“Yes. Everything’s kept in there: towels, bed linen, spare dressing gowns; even some white coats. Professor Taylor still likes the doctors on E.M.U. to wear them.”
Even though they’d been outlawed for hygiene reasons seven years before.
“Reilly’s residents prefer their own bed-linen, but there are spares in the linen room, just in case.”
Annette nodded, making a note to visit the long-stay suite. She smiled the girl on.
“At eleven o’clock I was going to the linen room and Caro was leaving the unit for her coffee break.”
“How do you know it was eleven?”
Donard made a face. “Because I was supposed to be going for elevenses too, down in the canteen, but Sister insisted that I got the towels first.”
“Fine. Carry on.”
Annette reached for her cup, frowning at the biscuits as if their presence was an affront. She’d lost nine kilos since July and she wasn’t going to let some seductress of a Jammy Dodger ruin it now.
“I was standing by the linen room door, just about to go in, when Caro left for her coffee. That’s when I noticed the trolley.”
Annette set down her cup without taking a sip. “What made you notice it? Surely there are trollies all over the ward.”
Donard shook her head excitedly and Carmen leaned forward in the viewing room, pressing her nose against the two-way glass.
“Not like this one. There are instrument and dressing trolleys everywhere, but the linen trolley is much bigger and heavier than those are. I noticed it because it’s normally inside the linen room; Sister Norton goes ballistic if it isn’t, in case someone hurts themselves on it.”
Annette wrinkled her brow quizzically. “Are the edges sharp?” She already knew the question was stupid; a sharp edge wouldn’t be allowed on a modern ward – Health and Safety.
Donard shook her head. “No, but it’s heavy. If a child pulled it down on top of them they would be badly hurt. We get lots of kids visiting their grandparents, and scout troops as well, coming to cheer the patients up.”
“So where was the linen trolley?”
“In front of the sluice room door. I thought one of the porters had just been lazy; it’s their job to make sure it stays inside the linen room.”
Annette nodded. “What happened then?”
The nurse glanced away, remembering. “I said I’d meet Caro in the canteen then I went in to get the towels.”
She paused looking ashamed and Annette knew she was chastising herself for thinking about coffee while her friend was lying dead. She smiled kindly.
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I know, but…”
Annette shook her head firmly. “No buts. Everyone looks back and feels guilty when someone dies. The only ones who don’t are murderers. Tell me what happened next.”
Carmen turned to Jack behind the mirror. “Is that true?”
“What? That only murderers don’t feel guilty?”
She nodded and he thought for a moment before shaking his head.
“Yes and no. Not everyone innocent feels guilty, especially if they hated the deceased, and not all murderers shrug it off, some of them try to justify what they’ve done and some bury it under drink or drugs, trying to forget. Depends on why they killed. But generally it’s correct; most perps don’t have the same conscience that normal people do.”
He pointed Carmen back to the interview. Hannah Donard was close to tears as she described what she’d found inside the linen room.
“I just… I just walked inside and started rummaging through the towels. I didn’t even look around me. I was annoyed that I couldn’t go to the canteen, annoyed about a bloody cup of coffee.”
Her voice broke and Annette gave her a minute before she gently urged her on. “What did you notice in the room?”
Donard closed her eyes at the memory, squeezing salty tears down her cheeks. After a moment she answered, her voice even huskier than before. “Her shoe.” She corrected herself with her eyes still closed. “A shoe. I saw a shoe.” Her eyes flew open. “I didn’t know it was Ellie’s, not…”
Annette leaned forward, anxious not to let the girl get distracted. “What do you remember seeing next?”
The nurse swallowed hard, forcing the tears away. “A foot and… a leg, then a nurse’s uniform.” She stared past Annette at the wall. “She was wearing her cardigan. Ellie was always cold – we used to tease her about it.”
Annette’s voice was firm. “Did you see her face? Did you know it was your friend?”
Donard shook her head. “I couldn’t move. I just screamed.”
“So when did you know it was Eleanor Rudd?”
“Later. Sister told me later.”
“Tell me what happened when you screamed.”
The tears flowed again. “I couldn’t move. I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
Annette already knew. She’d been afraid that the body would move suddenly, that the killer was still there or that death was contagious somehow; the usual reasons for fear when you unexpectedly find someone dead. But she still needed to hear it from Hannah Donard.
Donard shook her head. “It sounds ridiculous.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I thought that… that if I tried to walk to the door, she would grab me.” She laughed and then stifled it, aware how incongruous it seemed.
Annette nodded. “It’s a common reaction.” She urged the girl on. “What happened when you screamed?”
“Someone came. I, I think it was Dr Cooke. He took me out of the room then someone must have called the police.”
Annette’s ears pricked up. It was the first time she’d heard Cooke’s name and she was sure it would be new to Craig.
“Who’s Dr Cooke?”
Donard waved a hand vaguely as if Cooke was standing there. “Adrian? He’s the F2 on the ward.”
Medical titles had changed since Annette’s day but she knew an F2 was a doctor in training’s grade.
“Tell me about him.”
Donard’s vagueness continued. “He’s just Adrian. Nice.” Suddenly her eyes widened, as if she’d remembered something terrible. “Oh God, it must have been awful for him.”
“What?”
“Seeing Ellie like that. They…”
Her words tailed off and a cautious look entered her eyes. Annette knew she was holding something back.
“They what?”
The nurse shook her head and Annette instantly knew there’d been something between Adrian Cooke and the deceased, but Hannah Donard wasn’t going to say what. She continued the interview for five minutes, showing Donard a plan of the linen room and getting her to mark the position of the body, then she wrapped up and called Sandi to arrange Donard’s transport home. She headed for the staff-room and was slumped in a chair with a cup of fresh tea when Carmen and Jack arrived. She glanced up as they entered.
“Well? What did you think?”
Carmen wound a copper curl round her finger thoughtfully before she answered. “She’s innocent, and I think she genuinely liked Eleanor Rudd. But she knows that if she says any more about Rudd and this Dr Cooke it will make him a suspect.”
Annette nodded. “Which means they knew each other well.” She sipped her tea. “That was useful; we’ve ruled two nurses out and one doctor in. Have a cup of tea and then we’ll go and tell the boss.”
***
4 p.m.
“OK, let’s start. There’s a lot to get through.” Craig turned round from the desk he was perched on towards his P.A. “Nicky, could you join us, please. This could get complicated and I’d like some notes.”
Just then Annette and Carmen strolled onto the floor. Craig beckoned them over and their strolls became rapid strides.
“Grab a coffee. We need to get moving on this.” He scanned the faces in front of him, deciding on the order of their reports. “OK, Liam, let’s take you and Jake first, then Annette and Carmen, followed by Davy.
I’ll wrap up.” He gestured at Liam. “Fire away.”
Craig drained his espresso and poured another as Liam folded his arms comfortably across his paunch. He looked like he was about to read them a bedtime story instead of give a report.
“OK. Jake and I interviewed all the ward staff and patients on Newman and there’s none who could have manually strangled Rudd. But we did learn something; she wasn’t very well liked.”
Craig cut in. “Why not?”
Liam shook his head. “No-one was saying. Just a general impression.”
“From the staff or the patients?”
“Mostly staff but a couple of the old ladies said Rudd was mean.”
Craig nodded. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but it meant something. “What about the males on the ward?”
“Just coming to them. There was only one male patient on Newman – an old boy of eighty-five who wasn’t well at all. He couldn’t have killed a fly. The male staff are Drs Adrian Cooke and Patrick Hamilton. Hamilton’s the ward consultant.”
Annette interrupted. “No he’s not. He’s the staff grade. It’s a non-consultant grade.”
Liam sniffed and carried on. “Well, either way he went on holiday to Greece on Tuesday night so that rules him out.”
Craig nodded. “Davy, check him out just the same. Tell me about Adrian Cooke.” For some reason the name sounded familiar.
Liam took out his notebook, squinting at its tiny pages. Annette grinned gleefully.
“Time for glasses.”
She hadn’t forgiven him for the ribbing when she’d got a pair the year before.
“I’m just tired, that’s all. OK, Adrian Cooke. Thirty-two, graduated from med school in 2004. He’s a foundation two grade in medicine and wants to specialise in elderly medicine. Been on the unit since 2012 and finishes there in six months.”
Craig halted him. “Did you get this from him?”
Liam shook his head. “Sister Norton. Cooke’s off today; I’ll interview him tomorrow.”
Annette nodded at Craig to interrupt. “We heard about Cooke this afternoon, during the interview with Hannah Donard.”
“Heard what?”
“When Donard found the body she screamed. She was in shock but she thinks Cooke was the person who came to help. Donard said it must have been awful for him seeing Ellie like that. She went to say something else but stopped herself.”
Craig leaned forward. “There was something between them?”
Annette nodded. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions but romance would be most likely, given their ages.”
Craig nodded. “Check it out, please.” He waved Liam on.
Liam smiled at the idea of a ward romance. “Speaking of ward romances, practically every nurse we interviewed had the hots for the Prof.”
Craig gawped, thinking of the middle-aged academic. “Tim Taylor? Are you sure?”
Jake interjected. “Positive, sir. I was witness to it. There was an inordinate amount of giggling every time Taylor’s name was mentioned. The sister was the worst.”
“Which sister?”
Jake gave Liam a puzzled look.
“There is only one.”
“No, there isn’t. There’s Jane Norton on Newman Ward and Hazel Gormley on Reilly.”
Liam nodded in realisation. “We haven’t got to Reilly yet. Jane Norton was the giggler. She fancies Taylor something rotten.”
Craig and Ken Smith exchanged a glance. “We got the impression that Taylor knew our victim fairly well.”
Liam nodded sagely at Jake. “What did I say, lad? Romantic rivalry. Taylor’s running that place like a harem.”
Craig smiled at the image evoked by the words and the apoplectic expressions on Annette’s and Carmen’s faces. Before a row could break out he summarised.
“OK, so you’re saying that so far none of the patients or staff on Newman could have strangled anyone, with the caveat that Dr Hamilton was away and Dr Cooke was off. Cooke will be interviewed tomorrow as a possible suspect. Anyone else?”
“A male nurse. He was strong enough to have done it but neither of us got the vibe.”
Craig trusted Liam’s instincts but the nurse still needed to be checked. “Give his name to Davy anyway. OK, thanks Liam. There’s at least another day’s interviewing on Reilly Suite, so get Joe Rice down tomorrow to help speed things up.” He turned towards Annette. “Anything useful from Hannah Donard?”
Annette shook her head. “Just confirmation of when she found Rudd, the position of the body and the fact that she feels survivor guilt. She did say something interesting about the linen trolley though.”
“Go on.”
“Well, apparently it was always kept in the linen room because it’s so heavy; in case it fell on someone, especially a child.”
“Do many visit the E.M.U.?”
Even as Craig asked the question he knew the answer was yes. He’d visited his grandparents in hospital when he was young.
“Yes. And if it fell on one of them they’d be badly hurt. Donard said the porters must have left it outside the room, being lazy.”
“OK, check that out and Davy can pull the CCTV for you.”
Davy shook his head. “S…Sorry chief, I can’t. There’s CCTV pretty much everywhere in the unit but there. The linen, s…sluice and clinical rooms are in an uncovered area.”
Craig was astounded, not because of the linen room but because of the drugs in the clinical room lock-box. “There’s no security where they keep the controlled drugs?”
Davy smiled cheekily. “I didn’t say that. There’s CCTV inside the clinical room, just not in the area outside.”
“It’s an omission that makes choosing the linen room as a kill site look deliberate. It also points to someone who knew the unit well; who else would have known about the lack of CCTV?” He waved Annette on. “Did you get any impression of Donard’s relationship with the deceased?”
“It seemed cordial, judging by her use of her nick-name, Ellie. You don’t call someone you hate by a pet name.”
“Good point. Anything more?”
Annette shook her head and looked to Carmen for anything she’d forgotten. Carmen’s soft burr made Ken turn towards her and Nicky smile; she hadn’t forgotten her bet that she could get the two of them together someday.
“I agree with everything Annette said. Donard seemed fond of Eleanor Rudd and I’m sure something was going on between Rudd and Dr Cooke.”
“Good. OK, Davy, what have you got?”
Davy sat forward with his hands clasped between his knees. It was a new posture for him and it didn’t look very comfortable; somehow Craig doubted the try out would last.
“I pulled the CCTV from Newman W…Ward and the main hospital corridor leading to the unit, but I’m struggling to get the tapes from Reilly S…Suite. The sister says it’s the residents’ home, so we may be looking at a w…warrant there.”
Craig nodded; he’d thought it might happen. “That’s a last resort. See what you can get without it.”
“OK. Then basically there’s nothing so far.” Craig’s face fell. “I’ve viewed the tapes from W…Wednesday morning through to when you entered the E.M.U. yesterday afternoon. All there is to s…see is people going about their work. I tracked Eleanor Rudd’s movements and the last sighting of her was when she headed towards the linen room area at around ten o’clock on Thursday morning.”
“Where was Rudd going, Davy? It can’t have been to the linen room if Hannah Donard was sent there an hour later.”
Davy nodded, knocking his long hair across his face. He pushed it behind one ear and continued. “The clinical room. S…Sister Norton had sent Rudd there to check the inventory.”
Craig sighed. “So no-one noticed when Rudd disappeared for an hour – inventory can take all day.” He continued briskly. “OK, so Rudd was sent to the clinical room at ten and found dead in the linen room at eleven. That fits with John’s findings of her being dead less than an hour when she was f
ound.” He turned back to Davy. “This may be a process of elimination, Davy, but I need you to track everyone on the unit’s movements and see who else was unaccounted for at those times, OK?”
He waved him on.
“OK. The victim, Eleanor Rudd. Twenty-five-years old, lived with her parents and brother off the Newtownards Road in Belfast. S…She got her nursing degree in 2010 and rotated through wards until she joined the unit last year. Her finances w…were unremarkable, just what you’d expect. No obvious vices, no convictions for anything, not even a parking ticket in her name.”
Annette snorted. “She probably couldn’t afford one, the price they are nowadays.”
Liam jumped in quickly. “Which means you’ve had one recently, Madam. Naughty naughty.”
Craig ignored them and moved Davy on.
“Rudd had never been married, no children and no hospital attendances on record, but I’m checking that with the GP now.” He shook his head. “All she seemed to do outside work was eat and s…sleep.”
Jake gave him a rueful look. “Sounds like most of us.”
Craig cut in. “Rudd’s completely clean? No obvious motive for murder?” He was sceptical. In his experience people usually got murdered for something they’d done or knew.
Davy shrugged. “I’m getting her computer and phone dump tomorrow s…so I can tell you more then. Maybe she had an on-line gambling habit and owed money to the mob.”
Liam guffawed. “I don’t think the Granny Bingo Sites are run by them.”
A laugh rippled round the group and was followed by some chat while Craig thought. So far they had an apparently innocent victim. No, Eleanor Rudd hadn’t been universally loved by her colleagues, but then who was? And was the dislike really enough to cause her murder? Craig checked himself. He should know better than to ask that question when people were killed for something as petty as a mobile phone. OK, so Rudd hadn’t been universally popular and perhaps she’d been in a relationship with Adrian Cooke. Tim Taylor as well? Was this really just a romantic triangle gone wrong?
His next question surprised everyone but Ken. “Is Adrian Cooke married, Davy?”
He went to say “I don’t know” then he loped across to his computer instead. A few taps later he shook his head.
The History Suite (#9 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) Page 6
