She pointed at the paper in front of him, then realised that it was rude to point, pulling her hand back quickly. Her fingers were long and slim, with clear oval nails. And he noticed that she wore no rings.
“She hadn’t been diabetic for long and it was very mild. It would probably have disappeared after the birth, until perhaps her next pregnancy.” She realised what she’d said, and her voice faded away painfully. Craig could see sadness written on her face and something occurred to him.
“When did you become a consultant, Dr Stevens?”
She glared at him defensively and her voice hardened. “Why? How is that any of your business?” Then she realised how she sounded. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just ...”
Craig knew from John that it was a long path to becoming a medical consultant. Her sex couldn’t have made it any easier. She’d probably spent every day proving herself to dickheads like Murdock. Sandi gave her a sympathetic look that said she understood completely.
“I was made consultant in December. This is my first consultant post and my first job in Belfast in thirteen years. I went to London immediately after graduation, so I’m still settling back.” Craig nodded, remembering how displaced he’d felt when he’d returned home five years before.
“Shall we continue with the events of the 8th of April, Dr Stevens?”
She nodded tiredly, restarting. “I saw Evie at nine pm and stayed with her for about twenty minutes. I was examining her at first, and then, well just chatting really. She was so excited about the baby. She told me that her husband Brian had been down earlier with her Mother.”
“Did you ever meet either of them?”
“No. I saw her mother once. She was at the end of the ward chatting to Beth. That’s the midwife. The only person I’d actually met and spoken to was her father, Mr Hill.”
“How did you know the woman you saw was her mother?”
She smiled slightly. “Well, I didn’t for sure, but I think it was. Evie was very like her.” Craig nodded. He’d noticed the resemblance at the Manse.
“How did you find Mr Hill when you met him?”
She smiled ruefully and Craig noticed her teeth. They were white and pretty. How could anyone have pretty teeth?
“Honestly? I thought he was scary. He was concerned about Evie of course, but... Well it just seemed that everything about him carried some sort of threat. I’m not sure how exactly, but that’s the feeling I got. He was polite enough, just scary.”
Craig nodded coolly, not giving anything away. He recognised her description from every career criminal he’d met. Years of violence and greed ingrained in every pore.
“Please continue.”
“When I left Evie, I noticed Beth at the other end of the ward. So I waved at her. We’ve known each other for years.”
It occurred to Craig that she might be gay and he pushed the thought away. None of his business if she was.
“She seemed busy, so I left, intending to check on Evie the next day. I was going to my office to do some letters. I had to stay around the M.P.E. because we were covering admissions that night. Anyway, I was on my way there when I noticed Mr Hill standing outside the ward, smoking. He was in the patio garden between the glass corridors, so I went to have a word with him. He was devoted to Evie so I just wanted to assure him everything was fine.
We chatted for about five minutes, or should I say he interrogated me again. But he seemed happier when I left. I had the impression that the baby meant almost as much to him as to Evie somehow. Anyway, just as I left I saw Mr Murdock approaching. He was on the parallel corridor, so we didn’t actually cross paths. Then I went to my office to work.”
“Where is your office?”
“In the old part of the hospital, at the back. It used to be the Dunmore Medical Centre.”
Craig nodded, remembering it from his youth. It had been a student health centre.
“All the consultants’ offices are there now - in the Admin Suite.”
“Did anyone see you there?”
She bristled immediately. “Yes actually, they did, Chief Inspector. Tell me something Mr Craig, am I a suspect in something here? Apart from obviously missing something that could have saved my patient’s life?”
She leaned forward angrily and he noticed how blue her eyes were, pushing the thought away quickly. “Don’t you think I feel bad enough without having to give you alibis?”
Craig considered her calmly. She was an interesting combination of gentleness and force. The only other woman he’d encountered that in was Julia. It was an attractive and dangerous mix. He sat back in his chair, distancing himself.
“I understand that this is difficult Dr Stevens, but it is routine. We’ve already asked all your colleagues. So please just answer the question.”
His voice had become firmer, as if that somehow compensated for his whole body’s inclination to give her a free-pass. She sat back defiantly for a moment, hating him. As she stared him out he realised that she looked like someone he knew. His ex-fiancée Camille! The only woman who’d ever broken his heart. It made her even more dangerous and he moved his chair back slightly. When she finally spoke she ground the words out.
“Iain was there.”
“Iain?”
“Yes, Dr Iain Lewes. He’s a paediatrician. He checks out all the new babies.” Then she smiled, distracted for a moment. “Evie’s baby’s beautiful, I saw her this morning. Have you seen her?” She immediately felt foolish, realising that he was unlikely to be interested.
“No, I haven’t seen her, but I’ve been told she’s lovely.” His voice softened and Katy smiled, liking him a bit more.
“I first knew Evie was dead yesterday afternoon. I was intending to go and check her at five after my meeting at St Marys, when my P.A. phoned to tell me. I wasn’t called to either Evie or the baby on Monday night. I wasn’t even aware that she had been born.” She looked sad, remembering. “Evie was declared dead in theatre, by Mr Murdock. I think it was at four-twenty, but you’ll have those notes already.” She hesitated for a moment.
“Mr Hill rang my office yesterday and shouted at my secretary. But that’s totally understandable, it was just grief talking.”
Craig didn’t want to frighten her, so he parked the comment for later action. Maybe it was just Tommy’s grief talking, but he wouldn’t put a bet on it. The room fell silent for a moment, and only the tape’s slight buzz was audible. Eventually Craig broke the quiet. “Thank you, Dr Stevens, that’s nearly everything now. I’m sorry if this has been stressful. I only have one question left.”
She gazed up at him and he could see that her eyes were wet.
“Why do you keep saying it’s your or the other staff’s fault that Evie is dead? Surely you did your best to help her?”
She shook her head slowly, weariness settling on her slim shoulders. “When someone comes into hospital, they trust us. If not to make them better, then at least not to make them worse. So if someone, especially someone so young and fit, dies, then it has to be our fault. You must see that?
If we’d done our jobs better she would be alive now. But she’s dead, so someone failed her. I don’t believe in medical accidents, Mr Craig, it’s always someone’s fault. Beth will tell you the same. I know she will.”
Craig regarded her carefully, his eyes searching her slim face. It was tempting to be cynical. So many people were liars, and some people lied like it was their hobby. But he’d never managed it completely, because he knew there were good people. He just got to meet more of the bad. Finally he nodded and pressed off the tape, watching as she relaxed. “Thank you for coming in, Dr Stevens. I hope we won’t have to bother you again. But please, if Mr Hill gets in touch with you, or you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call us.” He produced a card from his pocket.
“This is the squad number and you can access me 24/7. We give this information to everyone we interview.”
Sandi turned her head away quickly, but no
t before he caught the start of her smile. Craig shot her a pleading look. Thankfully Katy missed the exchange.
“Thank you Chief Inspector, but I don’t think he’ll bother me again. He was just lashing out. But it’s reassuring, thank you.”
He didn’t put out his hand to shake, knowing it was just his excuse to touch her again.
“Sandi, could you show Dr Stevens out please. And ask Sergeant Harris if he’s free for a moment.”
When they emerged Natalie was sitting in reception, noticeably ignoring Nigel Murdock. She fixed Sandi with a chastising glare and cosseted Katy like a mother. Then they left the station as if it was on fire. Sandi watched them head across the road to The Merchant Hotel, perhaps for a drink. She wished she was going too, instead of having six more hours to work.
Jack popped his head around the door of the interview room.
“Jack, I need Tommy Hill watched. Do you know who’s on for the Demesne Estate these days?”
“Reggie Boyd’s team.”
“Ask them to keep an eye out, will you? They can link back with Liam. Dr Stevens’s putting Tommy’s threats down to shock and grief and that’s definitely the trigger. But you and I know him of old.”
“We do indeed. Leave that with me, sir.” He paused and smiled at Craig. “Nice wee thing, isn’t she?” Craig treated the question as rhetorical, and Jack smiled wisely.
“Is Murdock’s brief here yet?”
“Not yet. And he’s got steam coming out of his ears.”
“All the more reason to have another coffee and let him stew. Anyway, we need to choose the Fantasy League for the FIFA Cup.”
As they walked into the back office Craig pulled a tenner from his pocket. He turned to Sandi.
“I don’t suppose I could persuade you to nip out for some donuts, Sandi? I need to check in with Nicky.”
She smiled, admonishing him gently. “Now, sir, you know that’s not in my job description.”
“Quite right too, Sandi. That’s you told off, sir.”
Craig smiled an apology. It wasn’t sexism. He’d often done the donut run when he was a constable. But things were different nowadays. He was just about to put the note away when Jack snatched it from his hand and opened the reception door.
“However, I have no such principles and I’m starving. Sandi, you watch the desk and I’ll nip out. They do Krispy Kremes three doors down.” He patted his stomach and grinned, heading off while Craig made his call.
“Hi Nicky – do you need me for anything?” He listened for a few seconds, as she outlined a query from the records department.
“That’s fine, it can wait. I’m back at four. Could you call Liam and ask him to check out a Dr Iain Lewes, please. He’s a paediatrician at the Trust. Ask him to verify his movements on Monday night. I need to know if he was in the consultant’s offices after nine on Monday night. And, if he saw Dr Katy Stevens there. He’s her alibi.” He listened for a moment longer, then said. “Fine, bye.” clicking his phone shut just in time for a glazed ring.
When it finally happened, the interview with Nigel Murdock went exactly where Craig had expected. Nowhere. His glamorous solicitor made him to answer ‘no comment’ to so many questions, that virtually all they got was his name and that he’d been Evie’s consultant.
He was willing to confirm that she’d been well when he’d called in at nine on Monday evening. And that he hadn’t expected to be called back that night at all. Her Caesarean wasn’t due, and anyway the registrar would have been carrying it out when it was! The last piece of information was stated as if she’d somehow inconvenienced him by dying. Craig was starting to loathe the man.
“Can you tell me what happened at four-twenty on Tuesday morning, Mr Murdock?” Murdock glanced at his solicitor and she nodded. Then he turned back to Craig with a sneering smile. He had a very ugly expression. Each feature taken separately might have worked, but put together, he resembled an arrogant ex-boxer. One who’d taken too many punches. Craig recognised old rugby injuries in his upper lip scarring, and sincerely hoped that they’d hurt him. A lot.
“Waaall...” He drawled the word loudly in a Cultra accent. No question about it, this man was the product of too much in-breeding. “Of course...she was dead before we got to theatre. Just being oxygenated so that I could get the child out. Which I did, through the usual Pfannenstiel incision. I saved its life of course.”
There was no emotion apparent in the man except pride at his own expertise. Craig compared his coldness to Katy Stevens’ groundless guilt, and wanted him out of the station fast, before he hit him. He wrapped up the interview quickly, pressing the tape recorder off far too hard. There was nothing to be gained from sitting opposite this ‘no commenting’ slug, except a headache.
“Thank you for coming in Mr Murdock. That’s all for now, we’ll be in touch. The W.P.C. will show you out.” He rang through for Sandi and left the room so quickly that even the jaded solicitor seemed surprised. Then he walked straight past Jack, through the side-door and into the parking lot, sucking hard at the fresh air.
Jack followed him out and stood beside him, shaking his head. “Some people make you want to bring back the stocks.”
Craig laughed out loud despite his anger. “They had stocks outside the Rotterdam Bar until the nineties. Could we re-instate them for obnoxious bastards? What do you think, Jack? A memo to headquarters might do it.”
“I’m sure they get worse suggestions than that.”
Craig stood for a moment, relaxing. Then he stood up straight, mentally deleting the last half-hour, and Nigel Murdock. “Right, here we go. Last interview and then back to the ranch. Has Beth Walker arrived yet?”
“Aye.... she has that. And a bit worse for wear too. I’ll send Sandi in. With two extra strong coffees this time...”
***
Liam yawned and stretched, gazing around the small ward room they’d been allocated for interviews. It was windowless and airless and he was fighting hard not to fall asleep. He had print-outs of Davy’s background checks in front of him. Most people had been relegated to the ‘innocent’ pile, but one still sat there, read and re-read. Charles McAllister’s.
It read like an example of the perfect life. Good school, good university, health service management scheme and on up through the ranks. Hardly a post lasting longer than two years before promotion to the next rung. He was only forty-five and this was his third Chief Exec’s post, each time running bigger trusts. Until now he ran St Marys. One of the largest in the UK.
What was even more interesting was that he’d done it without the traditional executive’s stay-at-home wife. With 2.4 kids trotted out for photo opportunities, to gaze up at him adoringly. In real life, Mrs McAllister was a partner at Feeney’s Accountants. And there were no photo-ops and no kids; whether by fate or design. Then there was her avoiding Joe’s eyes when she gave McAllister his alibi.
No, something was wrong here. It was all too perfect, and Liam didn’t like ‘perfect’.
He got a sudden ache in his shoulder and nodded to himself. He always got it when there was something not quite right. And there was something very ‘not right’ about Charles McAllister. He was up to his eyes in something. But what?
He yawned again and then lifted the phone to the squad, catching Davy at his desk. “Davy son, I need a wee word...”
Chapter Eleven
Beth Walker was definitely the worse for wear. She looked nothing like the bouncy little thing Craig had met the day before. Her eyes were swollen from obvious crying and he could smell alcohol on her breath. A lot of alcohol. The scent rose from her like perfume, despite her minty attempts to hide it. She was dressed in a scruffy t-shirt and torn skinny jeans, with a pixie hat perched precariously on her head. She waved a vague apology for her dishevelled look, chewing gum sheepishly.
“Sorry, but I just couldn’t cope last night. I went home and got drunk. No crime there officer... is there?” She giggled. When Craig didn’t laugh back her eyes wide
ned and she pulled herself upright, suddenly realising that the interview might be recorded.
“Hang on. What’s happening? I agreed to have a chat to tell you what I knew, not to be interrogated. Do I need a solicitor?”
Craig leaned back in his chair trying to look serious, but fighting the urge to laugh. If Beth had looked like a Telly-Tubby yesterday she resembled a drunken elf now.
“I don’t know Ms Walker. Do you need a solicitor?” She scowled at him and her lip ring dug in. It looked painful. “We haven’t actually asked you anything yet.”
“Yes, but she doesn’t look very friendly...” She indicated Sandi with a small finger. “And I don’t like the look of that tape-recorder. Did you do this with the others? Is this ’cos I’m gay? Although I certainly don’t feel very gay today.”
She giggled again and Craig regarded her despairingly. They might need to leave it until she wasn’t fifty percent proof.
“It’s just an informal chat, Ms Walker. We’re offering to tape everyone so we don’t have to repeat the questions. But we can leave the tape off if you wish? Or hold the interview tomorrow when you’re feeling better...rested? If you’d like someone here with you, then that’s fine. We can wait until you get a solicitor.”
“Am I being accused of something?”
“No. Not at all. We’re just piecing together what happened on Monday evening. You were the deceased’s midwife and you were on duty.”
She relaxed instantly and shrugged. “Oh well. I know I’m drunk, but as the Nuns used to say, ‘In Vino Veritas’. I think that means when you booze you tell the truth. Or something like that. I don’t have anything to hide and I want to help Evie. Sorry for being defensive. I’m just a bit pissed-off that no one listened to me before. I’ve been telling people this was going to happen since February. Even earlier - since Deborah McCance died.
And now, here we are again. A few months later and another death. How many women have to die before people do something? If they’d listened to me back then, maybe this wouldn’t be happening. Sorry. I know that’s nasty of me and I don’t mean that it’s your fault personally. But, well, you know what I mean.”
The Visitor (#3 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) Page 9
