Chapter 27

It had been a long and difficult day, and Andrea McMillan was looking forward to going home. Hands thrust deep inside the pockets of her white coat, she made her way along the corridor toward the desk.

She was almost past the door to Lenny Smallwood’s room before she realized that it was closed. Strange. She grasped the handle and pushed the door open.

Lenny was half out of bed, leaning down toward a girl, hands to his face, covering his nose. The girl was holding something in cupped hands. Like an offering, thought Andrea. Both Lenny and the girl looked startled.

Andrea moved forward swiftly as she realized what was happening. The girl shrank back, but Lenny reached out and snatched something from her lap and began cramming it into his mouth. Andrea grasped his wrist, but he pulled away, face buried in his hands, snuffling, rooting like a pig as he gulped the substance down. White powder flew everywhere.

‘Bitch!’ Lenny screamed as he lunged upward and grasped her by the throat. Andrea twisted away, slipped and fell across the girl. She tried to get up, but Lenny was out of bed, astride her back, fingers digging into her throat. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t cry out …

The girl wrenched herself free and scrambled to her feet. Lenny’s fingers dug in deeper, pulling Andrea’s head back until she thought her neck would snap. From the corner of her eye, she saw the girl reach for the water jug beside the bed. She felt the splash of water on her face, then nothing.

*   *   *

‘Haversall, here, sir. There’s been an incident at the hospital involving Lenny Smallwood, sir. The duty sergeant instructed me to call you. It seems a doctor found a girl in Smallwood’s room. She was giving him cocaine, and when the doctor tried to stop her there was a scuffle and the doctor was knocked unconscious. They’re searching for the girl now, but so far they’ve…’

‘The doctor?’ Paget broke in. ‘What was the name of the doctor?’ He gripped the phone, fearful of the answer.

‘The name, sir? Just a moment. Yes, here it is. Dr McMillan. Apparently she…’

Haversall looked startled as the line went dead. ‘Well thank you very much, sir!’ she muttered indignantly as she too hung up.

*   *   *

Normally, it took twenty minutes to drive from his home in Ashton Prior to the centre of Broadminster, but Paget made it to the hospital in thirteen minutes flat. He dashed up the steps and ran headlong into a cluster of police and hospital security staff.

‘Fourth floor, sir,’ said one of the men in answer to Paget’s enquiry. ‘Would you like me to…?’

But Paget was gone.

He ran into more hospital security people as he stepped out of the lift on the fourth floor, but his eyes went immediately to Andrea, who was sitting in a wheelchair beside the work station desk, a blanket draped around her shoulders. Her eyes were closed and her face was almost as white as the bulky dressing covering the left side of her head.

A nurse hovered over her. She said something Paget could not hear, but Andrea waved her away without opening her eyes.

The sight of Andrea in pain chilled him to the core. What the devil were they thinking about? She ought to be in bed! He moved swiftly to her side.

‘Andrea, I … Are you all right?’

Of course she’s not all right, you idiot! Why was it, he thought desperately, that he could never seem to find the right words when he was near this woman?

Her eyes opened in surprise. She tilted her head to look up at him, and winced. ‘Neil…’ she said, and stopped. He could see bruises on her throat.

‘Don’t try to talk,’ he told her swiftly. ‘You ought to be in bed.’ He glanced accusingly at the nurse.

‘Don’t tell me, tell Dr McMillan,’ the woman bridled. ‘God knows we’ve tried.’

‘I’m all right,’ Andrea insisted hoarsely, but the weariness in her voice belied her words. ‘Besides, I have to get home.’

‘You’ll do no such thing,’ a voice boomed beside Paget’s ear. ‘Take her down to 428, Nurse, and don’t listen to anything she says to the contrary. Understand?’

‘Yes, Mr Stone.’

‘But Sarah…’

‘Sarah will be well taken care of by your Mrs Ansell,’ Stone said flatly. ‘I’ll telephone her myself. Now get on with it, Nurse.’ He turned and glared at Paget through steel-rimmed glasses as if expecting an argument from him.

Paget watched as Andrea was wheeled away. He wished he could go with her, but at least he felt better now that someone was insisting that she receive the attention she deserved.

He introduced himself to Stone. The consultant was a big man, heavily built, and taller than Paget by a couple of inches. He wore his hair long, and his plump face was almost lost in a mass of straggling whiskers.

‘Ah! Paget. Yes. Andrea spoke of you,’ he said. ‘The Smallwood boy. Mother murdered. Read about it last week. Well, he’s done it now. Don’t know what the stupid little bugger thought he was trying to achieve, stuffing himself with cocaine like that. He’ll be lucky if he lives. Swallowed the lot, packets and all, and they could do some real damage.’

‘But what about Andrea? How badly is she hurt?’

Stone eyed him curiously. ‘She’ll be fine after a good night’s rest,’ he said. ‘We’ll keep an eye on her for any after-effects from the head injury, but there is no indication at present that there will be. Throat will be sore as hell, of course, but no permanent damage.’

‘Tell me what happened,’ said Paget.

Stone shrugged. ‘Your people can probably tell you more than I can,’ he said, ‘but I gather she walked into Smallwood’s room and caught some girl feeding him cocaine. When he saw Andrea, he started shoving everything into his mouth. She tried to stop him, and that’s when he attacked her. Andrea remembers Smallwood trying to choke her, and she saw the girl pick up the jug, but she can’t remember anything after that.’

‘And Smallwood?’

‘Hard to say. They’re working on him now. Apart from anything else, he seems to have done himself some internal damage when he jumped out of bed, so it’s impossible at this stage to say what they’ll find.’

‘What about the girl?’ No one had mentioned a name, but Paget was prepared to bet the girl was Tania Costello.

‘No idea. She seems to have vanished. I heard one of your chaps say he thought she’d escaped on a moped.’

*   *   *

The light was fading in room 428, and Andrea McMillan felt that she was fading with it. The throbbing in her head seemed to be subsiding, although her throat still felt as if it were on fire, and it was agony to swallow.

But as shadows deepened in the room, she recalled the anguish in Neil Paget’s face as he’d looked at her tonight. It was as if he were sharing in her pain, and she knew that he had come because of her; not because of Lenny; not because a crime had been committed, but because of her and her alone.

Tuesday – 21 May

Despite the best efforts of the doctors, Lenny Smallwood died at 4.32 a.m. No one knew how much cocaine he’d stuffed into his mouth – just that it was a lot, and there was little they could do. And that, together with his other injuries – made worse by his diving out of bed – had finished him.

Sergeant Ormside gave Paget the news when he arrived that morning. ‘I don’t think there’s any doubt that the girl was Tania Costello,’ he said. ‘The description fits.’

Paget grunted. ‘Better make sure that Mrs McLeish is informed,’ he said. ‘Poor woman came down for one funeral and now she has two.’

‘Right, sir.’ Ormside picked up a report and handed it to Paget. ‘It looks as if your instincts were right,’ he said. ‘It seems that Miss Fairmont has a gentleman-friend who visits her regularly two or three nights a week.’ He grinned crookedly. ‘Descriptions vary, depending on who you talk to, but most of them agree the man is middle-aged, and he drives a Rover – a dark red Rover – which he parks in the next street beside a butcher’s shop. We haven’t found anyone who can confirm the car was parked there last Monday evening, but chances are we will if we keep at it.’

Paget skimmed through the notes and nodded with satisfaction. ‘Rachel Fairmont is a good-looking woman,’ he observed. ‘I couldn’t see Gresham keeping his hands off her for long. But she plays her part well at work. Not one of the girls I questioned even suggested that there was anything going on between them.

‘Which accounts for how he knew about Beth Smallwood’s call to Rachel. He was there with her in her flat when Beth rang. He visited his father for a few minutes earlier in the evening, then went on to the flat. Now we know why he has been visiting his father so regularly. He uses that as an excuse to visit Rachel.

‘If Beth did mention going to the police,’ he continued, ‘and Rachel told Gresham what she’d said, he was almost bound to draw the wrong conclusion. He would have insisted on Rachel telling him everything that Beth had said, so he would know that Beth would be alone in the church. He had more than enough time to drive over there to try to dissuade her or try to buy her off. What happened then is anyone’s guess. Perhaps Beth did try to explain but he didn’t give her a chance.

‘And when Gresham arrived at the pub that night, he was so preoccupied that Trent suggested they meet again the following day.’

Paget handed the notes back to Ormside. ‘But it’s all conjecture at the moment, isn’t it? What we need is proof. I think it’s time we had another talk with Gresham and Miss Fairmont.’

*   *   *

‘We’ll walk,’ said Paget as he and Tregalles left the building. ‘Fresh air will do us good. Besides, parking is impossible over there.’

He needed to walk; needed to get rid of some of the tension. He’d spent at least half the night lying awake thinking and worrying about Andrea. He wished he could have done more, but comforted himself with the thought that she was in capable hands.

He’d left the house half an hour early and gone straight to the hospital before coming in to work, but Andrea was not in her room. She’d been taken down for ‘tests’, whatever that might mean. When he tried to press for details, the staff nurse took pity on him.

‘Believe me, Chief Inspector, there’s no need to worry,’ she assured him. ‘It’s simply routine work. Dr McMillan will be back to work in a couple of days, I’m sure. But I’ll let her know you were here when she returns to this floor.’

*   *   *

It seemed to Paget that Rachel Fairmont looked apprehensive as he and Tregalles approached her. She smiled mechanically, and after checking with Gresham via the intercom, ushered them into his office before retreating to her own desk.

Arthur Gresham was at his most affable. He came forward to greet them, and waited until they were seated before returning to his own chair.

‘This is a coincidence,’ he told them. ‘I was just about to ring you, Chief Inspector.’ He removed his glasses and began to polish them. ‘Miss Fairmont told me yesterday that you had been to see her. She said you were puzzled by the fact that I knew about Beth Smallwood’s call to her on that tragic evening. I meant to call you yesterday to clear the matter up, but I’m afraid I became busy and it slipped my mind.’

Paget doubted that, but decided to remain silent and listen to what Gresham had to say. The man might hang himself yet.

Gresham pursed his lips and moistened them. ‘To tell you the truth,’ he said in a confidential tone, ‘Miss Fairmont is more than a little embarrassed about it. It’s not like her at all. I think it must have been the shock of hearing about poor Beth that drove it completely out of her mind. You see, she simply forgot about my call to her that night. She was extremely upset when I reminded her of it, and as I said, embarrassed.’

‘What call was that, sir?’

Gresham slipped his glasses back in place. ‘The one I made to her after talking to Ivor Trent in the Three Crowns that night. You see, we’d agreed to have a meeting in his office first thing the following morning, and I rang Miss Fairmont to let her know that I’d be late. It was then that she told me about Beth telephoning to say she wouldn’t be in the following day, but as I say, it completely slipped her mind. I’m sorry if it’s caused you any inconvenience, Chief Inspector, although, quite frankly, I can’t see what it has to do with Beth Smallwood’s death.’

Tregalles spoke up. ‘But I understand that you cancelled that meeting with Mr Trent,’ he said. ‘Why was that, sir?’

‘Ah! Yes.’ Gresham pursed judicial lips once more and clasped plump hands across his stomach, and when he spoke again it was to Paget rather than Tregalles.

‘You see, I’m afraid I wasn’t quite straight with you the other day, Chief Inspector,’ he said apologetically. ‘In retrospect, it was foolish of me, I know. But when Miss Fairmont told me about Beth, I was concerned about her. It sounded as if she had taken a nasty tumble, and I wanted to make sure that she was all right. It was getting late and I didn’t want to disturb her if she was already in bed, so I decided to go out there first thing the following morning. I rang Trent and explained the situation, and we set up another time.’

‘And did you go out the following morning?’ Tregalles asked.

Gresham was forced to face him. ‘Yes, I did, Sergeant,’ he said brusquely, ‘but I couldn’t get through because the road was cordoned off by your people.’

‘I see. And what time was it when you rang Miss Fairmont?’

Gresham frowned his irritation. ‘I don’t know exactly,’ he said. ‘Ten o’clock or thereabouts, I suppose.’

‘And you rang Miss Fairmont from where, sir?’

Gresham snorted. ‘Oh, really, Sergeant! Does it matter?’

‘We won’t know until you tell us, will we, sir?’

Gresham looked to Paget, but found no comfort there. He sighed resignedly. ‘There’s a public telephone outside the Three Crowns,’ he said. ‘I rang from there.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Tregalles made a note in his notebook. ‘You say you found Farrow Lane cordoned off when you tried to go down there on the Tuesday morning. Did anyone tell you why it was blocked off?’

Gresham looked disconcerted, and a slow flush began to rise above his collar. ‘Actually, it was mentioned by one of your men at the barrier,’ he said, ‘but I had no idea that the person who had been attacked was Beth Smallwood.’ Gresham turned to Paget and spread his hands. ‘I’m sorry I misled you when you came to see me later that morning, Chief Inspector, but I really didn’t see any point in mentioning I’d been out there, since it had absolutely nothing to do with your investigation. Now, of course, I see I should have said something, and I do apologize.’

Paget’s grunt was non-committal. ‘Could we have Miss Fairmont in?’ he asked.

Gresham pursed his lips again. ‘I do hope you won’t be too hard on her, poor girl,’ he said. ‘She feels terrible about her lapse of memory.’

‘I don’t think there is any fear of that, sir,’ said Paget.

Rachel Fairmont entered the office in the manner of a schoolgirl summoned to the headmaster’s office, fearful of the consequences. In a voice barely above a whisper, she verified in every detail what Gresham had just told them about the telephone call to her. ‘I simply don’t know how it could have gone so completely from my mind, Chief Inspector,’ she ended distractedly. ‘I should have remembered when you asked me on Sunday, but by then I’m afraid I was so confused…’ The words seemed to catch in her throat, and she looked as if she might cry.

Paget looked at Gresham. ‘Do you have anything to add to that?’ he asked.

The manager sat back in his chair, folded his hands over his stomach once more and returned Paget’s gaze. ‘I think we have covered everything, Chief Inspector,’ he said. ‘I do apologize again. I hope we haven’t caused you too much inconvenience. Now, what was it you wished to see me about?’

Paget rose to his feet and Tregalles followed. ‘I believe you have told us what we wanted to know,’ he said carefully. ‘Of course, I shall need revised statements from you both. Shall we say four o’clock this afternoon at Charter Lane?’

‘Ah!’ Gresham came out from behind his desk as Tregalles also rose. ‘I’m afraid that’s a bit awkward,’ he said. ‘You see, the auditors are presenting their report this afternoon, and a VIP from head office will be here. I have been instructed to attend, and Miss Fairmont will be required to take the minutes. Perhaps tomorrow morning…?’

Paget eyed the manager stonily. He hated to concede anything to this man, but there was nothing to be gained by making an issue over a few hours. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Nine o’clock tomorrow morning.’

As they came out into brilliant sunshine, Tregalles blew out his cheeks and shook his head in wonder. ‘That’s the biggest load of codswallop I’ve heard in years!’ he declared. ‘Surely to God Gresham can’t think he’s going to get away with a story like that? And that secretary of his. She was lying her head off for him.’

‘I suspect that Arthur Gresham believes he can get away with anything if he puts his mind to it,’ said Paget. He remained silent for a moment. ‘But I’m not at all sure about Miss Fairmont. Perhaps we’ll find out tomorrow.’

*   *   *

The same staff nurse who had been on duty earlier in the day was still there. ‘I told Dr McMillan you were here earlier, Chief Inspector,’ she said as Paget approached the desk, ‘but I’m afraid you’ve missed her again. She’s been discharged.’

‘Discharged? Why? She isn’t fit. Who gave…?’

‘She discharged herself, Mr Paget,’ the nurse said flatly. ‘We would have preferred to have her stay another day, but she wanted to get home, and there was no reason for us to keep her here, provided she is careful for the next few days. Her injuries are by no means life-threatening.’

‘They looked pretty serious to me,’ said Paget bluntly.

The staff nurse’s lips settled into a thin line. ‘We do know what we’re doing here,’ she said stiffly, ‘and so does Dr McMillan. She was given a thorough examination before she left, and I’m quite sure she is capable of looking after herself at home.’

Paget felt chastened, and deservedly so. It was hardly the fault of the nurse that Andrea had insisted on leaving. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologized. ‘I wasn’t criticizing you. It’s just that, after seeing Dr McMillan’s injuries last night, I was concerned. I just want to make sure that she’ll be all right.’

The nurse’s face relaxed. ‘I’m sure she will be, Mr Paget,’ she said soothingly. ‘And I think it is very good of you to show so much concern.’ A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as if she found something amusing.

*   *   *

On his way back to the office, Paget took a detour through Market Square. Finding an empty parking slot seemed like a good omen, but still he hesitated. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea after all. But on the other hand, what was there to lose?

Still not quite convinced he was doing the right thing, he got out of the car and made his way to a small shop on the corner. He hesitated at the door, then grasped the handle firmly and went inside.