When I'm Old and Grey: DI Ted Darling Book III

by L M Krier

  Rob O'Connell had had much better success and had arrived back at the station with Mandy Griffiths safely under arrest and cautioned on suspicion of fraud and theft. He put her into an interview room and left her to cool her heels while he went to report back to Ted and the team.

  Sal was the only other one in, waiting to help with questioning the suspect. Ted came out into the main office to hear what Rob had to say.

  'Well, she really is a piece of work,' Rob began. 'When we got to Snowdon Lodge and asked for her, the carer who let us in told us which rooms Griffiths was working in and left us to find our own way. We could hear her shouting from halfway up the corridor. Good job there were no visiting relatives about who could have heard her.

  'The old lady whose room it was had clearly had a little accident in the bed and Griffiths was calling her all kinds of names. I've never been happier to go in and arrest anyone.'

  Ted had been perching on the edge of a desk to listen. He stood up to go and said, 'I know I don't need to remind you, Rob, or Sal either, to keep personal feelings out of this interview. No matter how unpleasant a person she is, you stay professional at all times, please. I don't want anything which could give a smart defence lawyer a get out of jail free card. Has she asked for a solicitor?'

  'Doesn't have one of her own, boss, so I've said I'll arrange one for her.'

  'See that you do, and don't say anything to her until they get here.'

  Ted knew he was teaching his grandmother to suck eggs. Both Rob and Sal were experienced officers who played it by the book. It was just that they had come so far on this case with nothing to show for it that he didn't want to risk anything going wrong now.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Ted was surprised to get a phone call from Pocket Billiards first thing the next day. He forced himself to sound enthusiastic.

  'Good morning, Alastair. What can I do for you?'

  'It's more what I can do for you, Ted. I thought of something else which might just be helpful to you. Perhaps I could tell you about it over lunch?'

  Ted was not sure he could stomach the prospect of eating with him again.

  'I've got a pretty hectic day today, Alastair,' he said, trying to sound regretful. 'I won't have time to eat, but perhaps we could meet at The Grapes for a quick drink.' He heard the expectant pause and added reluctantly, 'And of course your lunch is on me.'

  They agreed a time and rang off. There was a light knock at the door and Mike put his head round. Ted told him to come in and sit down.

  'I spoke at length to Bella Morgan,' Mike began. 'I also dug as deeply as I could into her background. I sort of got the feeling that's what you wanted me to do, boss.'

  'Don't tell Jim Baker, whatever you do,' Ted told him. 'So, does she check out?'

  'Clean as a whistle. Watertight alibis for all of the deaths. In fact, she was with the Big Boss for a couple of them, with other people there as well, so those check out,' Mike reported. 'I expect Superintendent Baker will hear I've been asking around for those alibis, so prepare for a rocket.'

  Ted smiled ruefully. 'I did tell him we'd have to check her out as a witness. I'm glad we can clear her as a suspect now. Was she able to help in any way?'

  Mike shook his head. 'She didn't see much of the daily comings and goings at all. Just straight to the manager's office, head down over the books, then on to the next one. I must say she seems very nice.'

  'After the team meeting, you and I need to go back to the hospital, see if they've been true to their word and found anything out for us,' Ted said, as the two of them headed out to the main office. 'I've got a meeting with Pocket Billiards again later. He says he may have something for us, but I suspect he just wants another free lunch.'

  The rest of the team members were already in, Jezza yawning widely at her desk and not even bothering to disguise the fact.

  Mandy Griffiths had been kept in police custody overnight. They had plenty to hold her on for a few hours longer and were hoping she might be more talkative after a night in the cells, in her eagerness to be released. As the DS was going to the hospital with Ted, and Rob O'Connell was out on another case, he asked Virgil and Sal to carry on interviewing her. He knew he could trust them both and sometimes a change of face brought different results.

  The rain was coming down in stair-rods when they went outside, bouncing up off the surface of the car park. It effectively soaked Ted and Mike from below as well as above as they sprinted for Mike's car to head to the hospital. The weather seemed to be stuck in permanent rain mode at the moment.

  Ted was pleased Trev had insisted he got himself a trench coat for work on their last shopping trip. It certainly seemed to be keeping more of him dry than Mike's old waxed jacket was doing. His feet were sopping wet, though. He would have much preferred to be in his waterproof walking boots, or even his Docs.

  They had another soggy sprint at the hospital, longer this time, as the car park was heaving and they couldn't park near to the main building, not even by relying on a Police sign on the dashboard.

  They headed first to the administration manager's office. She greeted them with reserve, once again, then escorted them to the CEO's office, saying he had agreed to talk to them. Ted, who was used to being the smallest man in most circumstances, was surprised to find that the CEO was no taller.

  Even when the man stood up from behind his large and elegant antique desk, he looked like someone's schoolboy son who was playing a prank by pretending to be in charge. To compound the look, he had the kind of smooth complexion which looked as if he had not yet started shaving.

  Ted always claimed that dressing up in a suit made him look like Wee Jimmy Krankie. From the look of the CEO's suit, he solved the problem by having his clothes expensively made-to-measure.

  'Gentlemen,' he said, shaking hands with both Ted and Mike. When he spoke, Ted got the feeling he had had a lot of voice coaching to get the pitch sufficiently low to help him to appear old enough to be at the helm of a big hospital. 'I'm Nicholas Forbes, the CEO. Our administration manager, Mrs Riley, tells me you need our help in identifying a possible suspect. As I'm sure you are aware, we are bound by confidentiality towards our patients …'

  'Mr Forbes, please excuse me,' Ted cut in smoothly, 'but firstly, the person we are interested in was not a patient here. And secondly, we are investigating a series of killings of elderly people. I'm sure I don't have to remind you that one happened in your hospital, and there was a second attempt here recently.

  'I can, if necessary, go and get court orders to authorise me to search your records. But that would be tedious and take time. It's essential that we contact this person as soon as possible, so that we can at least eliminate her from our enquiries, if she's not involved.'

  The CEO looked at him thoughtfully, as if weighing up an adversary. Then he turned his attention to a file on his desk and looked through it.

  'This was a particularly tragic case, Inspector. All death is tragic, of course, but this one was unexpected. A man barely into his forties, taken suddenly ill with bacterial meningitis, the most serious kind,' the CEO said.

  'From the notes here, it seems that his wife initially thought it was nothing to worry about and tried various herbal concoctions, to no avail. By the time she called an ambulance, her husband was very gravely ill. He was taken first to the Acute Admissions Unit. We were waiting for an intensive care bed but unfortunately, he deteriorated very quickly and died before he could be transferred.'

  'And how did his wife react, sir?' Ted asked him.

  'Well, she was hardly in the mood to celebrate, Inspector,' the CEO said ironically. 'According to the notes here, she wanted to make a formal complaint about the lack of an available bed.'

  'But he definitely died on the unit, not on a trolley in a corridor?'

  The CEO looked at him searchingly, then looked back at the notes.

  'No, he was definitely in a cubicle on the unit, according to these notes. Not on a ward, just a side cubicle. I su
ppose that could perhaps have led to confusion?

  'We carried out a hospital post-mortem examination, at his wife's request, which confirmed our earlier findings. Her husband died from septicaemia as a complication of the bacterial meningitis. It can happen very quickly, as it did in this case. Sadly, the probability is that it was her delay to get him to hospital which was the causal factor, not the lack of a bed. It would seem that even had we been able to transfer him to the ICU, he would not have survived.

  'Had his wife called an ambulance sooner, instead of thinking her various herbal and homoeopathic potions were going to make any difference, he may possibly have stood a chance. I suspect that, in her heart of hearts, she knew that. I imagine it may well have been feelings of guilt as much as grief which made her react as she did.

  'Mrs Mortensen had a lot of trouble accepting the findings to begin with. She paid many visits to the hospital and caused quite a few problems. She would accost other relatives of patients who had died. It reached the point where we had to get security to escort her off the premises a few times.'

  'Mortensen?' Ted queried, with a meaningful glance at Mike.

  'Much as it goes against the grain, Inspector, I am prepared to disclose names on this occasion, because of the serious nature of your enquiries,' Forbes told him. 'The deceased was Robert Mortensen. His wife's name was Angela. I've written down the address we had for them at the time. I don't know if it is still current.'

  'Thank you, sir,' Ted said, pocketing the details and nodding at Mike to take over.

  'Mr Forbes, the other thing we had asked for was information about a Health Care Assistant who worked here for a short time, a certain Mandy Griffiths. Are you able to tell me anything about her, please?' the DS asked.

  Forbes closed the Mortensen file and reached for another, which he opened and looked through. He gave the two men a shrewd look.

  'I'm assuming it is no coincidence that you are asking me about these two women at the same time, in view of the incident?' he asked.

  'What incident would that be, sir?' Mike asked.

  'Ah, perhaps you were not aware, perhaps your interest was merely coincidence, after all? However, there was an incident involving both Mrs Mortensen and Ms Griffiths which led to us having to, as they say, get without the latter.'

  'Ms Griffiths was sacked?'

  'Not sacked, no, we simply did not renew her contract after her probationary period,' Forbes clarified. 'She did not have a great deal to commend her, according to these notes. She had already been spoken to on a few occasions about her conduct and attitude.

  'Then came the very unfortunate incident with Mrs Mortensen. It was when she was still coming in and haranguing the staff about the loss of her husband. Ms Griffiths was overheard by a member of staff sympathising with her, which was acceptable, but claiming that it was an influx of elderly patients causing bed-blocking which led to his death. Clearly, that was not acceptable. Nor was it true.

  Ted and Mike exchanged another look.

  'It is sadly accurate that we do often get elderly patients in from homes who should never have finished up here, had they simply received the proper basic care. That applies particularly with regard to maintaining fluid levels to prevent dehydration. But that was absolutely not a factor in Mr Mortensen's death and it was completely improper of Ms Griffiths to have voiced an opinion to that effect.

  'There was no elderly patient occupying a bed on the ICU at the time. They were all younger people whose needs were every bit as vital as his. We were doing everything we could do to keep him alive where he was. And it was impossible to transfer him to another hospital as he was too critically ill. The sad and simple truth is, he came in too late for us to save him.'

  'Thank you, sir, you have been most helpful,' the DS said, rising to leave.

  'Just one more thing, Mr Forbes,' Ted said, as he also stood up. 'Do you know if Mrs Mortensen still comes to the hospital? What I mean is, would your security staff have been instructed not to allow her entry?'

  'We are a hospital, Inspector. We're not really in the business of refusing entry to people,' Forbes told him. 'However, we do have a duty of care to everyone who comes through our doors. Part of that duty is to see that hospital users, especially those recently bereaved, are not further upset by incidents such as we had with Mrs Mortensen.

  'The security staff were put on alert to keep an eye out for her and to make sure her behaviour was not causing any distress to anyone else.'

  'Can you give me a description of Mrs Mortensen, sir?' Ted asked.

  The CEO turned back to the first file. 'I can do better than that, Inspector. I have a photo of her. Not a very brilliant one, admittedly. Taken from CCTV at the hospital entrance, on an occasion when she was being escorted from the premises. That was an unfortunate occasion indeed, as she was causing trouble when a reporter from the local paper was here about another matter.'

  Ted put the photo with the piece of paper inside his trench coat pocket. He and Mike headed for the doors. It was still raining hard outside.

  'Do you want to wait here and I'll bring the car round, boss?' the DS offered.

  Ted shook his head. 'We'll run between the raindrops,' he said, then added, 'My mother used to say that to me when I was little. I'd forgotten about it.

  'And it seems it's an old wives' tale,' he added, as they reached the car, hair dripping, feet soaking wet once more. 'You can drop me off near The Grapes, Mike, for my meeting with the lovely Pocket Billiards. Make sure Sal and Virgil are up to speed on the connection between Griffiths and Mortensen, then get someone round to the address we have for Angela and see what you can find.'

  He took the piece of paper and photo out of his pocket and put them in Mike's glove compartment.

  'So what do you think, boss? The two of them in league?' Mike asked. 'Griffiths spots the likely targets, Angela bumps them off?'

  'Let's not get ahead of ourselves with speculation,' Ted cautioned. 'This case is strange enough without that. But the sooner we can speak to Angela, the happier I'll feel. Just drop me here, that's fine. I'll see you back at the station later.'

  The reporter was already propping up the bar when Ted squelched his way in, cursing yet again the smart shoes he was obliged to wear for work. His walking boots would have given him dry feet at least. He noticed Alastair was nursing a half, clearly waiting for Ted to arrive and buy him something more expensive.

  'Usual for me, Dave, please, and a pint for Alastair. Lager top?'

  The reporter nodded.

  Once they had their drinks, they made their way over to a quiet table in a corner. Ted took off his wet trench coat before he sat down.

  'So, what have you got for me?'

  'I remembered afterwards about one of the times I saw the ranting woman at the hospital,' he began. 'She was badgering someone in a corridor. I went to talk to her, see what she had to say. One of those, what do you call them, almost a nurse, came over.'

  'Health Care Assistant?' Ted asked.

  'Yeah, one of those, I think. Built like a prop forward. Anyway, she started banging on, too. Going on about how too many old wrinklies were taking up beds younger people could have and how it wasn't right.

  'I would have made a good story but security came along and frog-marched the woman outside and sent the care woman packing. Then someone quickly whisked me away to where I was supposed to be, so I never got the chance to follow it up. I thought that might be useful for you.'

  His tone had turned wheedling now, obviously looking forward to the lunch he thought he had just earned himself.

  'Is that it?' Ted asked, draining his glass and standing up. 'I already know that. In fact, we're questioning that Health Care Assistant right now. And we now have an address for the woman from near Dooley Lane. You'll have to do better than that, Alastair. That only merits a bag of crisps, not a lunch.'

  He took a two pound coin out of his pocket and tossed it onto the table in front of the reporter.

  'B
ut here, I'm feeling generous. Get a bag of nuts as well.'

  He had the enormous satisfaction of seeing Pocket Billiards' look of disappointment as he turned and headed for the door.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  'Good news and bad news,' Mike said, to start the morning briefing.

  Jezza had not yet arrived or sent word. They had waited a few minutes for her to appear, then the DS had started without her.

  'The good news is that we now have a name and address for Angela. She's Angela Mortensen, widow of a man who died in hospital while waiting for a bed in intensive care.

  'The bad news is, I've been round there and couldn't find hide nor hair of her. She lives up a lane, the back end of beyond, near Otterspool. There's just a few cottages down there, a little cluster of semis, spaced out, along a lane which goes towards the river. A no-through road. It's like the land that time forgot. I'm not sure they know the war's over yet.'

  At that moment, the door opened and Jezza came in quietly and headed for her desk.

  'Nice of you to join us, DC Vine,' Mike said sarcastically.

  She did at least say sorry, not soz, before she sat down. Ted had not thought it possible for her to look any more tired. He had been wrong. She looked on the point of collapse from sheer exhaustion. He really needed to have another word.

  'So, Angela Mortensen exists. I was a bit suspicious of the name at first. I thought it was another alias. It sounded too like her Angela Mortis identity. But no, she's on the electoral register as Mortensen. And Steve checked the name out for me.'

  'Of Danish and Norwegian origin. The twentieth most common surname in Denmark. Means son of Morten,' Steve chipped in, not taking his eyes off his computer screen.

  'There was just no sign of her at her house,' Mike continued.

  'Was there a car outside, Sarge?' Rob asked.