thirty-five came over to him and sat down in the chair opposite Simon.
‘Can you tell me who the victim is, sir? And exactly what happened?’ he asked, brushing his hair off his forehead before taking out a notebook. ‘I’m DI Phillips, James Phillips.’
Simon, looking down at his shaking, bloodstained hands, made a visible effort to pull himself together. Taking a deep breath, he told the DI about coming to check on Carol when she failed to turn up for lunch. He explained that Carol was Fiona’s step-mother and they’d been expecting her at around one o’clock. They’d become concerned as time went on and Carol didn’t turn up and didn’t answer their calls.
Just then, there was a commotion as the ambulance men backed out of the doors with Carol on a stretcher.
‘She’s still alive. We’re taking her to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Bridgetown,’ one of them called as they hurried by with their patient, manoeuvring the stretcher so they could keep it level while they climbed the steps, shouting instructions to each other.
‘Thank God,’ said Simon. Then he dropped his head into his hands and began to sob. The officer waited patiently for the storm of emotion to pass, before asking Simon if he was able to continue with his account.
Simon nodded, then quietly related the events leading up to his discovery of Carol.
‘I couldn’t take in what I was seeing when I looked into the bedroom. She was lying on the bed...’
‘How far into the room did you go?’ the DI asked. ‘Did you touch the victim?’
‘Yes. I... I thought she was dead at first. I felt for a pulse... There was a faint one... and then I put her in the recovery position.’ Simon spread out his bloodied hands to show the officer. ‘The corner of a pillow was stuffed into her mouth... I removed that. I’ve never seen so much blood.’
Another man came over to them. Bajan. Very tall. Simon estimated about six feet four or five. He carried an air of authority about him, which hinted at strength and competence.
‘This is Simon Barker, Sir.’ said the DI, rising to his feet. ‘He found the victim. His wife is the victim’s step-daughter.’
‘DCI Brown.’ the man said, in a deep, rumbling voice. ‘I won’t shake your hand, if you don’t mind,’ he gestured to Simon’s bloodstained hands. Must have been pretty bad, finding her like that?’
Simon looked down at his still trembling hands. ‘Terrible. How the fuck could anyone do that to another human being?’ his shock was turning to anger.
‘That’s what we intend to find out, sir. I’ll leave you to finish giving your statement – and then you’ll need to get cleaned up.’
The terrace became a hive of activity as the crime scene was cordoned off with blue tape, awaiting the arrival of the forensics team.
‘I think we’re done for now, but we’ll need to speak to you again. And your wife, sir.’ the DI told Simon. ‘We’ll need her statement too.’
Simon nodded, anxious to get moving. ‘We’ll be at the hospital. I need to call her now and tell her to go straight there.’
CHAPTER TEN
Fiona came hurrying into the bustling Accident & Emergency department a few minutes after Simon arrived. She ran to him and clutched his arms, looking up at him, her eyes searching his for any sign of reassurance.
‘How is she?’
Simon noticed all the tan seemed to have faded from her face, which now looked white and drawn. He guided her to a chair, then sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders.
‘I don’t know exactly, darling... She’s pretty bad...’ his voice tailed off.
‘Simon. You’re scaring me... How bad is it?’ People were staring and she realised she had raised her voice.
He looked at her, a bleak expression on his face. ‘She’s in a bad way, darling. But at least she’s still alive. I thought she was dead... when I found her on the bed... there was blood everywhere. There’s a huge wound on the side of her head – she must have been hit with something.’
‘Oh God. But why?.. I was just with her... Why would anyone do that? Oh dear God, she’s not going die, is she?’
He took her hand. ‘I don’t know, darling,’ he said gently. ‘I don’t know anything yet. She’s with the doctors now. They’ve said they’ll come and see us... when they know more...’
Just then, a nurse approached, smiling sympathetically, and asked them to go with her. Ushering them into a small room, just down the corridor, she indicated two easy chairs.
‘You’ll be more comfortable waiting in here. It’s a bit more private. I’ll get you both a cup of coffee and as soon as we know more, someone will come to see you.’ She rustled out of the room, and Simon looked around. It was basically a white, clinical room, but an effort had been made to make it more welcoming. On the walls, there were a couple of prints of tropical flowers, and bright yellow cushions adorned the two Green leather chairs and small settee, matching the curtains, which had been tied back from the small window. A room to receive bad news in, he thought.
‘We’ll have to ring Julia...’
‘Let’s wait ‘til we know just how bad it is,’ Simon gently interrupted, taking one of the chairs, ‘no point in giving her half a story. We’ll ring once we’ve seen the doctor.’
‘You’re right... Oh, Simon, I just can’t believe this is happening.’ Fiona sank into the other chair and put her head in her hands.
‘I had to wash her blood off my hands,’ said Simon quietly, staring at his hands. He went on to describe in more detail what he’d seen when he walked into the bedroom. ‘I’ve never seen so much blood, Fi. You wouldn’t think you could lose that much and still be alive.’
Fiona stared at him. ‘But, why? Why would anyone do that to Carol? It’s horrific. Oh, God, she must have been so scared.’ She began to weep and Simon got up, knelt in front of her, and put his arms around her.
During the next long hour, they talked through what had happened, going round in circles trying to make sense of it.
‘We’ll have to let Pauline know,’ Fiona said, ‘... and her brother in Australia. Pauline might have his number.’
Eventually, the doctor arrived; they jumped up as he came through the door. As he searched his face for any clue about how bad things were, Simon thought he looked ridiculously young, like a young boy wearing a white coat, stethoscope round his neck, playing pretend doctors and nurses.
The doct
or held out his hand. ‘I’m Dr. Marshall.’ he said, in a surprisingly mature voice. ‘Please, sit down.’ They resumed their seats and the doctor took the settee.
‘I’m afraid the patient – Mrs Barrington - is very seriously injured. Her skull is fractured in two places, and we think there may be some bleeding in the brain. She hasn’t regained consciousness as yet, but in any event, we’re putting her in an induced coma, to give her brain time to recover. We’re still doing tests, but if a bleed is confirmed, the situation will be critical. We need to monitor her closely over the coming hours. Does she have any other relatives who should be informed?’
‘She has a daughter, in England. We’ll call her.’ Fiona began to cry quietly.
‘She should get here as soon as possible,’ the doctor said. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll let you know as soon as I have any further information.’
After he left, Fiona, tears still streaming down her face, took her phone from her handbag and held it out to Simon. ‘Will you call her? I... just can’t.’
Taking the phone from her, Simon squeezed her shoulder before selecting Julia’s number.
‘Julia, It’s Simon. Can you hear me?’ he could hear a lot of noise in the background. Rock music, and a cacophony of voices. There was clearly a party in progress.
‘Simon? My favourite brother in law. It’s Simon, everyone,’ she shouted to the room in general. Simon heard shrieking and whooping.
‘Julia, I need to speak to you. Turn the music off... Julia, TURN THE MUSIC OFF.’ He could hear her yelling to her boyfriend to turn the sound off, and shouting to her friends to be quiet.
‘Julia, sweetheart, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.’ he said. ‘It’s about your mum. She’s been hurt.’
‘Mum...? What...’
Simon interrupted and went on to tell her what had happened, adding, ‘We’re at the QE hospital in Bridgetown.’
Julia shouted ‘No’ over and over, then began to sob. Simon could hear her becoming hysterical. Then her boyfriend’s voice came on the phone.
‘Simon? What’s happened? What’s wrong?’
Simon brought him up to speed and told him, ‘Oliver, you need to get her on a flight over here straight away. We’ll be staying here at the hospital until she gets here.’
Julia, recovered enough to take the phone back from Oliver, came back on the line. ‘Mum is going to be alright, isn’t she?’ she asked in a tremulous voice.
‘She’s very seriously ill, sweetheart. The doctors are assessing the extent of the damage, to see if there’s any bleeding in the brain. We’re just hoping and praying that’s not the case.’
‘Bleeding in the brain?’ Julia repeated in a strangled voice.
‘Let’s just wait and see, angel. We have to hope for the best.’
‘I see.’ she said in a small voice.
Simon passed the phone to Fiona, after she indicated she wanted to speak to Julia.
‘It’s Fiona, Julia, I’m so sorry, darling. Listen... no, I know it’s not fair after what your mum’s already been through this year. Listen, darling, just get here as soon as you can. The next flights won’t be til the morning. Book the early one and text to let us know you’re on it. Simon will meet you at the airport. Your mum is in very good hands - try to stay strong, for her, sweetheart. We’ll be here with her ‘til you get here.’
A few minutes later, the door opened and Simon looked up to see DI Phillips enter, brushing his sandy hair out of his eyes. He looked tired and a bit dishevelled.
‘Hello again, Mr. Barker. Mrs. Barker?’ he enquired, turning to Fiona.
‘Yes?’ Fiona responded, looking at the proffered warrant card.
‘This is the policeman I spoke to this afternoon, Fiona,’ Simon explained.
‘DI James Phillips,’ he said, extending his hand to Fiona. ‘I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind?’
‘We’ve just been on the phone to Carol’s daughter.’ interjected Simon. ‘She’s getting the early flight over here tomorrow.’
James nodded, brushing his hair off his face. ‘That’s good.’ He parked himself on the settee and took out his notebook. ‘In the course of our enquiries we need to rule out anyone on the island who is known to Carol Barrington. We’re examining her mobile phone and computer to find her contacts, but wondered if either of you is aware of anyone she knows or has contact with when she’s here?’
‘Well, she and my dad knew quite a few people. Just let me think...’ began Fiona.
‘If you can give us some time, we’ll see who we can come up with,’ suggested Simon.
‘Of course. If you could do it as soon as possible? Give the list to DC Lynn Sands, if you don’t mind. She’s stationed outside the intensive care department. Now, Mrs. Barker, can you go through Carol’s movements for me, since she arrived? As far as you know them.’
‘Well...’ began Fiona, ‘she arrived on Thursday. I picked her up from the airport at about five thirty and drove her to the villa... We had a drink, on the terrace, talked for a while, and then I left.’
‘What time did you leave?’
‘It was about eight o’clock. Carol was tired. I left her to unpack. She said she was going to have an early night. We agreed to meet the following night - last night.’ She paused to pull herself together, before continuing. ‘I went there at six. We had a meal and a few glasses of champagne. There was a lot to catch up on; it was a great night. I’d pre-booked a taxi for eleven thirty. Carol waved me off.’
‘She walked up to street level with you? Did you notice if she locked the door to the apartment before going up the stairs with you?’
‘I don’t remember... but I don’t think so...’ Fiona’s hand flew to her mouth, as the implication of the question sank in. ‘Do you think someone got in then?’
‘It’s a possibility. Now, are you aware of Carol speaking to anyone in the short time she was here? Did she mention who she’d seen that day?’
‘Just Josie, her housekeeper... oh, and the couple who were renting the apartment above Carol’s. She told me she saw them going for an early morning swim and they chatted. She went shopping that morning; I don’t know if she bumped into anyone she knew then.’
‘Did you notice anyone around when you were with Carol that evening? In a nearby villa, or on the beach for example?’
‘Let me think... we ate on the terrace... I noticed a young couple on the top balcony of the villa next door. Like us, they’d been watching the sunset. I don’t recall seeing anyone else... Oh, yes, there was the lobster delivery man. He dropped the lobster off at around six thirty. From Lobster Alive.’
DI Phillips made a note before looking at each of them in turn. ‘And can either of you think of anyone who could have a grudge against Carol? Or anyone who dislikes her? Has she ever expressed any concerns about anyone?’
‘No, no. Not at all,’ said Fiona. ‘I can’t think of anyone. She’s a lovely person...’
‘Your brother isn’t her greatest fan, darling,’ Simon observed.
‘You’re not suggesting my brother...’ Fiona sounded incredulous.
‘No, of course not. I’m just trying to think of anyone who dislikes her.’
‘What’s this?’ the DI asked, looking from one to the other.
‘My brother resents Carol because he thinks she broke up my parents’ marriage. She didn’t, but he’s always blamed her. But, for God’s sake, he doesn’t hate her – he’s not violent. He could never hurt anyone.’ She glared at Simon.
‘Is your brother on the island?’
‘Yes, he’s staying with us, but...’
‘I’ll take his details and we’ll have a word with him. Just to rule him out of our enquiries,’ the DI said, taking out his notebook. ‘Thank you, Mrs. Barker, you’ve been very helpful. If you could leave your list with DC Sands? As soon as you can, please. I’d be grateful. By the way, he said, turning to Simon, ‘Where were you last night?’
‘What? I was in my restaurant all night, until about twelve. Then we all had a drink after it closed. We usually do that after a busy night.’
‘Who do you mean by ‘we all’?’ asked the DI. ‘Were you there, Mrs Barker?’
‘Yes, I helped to clear up when I got back from Carol’s. Then we both had a couple of drinks with the staff. We must have finished at about one.’
‘Well, thank you both. You’ve been very helpful,’ the DI said, rising and tucking his notebook into his pocket.
‘No problem,’ said Simon. ‘We’ll be here all night, if you need us again.’
After the DC left, Fiona rounded on Simon with fury. ‘Why the hell did you have to bring my brother into it?’
‘Fi, it just slipped out. I didn’t mean anything by it. Of course I don’t think for one second that Jack could have done it.’
‘They’re going to interview him now. How could you?’ she was almost crying with fury and actually stamped her foot.
‘Oh, come on, darling. They’ll be interviewing everyone. He’s got nothing to hide, so there’s nothing to worry about. Look, it’s getting late. It’s been a long day. Let’s see what facilities are available, if any. We should both try to get some sleep.’ He tried to put his arm around Fiona’s shoulders, but she angrily shrugged him off.
‘Fuck off.’ she spat, and stomped ahead of him out of the room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Not far from the hospital, at the Barbados Police Headquarters in Bridgetown, the SIO, DCI Louis Brown called a briefing meeting for eleven o’clock that night. He’d hastily put together a strong team; several officers had been contacted at home and drafted in, including some uniforms. All leave had been cancelled until further notice. The 20-strong team was assembled in the Major Incident Room, at the back of the station building.
Sitting on the corner of a desk, one ankle resting on the other knee, the DCI had already begun to address the assembled team, when DI James Phillips came hurrying through the door.
‘So glad you could join us, James.’ he said, stroking his chin. ‘Not putting you out, are we?’ Everyone laughed and James shrugged as all eyes turned towards him.
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