No Known Grave (6 page)

Tyler could see how much of her posture was bravado. She was very frightened.

“I’m Detective Inspector Tyler, Mrs. McHattie, and, yes, I am in charge. I’m afraid I have some very bad news. I—”

She interrupted him. “Maybe you’d better tell me in private then. My daughter here is expecting, and it’s no good to have a shock at this stage.”

The young woman was puffy with pregnancy, but she didn’t seem particularly delicate. She frowned at her mother. “I’ll be all right, Ma. If the news is that bad, we’re better off to hear it together.”

Mrs. McHattie went over and put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Go on then. What’s happened?”

He felt almost ill. Sister Rebecca was standing behind him and she moved forward slightly so that he could feel her presence. Steadying.

“Early this morning, the bodies of your husband, Jock, and your elder son, Ben, were discovered in your cottage. They had both been shot by an unknown assailant. I must tell you immediately that your younger son, Charlie, is unharmed. He is being cared for.”

He had expected incomprehension. Most people could not assimilate such shocking news immediately. Shirley gave a little gasp and pressed her hands to her mouth, but Mrs. McHattie was very still.

“You said ‘an unknown assailant.’ What do you mean?” the older woman asked.

“We don’t know as yet who is responsible.”

“Oh, Ma,” whispered Shirley.

Mrs. McHattie pulled her daughter in closer to her.

“Surely you’re not telling us a Jerry landed here, went into our home, and shot two defenceless people?”

“At this point, Mrs. McHattie, I do not know who killed them. I will be conducting a full investigation.”

Neither woman spoke for a moment. Tyler noticed Mrs. McHattie was looking at Sister Rebecca, not at him.

“Charlie is all right?”

The nun answered. “Yes, he is quite unharmed but in a state of shock. He’s with Evan Hughes over in our quarters.”

Mrs. McHattie faced Tyler. “I want to see him.”

“Yes, of course,” said Tyler. “I did have to question him already.”

“And?”

“He said he was awakened by his brother, who appeared to have heard something suspicious and went to see what was happening. We found Ben’s body in your bedroom. He had his cricket bat with him. He showed a lot of courage.”

“Foolishness if you ask me,” snapped Mrs. McHattie. “Thought he was all grown up, but he was still a bairn. What did he think he was going to do against a man with a gun?”

“Are you certain they’re both dead?” asked Shirley.

“There is no doubt. I wish I could say otherwise.”

Mrs. McHattie swayed, and for a moment, Tyler was afraid she would fall.

“Why don’t you sit down, Mrs. McHattie?”

She ignored him. Her jaw was clamped tight. Again her eyes looked over at Sister Rebecca.

“Did he put up a fight, my Jock?”

“By the look of it, he was taken unawares,” Tyler answered. “He was still lying in his bed.”

“That doesna make sense,” said Mrs. McHattie. “He would’ve done something, blind as he was.”

Tyler didn’t respond. McHattie definitely hadn’t moved when the gun was put to his head.

“What about Charlie? Why was he spared?”

“I don’t know. When the killer left, he hid under his bed until Hughes arrived.”

It was Mrs. McHattie’s turn to press her hand to her mouth. “My poor wee laddie. How long was he there?”

“We think the shootings happened between three and four o’clock this morning. Hughes went to the house at about twenty past seven.”

“Hours, then. Wondering what had happened, what would become of him.”

Shirley grasped her mother’s hand. “Oh, Ma, try not to think on it. He’s alive; that’s what matters.”

Mrs. McHattie brought her eyes back to Tyler. Her face was sheet white. “Who could’ve got in? We’re locked up like jailbirds every night. Isn’t that right, Sister?”

“Your front door was not locked, Mrs. McHattie,” said Tyler.

“Jock was responsible for that. He did forget sometimes.”

Again Tyler waited.

Shirley choked back a sob and Mrs. McHattie began to stroke her hair the way Hughes had stroked Charlie’s.

“Did your husband have any enemies that you know of?” Tyler asked.

Mrs. McHattie bristled. “Jock was well respected, sir. He was blind and not a man to have enemies. You’re barking up the wrong tree. I doubt it was a personal attack, if you understand me. There are some troubled young men in this hospital.
Ask the sister. Perhaps it was one of them. Reliving some battle he’d been through. Thought he’d nabbed a Jerry.”

Tyler was of the opinion this murder had been carefully planned, but he supposed that didn’t completely rule out madness and delusion.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to see my son,” said Mrs. McHattie.

Tyler turned to the nun. “Sister, would you take Mrs. McHattie and Miss McHattie to Charlie? And would you make sure Hughes stays with them for the time being?” He added the last part quietly, but Mrs. McHattie still heard him.

“Don’t fret, Inspector. We’re not going to run off to reveal anything suspicious, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“That was not on my mind, madam. I thought, as you know Mr. Hughes, he might be of some comfort to you.”

“Comfort? I dinna think that’s going to be possible.” For the first time since she’d heard the news, Mrs. McHattie looked as if she were going to break down. But she sucked in her cheeks and didn’t cry.

“When will we be able to go back to our house?”

“Not just yet, I’m afraid. First, we will have to remove the bodies to the mortuary.”

“And when can we give them a decent burial?”

“You will be notified as soon as possible when they can be released.”

“I see.”

“We have a guest room in the sisters’ quarters,” said Sister Rebecca. “You can all stay there until things get sorted out.”

“Thank you, Sister. That is kind … I couldn’t bear to be too far away at the moment.” She held out her hand to Shirley and helped her to heave herself out of the armchair. “Let’s go and see our Charlie.”

9.

C
ONSTABLE
M
ORTIMER HAD STATIONED HERSELF IN
the hall outside the consulting room and Tyler beckoned to her to come in.

“Have the constables arrived?”

“Yes, sir. Constable Chase is in the common room. Constable Mady has gone down to the cottage.”

“He’s that little whippersnapper of a bloke, isn’t he? Flat feet or something, so he couldn’t go in the army.”

“Yes, sir. I would say he fits that description.”

Tyler sighed. She couldn’t help her voice, at least he assumed she couldn’t, but her way of speaking was getting his back up.

“What about the others?”

“Constables Eaves, Biggs, and Stanton are in the foyer awaiting orders. Constable Swinfell is on his way. Sergeant Rowell has sent word that four reservists should be here shortly after noon. He also wished you to know that he has reached Dr. Murnaghan and he will be arriving in about an hour’s time.”

“Good.”

“What is the next step, sir?”

Valid enough question. She’s not challenging you, just wants to know what to expect
.

“I’m going to get my bearings first. Sister Rebecca will show me around the hospital. I want you to go tell the constables to start patrolling the grounds. As soon as we have our full complement, we’ll organize a proper search, but they can at least have a look round now.”

“Do you suspect a resident, sir?” Mortimer’s expression was anxious. “My relatives were quite fearful of robbers. Hence the high wall and thicket. It would be difficult for an outsider to penetrate, I do believe.”

“Yes, well, I tend to agree with you. We’ll see what we find.”

Tyler stepped out through the French doors. The almoner came towards him. She didn’t need to say how painful it had been to witness the reunion of the McHattie women with Charlie; it was obvious from the haggard expression on her face.

“Where would you like to start, Inspector? I hope you won’t mind if we move quickly. The residents have been waiting for quite a while now.”

“I realize that.” He was trying not to show how edgy he felt. “Is there a back door?”

“There is. Come this way.”

She turned on her heel and he followed her around the side of the building to the rear, where a door opened onto a narrow hall. The day was already starting to heat up, but inside the main house it was pleasantly cool. The original oak panelling had been retained, and in spite of the linoleum floor covering, there was an immediate sense of a more luxurious, bygone age.

“The doors are closed,” said the almoner. “The patients won’t see us.”

They went through to the main foyer, which was also panelled and spacious. An elegant staircase curved to the second storey.

A faint sound of
BBC
light music emanated from the room where the residents had been gathered. Tyler could feel himself grow tense. He’d be seeing them all soon enough.

Sister Rebecca proceeded up the staircase.

“The original bedrooms have been converted into wards. We have thirteen men on the second floor and our four women on the third. Their rooms were originally the servants’ quarters. We would have preferred the women have nicer rooms, but it wasn’t
practical. We would also have liked more light on the ground floor, but obviously we can’t take down the wall even though it blocks everything out. We are cramped, but as the house was donated for the duration, we’re very grateful.”

The stairs swept upward to a wide, gallery-style hall that opened to the left and stretched along the breadth of the second floor. Deeply inset windows looked out to the front of the house and the hall was currently splashed with bands of sunlight. The four bedrooms were on the opposite side and the doors to each were standing open. As with the downstairs, there was no carpeting, and here a dark wood floor gleamed with the patina of age.

It was impressive. Tyler thought Rowell’s kitchen would have fitted in that hall a couple of times over.

Sister Rebecca gave him a bit of an impish grin. “Those Victorians knew how to waste space when they wanted to. The generosity of the design of this house is itself healing. It also makes it easier for our wheelchair-bound patients to get around.”

She indicated an alcove a few feet to the right of the staircase. “We call this the nurses’ station, although it barely deserves the name. There was originally a good-sized linen cupboard just there, and we were able to open it up sufficiently to make room for the desk.” She pointed at two cabinets behind the desk. “We use these to store medications and medical utensils. And here—” she pulled open the lower drawer “—we have a spirit stove and kettle for the sister on night duty to make tea or cocoa when she has her break.”

He could tell she was rather proud of their ingenuity.

Tyler went and sat in the wooden chair behind the desk. The desk was strictly functional, with a night lamp and a single drawer. Somebody had left a silver mug in which he could see the remains of cocoa.

“Who was on duty last night?”

“Sister Ivy Packwin.”

“And presumably she hasn’t reported anything untoward?”

“Nothing. She was as shocked as all of us when we heard the news.”

From where he sat, there was a clear view down the hall as far as the side window where he’d seen the fire escape.

Tyler stood up. “I’d better take a look at that.”

The sash window opened smoothly and the sill was low. He climbed out onto the iron steps. They were steep, dropping almost vertically to the path. He half-slid to the bottom and then turned and came back up as fast as he could. Once he had clambered back inside, he was panting. The fire escape would only be an easy exit for the agile.

The almoner waited.

“Sister, I’m going to need a list of all the residents, both patients and staff. I know I’ll be meeting them shortly, but any information from you now would be helpful. For instance, how many of the patients are actually mobile and physically able?”

She hesitated. “I understand what you need to know, Inspector, but from our point of view the answer is not necessarily simple. All of our patients have a disability of some kind, whether it be mental or physical. Sometimes it is both.”

He regarded her quizzically. “Details please.”

“As I mentioned, we have seventeen patients in total: thirteen men and four women. I would say that eight of the men are clearly incapable, because they are either blind or unable to walk. In some cases, both.”

Tyler took out his notebook and pencil. “What about the women?”

“One is blind. One has partial sight and is mobile. The other two are afflicted with severe psychosomatic troubles and are confined to wheelchairs.”

“But physically there’s nothing wrong with them?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

Tyler chewed on his pencil for a moment. “If I’ve done my arithmetic properly, I count eight able-bodied people. Five of them are men.”

“Technically speaking there are five, but as with our two female patients, two of the men have psychosomatic illnesses that incapacitate them.”

“But there is no physical injury? They can see and they can walk if they have to?”

“Yes.”

Sorry, Sister, I know you are being loyal and protective of your patients, but at the moment, they are all suspects. That’s how it goes with a murder investigation
.

“Other than the front and back doors, are there any other entrances to the hospital?”

“There is a door on the east side. It was originally reserved for the servants, who slept on the second floor. The stairs from those quarters lead into a passageway that can be accessed through here.” She pointed to the door just a few feet behind where they were standing.

“Do you use that door?”

“Hardly ever. It’s kept locked. We try to keep a close eye on the comings and goings of our residents and prefer that those who can walk make use of the main staircase.”

“And if they can’t walk?”

“We have a small lift. We were able to open the original dumb waiter in the kitchen. It’s a bit inconvenient because it means the access is from there – and we weren’t able to install it all the way up. The women patients have to be helped down to the second floor, but it’s still a godsend.”