Midnight Murders (12 page)

‘He could be our man,' Peter suggested. ‘He obviously went bananas, to end up in a state mental institution and then this place.'

‘I'd end up here, if I saw my family butchered.'

‘The question is, did he go sufficiently bananas to feel compelled to bury innocent people alive?' Peter sat back in his chair, ‘and then again, the killer could be Vanessa Hedley.'

Dan laughed.

‘Look at the facts. She tried to kill her old man and his mistress, and damn near succeeded. She spent six years in Broadmoor before coming here. The world and his friend has heard her fantasy of wanting to bury her old man so she could keep an eye on him. She's been a patient long enough to learn how to give injections. Security in this place is a joke, so if she really wanted to, she could gain access to drugs. And with only one guard on at night, it's easy enough to dodge your way around the hospital grounds.'

‘Your theory's fine until you take into account Vanessa's size,' Dan said. ‘She's tiny, five-foot-two, and what – seven stone?'

‘About that,' Peter agreed. ‘But that's not to say she isn't strong.'

‘Can you see her carrying a twelve-stone woman out of this place, dumping her in a hole and burying her?'

‘Vanessa was the only one who knew where the body was buried,' Peter persisted.

‘Then why did she ask the gardener to dig it up?'

‘Because she's nuts, and nutty people do nutty things.'

‘OK, where's the dirt on her clothes?' Dan asked. ‘I asked Michelle to check out her wardrobe. We found nothing. What else have you got?'

‘Adam Hayter.'

‘The therapist?'

‘Needlework and cookery.'

‘It takes all sorts. What about him?'

‘Soliciting with intent in a men's toilet and indecent exposure. Nabbed last Christmas,' Peter pushed the half-inch of column across the table.

‘Found guilty, and fined. So what?'

‘He's a pervert.'

‘Only in some people's eyes. You know who he's shacked up with?'

‘Enlighten me.' Peter finished his coffee and made a face, but he reached for the jug again. He needed something to keep him awake. The hours between two and three in the morning were always the worst.

‘Dotty Clyne.'

‘Our female impersonator. Have you seen her moustache?'

‘Yes, but she's a female all right. Says so on her medical record.'

‘I don't believe it.'

‘Anything on Harry Goldman?' Dan rubbed his hands through his thinning hair until it stood on end.

Peter put aside the cutting he was looking at and shuffled through the remaining ones. ‘Possessing and distributing pornographic material.'

‘A psychiatrist? And he's still in work?'

‘Says here it was for his PHD thesis on sexual deviants.'

‘He should know about those, with all the examples floating around this place.' Dan stamped his feet to bring back the circulation. ‘Anything else?'

‘Only wedding photographs, charity photographs, that sort of thing.'

‘Nothing on Tony Waters?' Dan asked.

‘A photograph of him taken on his appointment. A photograph of him and his wife outside the church when they married. Good Lord, he's married to that nurse – what's- her-name?'

‘Carol Ashford.'

‘You knew?'

‘His secretary told me. Why so surprised? Hospital staff marry one another all the time. Doctors, nurses. Administrators, nurses.'

‘It's just – the name.'

‘A lot of women keep their maiden names after marriage.'

‘I know, but she's fanciable, and he's weird.'

‘You can't charge a woman because you fancy her, or a man because he's a cold fish.'

‘Pity. We'd solve this case in five minutes if we could.'

‘I suggest we open a file on every member of staff and get one of the minions to enter their details in the computer. As soon as we get the killer profile from the psychologist, we'll do a cross check.'

Peter rested his head on his arms and stared at the papers littering the desk. ‘You know what the problem is here, don't you?'

‘I've a feeling you're going to tell me,' Dan said unenthusiastically.

‘We've half a dozen suspects on the staff, and we haven't even started on the patients.'

‘We'll start on their files tomorrow,' Dan said cheerfully. ‘And then the fish and chips will be on me.'

‘What's the matter?' Lyn Sullivan snapped, when Trevor left his room at three.

‘Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.' He pushed his hands into the pockets of his shabby paisley polyester dressing gown and shivered.

‘Did you want to get yourself a drink?'

‘No, a book. I can't sleep and I've finished the one I borrowed from the hospital library.'

‘There are plenty of magazines in the office.' Her anger dissipated. Trevor looked exposed and vulnerable in his shabby nightwear. And his fashionable new haircut contrasted strongly with his pale, thin, sickly-white face. ‘I was going to make myself a cup of tea. Do you want one?'

‘Please.' He followed her into the ward kitchen. ‘No one else around?'

‘They had trouble on geriatric, so we sent our auxiliaries to help, and the other nurse is on meal break.'

‘You mean you're superintending this ward alone?'

‘Locked in with all you crazy people?' Lyn smiled. ‘I'm used to it. It happens quite often at night, and once you realise that the reality of life on the wards isn't at all like the advert in the colour supplement that enticed me into becoming a psychiatric nurse, it's not that bad. Beats nine-till-five word-processing.' She switched the kettle on. ‘Toast?'

‘No, thank you.'

‘Too much alcohol?' she asked intuitively.

‘How did you guess?'

‘It happens to everyone, first time out.' The phone rang, and she was out of the room and down the ward before Trevor realised what was happening. He took over making the tea, and had a plate of toast made and buttered before she returned.

‘Anything important?'

‘Geriatric asking if they could keep our auxiliaries for another hour.'

‘You expecting more trouble?'

‘Not really.'

‘You sure?'

She eyed him over the rim of her cup. ‘You really have come a long way. Now you're over the worst, you want to take up amateur psychiatry?'

‘Sorry.'

‘You seem to have switched from depression to… '

‘Elation!'

‘Not elation. If that was the case, you'd be in real trouble. Try normality.'

‘Whatever that might mean.'

‘If Goldman sees you behaving like this, he'll throw you out of the hospital.'

‘I hope so.' Trevor smiled. ‘I really hope so. I've begun to make plans…'

‘Such as?' she interrupted.

‘To change the way I live,' he didn't want to say too much in case he sounded ridiculous or naïve. He watched her pick half-heartedly at her toast. But instead of trying to make conversation with him, she constantly glanced over his shoulder and out of the window.

‘Something's wrong, isn't it?'

‘Yes. But I've been ordered by my superior to keep my mouth shut.'

‘Tell me?'

‘No.'

‘Tell me off the record,' Trevor suggested. ‘If I discover anything, I promise not to implicate you.'

She stared at him.

‘I promise,' he repeated, sensing her hesitation.

‘Vanessa Hedley's disappeared. And we can't find her anywhere.'

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘What are you going to do?' Lyn Sullivan asked warily.

‘Inform the police so they can organise a search,' Trevor set his cup down.

‘You organise a search and I'll lose my job.' She bit her lip. ‘When I told Karl… '

‘Karl Lane?' Trevor recalled the good-looking male nurse who had tended Lyn's cuts after Vanessa went berserk.

‘He's senior duty officer tonight. When I told him Vanessa was missing, he warned me not to tell anyone until he contacted Tony Waters.'

‘Did he now?' Trevor said thoughtfully. ‘That's interesting.'

‘Not in the way you think. Karl's no murderer; he's just obsessed with saying and doing the right thing, lest it affect his promotion prospects. He doesn't want anyone berating him for kicking up a fuss that could lead to press headlines telling the world what a load of incompetents run this hospital.' She fell silent for a moment. ‘Damn! This is one situation where I can't win no matter what.'

‘I wouldn't say that,' Trevor smiled. ‘You mentioned your junior nurse was on meal break. Have you had yours yet?'

‘No.'

‘When do you go?'

‘When she gets back, which should be,' she glanced up at the clock on the wall. ‘In twenty minutes. Why?'

He held a finger to his lips. ‘He who asks no questions need tell no lies afterwards. Good tea, this,' he added innocently.

* * *

‘What the hell was that?' Dan jumped up from the table where he'd been dozing over the last of the files.

‘Fire alarm by the sound of it.' Peter ran into the outer office, where two female constables were trying to peer through a tiny window. He pushed past them and opened the door. The cool night air came as an invigorating shock after the smoke-laden stuffiness inside the van.

A security guard came running out of the main building and headed towards the wards. Peter darted after him.

‘Isn't that the ward Trevor Joseph is on?' Dan caught up with Peter, and pointed to a group of patients standing in front of the building in their nightclothes.

Peter ran the last hundred yards. He was overtaken by Karl Lane who began shouting orders at the patients who were stumbling sleepily, in drugged and tranquillised confusion. A junior nurse close to panic was calling names off a list. A cloud of black smoke billowed from an open window at the far end of the same block.

A security guard pushed his way past the patients and into the porch of the building, ignoring several bewildered nurses who'd left their own wards to see if they could help.

‘Very clever. I've never seen a guard without breathing apparatus or protective clothing run into a burning building before. What training school did he go to?' Dan said.

‘Pyromaniac's been at it again,' Peter looked around for Trevor.

‘First I've heard of a pyromaniac,' Dan said. ‘Tell me more.'

‘Remember a Michael Carpenter being brought into the station?'

‘Set a fire, and tried to kill his girlfriend and her family.'

Peter nodded. ‘The sooner we start examining the patients' files the better.'

Karl Lane continued to scream commands at the dazed patients who refused to stay still. A nurse ran after Alison Bevan who was charging down the drive in panic.

‘I was in the staff dining room on break.' Lyn ran up breathlessly and grabbed Karl. ‘Are they all out?'

‘How in hell should I know?' he snarled. ‘Your junior is bloody useless.'

Lyn took the list from the girl's shaking fingers. ‘Everyone over here,' she called out coolly. ‘Over here, or you won't be allowed back into your beds.' The threat did the trick. The dressing gowned and slippered figures shuffled slowly towards her.

‘Alison Bevan?'

‘Here.'

‘John Carter?'

‘Present, miss.'

Everyone laughed except Karl Lane, and some of the tension dissipated. Peter scanned the ranks of patients, then shrugged his arms out of his coat sleeves.

‘What do you think you're doing?' Dan asked, as Peter moved towards the building.

‘I can't see Trevor. Stupid fool's probably trying to play the hero.'

The security guard stopped Peter in the porch. ‘You can't go in there.'

‘Says who?' Peter squared up to him.

A fire engine raced up the drive, siren blaring, its wheels scattering gravel over the flowerbeds. Before it drew to a halt, Trevor stumbled, hunched and coughing, out through the inner doorway of the building.

‘You bloody fool!' Peter threw his jacket over Trevor's dressing gown. ‘Where the hell have you been?'

‘Checking to see no one was left behind,' he whispered hoarsely. ‘It's not as bad as it looks,' he informed the first fireman to leap from the engine. ‘Just some magazines, cotton wool and a blanket bundled into the sink and set alight. I turned the tap on them.'

‘Trying to roast us in our beds again, darling?' Ali Bevan glared at Michael Carpenter, who sat shivering on a bench, a sleep-numbed expression on his face.

‘I didn't – I didn't – I didn't – ' he chattered like a monkey.

‘Is anyone missing?' A fireman asked Lyn, seeing the list in her hand.

‘Yes,' she answered, giving Karl Lane a defiant look. ‘Vanessa Hedley, female, 52 years of age, five-foot-two,' she hesitated, trying to remember what colour Vanessa's hair had been that morning.

‘She's a blonde today, darling,' Roland chipped in from the crowd that had gathered outside the drug and alcohol dependency unit. ‘But there's no use looking for her,' he said blandly to the fireman. ‘She's been missing for hours.'

‘She's been missing for hours and you didn't think to inform us?' Peter turned furiously on Lyn.

‘I reported her disappearance to the senior nursing officer on duty at eight o'clock this evening,' she replied defensively.

‘And what pen-pushing moron… '

‘Karl Lane, meet Sergeant Collins and Inspector Evans,' Lyn effected the introductions.

‘A material witness in a murder case disappears, and you didn't think to inform us?' Dan turned angrily on Karl.

‘She's gone missing before,' he offered lamely.

‘For God's sake man… ' Peter began.

Dan interrupted, ‘Has she ever gone missing all night before?'

‘Not that I can remember.' Karl squirmed and looked around for Lyn. This had to be her fault, and tomorrow morning he'd see that she and not him was hauled over the coals.

‘I want to see whoever's in charge of this apology for a hospital – and I don't mean you,' Dan raged at Karl. ‘If they're not in our HQ in ten minutes, I'm going to the press. And not
just
the press either; television, radio – the works.'

‘It's three o'clock in the morning,' Karl protested feebly.

‘I couldn't give a single sweet damn what time it is,' Dan's voice dropped ominously low.

‘I'll telephone Mr Waters.'

‘In our HQ in ten minutes,' Dan repeated. ‘And in the meantime I'm instigating a full search of the whole hospital and all the grounds.'

‘You can't do that. Not without authority… '

‘I have all the authority I need. Peter, ring the station. Get as many coppers here as you can. Now!'

Trevor turned back to the ward, intending to get dressed.

‘You can't go in there.' The security guard tried to stop him.

‘Those the only words you learnt in school?' Peter asked before making his way back to HQ.

* * *

Leaving her patients in the care of a staff nurse, Lyn sought out Karl. ‘It's freezing out here. Where do you want me to put my patients?'

‘Wherever you like.'

She stared furiously after his retreating figure. ‘Right, everyone into the main hall,' she shouted. Turning to the nurses standing by she called out, ‘I have twenty-four patients who need temporary housing overnight. See how many spare beds you can find in each block, make a note of the bed number and the ward, and report back to me as quickly as you can in the hall.'

‘That's what I call initiative,' Dan commented to Trevor as he re-emerged, dressed in the clothes he'd worn back from town.

‘I need to talk to you, in private,' Trevor croaked.

‘Tell your keeper,' Dan indicated Lyn, ‘where you'll be and follow me back to HQ. Perhaps you'd like to help out. We're going to need every man we can lay our hands on. Even sick ones.'

Dan poured out three cups of coffee and handed them around. ‘You look fitter than the last time I saw you, Trevor.'

‘That doesn't mean I'm in a hurry to get back to work. In fact I'd like to take some time off… '

‘What's going on?' Bill stormed into the office, knocking over the overflowing waste-paper basket, sending greasy chip papers and empty cans shooting across the floor. ‘I was woken up by some idiot gabbling on about Vanessa Hedley – '

‘She's missing,' Dan interrupted.

‘That's all we need.' Bill shook a cigarette from a packet he kept in the top pocket of his suit jacket. ‘Can't you just hear the screams upstairs when they find out that we didn't give her round-the-clock protection? She was our only witness.'

‘Who was incarcerated in what was supposed to be a secure ward in a mental institution.' Peter lit one of his cigars.

‘Seems to me those wards are anything but secure.' Bill looked at Trevor. ‘If they were, he wouldn't be here.'

‘We wouldn't know she was missing if it wasn't for him,' Peter rounded on Bill. ‘He only found out by chance, from… '

‘Someone who told me that Vanessa was missed early this evening but the hospital authorities decided to keep her disappearance quiet,' Trevor interrupted, with a cautionary glance at Peter.

‘She went missing early this evening and they told no one?'

‘The senior duty nurse tried to hush it up.'

‘Why would he do that?' Bill demanded.

‘Bureaucracy. He wouldn't do anything without the admin officer's say-so, and Tony Waters wasn't available,' Trevor divulged.

‘How did you find out?'

‘When fire broke out in the ward block the headcount was one short.'

‘What fire?' Bill looked suspiciously from Dan to Peter, to Trevor, and back.

‘I wouldn't bother to investigate that one if I were you,' Dan warned.

‘One of you set a fire?'

‘There's a pyromaniac on the ward,' Peter puffed on his cigar.

‘I still haven't worked out what you're doing here, Trevor.'

‘Assisting us with our enquiries,' Dan said. ‘If we're going to search this place thoroughly, we'll need all the help we can get.'

‘Not from the mentally ill.'

‘I was hoping to be discharged tomorrow.'

Bill looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘You're recovered?'

‘I believe so.'

‘If you're as fit as you say you are, you could be more use to us inside than out.'

‘What do you mean?' Trevor already had his suspicions.

‘If we had someone on the inside – a good detective, which you used to be, Trevor, we might make some headway with this case.'

‘You're asking me to stay in the hospital so you can have another pair of eyes on the case?'

‘A pair of inmate's eyes,' Bill qualified. ‘Who will see a lot more than a copper who comes in to interview witnesses. What do you say? A few more days might make all the difference. I'll see that you're put back on full pay immediately.'

‘I'm happy with sick pay.'

‘If this Hedley woman has been abducted by the killer, the chances are she's somewhere around the hospital and still alive. You could be her only chance.'

‘I thought you were planning to search the place.'

‘We will, but even if we find her, there's no guarantee we'll get to her in time.'

‘Mr Waters is here, Superintendent.' A constable knocked on the door and put his head round.

‘I'm off to bed,' Trevor rose from his seat.

‘Lucky, lucky you,' Peter grumbled.

‘You'll think about what I said, Trevor?' Bill pressed.

‘I'll think about it, but I'm promising nothing.' Trevor stepped outside and shivered. All the lights were on in his ward block. He entered the perspex tunnel. There was nothing inside, ahead or behind him. He knew because he stopped several times and looked around. But he was still left with an uneasy feeling that he was being followed. Quickening his pace, he hurried on, hammering on the locked door of his block as soon as he reached it. Lyn opened the door. She was holding a carton of scouring powder in rubber-gloved hands.

‘You've been with the police all this time?'

‘Gossiping.'

‘They started searching yet?'

‘Just getting started.' He stepped inside and bolted the door behind him. ‘Want some tea?'

‘Is that your way of asking me to make you a cup?'

‘No. I've just drunk more coffee in an hour than I've drunk in the last month. But tea would be a way of getting you to sit down for five minutes. You look all in.'

‘I am,' she admitted.

The ward was eerily silent without its patients. The rumpled beds and hastily thrown back sheets and blankets adding to the air of ghostly desertion. Their footsteps echoed disconcertingly across the tiled floor as they entered the kitchen.

‘The patients have been split up between the five other wards. When the fire service finished here, I thought I may as well come back and clean up, so everyone could move back first thing.' She sank down in a chair. Trevor filled the electric kettle and switched it on. There was a strong smell of cleaning fluid and bleach, and every surface shone, free from grime and smuts.

‘I'm sorry.'

‘For what?' she asked.