The Dead Ground (3 page)

No, nothing good ever happened in Ballyterrin General Hospital, and the fact that it was from here the baby had been stolen, well, that didn’t surprise Paula at all.

In front of the private maternity room, a woman in a grey trouser-suit and red heels was talking to Gerard Monaghan. It was no surprise he’d got there first, as Guy scrupulously obeyed the town speed limits, and Gerard, like all locals, looked on them as a good wee joke. He looked up uneasily as Guy arrived. This woman was his other boss, DCI Helen Corry, head of Serious Crime for the area. Gerard’s work as liaison to the Unit left him uncomfortably torn between the two and their constantly simmering feud.

Guy said, ‘What have we got?’

Helen Corry saw them but carried on and finished her sentence. ‘. . . And get the CCTV quick as you can. We need to see if the child’s still in the building. Threaten them if you have to.’ Only then did she turn to the new arrivals. ‘Inspector Brooking, Dr Maguire.
We
have nothing.
I
have an abducted newborn, by the looks of it.’

Guy was pressing his lips together, a sure sign of contained fury. ‘Why weren’t we called in sooner?’

Helen Corry smoothed back a blond hair. Her nails were painted the same red as her shoes. ‘They called the police, quite naturally, so we came.’

‘We’re first point of contact on all missing per—’

‘You’re here now, Inspector, aren’t you? And as we’ll be supplying all the manpower, or personpower, for this case, I’m guessing you want to keep us on board.’

Paula, no stranger to professional pissing contests herself, raised her eyebrows at Gerard, who shook his head helplessly. Between the two, he was on balance probably more scared of Corry.

The woman herself was now saying, ‘As I understand it, your role is to coordinate and ensure a swift response to new missing persons cases. So what actions would your coordination create in this instance?’

‘Well, I’d seal the area—’

‘Done, as you saw – though you seem to have breached it.’

‘—I’d prevent all staff and patients from leaving—’

‘Also done, though we can’t hold them forever. So it might be good if you let me get on and interview them.’

Guy spoke in a rush. ‘—interview any eyewitnesses, get CCTV and artist’s impressions, and ask my psychology consult to assess the MO.’

Finally Helen Corry gave Paula one of her trademark unreadable expressions. ‘Good job you brought her, then. I’m fine with Dr Maguire being involved.’

‘I didn’t ask if you were,’ Guy muttered, but only after Corry had moved out of earshot to berate the uniformed officers at the cordon.

Gerard sighed, his wide shoulders sagging. ‘It’s true what she said, sir. She’s ordered it all already, what you’d have done. She’s even got them checking the databases in case it’s happened before anywhere. Not much for us to do.’

Guy turned to Paula. ‘We’ve got one thing she hasn’t. Ready to talk to the parents?’

Damian and Kasia Pachek had loved Ireland, he explained during the interview. They loved the green mountains, the pubs, the wisecracking stoicism of the people. So much so that when Kasia became pregnant, they’d decided to have their baby in Ballyterrin, instead of going home to Krakow as their families had wanted. The hospital room had cards on the nightstand, a big bunch of flowers still in crinkly plastic, a blue teddy inside the cot which until two hours before had held their newborn son, Alek.

Now Kasia lay on the bed, dressed in short pink pyjamas, a drip in her pale hand. She kept up a steady and monotonous weeping, the kind of sound you quickly stopped noticing. Her husband sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, staring in front of him, mashing a paper coffee cup between his fingers. They were a young couple, Paula guessed. Mid-twenties, no more. Damian worked as a technician in a commercial lab outside town, and Kasia was a yoga instructor. Guy had already established as much from Gerard.

‘I lost him,’ said Damian Pachek again. His wife said something in Polish, swallowed in tears, and he lowered his head into his hands, eyes screwed up.

Guy looked to Paula, who stepped in. ‘Mr Pachek. I know this is hard, but there’s every chance we will find Alek, and soon. Now I’m sorry we have to do this so soon, when you’re in shock, but time is really important in a case like this, before you forget any of it. I’ll take you through a special interview to help you remember all the details you can.’

The man nodded, eyes still fixed on something invisible in the middle distance. His whole body was shaking. Paula took a deep breath and sat down in another plastic chair, Guy still leaning against the wall. The weight of it all settled round her, the responsibility to find and bring home this child whose first toy lay abandoned in his crib.

‘Damian.’ She said his name quietly, and he focussed on her. ‘I’m very sorry this has happened, but it isn’t your fault. It could have been anyone.’

On the bed, Kasia moaned and choked out a few words of Polish. Damian passed a hand over his face. ‘She says I should have watched – I should not have taken my eyes from him.’

Paula glanced at the woman, who was burying her face in the pillow, shoulders quietly heaving. ‘It’s not your fault,’ she said again. ‘Whoever came and took Alek, it’s their fault, you understand? They’re the one responsible. So I need you to tell me everything, every detail you remember, to help us find them.’

Tears were now pooling on his face. ‘Kasy was sleeping. She was so tired – I’m tired too but I was awake, I was excited.’

Paula nodded.

‘I was looking at him, at – at Alek, and I was happy, I was thinking I had to make a phone call, tell my mother she is
babcia
now.’ His voice caught. ‘Then a nurse came and she said she has to take Alek for tests. Kasia was sleeping, so I – I went – ’ Words seemed to fail him and he gestured with one hand down the corridor. ‘I go out to phone, so I do not wake her, Kasia . . .’

‘The nurse,’ Paula prompted. ‘It was a woman, you said?’

‘Yes. She had the outfit, sort of blue colour.’ He waved a hand near his torso. ‘Like they wear.’ His English, perfect at the start, seemed to be breaking down under stress.

‘Damian. I need you to remember. Slow down and just let it come – every detail.’

The young man had his head in his hands. ‘She came in the door. Her feet are so quiet – I nearly don’t hear her until she was there. She said – I forget – “Time for baby’s tests now.” And she started wheeling the, the cot. I didn’t have time to think, OK, this is strange, you know.’

‘Her voice,’ Paula asked, ‘did she have an accent?’

He shook his head. ‘From here, I think. Like you. Not like him.’ He pointed to Guy, who was pure Home Counties English. ‘She was tall, I think. Black hair, blue outfit like a nurse.’

She had an idea. ‘Was it an actual nurse’s uniform, or maybe someone trying to look like a nurse?’

He thought about it. ‘Maybe. I don’t look. I – I don’t know.’

Paula understood. Overwhelmed with new parenthood and lack of sleep, you didn’t question the authority of a medical professional. Even if they weren’t a real one. ‘So when you went to phone, what happened then?’

‘I went, but something made me look back, and I see the thing, this—’ He pointed helplessly.

‘The cot?’

‘Yes – I saw it in the corridor, kind of spinning. She wasn’t there, and Alek, she lifted him out – oh God.’ He started to shake hard. ‘I could have run after her, but I didn’t know, I think it’s OK.’

‘What happened next, Damian?’

‘I – I called, and everyone at home is so happy, crying happy, saying when will we bring him there.’ He shuddered, somewhere between laughter and tears. ‘Then I came back, he’s gone but I didn’t worry. I waited maybe half an hour, then I went to the nurse station and they said – that’s all. I can’t remember. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s OK.’ She went to touch his arm, earning a watchful look from Guy, and pulled back.

He took over. ‘Mr Pachek. We’ll do our best to find your son. Every member of staff here will be questioned, and we’ll be going through the CCTV as soon as we can.’

‘Who would do this?’ Fingers stretched over his face like a mask, he looked to them for answers. ‘Who would take someone’s baby like this?’ They had none.

‘We’ll send an officer over to be with you the whole time, keep you updated.’ With those crumbs of comfort, they rose to go.

Guy walked quickly down the corridor, buttoning his suit jacket. ‘First thoughts?’

Paula tried to keep pace. ‘I’ve read about this kind of case. Usually it’s a woman, as he said. Someone who’s recently lost a baby or desperately wants one. They most likely won’t want to harm Alek, but the danger with a newborn is that the abductor can’t feed it, or look after it properly. There may not be much time.’

He rounded a sharp corner to the nurses’ station. ‘We need the CCTV. We can’t hold people here indefinitely. Unless it shows something, we’ll have to let everyone go.’

‘We’ll interview the staff?’

‘If Corry lets us.’ He turned to her suddenly and the force of his grey eyes hit her like a punch. Paula skidded to a halt, boots slipping on the polished hospital floor.

‘What?’

‘You should go home.’

‘Why?’ She bristled.

‘Because you threw up on my shoes earlier.’

‘Oh.’

‘You’re as white as a ghost, Paula. There’s nothing you can do here.’

‘But—’ She looked back to the room where the couple sat, stunned by the loss of what was so recently acquired.

‘We’ll do everything we can, I promise. Why don’t you make a start on an offender profile? Corry’s going to want one asap.’

‘OK.’ She stopped suddenly. If she was white as a ghost, there was one coming right towards her. A ghost that refused to stay laid.

Guy followed her gaze and gave a grunt of indignation. ‘For God’s sake, I told everyone not a word to the media.’

‘He always knows,’ said Paula wearily. ‘I don’t know how. He sniffs it out like a dog.’

Aidan was several yards down the cordoned-off corridor, which was crowded with police and patients. He was talking animatedly to the officers at the barrier, and hadn’t seen her yet. She knew right then she couldn’t face him, not with Guy there too, both of them and the secret ticking away inside her like a bomb. She looked at Guy helplessly. ‘Can I get out of here? I can’t—’

He seemed to understand. ‘There’s some stairs round the corner. Show your ID card and say I sent you. I’ll handle O’Hara. He has no right to be here.’ He hesitated. ‘Listen, when you feel better, Paula, I think we should talk. About – everything. About what happened with us last month.’

She froze for a second. He couldn’t know, could he? No, she hadn’t told anyone and the only person who’d guessed was in London. She forced a smile. ‘Sure. Soon.’

Paula ducked around the corner, just in time to see Aidan O’Hara, editor of the local paper and also her ex-boyfriend, stride up to Guy waving his press card. He’d shaved since she saw him last, a month before, bleeding on a stretcher, shot through the arm by a desperate man. Halloween night, the air full of smoke and danger, and Paula and Aidan almost getting themselves killed trying to find out what had happened to a local girl pulled dead from the canal.

He looked different now. He looked sober, healthy, full of energy. Her hands crept over her stomach. Damn you, Aidan O’Hara. Damn and blast you to hell. Then she turned and almost ran before he saw her.

Chapter Two

Paula took the stairs at a gallop all the way down to the ground floor, which was also swarming with officers, everywhere people asking questions about what had happened and when they could leave. Flashing her police ID, she pushed through the springy doors to A & E. There was only one person she could think of who’d help her now.

She was no longer sure how to think of Dr Saoirse McLoughlin. Best friend once, yes, for the whole of primary and secondary school. But then Paula had turned eighteen and left Ballyterrin, determined never to go back. It would take a while for Saoirse to forgive those years of absence, but they were at least back in a sort of strained contact.

Paula spied her friend coming out of a cubicle, drawing back the blue plastic curtains. She saw Paula through the crowd and came towards Reception, hands in the pocket of her white lab coat. Its sleeves were turned up to leave free Saoirse’s small hands.

‘I’m taking a break, Ricky,’ Saoirse told the young man behind the counter, whose nose ring was glinting under the strip lighting.

‘Any word of when people can go?’ He indicated the waiting room, where every seat was occupied, some people with clean white bandages on, others bloodied and bashed-up, children chasing between the seats. The din was terrible. The unexpected snow had brought its usual quota of twisted ankles, tobogganing accidents, car skids. Coupled with the fact police were sealing every exit, the place was heaving.

‘I’ll get onto them. It’s unacceptable to impede our work like this.’ Saoirse glanced at Paula, who as one of ‘them’ looked awkwardly about her. Saoirse inclined her head. ‘Come on, I’ve got five minutes, if no one’s allowed in or out.’

In her small office, she shut the door and sat at her desk. ‘Bit of a disaster, this. Management are going mad.’

‘Mm.’ Paula leaned against a filing cabinet, heart still hammering from the run downstairs. ‘At least in cases like these the baby usually isn’t harmed. Not on purpose, anyway. Do you have anything I can add to my profile? What do we need to look out for?’

Saoirse’s face changed. ‘He’ll be cold, and hungry. They go downhill very fast if they’re not kept warm and fed. Do you really think they’re still here?’

‘No, they’ll be long gone. I’m sure we’ll lift the restrictions soon. They’re just checking the CCTV, I think.’

‘You think it was staff? A nurse took him, I heard.’ News travelled fast round the hospital.

‘I don’t know. It’s easy enough to steal a uniform, or just wear something that looks like one. I’d say it was someone who felt at home here, though. They knew the procedures, and how to get out quickly, and that they’d not be stopped.’ And it was most likely someone who desperately wanted a child, but she didn’t say this. Paula didn’t need to ask how Saoirse’s own pregnancy quest was going. She could see the answer in her friend’s drawn, set face.