“Time of death eleven forty am,” announces the Doctor.
CHAPTER 16
Rachel marches into the apartment, throws her bag and coat on the floor and heads straight into the kitchen. Danny is sat on the couch watching the news but she barely registers his presence.
“Rach?” he says, following her into the kitchen. “Have you heard? Jarvis is dead. He had another heart attack apparently.”
She nods, takes a bottle of white wine out of the fridge, fills her glass and knocks it back in one go. “I know.” She wipes the droplets of wine from her lips with the back of her hand. “I was there.”
She looks at him meaningfully and his face falls.
“Rachel, what did you do?”
She downs another glass of wine and takes a deep, shaky breath.
“I killed him.”
The tears start to fall and he takes her in his arms. She clings to him sobbing as he struggles to get his head round what she’s just told him.
When she’s calmed down sufficiently to talk he sits her at the kitchen table and hands her another glass of wine.
“What happened?”
“I...I was his named nurse and I went in to check on him. I hoped he'd be asleep but he wasn't. He started taunting m. He threatened us Danny, all of us, he said we had no idea how powerful The Coalition really is and that they would bring us down.”
“He didn't give you any names, did he?”
She shakes her head negatively and Danny looks disappointed.
“He got so worked up he went into cardiac arrest.” She swallows hard as the image of his stricken face enters her mind. “So I switched off the alarm on the monitor and waited for him to die. By the time I called the crash team it was too late for them to revive him.”
Danny sighs and leans back in his chair. “Is that all?”
“What do you mean?”
“From the way you were going on I thought you'd actually murdered him. All you did was let nature take its course.”
She shoots to her feet. “I could have saved his life but I didn't. I'm a nurse. Have you any idea what that means?”
He realises his error and tries to back track. “All I'm saying is that you didn't inject him with an air bubble or stick something in his drip. He had a heart attack. It happens and even if you had helped him who says he would have lived?”
“You don't get it, do you?” she yells.
She stalks into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. He follows and tries the door but she's locked it.
“Rach,” he calls.
“Piss off Danny,” she shouts through the door.
“Come on Rach, open the door.”
Silence.
“I'm sorry Babe. Please open the door.”
He hears the lock click and he pushes it open to find her sat on the bed, face streaked with tears and eyes large and vulnerable. He feels a rush of love for her, his protective side coming to the fore. He sits beside her and takes her hands in his.
“Don't beat yourself up about it Rach. He probably would have died anyway.”
“You don't know that.”
He tilts her face up to his. “You did the right thing. You protected the family, protected us. With everything going on we have to do all we can just to survive. It's either them or us Babe. You chose us.”
“You don't understand. I’ve dedicated my life to helping others, to saving lives and I just let him die. How can I carry on working at the hospital after this? I'm not fit for the job.”
He pulls her to him and holds her close. She nuzzles into his chest, his warmth reassuring. For once he doesn't know what to say so he lets her cry it out on his shoulder. When she goes quiet he wipes the tears from her eyes. Even with her face puffy and red she still looks gorgeous. He kisses her gently.
“Better?”
She nods. “A little.”
“Don't let it get to you. You did the right thing.”
She smiles slightly. “Okay.”
He strokes her cheek and kisses her and she responds passionately. She presses him down onto the bed and slides his t-shirt off. He lies back, enjoying the feel of her lips on his chest then she unzips his jeans. He understands why she needs to do this now. Death has a funny way of turning people to sex, it reminds you that you’re still alive.
In The Wherry Tavern Frank is quite drunk, a rare occurence but he’s celebrating. He wraps a huge arm around Rachel's shoulders when she and Danny enter and smiles down at her amiably.
“Alright Rach? Can I get you a drink love?”
“White wine please.”
He grins at Danny. “Hear that Danny? White wine, what a lady.”
“He wouldn't say that if he knew what you did to me in the shower this morning,” whispers Danny playfully as Frank gets the drinks in. She nudges him in the ribs, struggling to hide her smile.
Frank hands them their drinks, almost spilling them in the process.
“You alright Dad?” says Danny.
“We're celebrating, aren't we Terry?” slurs Frank, grabbing Terry who is talking to Ryan. “That slag Jarvis is dead.”
Danny and Rachel glance at each other, which doesn‘t go unnoticed by Ryan.
“We're finally free,” cries Frank jubilantly and he raises his glass. “A toast to Superintendent Jarvis. May he rot in hell.”
The entire pub joins him in the toast while Rachel knocks back her wine in one go and hastily orders another.
Beth appears out of the crowd and pulls Rachel to one side.
“Listen, I thought I'd better warn you. Miss Richards in Human Resources is going to pull you in at work tomorrow for a chat about Jarvis's death. They're going to spring it on you. Luckily a mate of mine works under her.”
Rachel’s heart sink. “Why? He had a heart attack, end of.”
“I know but some DCI from the station is pushing for it. It's a high profile death and he wants to be sure.”
Rachel's mind is racing. There must be something she'd missed for the police to look into it. She looks around for Danny who has drifted away to chat with Alex. He's the only one who knows what she did.
Beth notices the worry in her eyes. “There isn't anything to worry about, is there Rach?”
“No, course not,” replies Rachel, forcing a smile.
Rachel stops herself from going straight to Danny to avoid arousing Beth's suspicions. She manages to get him alone in the office an hour later.
“Beth's just told me they want to talk to me at the hospital tomorrow about Jarvis's death.”
The anxiety in his eyes does nothing to console her. “Who exactly wants to talk to you?”
“Beth mentioned some DCI.”
“Not Benton?”
“I don't know.”
“He's a real bastard, been after us for years. For all we know he was in on The Coalition with Jarvis.”
“What do I do?”
“You'll have to go and see what they've got to say.”
Rachel takes a deep breath and looks at the floor.
“You didn't leave any trace, did you?”
“No.”
“You're sure?”
“No,” she replies, chewing her lip.
He holds her to him and strokes her hair. “It'll be alright, he's got nothing on you.”
“Should we tell your dad?”
“I think we should just keep it between us for now. The fewer people that know the better.”
The following morning Rachel wakes with her stomach churning, Danny snoring beside her. She lies in bed with her eyes closed, willing the sickness to dissipate but it doesn't. In fact it grows steadily worse. She flies out of bed and throws up violently into the toilet. As she crouches on the floor taking in deep gulps of air the churning in her stomach starts to ease.
“You okay?” says Danny blearily, appearing in the bathroom rubbing his eyes.
“Just nerves,” she replies with a weak smile.
He helps her to her feet. “Come on,
I'll make you a brew.”
Two hours later Rachel finds herself standing outside Miss Richard's office door. She takes a deep breath and forces herself to relax before knocking.
“Come in,” calls a woman's voice solemnly.
Rachel enters to see Miss Richards, a dour thin woman who looks at her sternly over her glasses. To her left is a plump woman with rosy cheeks and wild brown curly hair. To her right is a slender man with dark hair and eyes. DCI Benton is younger than she’d expected, in his late thirties and rather handsome, his good looks marred by the tension radiating off him. Rachel thinks he could do with a massage and a long holiday.
“Hello Nurse Maguire. Please sit down,” says Miss Richards pleasantly.
Rachel smiles and sits on the hard wooden chair they have put out for her. Immediately she feels uncomfortable.
“Rachel, this is DCI Benton. He wishes to discuss Superintendent Jarvis's death with you, as you were the only witness.”
“Actually when he died there was a senior registrar and five other nurses present,” replies Rachel, careful to keep her voice light and pleasant.
“I want to discuss the few minutes you were alone with Jarvis before the crash team arrived,” says Benton.
“Okay,” she replies with a sweet smile.
“Why did you go into his room?”
“I was his named nurse. I’d just come on duty and I was checking on his progress.”
“Is that right?” Benton asks Miss Richards.
“Yes.”
Benton scowls in irritation. “Tell me what happened after you walked into Superintendent Jarvis's room.”
Rachel takes her time and makes a show of thinking about it, not wanting them to know she has gone over and over her answer in her mind. “He was awake when I went in. I checked his chart, took his blood pressure and pulse. The usual routine.”
She looks at Miss Richards, who nods encouragingly.
“Did he talk to you at all?”
“No.”
“Did he complain of feeling unwell?”
“No. It all happened very suddenly. One minute he was fine the next he was gasping and clutching at his chest. It often happens like that, without any warning.”
Benton looks at Miss Richards, who again nods in agreement with Rachel. Benton is becoming dismayed but ploughs on regardless.
“The reason I'm here today Rachel is that we took fingerprints off the heart monitor Jarvis was linked up to. The funny thing is that there are prints all over it, all except for the alarm button.”
Rachel feels her heart start to pound but outwardly she betrays no sign of panic.
“So?”
“So that means it’s been wiped clean. Now why would someone clean just one button and leave the rest?”
She looks puzzled, as though she is struggling to understand him. “I don't know. Does it matter?”
He sighs in irritation. She's a good actress this one. “To me it indicates that someone didn't want their prints on that button.”
“Why not?”
“Maybe someone switched off the alarm when Jarvis went into cardiac arrest? Maybe they didn't want the crash team to reach him until it was too late?”
“I don't understand,” she says, bewildered.
Miss Richards looks at Benton as though he’s mad.
Benton gets to his feet and towers over Rachel, glaring down at her with his cold eyes. “I'm saying that you switched off that alarm, that you prevented him getting the help he needed and that as a consequence of your actions he died.”
Rachel decides to play the helpless female card. Her eyes fill with tears, a feat that isn't difficult for her at this point, and she puts on her best wounded expression.
“How dare you. I'm a nurse, a bloody good one and I look after my patients as best I can. Superintendent Jarvis was only the second patient I have ever lost and it upset me deeply. Why are you accusing me of these horrible things? I've never done anything wrong in my life.”
He bends over her to hiss in her ear. “Because you're married to that scumbag Maguire. It's well known Jarvis was putting pressure on your family. Did you decide to take the pressure off?”
“I didn't. Loads of people were in and out of his room before and after he died. Anyone could have touched that button.”
“But only one person actually touched it and that was you Rachel.”
“DCI Benton please,” interjects Miss Richards. “This is not a Police station. You have no right to interrogate Nurse Maguire in this fashion.”
He ignores her admonishment. “You did it, didn't you Rachel?”
She glares at him with anger in her eyes, the vulnerability gone but only Benton sees this.
“I know you did Rachel and I'll prove it.”
Miss Richards gets to her feet. “I must protest DCI Benton, your behaviour is outrageous. Nurse Maguire has cooperated fully. This meeting is at an end.”
Benton glares at Miss Richards as he straightens up. The scared, vulnerable look returns to Rachel's eyes and she allows more tears to fall.
“Alright Rachel. This is over. For now.”
With that Benton stalks out of the room and Miss Richards, all frostiness dissolved, cuddles Rachel to her. “You poor girl. The man must be mad.”
“I don't know why he's accusing me. I've never done anything wrong,” she sobs.
Miss Richards nods sympathetically. “I know dear. Take the rest of the day off. I'll make up an excuse for Sister.”
“Thank you,” sniffs Rachel, dabbing at her tears with a tissue.
Rachel leaves the office but Benton is waiting for her in the corridor.
“Nice performance in there. You've got those two old biddies convinced, haven't you?”
“That's because I haven't done anything wrong.”
“You let him die Rachel. You killed him and I will prove it.”
“How?” she replies challengingly.
He screws his face up in irritation and stomps off. Rachel smiles to herself.
“This is a great day,” Frank smiles at the assembled group. “The first meeting of our new alliance, the Maguires and the Laws.”
Ryan and Jez smile as Danny, Terry, Alex, Battler and Bruiser all turn to look at them. Whereas Ryan's smile is confident and amiable, Jez's is nervous and twitchy.
“And what better way to welcome them,” continues Frank “than with a brand new business venture. Terry?”
“A contact of mine has come up with an interesting proposition,” smiles Terry enigmatically, pleased with the attention. “Stately home robberies.”
They all frown but do not interrupt.
“You know Ashton House?” he continues.
“That big estate on the edge of the city?” says Alex.
“Yes that's the on. The family are going away to Dubai for a month, leaving all those valuable antiques and paintings just lying around for anyone to pick up.”
“Surely they have security?” says Alex.
“They do. Alarms, lasers, guard dogs and an ancient security guard who's been there since the house was built. Nothing we can't handle.”
“And what do we do with the stuff once we've got it? It'll be all over the news. No one will touch it,” says Danny.
Terry grins broadly and a little smugly. “I've got contacts abroad that will take the lot off our hands for a good price. I can ship it out in the removal containers, my contacts at Customs will ensure they're not searched. All in all this robbery will net us close to fifteen million.”
They all gape at him in astonishment and his grin broadens, revelling in the attention.
“I thought Ryan and Jez would like in. It seems a good way of cementing our alliance,” ends Terry.
The Laws nod eagerly, Jez's eyes popping out of his head at the thought of such a massive haul.
“May I ask who your contact is?” enquires Ryan politely.
Terry's face hardens. “No you can't. No offence Ryan but I always protect my sources.”
>
“Fair enough,” he replies loftily.
“So what do you think?” says Terry.
“It's fucking brilliant,” replies Frank proudly.
“What's the risk?” says Danny.
“Practically none. Security's a piece of piss to get round. My contacts are ready and waiting to take the stuff off our hands. It's all sorted. All we need to do is go in and get the goods.”
“But that place is huge, it'll take forever to search,” retorts Danny.
Terry's eyes shine with triumph. “Not when you already know where the most valuable items are. My contact has done a reccy and he is very thorough. I know exactly where to go. We can be in and out in under an hour.”
“How many do you need?” says Battler.
“The house is split into three floors. Three teams of two. So, who wants in?”
He smiles when they all raise their hands.
CHAPTER 17
Rachel's eyes widen as she stares at the pregnancy test stick in her hand, the little blue line indicating a positive result. Shakily she perches on the edge of the bath as she tries to take it all in. She's missed a period and has been sick a lot lately but she'd put it down to stress over Jarvis's death and the subsequent interrogation. She's no idea how Danny is going to take the news. They'd discussed having children and agreed they both wanted kids but not just yet, there are lots of things they want to do first. But she'd had some trouble with the pill she'd been on and had swapped to another, obviously less effective one.
She jumps when she hears the slam of the front door. After carefully placing the test in the medicine cabinet above the sink, she walks into the front room to find Danny pouring himself a beer and muttering angrily.
“What's the matter with you?” she says.
“Oh hi Babe, I didn't know you were home. It's that wanker Stan. You know he only went and let a dealer into one of the clubs. Turns out he was dealing dodgy E's. A customer collapsed in the club last night. He's only a teenager and now he's critically ill in hospital.”
She tries to concentrate on his words but can‘t, she just has to get it out. “I have some news,” she begins uncertainly.
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