‘And you’ll be happier yet. Goodnight, my love.’ And he left her to sleep deeply and contentedly through the remnants of her concussion.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LUCY was given a week’s sick leave in which to recuperate, after being discharged from Sick Bay, and since Barney was still not permitted to work alone, pending the inquest on the sailor (which was delayed while the police continued their enquiries) they were able to spend a very agreeable time. The weather was warm, and they swam at the local pool several times, and dined and went to theatres, and altogether behaved more like a pair of starry eyed lovers than suspects in a most unpleasant triple murder case—murders complicated by drug-running and arson.
But they felt no guilt about their gaiety because somehow the whole investigation seemed to have ground to a halt. Spain mooched about the hospital, with Travers close behind him, looking more and more lugubrious. By the end of the week he wasn’t even able to raise a smile, let alone one of his flip remarks. He did tell Barney, when they met in the hospital coffee shop three days after the murder of Roberta Vickers, that the visit to the Bobby Vee had told him nothing.
‘The ruddy ship had been stripped to the woodwork. Not a piece of paper, not so much as a bag with the name of a shop on it could I find. No letters. Nothin’, Even the phone book—and we looked at every flippin’ page—even that had nothin’ on it. Hopeful about that I was—phone books often do give you a lead. People will scribble on ’em. But there it is. No one on the other boats in the Basin knew anything about Quayle and this Vickers. Thought they were just a quiet respectable married couple. Well, I know they weren’t that. Checked on birth and wedding registrations and Gawd knows what else, and Quayle was married all right—to some woman we can’t trace. I feel right up a blind alley, and it’s not comfortable.’
The mood of the hospital improved in inverse ratio to Spain’s patent discontent. The more sulky he looked because of his inability to get any further with his investigations, the more cheerful everyone else became. Derek Foster looked positively smug because, as he put it, ‘I like to see policemen up a gum tree,’ and Colin Jackson was much less surly now that the hospital was running along its usual well oiled paths again.
Jeff was still working in the laboratories not because, as he was at some pains to point out to Barney, he had been cleared of any complicity in the blood switching business, but because there was no one else to do his work.
‘Pathologists are hard to come by, Barney. Not like anaesthetists. Believe me, if Stroud had someone else to put in my place, he’d suspend me too. I’m really sorry you’re lumbered, though.’
‘I’ll get over it,’ Barney had grunted. But it hurt all the same. Work mattered to Barney, mattered a great deal, and enforced idleness didn’t suit him in the least.
But he had Lucy, and in that week, their feeling for each other grew and stretched itself, and developed substance. For Lucy what had started as a simple attraction became, she knew, a life long commitment. Whatever happened, whether she and Barney did decide to spend their lives together (even in her most secret thoughts, she found it difficult to use the word marriage. It seemed like tempting Providence) her own die was cast. No one else would ever mean quite so much to her.
On the last night of her week’s sick leave, they had dinner at an hotel that lay long and low beside the river near Maidenhead. They sat under fairy lit trees in a garden at the edge of the water, and ate iced soup and salmon salad and strawberries, and drove back to the hospital in a haze of sheer contentment.
Barney parked the car in the Consultants’ car park, not caring at all for protocol, and arm in arm they walked across the courtyard towards the hospital, for Barney had insisted that Lucy should come to the doctors’ common room for a goodnight cup of coffee.
‘We’ll cut through Casualty,’ he said, as they made their way across the dark courtyard. ‘It’ll be quicker——’
He pushed open the rubber edged doors, and stood back to let Lucy through, dropping a kiss on the back of her neck as she passed him.
The waiting room was only partially lit, for it was almost midnight, and no patients were in the department at all. The rows of tubular steel and canvas chairs sat mutely, some with tattered magazines on their seats, and the assorted posters on the walls, appealing for blood donors and Civil Nursing Reserve volunteers and urging mothers to take care of their children’s teeth, looked down almost benevolently on them as they walked slowly across the tiled floor.
They had just reached the doors on the far side, the doors that led into the outpatient department and the short cut through to the medical staff quarters, when Lucy heard it, and stopped.
‘There’s a cat in here, Barney,’ she said. ‘Listen.’
Barney tilted his head and they stood silent for a moment, and then he laughed.
‘You’re hearing things——’
‘No, I’m not. I distinctly heard a mewing noise—all muffled. It must be old Scatty, from the Pharmacy. The poor old thing’s got nowhere to go since the fire. She keeps getting into the oddest places. If she’s using one of the trolleys for a bed, Sister Byron’ll do her nut. We’d better get the wretched animal out——’
‘But—just a minute.’ Barney listened again. ‘You’re right. I heard it too—over by the canteen counter——’
The faint sound had seemed to come from the far corner of the big waiting room, by the little section where the WVS dispensed tea and doorstep sandwiches and chocolate biscuits to waiting patients.
Barney went in front of Lucy, weaving his way through the chairs and peering into the shadows by the stack of extra chairs beside the tea urn.
‘Come on, Scatty—come on, you benighted cat. Come out of there. Go and catch mice in the kitchens——’ he called softly.
The sound came again, but this time it wasn’t a mewing at all.
‘Good God,’ Barney said, and suddenly crouched down to peer between the back row of the waiting chairs and the counter. ‘What the hell——’
Lucy peered over his shoulder, and then pushed quickly past to get closer to the source of the noise.
It was the huddled figure of a woman, and she was lying on the floor, her legs drawn up and her arms clutched round them, her head curving down against her chest. She looked more like a bundle of old clothes than a human being.
Together they lifted her, and made her sit in a chair between them, and she moaned and tried to pull away from them. But Lucy’s practised movements made it impossible for her to resist their gentle insistence.
‘What’s the matter?’ Barney asked, ‘Are you feeling ill? Tell me what’s the matter, and I can help you—I’m a doctor.’
The woman raised her head and looked at him, and then at Lucy, and Lucy drew back, suddenly repelled and shocked.
At first glance, the woman had looked middle aged—about forty or so, but now Lucy could see that she was in fact very young—probably not twenty. But her skin had a greyish colour, and there were red marks on her cheeks, as though she had been scratching at them. Her nose was running slightly, but she didn’t seem to notice or care, and her eyes under the wild and unkempt hair stared in an odd fashion. It was a moment or two before Lucy could realise why the eyes looked so strange, but then she recognised the cause. The irises looked huge and very blue in comparison with the tiny black pupil in the centre. It gave her a blank almost blind look.
Suddenly the woman put out a hand and clutched Lucy’s. It felt horrid—the skin was wet with perspiration, and the nails were rough and broken, and Lucy had to use a considerable effort of will not to pull her hand away in disgust.
‘Doctor?’ she said, and the voice was husky, sounding as though it wasn’t used very often. ‘Doctor? You’ll help me, Doctor?’
‘I’m a nurse,’ Lucy said gently. ‘We’ll help you, both of us. What’s the matter? Won’t you explain?’
‘I’ve got to see him, I’ve got to. It won’t take long, but I’ve got to, you must let me, righ
t now, you—must——’
Suddenly she let go of Lucy’s hand, and bent forwards again, clutching at her middle, and again she moaned with the high pitched mewing sound they had heard before. Anxiously Lucy bent over her, and said, ‘What is it? Have you a pain? Where?’
The woman nodded, and moaned again, and then straightened up slightly, moving experimentally.
‘It hurts,’ she whimpered. ‘It hurts. I’ve got to see him. I can’t stand this any more—I’ve got to see him. Let me see him, please. Don’t make me go on like this. Let me see him—please——’ and again she clutched at Lucy’s hand.
‘See who?’ Barney said, and taking hold of the woman’s shoulders gently pulled her round to look at him. ‘See who?’
‘He’s got it, he must have it,’ she said, and whimpered again, and again clutched at her middle and cried, and retched.
‘Lucy, help me get her on to a trolley. We’ve got to get her into Cas and take a good look at her——’
They lifted her on to one of the trolleys—and she really was very light and bony under the heavy coat she was wearing—and together pushed her through the waiting room and into the main Casualty room.
Staff Nurse Graham poked her head out of the office door, and stared at them in surprise.
‘Hello, Sister! Where did you find a patient? Was she outside? Lord, I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear anyone come in——’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Barney said crisply. ‘I want her in a cubicle—right now.’
Nurse Graham scuttled across towards a cubicle and swished open the curtains, and then helped pull the trolley alongside the couch and lift the patient on to it.
With practised hands, she and Lucy began to undress her, and Barney said, ‘Put her into a gown, will you? I’ll be back in a second——’ and went hurrying across to the office.
When he came back, the girl was lying on the couch swathed in a white hospital gown, and rolling her head from side to side on the pillow, whimpering and muttering. ‘I’ve got to see him. Right now—you must let me see him—please——’
‘I’ve sent for Spain,’ Barney said, as he pulled off his tweed jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. ‘He’ll be here in a minute.’
‘Why?’ Lucy was puzzled. ‘What’s he wanted for?’
‘Because I think this girl might give us the answer to a lot of problems——’ He started to examine the girl on the couch, listening to her chest, and then rolling up one sleeve to check her blood pressure. He looked up at Lucy’s puzzled face before he put the cuff on the thin arm.
‘Come on, love!’ he said, and his voice carried a rallying note. ‘Surely you’ve worked it out? Look at this arm——’
It was thin and dirty, and along the inner side of the forearm there were several red and angry looking septic spots—and there were scratches, too. Lucy stared, and then looked quickly at the girl’s face, shining in the overhead light because the skin was sweating heavily. She put out her hand, and gently lifted one of the girl’s closed eyelids, and looked again at the eye beneath, and took a sharp breath.
‘Precisely,’ Barney said, and then hooked the stethoscope into his ears again as Nurse Graham swiftly attached the tube on the cuff to the blood pressure gauge on the wall.
After a moment, Barney pulled the stethoscope from his ears so that it dangled round his neck, and grunted as Nurse Graham removed the cuff. Then he leaned over the girl again.
She was still moaning, still rolling her head from side to side, and had her knees drawn up sharply under the red blanket that covered her. But when Barney spoke, very softly, she stopped moaning, and opened her eyes, and turned her head to stare eagerly at him.
‘Do you want a fix?’
‘What did you say?’ she almost whispered it.
‘I said, do you want a fix?’ Barney repeated.
‘Oh, God, yes—yes. Please—please, mister, have you got one, please? Now? I got money—I got it tonight—I did, on the docks, please, mister——’
Barney’s face hardened as he stared down at her, and then he bit his lip.
‘You poor little—I don’t want any money. You can have a fix. But I want you to promise two things, first.’
‘Yes—yes, yes, yes,’ she gabbled. ‘Anything at all, only don’t make me wait any more, please—please——’
‘You’ve got to tell me who you came here to see, and you’ve got to promise to come into hospital for treatment. It won’t be cold turkey, I promise you, though it won’t be nice. But you’ve got to come all the same—is it a deal?’
‘Yes!’ she almost shrieked it. ‘Yes—now—now, please——’
‘Nurse Graham!’ Barney said sharply. ‘I want an intravenous tray, fast, with fifteen milligrams of heroin.’ He turned back to the girl again. ‘You’re mainlining, aren’t you?’ and she nodded eagerly.
Nurse Graham brought the tray at the same moment that Spain came pushing through the doors with the faithful Travers close behind.
‘What’s the flap?’ he asked, peering over Barney’s shoulder as he swabbed the crook of the girl’s elbow, and picked up the prepared syringe. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Hang on,’ Barney said, and gently pushed the plunger home. The girl moaned again, and rolled her head, and drew up her knees, but Lucy held her gently and firmly, and the needle didn’t move in the vein. When Barney withdrew it and dropped it with a clatter in the dish Nurse Graham held ready for him, they all stood staring down at the girl on the couch.
It seemed to happen so quickly. She began to breathe more deeply, and her whole body seemed to relax, and soften, and somehow look younger again.
Then she turned her head and looked up at Barney a little drowsily, and smiled widely. Her teeth were blackened and ugly, but it was a sweet smile that lifted her face.
‘Thanks,’ she said huskily.
Barney sat down beside her on the couch, and took one of the thin dirty hands in his own.
‘Your turn now, love,’ he said gently. ‘Come on. Talk. You promised.’
She turned her head away again, but he put out a finger and hooked it under her chin, and made her look at him.
‘You promised,’ he said, and his tone was crisp and very authoratitive. ‘So. Who were you looking for? Your pusher?’
She nodded, a little sulkily.
‘Why did you look for him here?’
‘Because he told me he was coming here, that’s why. Two weeks ago. I got a big supply and he said he’d be back in two weeks but I could get more from the usual place if I needed it. But when I went to the boat tonight there was no one there and——’
‘What is all this?’ Spain said, and for the first time there was real irritation in his voice.
‘I’m sorry,’ Barney said in a low voice. ‘I didn’t have time to explain. She’s a junkie. A heroin addict. She came here tonight looking for a fix—a dose of heroin—because she was suffering from withdrawal symptoms—and they’re damned painful and unpleasant. I made a deal with her—a dose to tide her over in exchange for information. And that’s why I wanted you here—to hear it——’
He turned back to the girl. ‘Come on, love. Tell me more. Who was it? Quayle?’
She whipped her head round and stared at him then. ‘If you know, what the bloody hell are you nagging me for? Leave me alone——’
‘No, I won’t. So, Quayle was your pusher.’
‘Yes, he is.’ She stopped then, and stared at Barney. ‘Did you say was?’
Barney nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.
‘Quayle’s dead,’ he said softly. ‘He was murdered.’
‘Oh, my God,’ the girl said, and then started to shake. ‘Oh, my God——’
‘So, you’re in trouble, aren’t you? What’ll you do now? You’d be much better off to come into hospital for treatment the way you promised you would——’
She laughed suddenly, a shrill laugh. ‘Junkie’s promises! Who cares for them? I’d say anything to get a fix. Don’t you
know that?’
‘Yes I know. And if you want another when you come down from this one, you’d better let me have the answers I want. There’ll be no help for you otherwise——’
‘Barney——’ Lucy put her hand out. ‘Barney—for pity’s sake! You can’t treat her this way—giving her more of the drug——’
But he shook his head at her, and returned to the girl, his voice taking on an even harsher note.
‘So? What’s it to be? Do you tell me?’
There was a short silence, and then she said sulkily, ‘Tell you what?’
‘What you’ll do now your pusher’s dead?’
A glint came into her eye, a sly one, and she looked at him under her lashes.
‘Get it from the other feller,’ she said, and giggled.
‘Which other fellow?’
‘His supplier. The one here.’
There was a sharp hiss as Spain took a sudden breath, and leaned a little closer.
‘Who is he?’ he asked in a sharp and rather loud voice. ‘Come on—who is he? I’m a policeman, ducky, and if you don’t come out with it, I’ll take you in—and you know what that means, don’t you? So come on. Who?’
‘I don’t bloody well know!’ the girl shouted back at him. ‘But he’s here, and I’ll find him somehow. Someone’ll know, somewhere, one of the crowd. I’ll find out—as long as you know where a pusher hangs out, sooner or later you find out who he is. I’ll get by. Leave me alone——’ and she began to swear with a fluency that overwhelmed even Spain.
‘Stop that!’ This was Nurse Graham, and she leaned forwards and gave the girl a firm shake of the shoulders. And as suddenly as she had started, the girl stopped, and flopped down again on the couch, and turned her back to them to lie curled up in the babyish position in which Lucy and Barney had first found her.
Spain leaned forwards as though to speak to her again, but Barney shook his head, and pulled him back. Together they came out of the cubicle, with Lucy and the taciturn Sergeant Travers following them, leaving Nurse Graham to look after the girl.
Death on the Table Page 13
